Ham. Give me your pardon, fir: I have done

you wrong;

But pardon it as you are a gentleman.

This prefence knows, and you must needs have heard,
How I am punish'd with a fore distraction.
What I have done,

That might your nature, honour, and exception,
Roughly awake, I here proclaim was madness.
Was't Hamlet wrong'd Laertes? Never, Hamlet;
If Hamlet from himself be ta'en away,

And, when he's not himself, does wrong Laertes,
Then Hamlet does it not, Hamlet denies it.
Who does it then? His madness: If't be fo,
Hamlet is of the faction that is wrong'd;
His madness is poor Hamlet's enemy.

Sir, in this audience,

Let my difclaiming from a purpos'd evil

Free me fo far in your moft generous thoughts,
That I have fhot my arrow o'er the house,
And hurt my brother.

Laer. I am fatisfy'd in nature,

Whofe motive, in this case, should stir me most
To my revenge: but in my terms of honour
I ftand aloof; and will no reconcilement,
'Till by fome elder masters of known honour,
I have a voice and precedent of peace,

To keep my name ungor'd: But, 'till that time,
I do receive your offer'd love like love,
And will not wrong it.

Ham. I embrace it freely;

And will this brother's wager frankly play.--
Give us the foils; come on.

Laer. Come, one for me.

Ham. I'll be your foil, Laertes; in mine ignorance

Your

Your fkill fhall, like a star i' the darkest night,

Stick fiery off indeed.

Laer. You mock me, fir.

Ham. Give them the foils, young Ofrick.-Coufir You know the wager?

Ham. Very well, my lord;

[Hamlet,

Your grace hath laid the odds o' the weakest fide.
King. I do not fear it; I have feen you both:
But fince he's better'd, we have therefore odds.
Laer. This is too heavy, let me fee another.
Ham. This like's me well: Thefe foils have all
a length ?
[They prepare toʻplay.
Ofr. Ay, my good lord.

King. Set me the ftoups of wine upon that table;If Hamlet give the first, or fecond hit,

Or quit in answer of the third exchange,

Let all the battlements their ordnance fire:
The king shall drink to Hamlet's better breath;
And in the cup an union thall he throw,
Richer than that which four fucceffive kings
In Denmark's crown have worn: Give me the cups;
And let the kettle to the trumpet speak,

The trumpet to the cannoneer without,

The cannons to the heavens, the heavens to earth, Now the king drinks to Hamlet.-Come, begin ;And you, the judges, bear a wary eye.

Ham. Come on, fir.

Laer. Come, my lord.

Ham. One.

Laer. No.

-Ham. Judgment.

Ofr. A hit, a very palpable hit.

[They play.

Laer. Well,

-again,

King. Stay,give me drink: Hamlet, this pearl is Here's to thy health. Give him the cup. [thine; [Trumpets found; fhot goes off Ham. I'll play this bout first, fet it by a while. [They play.

Come.-Another hit; what fay you?
Laer. A touch, a touch, I do confefs.
King. Our fon fhall win.

Queen. He's fat and scant of breath.

Here, Hamlet, take my napkin, rub thy brows:
The queen carouses to thy fortune, Hamlet.
Ham. Good madam-

I

I

King. Gertrude, do not drink.

Queen. I will, my lord; I pray you, pardon me.
King. It is the poifon'd cup; it is too late. [Afide.
Ham. I dare not drink yet, madam; by and by.
Queen. Come, let me wipe thy face.

Laer. My lord, I'll hit him now.
King. I do not think't.

Laer. And yet it is almost against my confci

ence.

[Afide. Ham. Come, for the third, Laertes; You do but pray you, pafs with your beft violence; [dally; am afraid you make a wanton of me.

Laer. Say you fo? come on.

Ofr. Nothing neither way.

Laer. Have at you now.

[Play.

LAERTES wounds HAMLET; then, in fcuffling, they change rapiers, and HAMLET wounds LAERTES. King. Part them, they are incens'd.

Ham. Nay, come again.

Ofr. Look to the queen there,ho! [The Queen falls. Hor. They bleed on both fides :-How is it, my Ofr. How is't, Laertes?

[lord?

Lacr.

Laer. Why, as a woodcock to my own spring
Ofrick;

I am juftly kill'd with mine own treachery.
Ham. How does the queen?

King. She fwoons to fee them bleed.

Queen. No, no, the drink, the drink,-O my dear Hamlet!

The drink, the drink!-I am poisoned.

[The Queen dies. Ham. O villany!-Ho! let the door be lock'd: Treachery feek it out.

Laer. It is here, Hamlet: Hamlet, thou art flain: No medicine in the world can do thee good, In thee there is not half an hour's life; The treacherous inftrument 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 poifon'd; I can no more, the king, the king's to blame. Ham. The point envenom'd too!—

Then, venom, to thy work.

All. Treafon ! treafon !

[Stabs the King.

King. O, yet defend me, friends, I am but hurt. Ham. Here thou incestuous, murd'rous, damned Drink off this potion:-Is the union here? [Dane, Follow my mother.

Laer. He is juftly ferv'd;

It is a poifon temper'd by himself.

[King dies.

Exchange forgiveness with me, noble Hamlet: Mine and my father's death come not upon thee; Nor thine on me!

[Dies.

Ham. Heaven make thee free of it! I follow thee, I am dead, Horatio:-Wretched queen, adieu !You look that pale and tremble at this chance,

That

That are but mutes or audience to this act,
Had I but time (as this fell ferjeant, death,
Is ftrict in his arreft) O, I could tell you-
But let it be:-Horatio, I am dead
Thou liv'ft; report me and my cause aright
To the unfatisfied.

Hor. Never believe it;

I am more an antique Roman than a Dane,
Here's yet fome liquor left.

Ham. As thou'rt a man

Give me the cup; let go, by heaven I'll have it.-
O God!-Horatio, what a wounded name,
Things ftanding thus unknown, fhall live behind
If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart,
Abfent thee from felicity a while,

[me?

And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain,
To tell my story.[March afar off, and foot within.
What warlike noife is this?

Ofr. Young Fortinbras, with conquest come from
Poland,

To the embaffadors of England gives
This warlike volley.

Ham. O, I die, Horatio!

The potent poifon quite o'ergrows my spirit:
I cannot live to hear the news from England:
But I do prophefy the election lights

On Fortinbras; he has my dying voice;

So tell him, with the occurrents, more and lefs,
Which have folicited-The reft is filence. [Dies.
Hor. How cracks a noble heart :-Good night,
fweet prince;

And flights of angels fing thee to thy reft!--
Why does the drum come hither?

M

Enter