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And in the cup a union shall he throw,
Richer than that which four successive 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. [He drinks.

[Drums and Trumpets sound, -Cannons shot off

within. Come begin; And you, the judges, bear a wary eye.

sir. Laer. Come, my lord. } They play. . S Ham. One. Laer. No. Ham. Judgment. Osr. A hit, a very palpable hit.

(Drums and Trumpets,-Cannon. Laer. Well, -again, King. Stay; give me the drink :-Hamlet, this

pearl is thine; [Puts Poison into the Cup. Here's to thy health.

[He pretends to drink. Give him the cup.

[Gives the Cup to Francisco. Ham. I'll play this bout first; set it by a while. Come. - [They play.) Another hit: What say you?

Laer. A touch, a touch, I do confess.
King. Our son shall win.

[Talks to MARCELLUS. Queen. The queen carouses to thy fortune, Ham

let. Ham. Good madam, [The QUEEN drinks.

[Drums and Trumpets,-Cannon. King. Gertrude, do not drink. Queen. I have, my lord, I pray you, pardon me. King. It is the poison'd cup; it is too late. [ Aside.

Laer. I'll hit him now:

And yet it is almost against my conscience.

[Aside.

Ham. 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.
Laer. Say you so ? come on.

[They play.-LAERTES wounds HAMLET: then, in scuffling, they change Foils. King. Part them, they are incens'd. Ham. Nay, come again.

[HAMLET wounds LAERTES, who falls. Queen. 0, 0, 0!— [She swoons. Osr. Look to the queen there, ho! Hor. How is it, my lord?

Osr. How is't, Laertes?

Laer. Why, as a woodcock to my own springe,

Osrick;

I am justly kill'd with mine own treachery.

Ham. 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.

[She dies.

Ham. O villainy!-Ho! let the door be lock'd: Treachery! seek it out.

Laer. 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's 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. Ham. The point

Envenom'd too! Then, venom, to thy work!—

I

Here, thou incestuous, murd'rous, damned Dane, [Stabs the KING, who dies.

Follow my mother.

Laer. He is justly serv'd.—
Exchange forgiveness with me, noble Hamlet:
Mine and my father's death come not upon
Nor thine on me!-

Ham. Heaven make thee free of it! I follow thee.You that look pale and tremble at this chance, That are but mutes or audience to this act, Had I but time,-as this fell serjeant, Death, Is strict in his arrest,-O, I could tell you,But let it be :-Horatio, I am dead; Thou liv'st; report me and my cause aright To the unsatisfied.

Hor. Never believe't;

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thee;

[He dies.

[Takes the Cup from FRANCISCO. I am more an antique Roman than a Dane,— Here's yet some liquor left.

Ham. As thou'rt a man,

[Snatches the Cup. Give me the cup; let go; by Heaven, I'll have it.— O, good Horatio, what a wounded name,

Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me!
If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart,
Absent thee from felicity a while,

And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain,
To tell my story.O, I die, Horatio!-

The potent poison quite o'ergrows my spirit :-
The rest is silence.-

[He dies. -Good night,

Hor. Now cracks a noble heart:-
sweet prince;

And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!
Give order, that these bodies

High on a stage be placed to the view;
And let me speak, to the yet unknowing world,

How these things came about.

Bear Hamlet, like a soldier, to the stage;
For he was likely, had he been put on,

To have prov'd most royally: and, for his passage,
The soldiers' music, and the rites of war,
Speak loudly for him.
Take

up the bodies :-Such a sight as this Becomes the field, but here shows much amiss.

(A Dead March.-Exeunt.

THE END,

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