Hamlet

Is by a forged process42 of my death

Rankly43 abused. But know thou, noble youth,

The serpent that did sting thy father's life

Now wears his crown.

HAMLET O, my prophetic soul! Mine uncle!

GHOST Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate47 beast,

With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts48 --

O, wicked wit and gifts, that have the power

So to seduce! -- won to his shameful lust

The will51 of my most seeming-virtuous queen.

O Hamlet, what a falling-off was there!

From me, whose love was of that dignity53

That it went hand in hand even with the vow

I made to her in marriage, and to decline55

Upon a wretch whose natural gifts were poor

To those of mine!

But virtue, as it58 never will be moved,

Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven,

So lust, though to a radiant angel linked,

Will sate itself61 in a celestial bed,

And prey on garbage62.

But, soft, methinks I scent the morning's air;

Brief let me be. Sleeping within mine orchard,

My custom always in the afternoon,

Upon my secure66 hour thy uncle stole,

With juice of cursed hebenon67 in a vial,

And in the porches of mine ears did pour

The leperous distilment69, whose effect

Holds such an enmity with blood of man

That swift as quicksilver71 it courses through