GHOST                        Fare thee well at once:

The glow-worm shows the matin to be near

And ’gins to pale his uneffectual fire.

Adieu, adieu, adieu, remember me. [ Exit.]

HAMLET         O all you host of heaven, O earth – what else? –

And shall I couple hell? O fie! Hold, hold, my heart,

And you, my sinews, grow not instant old

But bear me swiftly up.         (1.5.88-95)

Fare thee well at once: I’ve got to go RIGHT now, the glow-worm shows the matin to be near and ’gins to pale his uneffectual fire. It’s an odd shift in tone, that invocation of the glow-worm dimming because the light of dawn is appearing—and its light wasn’t much use anyway—something tiny, invisible, imaginary, flickers and goes out. So the Ghost evokes fading and dimming, set against the possibility of the growing light of daybreak; he’s suggesting his own imminent disappearing, creating the conditions of vanishing as something gradual, at the limits of perception (can you trust the evidence of your own eyes?) even as he prepares simply to walk off stage.

But after that tiny vignette, a nostalgic, wistful snapshot of life on earth, he gives his command: adieu, adieu, adieu, remember me. Goodbye—and he fades again, in the repetitions, which are simply goodbye, but also a literal commendation of his son to God, a father’s blessing, in a way—remember me. That’s the crucial bit, and it’s remembering, in those last words, not revenging, even though the two may be one and the same.

Hamlet stutters, stumbles, shakes, as he tries even to begin to process all this. O all you host of heaven—all angels, all you heavenly powers—and O earth. So, heaven and earth, give me strength! what else?—and shall I couple hell? Should I be calling on infernal powers too, in the face of this? O fie! Other f-words are available, and that’s certainly part of the mood here. Hold, hold, my heart, calm down, breathe, just breathe, then it might stop racing, pounding. And you, my sinews, grow not instant old but bear me swiftly up. Stop shaking, you fool! (Shaking, the palsy, is seen as a property of age.) Get a grip, calm down, keep breathing, stand still—and then you might be able to THINK.