Without more motive, into every brain
That looks so many fathoms to the sea
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.
Horatio
Be rul'd; you shall not go.
Hamlet
My fate cries out,
And makes each petty artery in this body
As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve.
[Ghost beckons]
Still am I call'd. Unhand me, gentlemen.
[Breaking free from them]
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.
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.
[Exeunt]
A more remote part of the Castle
Enter Ghost and Hamlet
Hamlet
Whither wilt thou lead me? Speak, I'll go
no further.
Ghost
Mark me.
Hamlet
I will.
Ghost
My hour is almost come,
When I to sulph'rous and tormenting flames
Must render up myself.
Hamlet
Alas, poor ghost!
Ghost
Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing
To what I shall unfold.
Hamlet
Speak, I am bound to hear.
Ghost
So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear.
Hamlet
What?
Ghost
I am thy father's spirit,
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,
I could a tale unfold whose lightest word
Would harrow up thy soul; freeze thy young
blood,
Make thy two eyes like stars start from their
spheres,
Thy knotted and combined locks to part,
And each particular hair to stand on end
Like quills upon the fretful porpentine.
But this eternal blazon must not be
To ears of flesh and blood. List, list, O, list!
If thou didst ever thy dear father love —
Hamlet
O God!
Ghost
Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder.
Hamlet
Murder!
Ghost
Murder most foul, as in the best it is;
But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.
Hamlet
Haste me to know't, that I, with wings as swift
As meditation or the thoughts of love
May sweep to my revenge.
Ghost
I find thee apt;
And duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed