Hamlet

In the same figure, like the King that's dead.
Unto young Hamlet, for upon my life, This spirit dumb to us, will speak to him
Thrift, thrift Horatio! The funeral baked meats did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables
Here lies Old Hamlet, R.I.P
O cursed spite, That ever I was born to set right
The serpant that did sting thy father's life Now wears his crown
The King rises.
I like him not nor stands it safe with us To let his madness range.... he to England shall along with you.
Now might I do it, pat now he is praying; And now I'll do't
Forty thousand brothers Could not with all their quantity of love Make up my sum
O, my offence is rank: it smells to heaven.....A brother's murder
O, I am slain!
By letters congruing to that effect The present death of Hamlet. Do it, England!
I'll touch my point with this contagion, that if I gall him slightly, It may be death.
I am justly killed with mine own treachery
It is the poisoned cup! It is too late.
[LAERTUS wounds HAMLET, then in scuffling, they change rapiers and HAMLET wounds LAERTUS]
The point! Envenomed too! Then, venom, to thy work.
Treason! Treason!

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