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Section 228
Passage 1 of 2 · section 228 of 1223
1Ghost.
2I finde thee apt,
3And duller should'st thou be then the fat weede
4That rots it selfe in ease, on Lethe Wharfe,
5Would'st thou not stirre in this. Now Hamlet heare:
6It's giuen out, that sleeping in mine Orchard,
7A Serpent stung me: so the whole eare of Denmarke,
8Is by a forged processe of my death