_Ham._ Ay, marry, is't:[364] But to my mind, though I am native here[365] And to the manner born, it is a custom 15 More honour'd in the breach than the observance. This heavy-headed revel east and west[366][367][368][369] Makes us traduced and tax'd of other nations:[366][367][369][370] They clepe us drunkards, and with swinish phrase[366][367][371] Soil our addition; and indeed it takes[366][367] 20 From our achievements, though perform'd at height,[366][367] The pith and marrow of our attribute.[366][367] So, oft it chances in particular men,[366][367][372] That for some vicious mole of nature in them,[366][367][373] As, in their birth,--wherein they are not guilty,[366][367] 25 Since nature cannot choose his origin,--[366][367] By the o'ergrowth of some complexion,[366][367][374] Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason,[366][367] Or by some habit that too much o'er-leavens[366][367] The form of plausive manners, that these men,--[366][367] 30 Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect,[366][367] Being nature's livery, or fortune's star,--[366][367][375] Their virtues else--be they as pure as grace,[366][367][376] As infinite as man may undergo--[366][367] Shall in the general censure take corruption[366][367] 35 From that particular fault: the dram of eale[366][367][377][378] Doth all the noble substance of a doubt[367][377][378] To his own scandal.[367][377][379] _Enter Ghost._ _Hor._ Look, my lord, it comes![380] _Ham._ Angels and ministers of grace defend us![381] Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damn'd, 40 Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell, Be thy intents wicked or charitable,[382] Thou comest in such a questionable shape[383] That I will speak to thee: I'll call thee Hamlet, King, father, royal Dane: O, answer me![384] 45 Let me not burst in ignorance; but tell[385] Why thy canonized bones, hearsed in death,[385][386] Have burst their cerements; why the sepulchre,[387] Wherein we saw thee quietly inurn'd,[388] Hath oped his ponderous and marble jaws, 50 To cast thee up again. What may this mean, That thou, dead corse, again, in complete steel, Revisit'st thus the glimpses of the moon,[389] Making night hideous; and we fools of nature[390] So horridly to shake our disposition[391] 55 With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls?[392] Say, why is this? wherefore? what should we do?[393] [_Ghost beckons Hamlet._ _Hor._ It beckons you to go away with it, As if it some impartment did desire To you alone.