“How now! A rat? Dead, for a ducat, dead!”
There was a cry from behind, “O, I am slain!” and the fall of a heavy body.
“O me, what hast thou done?” exclaimed the Queen.
“Nay, I know not. Is it—the King?” said Hamlet, in a harsh whisper.
“Oh, what a rash and bloody deed is this!” moaned the Queen, wringing her hands in dismay.
“A bloody deed! Almost as bad, good mother, as kill a King and marry with his brother,” said Hamlet solemnly.
“As kill a King?” echoed the Queen, astounded.
“Ay, lady, it was my word.”