Shakespeare's First Folio Part 594

King. Gertrude, do not drinke

Qu. I will my Lord; I pray you pardon me

King. It is the poyson'd Cup, it is too late

Ham. I dare not drinke yet Madam, By and by

Qu. Come, let me wipe thy face

Laer. My Lord, Ile hit him now

King. I do not thinke't

Laer. And yet 'tis almost 'gainst my conscience

Ham. Come for the third.

Laertes, you but dally, I pray you pa.s.se with your best violence, I am affear'd you make a wanton of me

Laer. Say you so? Come on.

Play.

Osr. Nothing neither way

Laer. Haue at you now.

In scuffling they change Rapiers.

King. Part them, they are incens'd

Ham. Nay come, againe

Osr. Looke to the Queene there hoa

Hor. They bleed on both sides. How is't my Lord?

Osr. How is't Laertes?

Laer. Why as a Woodc.o.c.ke To mine Sprindge, Osricke, I am iustly kill'd with mine owne Treacherie

Ham. How does the Queene?

King. She sounds to see them bleede

Qu. No, no, the drinke, the drinke.

Oh my deere Hamlet, the drinke, the drinke, I am poyson'd

Ham. Oh Villany! How? Let the doore be lock'd.

Treacherie, seeke it out

Laer. It is heere Hamlet.

Hamlet, thou art slaine, No Medicine in the world can do thee good.

In thee, there is not halfe an houre of life; The Treacherous Instrument is in thy hand, Vnbated and envenom'd: the foule practise Hath turn'd it selfe on me. Loe, heere I lye, Neuer to rise againe: Thy Mothers poyson'd: I can no more, the King, the King's too blame

Ham. The point envenom'd too, Then venome to thy worke.

Hurts the King.

All. Treason, Treason

King. O yet defend me Friends, I am but hurt

Ham. Heere thou incestuous, murdrous, d.a.m.ned Dane, Drinke off this Potion: Is thy Vnion heere?

Follow my Mother.

King Dyes.

Laer. He is iustly seru'd.

It is a poyson temp'red by himselfe: Exchange forgiuenesse with me, n.o.ble Hamlet; Mine and my Fathers death come not vpon thee, Nor thine on me.

Dyes.

Ham. Heauen make thee free of it, I follow thee.

I am dead Horatio, wretched Queene adiew, You that looke pale, and tremble at this chance, That are but Mutes or audience to this acte: Had I but time (as this fell Sergeant death Is strick'd in his Arrest) oh I could tell you.

But let it be: Horatio, I am dead, Thou liu'st, report me and my causes right To the vnsatisfied

Hor. Neuer beleeue it.

I am more an Antike Roman then a Dane: Heere's yet some Liquor left

Ham. As th'art a man, giue me the Cup.

Let go, by Heauen Ile haue't.

Oh good Horatio, what a wounded name, (Things standing thus vnknowne) shall liue behind me.

If thou did'st euer hold me in thy heart, Absent thee from felicitie awhile, And in this harsh world draw thy breath in paine, To tell my Storie.

March afarre off, and shout within.

What warlike noyse is this?

Enter Osricke.

Osr. Yong Fortinbras, with conquest come fro[m] Poland To th' Amba.s.sadors of England giues this warlike volly

Ham. O I dye Horatio: The potent poyson quite ore-crowes my spirit, I cannot liue to heare the Newes from England, But I do prophesie th' election lights On Fortinbras, he ha's my dying voyce, So tell him with the occurrents more and lesse, Which haue solicited. The rest is silence. O, o, o, o.

Dyes

Hora. Now cracke a n.o.ble heart: Goodnight sweet Prince, And flights of Angels sing thee to thy rest, Why do's the Drumme come hither?

Enter Fortinbras and English Amba.s.sador, with Drumme, Colours, and Attendants.

Fortin. Where is this sight?

Hor. What is it ye would see; If ought of woe, or wonder, cease your search