Rol. No?
Ham. No, it is so monstrous, no repentance cures it.
Rol. Why then thou shalt kill her first, and what this blood
Will cast upon thy cursed head.
Ham. Poor Guard Sir.
Edi. Spare not brave Captain.
Rol. Fear, or the Devil has thee.
Ham. Such fear Sir as you gave your honor'd Mother,
When your most vertuous Brother, shield-like, held her;
Such I'le give you, put her away.
Rol. I will not, I will not die so tamely.
Ham. Murtherous villain, wilt thou draw seas of blood upon thee?
Edi. Fear not, kill him good Captain, any way dispatch
Him, my body's honor'd with that sword that through me,
Sends his black soul to Hell: Oh, but for one hand.