“Gertrude, do not drink,” said the King, but it was too late; before Claudius could prevent her, she had lifted to her lips the cup of poisoned wine, which the little page had placed on a table beside her.
The third bout of fencing began, and this time it was more vigorous than before, for Hamlet reproached Laertes for not putting forth his full powers. A feeling of shame had doubtless hitherto restrained Laertes, and he felt that what he was going to do was almost against his conscience. Nevertheless, he now thrust in good earnest. He wounded Hamlet, but in the scuffle his rapier flew out of his hand. Hamlet tossed his own weapon to Laertes, and picked up the poisoned one which had fallen to the ground. The struggle was resumed, and this time Hamlet wounded Laertes. The match begun in play was becoming serious.
“Part them; they are incensed!” cried the King.
“Nay, come again,” said Hamlet.
“Look to the Queen there, ho!” called out Osric, for at that moment she fell back, half unconscious.
“They bleed on both sides. How is it, my lord?” asked Horatio of Hamlet.
“How is it, Laertes?” asked Osric.
“Why, as a woodcock to mine own springe, Osric; I am justly punished with mine own treachery.”
“How does the Queen?” asked Hamlet.
“She swoons to see them bleed,” said the King, anxious to cover up the cause of her death.