Hamlet. William Shakespeare

thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres,

      Thy knotted and combined locks to part,

      And each particular hair to stand on end 755

      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-

      Hamlet. O God! 760

      Father's Ghost. Revenge his foul and most unnatural murther.

      Hamlet. Murther?

      Father's Ghost. Murther 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 765

      As meditation or the thoughts of love,

      May sweep to my revenge.

      Father's Ghost. I find thee apt;

      And duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed

      That rots itself in ease on Lethe wharf, 770

      Wouldst thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear.

      'Tis given out that, sleeping in my orchard,

      A serpent stung me. So the whole ear of Denmark

      Is by a forged process of my death

      Rankly abus'd. But know, thou noble youth, 775

      The serpent that did sting thy father's life

      Now wears his crown.

      Hamlet. O my prophetic soul!

      My uncle?

      Father's Ghost. Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast, 780

      With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts-

      O wicked wit and gifts, that have the power

      So to seduce! — won to his shameful lust

      The will of my most seeming-virtuous queen.

      O Hamlet, what a falling-off was there, 785

      From me, whose love was of that dignity

      That it went hand in hand even with the vow

      I made to her in marriage, and to decline

      Upon a wretch whose natural gifts were poor

      To those of mine! 790

      But virtue, as it never will be mov'd,

      Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven,

      So lust, though to a radiant angel link'd,

      Will sate itself in a celestial bed

      And prey on garbage. 795

      But soft! methinks I scent the morning air.

      Brief let me be. Sleeping within my orchard,

      My custom always of the afternoon,

      Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole,

      With juice of cursed hebona in a vial, 800

      And in the porches of my ears did pour

      The leperous distilment; whose effect

      Holds such an enmity with blood of man

      That swift as quicksilver it courses through

      The natural gates and alleys of the body, 805

      And with a sudden vigour it doth posset

      And curd, like eager droppings into milk,

      The thin and wholesome blood. So did it mine;

      And a most instant tetter bark'd about,

      Most lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust 810

      All my smooth body.

      Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand

      Of life, of crown, of queen, at once dispatch'd;

      Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin,

      Unhous'led, disappointed, unanel'd, 815

      No reckoning made, but sent to my account

      With all my imperfections on my head.

      Hamlet. O, horrible! O, horrible! most horrible!

      Father's Ghost. If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not.

      Let not the royal bed of Denmark be 820

      A couch for luxury and damned incest.

      But, howsoever thou pursuest this act,

      Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive

      Against thy mother aught. Leave her to heaven,

      And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge 825

      To prick and sting her. Fare thee well at once.

      The glowworm shows the matin to be near

      And gins to pale his uneffectual fire.

      Adieu, adieu, adieu! Remember me. Exit.

      Hamlet. O all you host of heaven! O earth! What else? 830

      And shall I couple hell? Hold, hold, my heart!

      And you, my sinews, grow not instant old,

      But bear me stiffly up. Remember thee?

      Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat

      In this distracted globe. Remember thee? 835

      Yea, from the table of my memory

      I'll wipe away all trivial fond records,

      All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past

      That youth and observation copied there,

      And thy commandment all alone shall live 840

      Within the book and volume of my brain,

      Unmix'd with baser matter. Yes, by heaven!

      O most pernicious woman!

      O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain!

      My tables! Meet it is I set it down 845

      That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain;

      At least I am sure it may be so in Denmark. [Writes.]

      So, uncle, there you are. Now to my word: