Heaven make thee free of it. I follow thee.—I am dead, Horatio.—Wretched queen, adieu!—You that look pale and tremble at this chance, That are but mutes or audience to this act, Had I but time, O, I could tell you—But let it be.—Horatio, I am dead. Thou livest. Report me and my cause arightTo the unsatisfied.
For me, with sorrow I embrace my fortune. I have some rights of memory in this kingdom, Which now to claim my vantage doth invite me. Bear Hamlet like a soldier to the stage, For he was likely, had he been put on, To have proved most royally.
Never believe it.I am more an antique Roman than a Dane. Here‟s yet some liquor left.
As thou'rt a man,Give me the cup. Let go! By heaven, I‟ll have't. O God, 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'ercrows my spirit. I cannot live to hear the news from England. But I do prophesy the election lights. On Fortinbras. He has my dying voice.
Now cracks a noble heart.—Good night,sweet prince, And flights of angels sing thee to thyrest!—
Where is this sight?This quarry cries on havoc. O proud death,What feast is toward in thine eternal cell, That thou so many princes at a shotSo bloodily hast struck?
The sight is dismal,And our affairs from England come too late. The ears are senseless that should give ushearing, To tell him his commandment is fulfilled, That Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead.Where should we have our thanks?
Not from his mouth, Had it th' ability of life to thank you. He never gave commandment for their death. But since so jump upon thi bloody question, You from the Polack wars, and you from England, Are here arrived, give order that these bodies High on a stage be placèd to the view, And let me speak to th' yet-unknowing world. How these things came about. So shall you hear Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts, Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters, Of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause, And, in this upshot, purposes mistook Fall'n on th' inventors' heads. All this can I Truly deliver.