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Hamlet
act i   Scene 4
William Shakespeare
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       Elsinore. The platform before the Castle.
       Enter Hamlet, Horatio, and Marcellus.
       HAMLET
       The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold.
       HORATIO
       It is a nipping and an eager air.
       HAMLET
       What hour now?
       HORATIO
       I think it lacks of twelve.
       MARCELLUS
       No, it is struck.
       HORATIO
       Indeed? I heard it not. It then draws near the season
       Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk.
       A flourish of trumpets, and two pieces go off.
       What does this mean, my lord?
       HAMLET
       The King doth wake to-night and takes his rouse,
       Keeps wassail, and the swagg'ring upspring reels,
       And, as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down,
       The kettledrum and trumpet thus bray out
       The triumph of his pledge.
       HORATIO
       Is it a custom?
       HAMLET
       Ay, marry, is't;
       But to my mind, though I am native here
       And to the manner born, it is a custom
       More honour'd in the breach than the observance.
       This heavy-headed revel east and west
       Makes us traduc'd and tax'd of other nations;
       They clip us drunkards and with swinish phrase
       Soil our addition; and indeed it takes
       From our achievements, though perform'd at height,
       The pith and marrow of our attribute.
       So oft it chances in particular men
       That, for some vicious mole of nature in them,
       As in their birth,- wherein they are not guilty,
       Since nature cannot choose his origin,-
       By the o'ergrowth of some complexion,
       Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason,
       Or by 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,
       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.
       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,
       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
       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
       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?
       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.
       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.
       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?
       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
       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
       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 artire in this body
       As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve.
       [Ghost beckons.]
       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.
       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.
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本书目录

Dramatis Personae
act i
   Scene 1
   Scene 2
   Scene 3
   Scene 4
   Scene 5
act ii
   Scene 1
   Scene 2
act iii
   Scene 1
   Scene 2
   Scene 3
   Scene 4
act iv
   Scene 1
   Scene 2
   Scene 3
   Scene 4
   Scene 5
   Scene 6
   Scene 7
act v
   Scene 1
   Scene 2