[Footnote 14: His conscience starts up, awake and strong, at the approach of Death. As the show of the world withdraws, the realities assert themselves. He repents, and makes confession of his sin, seeing it now in its true nature, and calling it by its own name. It is a compensation of the weakness of some that they cannot be strong in wickedness. The king did not so repent, and with his strength was the more to blame.]
[Footnote 15: swounds, swoons.]
[Footnote 16: She is true to her son. The maternal outlasts the adulterous.]
[Page 270]
Oh my deere Hamlet, the drinke, the drinke,
I am poyson'd.
Ham. Oh Villany! How? Let the doore be lock'd. Treacherie, seeke it out.[1]
Laer. It is heere Hamlet.[2]
Hamlet,[3] thou art slaine,
No Medicine in the world can do thee good.
In thee, there is not halfe an houre of life; [Sidenote: houres life,]
The Treacherous Instrument is in thy hand, [Sidenote: in my]
Vnbated and envenom'd: the foule practise[4]
Hath turn'd it selfe on me. Loe, heere I lye,
Neuer to rise againe: Thy Mothers poyson'd:
I can no more, the King, the King's too blame.[5]
Ham. The point envenom'd too, Then venome to thy worke.[6] Hurts the King.[7]
All. Treason, Treason.
King. O yet defend me Friends, I am but hurt.