Hamlet By William Shakespeare Summary and Analysis Act V: Scene 2

HAMLET.
Very well, my lord;
Your grace has laid the odds o' the weaker side.

KING.
I do not fear it; I have seen you both;
But since he's better'd, we have therefore odds.

LAERTES.
This is too heavy, let me see another.

HAMLET.
This likes me well. These foils have all a length?

[They prepare to play.]

OSRIC.
Ay, my good lord.

KING.
Set me the stoups of wine upon that table, —
If Hamlet give the first or second hit,
Or quit in answer of the third exchange,
Let all the battlements their ordnance fire;
The king shall drink to Hamlet's better breath;
And in the cup an union shall he throw,
Richer than that which four successive kings
In Denmark's crown have worn. Give me the cups;
And let the kettle to the trumpet speak,
The trumpet to the cannoneer without,
The cannons to the heavens, the heavens to earth,
'Now the king drinks to Hamlet.' — Come, begin: —
And you, the judges, bear a wary eye.

HAMLET.
Come on, sir.

LAERTES.
Come, my lord.

[They play.]

HAMLET.
One.

LAERTES.
No.

HAMLET.
Judgment!

OSRIC.
A hit, a very palpable hit.

LAERTES.
Well; — again.

KING.
Stay, give me drink. — Hamlet, this pearl is thine;
Here's to thy health. —

[Trumpets sound, and cannon shot off within.]

Give him the cup.

HAMLET.
I'll play this bout first; set it by awhile. —
Come. — Another hit; what say you?

[They play.]

LAERTES.
A touch, a touch, I do confess.

KING.
Our son shall win.

QUEEN.
He's fat, and scant of breath. —
Here, Hamlet, take my napkin, rub thy brows:
The queen carouses to thy fortune, Hamlet.

HAMLET.
Good madam!

KING.
Gertrude, do not drink.

QUEEN.
I will, my lord; I pray you pardon me.

KING.
[Aside.] It is the poison'd cup; it is too late.

HAMLET.
I dare not drink yet, madam; by-and-by.

QUEEN.
Come, let me wipe thy face.

LAERTES.
My lord, I'll hit him now.

KING.
I do not think't.

LAERTES.
[Aside.] And yet 'tis almost 'gainst my conscience.

HAMLET.
Come, for the third, Laertes: you but dally;
I pray you pass with your best violence:
I am afeard you make a wanton of me.

LAERTES.
Say you so? come on.

[They play.]

OSRIC.
Nothing, neither way.

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