Hamlet

Ham. This likes me well, These Foyles haue all a length. Prepare to play. Osricke. I my good Lord King. Set me the Stopes of wine vpon that Table: If Hamlet giue the first, or second hit, Or quit in answer of the third exchange, Let all the Battlements their Ordinance fire, The King shal drinke to Hamlets better breath, And in the Cup an vnion shal he throw Richer then that, which foure successiue Kings In Denmarkes Crowne haue worne. Giue me the Cups, And let the Kettle to the Trumpets speake, The Trumpet to the Cannoneer without, The Cannons to the Heauens, the Heauen to Earth, Now the King drinkes to Hamlet. Come, begin, And you the Iudges beare a wary eye Ham. Come on sir Laer. Come on sir. They play. Ham. One Laer. No Ham. Iudgement Osr. A hit, a very palpable hit Laer. Well: againe King. Stay, giue me drinke. Hamlet, this Pearle is thine, Here's to thy health. Giue him the cup, Trumpets sound, and shot goes off. Ham. Ile play this bout first, set by a-while. Come: Another hit; what say you? Laer. A touch, a touch, I do confesse King. Our Sonne shall win Qu. He's fat, and scant of breath. Heere's a Napkin, rub thy browes, The Queene Carowses to thy fortune, Hamlet Ham. Good Madam 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 passe 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 Woodcocke 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