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Queen:
He’s fat, and scant of breath.
Here, Hamlet, take my napkin, rub thy brows.
The Queen carouses to thy fortune, Hamlet.
Hamlet:
Good madam.
King:
Gertrude, do not drink.
Queen:
I will, my lord; I pray you pardon me.
King:
(Aside.) It is the poison’d cup; it is too late.
Hamlet:
I dare not drink yet, madam. By and by.
Queen:
Come, let me wipe thy face.
Laertes:
My lord, I’ll hit him now.
King:
I do not think’t.
Laertes:
(Aside.) And yet ’tis almost ’gainst my conscience.
Hamlet:
Come for the third, Laertes. You do but dally.
I pray you pass with your best violence.
I am afeard you make a wanton of me.
Laertes:
Say you so? Come on.
(They play.)
Osric:
Nothing neither way.
Laertes:
Have at you now.
(Laertes wounds Hamlet; then, in scuffling, they change rapiers, and Hamlet wounds Laertes.)
King:
Part them; they are incens’d.
Hamlet:
Nay, come again!
(The Queen falls.)
Osric:
Look to the Queen there, ho!
Horatio:
They bleed on both sides. How is it, my lord?
Osric:
How is’t, Laertes?
Laertes:
Why, as a woodcock to my own springe, Osric.
I am justly kill’d with mine own treachery.
Hamlet:
How does the Queen?
King:
She swoons to see them bleed.
Queen:
No, no, the drink, the drink! O my dear Hamlet!
The drink, the drink! I am poison’d.
(Dies.)
Hamlet:
O villany! Ho! Let the door be lock’d:
Treachery! Seek it out.
(Laertes falls.)
Laertes:
It is here, Hamlet. Hamlet, thou art slain.
No medicine in the world can do thee good.
In thee there is not half an hour of life;
The treacherous instrument is in thy hand,
Unbated and envenom’d. The foul practice
Hath turn’d itself on me. Lo, here I lie,
Never to rise again. Thy mother’s poison’d.
I can no more. The King, the King’s to blame.
Hamlet:
The point envenom’d too!
Then, venom, to thy work.
(Stabs the King.)
Osric and Lords:
Treason! treason!
King:
O yet defend me, friends. I am but hurt.
Hamlet:
Here, thou incestuous, murderous, damned Dane,
Drink off this potion. Is thy union here?
Follow my mother.
(King dies.)
Laertes:
He is justly serv’d.
It is a poison temper’d by himself.
Exchange forgiveness with me, noble Hamlet.
Mine and my father’s death come not upon thee,
Nor thine on me.
(Dies.)