SUBTITLES!
Give me your pardon, sir: I've done you wrong;
But pardon't, as you are a gentleman.
This presence knows, and you needs must have heard,
how I am punish'd with sore distraction.
What I have done, that might your nature,
honor and exception roughly awake,
I here proclaim was madness
Sir, in this audience,
let my disclaiming from a purposed evil
free me so far in your most generous thoughts
That I have shot mine arrow o'er the house,
and hurt my brother.
I am satisfied in nature,
Whose motive, in this case, should stir me most
to my revenge.
but, in my terms of honor
I stand aloof; and will no reconcilement,
Till by some elder masters, of known honour,
I have a voice and precedent of peace, to keep my name ungored.
But till then, I do keep your offered love like love
and will not wrong it
I embrace it freely
and will this brother's wager frankly play.
Let us get our foils. Come on.
Come, one for me.
I'll be your foil, Laertes.
In mine ignorance, your skill shall
like a star in the darkest night
stick fiery off indeed.
You mock me, sir
No, by this hand.
Cousin Hamlet, you know the wager?
Very well, my lord
Your grace hath laid the odds o' the weaker side.
I do not fear it; I have seen you both.
But since he is better'd
we have therefore odds.
Set me the stoops of wine upon that table.
If Hamlet give the first, or second hit,
or quit in answer to the third exchange
Let all the battlements their ordnance fire:
The king shall drink to Hamlet's better breath,
and in the cup a union shall he throw,
richer than that of which four successive kings
in Denmark's crown have worn.
Give me the cups;
Let the kettle to the trumpet speak,
the trumpet to the cannoneer without,
The cannons to the heavens, the heavens to the earth
Now the king drinks to Hamlet.
Come begin, and you the judges
bear a wary eye
Come on, sir
Come, my lord.
One! No! Judgement!
Well, again.
Stay, give me drink.
Hamlet, this pearl is thine.
Here's to thy health.
Give him the cup.
I'll play this bout first, set it by awhile.
Come, Laertes.
Another hit! What say you?
A touch, a touch, I do confess.
"Our son shall win." - King Claudius
He's fat and scant of breath.
Here Hamlet, take they napkin,
rub they brows,
the queen carouses to thy fortune.
Gertrude, do not drink.
I will my lord.
I pray you, pardon me.
It is the poisoned cup. It is too late
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.
Say you so; come on!
Have at you now!
Part them, they are incensed!
Nay, come again!
Why, as a woodcock to mine own springe,
I am justly kill'd with mine own treachery.
How does the queen
She swounds to see them bleed
No, no! The drink, the drink!
My dear Hamlet!
the drink, the drink!
I am poisoned!
Oh villainy, ho!
let the door be lock'd
Treachery, seek it out!
Hamlet, Hamlet thou art slain.
No medicine in the world can do thee good;
In thee there is not half an hour of life;
The treacherous weapon is in thy hand,
Unbated and envenom'd: the foul practise
Hath turn'd itself on me lo, here I lie,
never to rise again
thy mother is poisoned, I can no more.
The king, the king's to blame!
The point! Envenom'd too!
then venom, to they work!
O yet defend me friends, I am but hurt
Here, thou incestuous, murderous, damned Dane,
Drink this potion!
Is thy union here? Follow my mother!
He is justly served.
It is a poison, temper'd by himself.
Exchange forgiveness with me, noble Hamlet:
Mine and my father's death come not upon thee,
Nor thine on me.
Heaven make thee free of it! I follow thee.
I am dead, Horatio. Wretched queen, adieu!
You that look pale and tremble at this chance,
That are but mutes or audience to this act,
Had I but time--as this fell sergeant, death,
is strict in his arrest
O, I could tell you
But let it be.
Horatio, I am dead.
Thou livest.
Report my and my cause aright to the unsatisfied.
Never believe it:
I am more an antique Roman than a Dane:
Here's yet some liquor left
As thou'rt a man, give me the cup!
Let go, by heavens, I'll have't
Good Horatio, what a wounded name!
Things standing thus unknown,
shall live behind me!
Set thee free from felicity awhile,
and in this harsh world,
draw thy breath in pain,
to tell my story
What warlike noise is this?
Young Fortinbras, with conquest come from Poland.
O I die,
Horatio
I cannot live to hear the news from England.
But I prophecy the election lights
fall on Fortinbras.
He has my dying word.
So tell him, with the occurrents,
more or less, which have solicited.
the rest is silence.
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