Читать книгу Hamlet. Macbeth / Гамлет. Макбет онлайн

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 artery in this body

As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve.

[Ghost beckons]

Still am I call'd. Unhand me, gentlemen.

[Breaking free from them]

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]

A more remote part of the Castle

Enter Ghost and Hamlet

Hamlet

Whither wilt thou lead me? Speak, I'll go

                         no further.

Ghost

Mark me.

Hamlet

I will.

Ghost

My hour is almost come,

When I to sulph'rous and tormenting flames

Must render up myself.

Hamlet

Alas, poor ghost!

Ghost

Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing

To what I shall unfold.

Hamlet

Speak, I am bound to hear.

Ghost

So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear.

Hamlet

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,

And each particular hair to stand on end

Like quills upon the fretful porpentine.

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.

Hamlet

Murder!

Ghost

Murder most foul, as in the best it is;