Not of that dye which their inveitments thew, [Exeunt. Scene changes to the Platforın before the Palace. Enter HAMLET, HORATIO, and MARCELLUS. Hor. I heard it not: it then draws near the season, Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk. [Noise of warlike music within. What does this mean, my Lord? [rouse, Ham. The King doth wake to-night, and takes his Keeps wassel, and the swaggering up-fpring reels ; And as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down, The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out The triumph of his pledge. Hor. Is it a custom ? Ham. Ay, marry, is't: More honoured in the breach than the observance. This heavy-headed rével, east and west, (15) |