Hor. It beckons you to go away with it,

As if it some impartment did desire

To you alone.

Mar.

Look, with what courteous action

It waves you to a more removed ground:2

But do not go with it.

Hor.

No, by no means.

Ham. It will not speak; then I will follow it.

Hor. Do not, my lord.

Ham.

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?

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

Hor. 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,
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 fathoms to the sea,

And hears it roar beneath.

Ham.

Go on, I'll follow thee.

It waves me still :

Mar. You shall not go, my lord.

2

3

a more removed ground:] i. e. remote.
pin's fee;] The value of a pin.

4 That beetles o'er his base - That hangs o'er his base, like what is called a beetle brow. A verb probably of our author's coinage.

5

- deprive your sovereignty of reason,] i. e. your ruling power of reason. When poets wish to invest any quality or virtue with uncommon splendour, they do it by some allusion to regal eminence.

6-puts toys of desperation, Toys, for whims.

Act I.

London Pub. Aug.2.1801. by F.& C.Rivington St Pauls Church Yard.

Ham.

Hold off your hands.

Hor. Be rul'd, you shall not go.

Ham.

My fate cries out,

And makes each petty artery in this body
As hardy as the Némeon lion's nerve.-

[Ghost beckons.

Still am I call'd;-unhand me, gentlemen ;

[Breaking from them. By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me:

I say, away: Go on, I'll follow thee.

[Ereunt Ghost and HAMLET.

Hor. He waxes desperate with imagination.
Mar. Let's follow; 'tis not fit thus to obey him.
Hor. Have after:--To what issue will this come?
Mar. Something is rotten in the state of Den-

mark.

Hor. Heaven will direct it.
Mar.

Nay, let's follow him, [Exeunt.

SCENE V.

A more remote Part of the Platform.

Re-enter Ghost and HAMLET.

Ham. Whither wilt thou lead me? speak, I'll go

no further.

Ghost. Mark me.

Ghost. Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing

To what I shall unfold.

Ham.

Speak, I am bound to hear. Ghost. So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear. Ham. 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,
Like quills upon the fretful porcupine:
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,-

Ham. O heaven!

Ghost. Revenge his foul and most unnatural

murder.

Ham. Murder?

Ghost. Murder most foul, as in the best it is;

But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.

Ham. Haste me to know it; 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 should'st thou be than the fat weed
That rots itself in ease on Lethe wharf,

8 And duller should'st thou be than the fat weed

That rots itself in ease on Lethe wharf,] Shakspeare, apparently through ignorance, makes Roman Catholicks of these Pagan Danes; and here gives a description of purgatory; but yet mixes it with the Pagan fable of Lethe's wharf.