To Cast Thee Up Again What May This Mean
Hamlet Translation Human action one, Scene 4
HAMLET, HORATIO, and MARCELLUS enter.
HAMLET
The air bites shrewdly. It is very common cold.
HAMLET
The air bites wickedly. It is very cold.
HORATIO
It is a nipping and an eager air.
HORATIO
Yes, the air is nipping and precipitous.
Hamlet
What time is information technology now?
HORATIO
I think it lacks of twelve.
HORATIO
Just earlier twelve, I think.
MARCELLUS
No, information technology is struck.
MARCELLUS
No, the clock struck twelve.
HORATIO
Indeed? I heard it not. It then draws well-nigh the season Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk.
HORATIO
Really? I didn't hear information technology. So it's getting close to the time when the ghost usually appears.
Trumpets sound, and ii cannons burn down.
HORATIO
What does this mean, my lord?
HORATIO
What does that mean, sir?
Village
The king doth wake tonight and takes his rouse, Keeps wassail and the swaggering upspring reels, And, as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down, The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out The triumph of his pledge.
HAMLET
The king is staying up belatedly partying. And as he carouses, and dances, and guzzles his German wine, the musicians play the drum and trumpet to mark each time he drinks another cup.
HORATIO
Is that a tradition?
Hamlet
Ay, marry, is 't. But to my mind, though I am native hither And to the manner born, it is a custom More honored in the breach than the observance. This heavy-headed revel east and westward Makes us traduced and taxed of other nations. They clepe us drunkards and with swinish phrase Soil our improver. And indeed it takes From our achievements, though performed at height, The pith and marrow of our attribute. So oft it chances in particular men That for some fell mole of nature in them— As in their birth (wherein they are not guilty, Since nature cannot choose his origin), Past the o'ergrowth of some complexion, Oft breaking downwards 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'south livery or fortune'due south star, Their virtues else (exist they as pure as grace, As infinite as homo may undergo) Shall in the general censure accept corruption From that particular fault. The dram of evil Doth all the noble substance of a doubt To his ain scandal.
HAMLET
It is. Merely in my stance—though I was born hither and should think it natural—I'd say it's a custom that we'd be meliorate off ignoring rather than observing. Countries to the due east and west mock and criticize u.s.a. for our partying. They call the states drunks and pigs, staining our reputation. And they're right—our behavior does reduce our achievements, despite their greatness, because it is a flaw in our core qualities. It's similar to what happens to certain people who are born with some terrible defect (a defect for which they bear no responsibility, since no one can choose his own kickoff); or some excess of a more normal trait; or some kind of compulsion that makes it impossible for them to act in a way that pleases others. For such men as these—even if they are kind or limitlessly talented—this single defect, whether they were born with information technology or got information technology through some misfortune, will effect in others ever seeing them as corrupt or evil. That tiny bit of evil casts dubiousness on all their practiced qualities and wrecks their reputations.
HORATIO
Look, my lord, it comes!
HORATIO
Look, hither comes the ghost, my lord!
HAMLET
Angels and ministers of grace defend us! Be 1000 a spirit of wellness or goblin damned, Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell, Be thy intents wicked or charitable, Chiliad comest in such a questionable shape That I volition speak to thee. I'll call thee "Hamlet," "King," "Father," "royal Dane." O, answer me! Permit me not burst in ignorance, only tell Why thy canonized bones, hearsed in death, Have burst their cerements; why the sepulcher, Wherein we saw thee quietly interred, Hath oped his ponderous and marble jaws To cast thee upwards once again. What may this hateful, That thou, dead corse, again in complete steel Revisits thus the glimpses of the moon, Making night hideous and we fools of nature, And so horridly to shake our disposition With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls? Say why is this? Wherefore? What should we do?
