How say you then; would heart of man once think it?—But you’ll be secret?
Hor. and Mar.
Ay, by heaven, my lord.
Ham.
There’s ne’er a villain dwelling in all Denmark
But he’s an arrant knave.
Hor.
There needs no ghost, my lord, come from the grave
To tell us this.
Ham.
Why, right; you are i’ the right;
And so, without more circumstance at all,
I hold it fit that we shake hands and part:
You, as your business and desires shall point you,—
For every man hath business and desire,
Such as it is;—and for my own poor part,
Look you, I’ll go pray.
Hor.
These are but wild and whirling words, my lord.
Ham.
I’m sorry they offend you, heartily;
Yes, faith, heartily.
Hor.
There’s no offence, my lord.
Ham.
Yes, by Saint Patrick, but there is, Horatio,
And much offence too. Touching this vision here,—
It is an honest ghost, that let me tell you:
For your desire to know what is between us,
O’ermaster’t as you may. And now, good friends,
As you are friends, scholars, and soldiers,
Give me one poor request.
Hor.
What is’t, my lord? we will.
Ham.
Never make known what you have seen tonight.
Hor. and Mar.
My lord, we will not.
Ham.
Nay, but swear’t.
Hor.
In faith,
My lord, not I.
Mar.
Nor I, my lord, in faith.
Ham.
Upon my sword.
Mar.
We have sworn, my lord, already.
Ham.
Indeed, upon my sword, indeed.
Ghost.
[Beneath.] Swear.
Ham.
Ha, ha boy! say’st thou so? art thou there, truepenny?—
Come on!—you hear this fellow in the cellarage,—
Consent to swear.
Hor.
Propose the oath, my lord.
Ham.
Never to speak of this that you have seen,
Swear by my sword.
Ghost.
[Beneath.] Swear.
Ham.
Hic et ubique? then we’ll shift our ground.—
Come hither, gentlemen,
And lay your hands again upon my sword:
Never to speak of this that you have heard,
Swear by my sword.
Ghost.
[Beneath.] Swear.
Ham.
Well said, old mole! canst work i’ the earth so fast?
A worthy pioner!—Once more remove, good friends.
Hor.
O day and night, but this is wondrous strange!
Ham.
And therefore as a stranger give it welcome.
There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.
But come;—
Here, as before, never, so help you mercy,
How strange or odd soe’er I bear myself,—
As I, perchance, hereafter shall think meet
To put an antic disposition on,—
That you, at such times seeing me, never shall,
With arms encumber’d thus, or this head-shake,
Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase,
As ‘Well, well, we know’; or ‘We could, an if we would’;—
Or ‘If we list to speak’; or ‘There be, an if they might’;—
Or such ambiguous giving out, to note
That you know aught of me:—this is not to do,
So grace and mercy at your most need help you,
Swear.
Ghost.
[Beneath.] Swear.
Ham.
Rest, rest, perturbed spirit!—So, gentlemen,
With all my love I do commend me to you:
And what so poor a man as Hamlet is
May do, to express his love and friending to you,
God willing, shall not lack. Let us go in together;
