William Shakespeare: Hamlet, Prince of Denmark

ACT I. 4. Scene IV. The platform. (continued)

Ham.
It waves me still.--
Go on; I'll follow thee.

Mar.
You shall not go, my lord.

Ham.
Hold off your hands.

Hor.
Be rul'd; you shall not go.

Ham.
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.]

Hor.
He waxes desperate with imagination.

Mar.
Let's follow; 'tis not fit thus to obey him.

Hor.
Have after.--To what issue will this come?

Mar.
Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.

Hor.
Heaven will direct it.

Mar.
Nay, let's follow him.

[Exeunt.]