Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Ham. And as he dreines his draughts of Renish downe,
Ham. The kettle Drum and Trumpet thus bray out
Ham. The triumph of his Pledge.
Horat. Horat.
Horat. Is it a custome?
Ham. Ham.
Ham. I marry ist;
Ham. And to my mind, though I am natiue heere,
Ham. And the manner borne: It is a CustomeThe final "e" here and in the previous line are only partially inked.
Ham. More honour'd in the breach, then the obseruance.
Ham. Enter Ghost.
Hor. Hor.
Hor. Looke my Lord, it comes.
Ham. Angels and Ministers of Grace defend vs:
Ham. Be thou a Spirit of health, or Goblin damn'd,
Ham. Bring with thee ayres from Heauen, or blasts from Hell,
Ham. Be thy euents wicked or charitable,
Ham. Thou com'st in such a questionable shape
Ham. That I will speake to thee. Ile call thee Hamlet,