HAMLET: Speak. I'll go no further.
GHOST: Mark me.
HAMLET: I will.
GHOST: My hour is almost come, when I to sulfurous 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, doomed for a certain term to walk the night, and for the day confined to fast in fires, till the foul crimes that I've done in my days of nature are burnt and purged away.
SARAH: Well, it's certainly Hamlet's father. Seems he's about to reveal something huge.
GHOST: 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. But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.
SARAH: Murder most foul. Apparently, the king was murdered. Who would do such a thing?
GHOST: 'Tis given out that, sleeping in my orchard, a serpent stung me. So the whole of Denmark, by a forged process of my death, is rankly abused. But know, thou noble youth, the serpent that did sting thy father's life now wears his crown.
HAMLET: O my prophetic soul! My uncle!
GHOST: Aye, that incestuous, that adulterate beast, with witchcraft of wit, with traitorous gifts—wicked wit and gifts that have the power so to seduce—won to his lustful shame the will of my most seeming-virtuous queen.
SARAH: Are you getting all of this, Ralph? Claudius killed his own brother and seduced the queen to get the throne. And it sounds like Hamlet suspected it all along.
HAMLET: But, soft! Methinks I scent the morning air. Brief let me be. Sleeping within my orchard, my custom always of the afternoon, thy uncle stole upon my secure hour with juice of cursed hebona in a vial, and into the porches of my ear did pour the leprous distillment, whose effect has such an enmity to blood of man that swift as quicksilver, it courses through the natural gates and alleys of the body, and with a sudden vigor doth posset and curd, like eager droppings into milk, the thin and wholesome blood. So did it mine. Cut off even in the—
SARAH: The poor man. His life, his crown, his own wife, all taken from him in an instant.
HAMLET: —all my imperfections on my head. How horrible! How horrible! Most horrible!
GHOST: Let not thy royal bed of Denmark be a couch for luxury and damned incest. But howsoever thou pursues this act, taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive against thy mother aught. Leave her to heaven. Fare thee well at once. The glowworm doth show the matin to be near, and gins to pale his uneffectual fire. Adieu, adieu, adieu. Remember me.
HAMLET: O all you host of heaven! Thou earth! What else? And shall I couple hell? O, fie! Hold, my heart. And you, my sinews, grow not so instant old, but bear me stiffly up. Remember thee! Aye, thou ghost! While memory holds a seat in this distracted globe. Remember thee! Yea. From the table of my memory I'll wipe away all trivial fond records, all saws of books, all forms, all pressures past, that youth and observation copied there. And thy commandment all alone shall live within the book and volume of my brain, unmixed with baser matter. Yes, by heaven! O, most pernicious woman! O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain! My tables, meet it is I set it down, that one may smile, and smile, and be a villain. At least I'm sure it may be so in Denmark. So, uncle, there you are. And now, to my word. It is adieu, adieu! Remember me. I have sworn't!
RALPH: Wow. So there it is. Your father killed by your uncle, who now has his throne and his queen, your mother.
HAMLET: You don't tell anyone about this. Anyone.
RALPH: Uh, your secret's safe with me. So what are you thinking?
HAMLET: A villain is a villain.
RALPH: Yes, it's hard to argue with that.
HAMLET: No matter how much he may smile in public. So thank you for having me. It was nice talking to you, Ralph, but if you'll excuse me, I need to go.
RALPH: Oh, well, hold on. I didn't think we were quite done yet here.
HAMLET: Oh. Sorry. Sorry. I didn't mean to offend you.
RALPH: Well, none taken.
HAMLET: Somebody has been offended, though. More than offended. The ghost was telling the truth. You cannot tell anyone about this.
RALPH: No, I won't.
HAMLET: Swear.
RALPH: Really, I won't.
HAMLET: Swear on my dagger.
GHOST: Swear.
HAMLET: Did you hear that?
RALPH: Holy—what—what was that?
HAMLET: Swear.
RALPH: You mean, just swear not to tell anybody?
GHOST: Swear.
HAMLET: Well said, old mole. There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.
RALPH: Did you just call me Horatio?
HAMLET: Oh, yeah. One more thing. I'm going to start acting a little bit crazy. That's going to continue. And I need you to keep your mouth shut about it. OK?
GHOST: Swear.
HAMLET: Still your fingers on your lips, I pray. Time is out of joint. O cursed spite, that ever I was born to set it right.
RALPH: Will Hamlet set it right? We'll find out right after this.