Hamlet
Angels protect us! Whether you're a good spirit bringing breezes from sky, or an evil demon wielding hell fire, whether your intentions are wicked or friendly, you appear in a shape that invites and so many questions that I must speak to you lot. I'll call y'all "Hamlet," "King," "Father," "imperial Dane." Oh, answer me! Don't brand me explode from marvel. Tell me why your bones, which were blest and sanctified in burial rites, have burst out of their coffin, and why your tomb, in whose quiet nosotros buried y'all, has opened up its weighty marble jaws to spit you out once more. What does it hateful that you, expressionless corpse, once once more walk beneath the moon in full armor—making the night terrifying, and forcing on us mere mortals to confront thoughts that are beyond our ability to understand? Tell me why? Why? What should nosotros practice?
The GHOST motions for Village to follow it.
HORATIO
Information technology beckons you lot to go away with information technology, As if it some impartment did want To you lone.
HORATIO
It motions you lot to go off with it, as if it wants to say something to yous alone.
MARCELLUS
Look, with what courteous action It waves you to a more than removèd ground. But practice not go with it.
MARCELLUS
Look how politely it's directing you to go to a spot that's farther abroad. Just don't get with it.
HORATIO
No, by all means practice not.
HAMLET
It will not speak. Then I will follow it.
Village
Information technology'due south non going to speak here. So I volition follow it.
HAMLET
Why, what should be the fear? I practise not set my life in a pin's fee, And for my soul—what can it exercise to that, Being a thing immortal as itself? Information technology waves me along over again. I'll follow information technology.
HAMLET
Why, what should I fright? I don't value my life at even the cost of a pivot. And as for my soul, what tin can the ghost do to that, since it's every bit immortal as the ghost is? It's waving for me to come later it again. I'll follow it.
HORATIO
What if information technology tempt you toward the flood, my lord, Or to the dreadful elevation of the cliff That beetles o'er his base into the ocean, And there assume some other horrible form, Which might deprive your sovereignty of reason And draw you into madness? Think of it. The very identify puts toys of desperation, Without more motive, into every brain That looks so many fathoms to the ocean And hears information technology roar below.
HORATIO
What if it leads you toward the ocean, my lord? Or to the high cliff that overhangs the bounding main, and then morphs into a beast so horrible that seeing it drives yous insane? Think almost it. That cliff's edge over the bounding main—with its view into those watery depths and the roar of the crashing waves—makes people feel despair even when they have no reason to.
HAMLET
It waves me nonetheless. —Go on. I'll follow thee.
HAMLET
It'southward all the same waving to me.
[To the GHOST] Continue, I'll follow you.
MARCELLUS
Yous shall not go, my lord.
MARCELLUS
You lot will not go, my lord.
MARCELLUS and HORATIO attempt to agree Hamlet back.
Village
Agree off your hands.
HORATIO
Be ruled. You shall non go.
HORATIO
Heed to us. You must not get.
HAMLET
My fate cries out And makes each little artery in this body Equally hardy as the Nemean king of beasts's nerve. Nevertheless am I chosen.—Unhand me, gentlemen. [draws his sword] Past sky, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me. I say, abroad! —Proceed. I'll follow thee.
Village
My fate calls out to me, making every sinew of my body as taut every bit those of the legendary Nemean lion . The ghost still motions for me. Let go of me, gentlemen. [He draws his sword] By God, I'll make a ghost of whatever of you lot who holds me back! I say, move away!
[To the GHOST] Get on. I'll follow you.
The GHOST and HAMLET exit.
HORATIO
He waxes drastic with imagination.
HORATIO
His wild thoughts have fabricated him drastic.
MARCELLUS
Let's follow. 'Tis not fit thus to obey him.
MARCELLUS
Let'southward follow him. It's not right for u.s.a. to obey his orders to stay away.
HORATIO
Have after. To what effect will this come?
HORATIO
Let's go afterwards him. Merely what does all this mean?
MARCELLUS
Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.
MARCELLUS
That something is wrong in the state of Denmark.
HORATIO
Sky will direct information technology.
HORATIO
God will decide what will come up of all this.
MARCELLUS
Nay, allow'southward follow him.
MARCELLUS
No, let'due south follow him.
Source: https://www.litcharts.com/shakescleare/shakespeare-translations/hamlet/act-1-scene-4
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