Hamlet (Quarto 1, 1603)
Not Peer Reviewed
Prince of Denmarke.
¶Hor. Indeed I heard it not, what doth this mean my lord?
¶And as he dreames, his draughts of renish downe,
615The kettle, drumme, and trumpet, thus bray out,
¶The triumphes of his pledge.
¶Natiue here, and to the maner borne,
620It is a custome, more honourd in the breach,
¶Then in the obseruance.
¶
Enter the Ghost.
¶Hor. Looke my Lord, it comes.
625Be thou a spirite of health, or goblin damn'd,
¶Bring with thee ayres from heanen, or blasts from hell:
¶Be thy intents wicked or charitable,
¶That I will speake to thee,
Ile call thee Hamlet, King, Father, Royall Dane,
¶Haue burst their ceremonies: why thy Sepulcher,
¶In which wee saw thee quietly interr'd,
635Hath burst his ponderous and marble Iawes,
¶To cast thee vp againe: what may this meane,
¶Making night hideous, and we fooles of nature,
¶With thoughts beyond the reaches of our soules?
¶Say, speake, wherefore, what may this meane?
645To impart to you alone.
¶Mar. Looke with what courteous action
¶It waues you to a more remoued ground,
C3
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