Lords How ist my Lord Leartes?
Lear. Euen as a coxcombe should,
Foolishly slaine with my owne weapon:
Hamlet, thou hast not in thee halfe an houre of life,
The fatall Instrument is in thy hand. 90
Vnbated and invenomed: thy mother's poysned
That drinke was made for thee.
Ham. The poysned Instrument within my hand?
Then venome to thy venome, die damn'd villaine:
Come drinke, here lies thy vnion here. The king dies. 95
Lear. O he is justly serued:
Hamlet, before I die, here take my hand,
And withall, my loue: I doe forgiue thee. Leartes dies.
Ham. And I thee, O I am dead Horatio, fare thee well.
Hor. No, I am more an antike Roman, 100
Then a Dane, here is some poison left.
Ham. Vpon my loue I charge thee let it goe,
O fie Horatio, and if thou shouldst die,
What a scandale wouldst thou leaue behinde?
What tongue should tell the story of our deaths, 105
If not from thee? O my heart sinckes Horatio,
Mine eyes haue lost their sight, my tongue his vse:
Farewel Horatio, heauen receiue my soule. Ham. dies.
Enter Voltemar and the Ambassadors from England. Enter Fortenbrasse with his traine.
Fort. Where is this bloudy sight?
Hor. If aught of woe or wonder you'ld behold,
Then looke vpon this tragicke spectacle.