Page 234 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3

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. [25]

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 [30]

May sweep to my revenge.

GHOST

I find thee apt.
And duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed
That roots itself in ease on Lethe wharf,
Wouldst thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear.

’Tis given out that, sleeping in my orchard, [35]
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,

The serpent that did sting thy father’s life
Now wears his crown. [40]

HAMLET
O my prophetic soul! My uncle!