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some habit that too much o'erleavens

      The form of plausive manners, that these men

      Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect,

      Being nature's livery, or fortune's star, 660

      Their virtues else- be they as pure as grace,

      As infinite as man may undergo-

      Shall in the general censure take corruption

      From that particular fault. The dram of e'il

      Doth all the noble substance often dout To his own scandal. 665

      Enter Ghost.

      Horatio. Look, my lord, it comes!

      Hamlet. Angels and ministers of grace defend us!

      Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damn'd,

      Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell, 670

      Be thy intents wicked or charitable,

      Thou com'st in such a questionable shape

      That I will speak to thee. I'll call thee Hamlet,

      King, father, royal Dane. O, answer me?

      Let me not burst in ignorance, but tell 675

      Why thy canoniz'd bones, hearsed in death,

      Have burst their cerements; why the sepulchre

      Wherein we saw thee quietly inurn'd,

      Hath op'd his ponderous and marble jaws

      To cast thee up again. What may this mean 680

      That thou, dead corse, again in complete steel,

      Revisits thus the glimpses of the moon,

      Making night hideous, and we fools of nature

      So horridly to shake our disposition

      With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls? 685

      Say, why is this? wherefore? What should we do?

      Ghost beckons Hamlet.

      Horatio. It beckons you to go away with it,

      As if it some impartment did desire

      To you alone. 690

      Marcellus. Look with what courteous action

      It waves you to a more removed ground.

      But do not go with it!

      Horatio. No, by no means!

      Hamlet. It will not speak. Then will I follow it. 695

      Horatio. Do not, my lord!

      Hamlet. Why, what should be the fear?

      I do not set my life at a pin's fee;

      And for my soul, what can it do to that,

      Being a thing immortal as itself? 700

      It waves me forth again. I'll follow it.

      Horatio. What if it tempt you toward the flood, my lord,

      Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff

      That beetles o'er his base into the sea,

      And there assume some other, horrible form 705

      Which might deprive your sovereignty of reason

      And draw you into madness? Think of it.

      The very place puts toys of desperation,

      Without more motive, into every brain

      That looks so many fadoms to the sea 710

      And hears it roar beneath.

      Hamlet. It waves me still.

      Go on. I'll follow thee.

      Marcellus. You shall not go, my lord.

      Hamlet. Hold off your hands! 715

      Horatio. Be rul'd. You shall not go.

      Hamlet. My fate cries out

      And makes each petty artire in this body

      As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve.

      [Ghost beckons.] 720

      Still am I call'd. Unhand me, gentlemen.

      By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me! —

      I say, away! — Go on. I'll follow thee.

      Exeunt Ghost and Hamlet.

      Horatio. He waxes desperate with imagination. 725

      Marcellus. Let's follow. 'Tis not fit thus to obey him.

      Horatio. Have after. To what issue will this come?

      Marcellus. Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.

      Horatio. Heaven will direct it.

      Marcellus. Nay, let's follow him. 730

      Exeunt.

      Act I, Scene 5.

      Elsinore. The Castle. Another part of the fortifications.

      Enter Ghost and Hamlet.

      Hamlet. Whither wilt thou lead me? Speak! I'll go no further.

      Father's Ghost. Mark me.

      Hamlet. I will. 735

      Father's Ghost. My hour is almost come,

      When I to sulph'rous and tormenting flames

      Must render up myself.

      Hamlet. Alas, poor ghost!

      Father's Ghost. Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing 740

      To what I shall unfold.

      Hamlet. Speak. I am bound to hear.

      Father's Ghost. So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear.

      Hamlet. What?

      Father's Ghost. I am thy father's spirit, 745

      Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night,

      And for the day confin'd to fast in fires,

      Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature

      Are burnt and purg'd away. But that I am forbid

      To tell the secrets of my prison house, 750

      I could a tale unfold whose lightest word

      Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood,

      Make

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