Ghost O I finde thee apt, and duller shouldst thou be
Then the fat weede which rootes it selfe in ease
On Lethe wharffe: briefe let me be. 95
Tis giuen out, that sleeping in my orchard,
A Serpent stung me; so the whole eare of Denmarke
Is with a forged Prosses of my death rankely abusde:
But know thou noble Youth: he that did sting
Thy fathers heart, now weares his Crowne. 100
Ham. O my prophetike soule, my vncle! my vncle!
Ghost Yea he, that incestuous wretch, wonne to his will with gifts,
O wicked will, and gifts! that haue the power
So to seduce my most seeming vertuous Queene,
But vertne, as it neuer will be moued, 105
Though Lewdnesse court it in a shape of heauen,
So Lust, though to a radiant angle linckt,
Would fate it selfe from a celestiall bedde,
And prey on garbage: but soft, me thinkes
I sent the mornings ayre, briefe let me be, 110
Sleeping within my Orchard, my custome alwayes
In the after noone, vpon my secure houre
Thy vncle came, with iuyce of Hebona
In a viall, and through the porches of my eares
Did powre the leaprous distilment, whose effect 115
Hold such an enmitie with blood of man,
That swift as quickesiluer, it posteth through
The naturall gates and allies of the body,
And turnes the thinne and wholesome blood
Like eager dropings into milke. 120
And all my smoothe body, barked, and tetterd ouer.
Thus was I sleeping by a brothers hand
Of Crowne, of Queene, of life, of dignitie
At once depriued, no reckoning made of,
But sent vnto my graue, 125
With all my accompts and sinnes vpon my head,
O horrible, most horrible!
Ham. O God!
Ghost If thou hast nature in thee, beare it not,
But howsoeuer, let not thy heart 130
Conspire against thy mother aught,
Leaue her to heauen,
And to the burthen that her conscience beares.
I must be gone, the Glo-worme shewes the Martin
To be neere, and gin's to pale his vneffectuall fire: 135
Hamlet adue, adue, adue: remember me. [Exit
Ham. O all you hoste of heauen! O earth, what else?
And shall I couple hell; remember thee?
Yes thou poore Ghost; from the tables
Of my memorie, ile wipe away all sawes of Bookes, 140
All triuiall fond conceites
That euer youth, or else obseruance noted,
And thy remembrance, all alone shall sit.
Yes, yes, by heauen, a damnd pernitious villaine,
Murderons, bawdy, smiling damned villaine, 145
(My tables) meet it is I set it downe,
That one may smile, and smile, and be a villayne;
At least I am sure, it may be so in Denmarke.
So vncle, there you are, there you are.
Now to the words; it is adue adue: remember me, 150
Soe t'is enough I haue sworne.
Hor. My lord, my lord. Enter. Horatio, and Marcellus.
Mar. Lord Hamlet.
Hor. Ill, lo, lo, ho, ho.
Mar. Ill, lo, lo, so, ho, so, come boy, come. 155