Never to rise again; thy mother's poison'd; I can no more -the King, the King's to blame. Then, venom, do thy work. All. Treafon, treason. [Stabs the King. King. O yet defend me, friends, I am but hurt. Ham. Here, thou incestuous, murth'rous, damned Drink off this potion is the union here? : Follow my mother. Laer. He is juftly served, It is a poifon temper'd by himself. [Dane, [King dies. Exchange forgivenefs with me, noble Hamlet; [Dies. Ham. Heav'n make thee free of it! I follow.thee. I'm dead, Horatio; wretched Queen, adieu ! 1 hou liv'ft, report me and my cause aright Hor. Never believe it. I'm more an antic Roman than a Dane Ham. As th' art a man, Give me the cup; let go; by heav'n I'll have't. 'I hings ftanding thus unknown, fhall live behind me? If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart, Abfent thee from felicity a while, And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain, S CEN. E VI.. Enter Ofrick. Ofr. Young Fortinbras, with conqueft come from To the ambaffadors of England gives This warlike volley. Ham. I die, Horatio : The potent peifon quite o'ergrows my spirit ; [Poland, I cannot live to hear the news from England. So tell him, with the occurrents more or less, [Dies. Hor. Now cracks a noble heart! good night, sweet: Prince; And flights of angels wing thee to thy rest ! Why does the drum come hither ? Enter Fortinbras and English Ambafadors, with drum; colours, and attendants. Fort. Where is this fight? Hor, What is it you would fee? If aught of woe or wonder, cease your fearch. Fert. This quarry cries--on havock. What feaft is tow'rd in thy infernal cell, Amb. The fight is dismal, Oh proud! [Death! And our affairs from England come too late : That Rofincrantz and Guildenstern are dead... Hor. Not from his mouth †, you: He never gave commandment for their death. You from the Polack wars, and you from England,', And let me fpeak to th' yet unknowing world, So fhall you Of cruel, bloody, and unnatural acts; Of accidental judgments, cafual flaughters; Fall'n on th' inventors' heads. All this can I folicited, for brought on the event. i. e. the King's.. hear Fort. Let us hafte to hear it, And call the Nobleffe to the audience. For me, with forrow I embrace my fortune; And from his mouth whofe voice will draw on more: Even while mens' minds are wild, left more mifchancè On plots and errors happen. Fort. Let four captains Bear Hamlet, like a foldier, to the stage; For he was likely, had he been put on, To have prov'd moft royally. And for his paffage, Speak loudly for him Take up the body: fuch a fight as this Becomes the field, but here fhews much amifs. [Exeunt marching: after which a peal of ord- OTHELLO, the Moor of Venice DRAMATIS PERSONE, DUKE of Venice. Brabantio, a Noble Venetian. Othello, the Moor, General for Montano, the Moor's predeceffor Desdemona, daughter to Braban SCENE, for the first at, in Venice; during the rest of the plag, in Cyprus. ACT SCENE I. Rod. T Aftreet in Venice. Enter Rodorigo and Iago. Ufh, never tell me, I take it much unkindly, Iago. But you'll not hear me. If ever I did dream of fuch a matter, abhor me. If I do not. Three great ones of the city, The story is taken from Cynthio's novels... 1 Evades them with a bombaft circumstance, Horribly stuft with epithets of war, And, in conclufion, Non-fuits my mediators. Certes, fays he, For footh a great arithmetician, One Michael Caffio,--(A Florentine's More than a spinster: but the bookish theoric, As masterly as he ;-mere prattle, without practice, And I (God bless the mark!) his Moorship's ancient. Rod. By Heav'n, I rather would have been his hang mail. lago. But there's no remedy, 'tis the curfe of fervice; Preferment goes by letter and affection, Not (as of old) gradation, where each fecond Stood heir to th' firft. Now, Sir, be judge yourself, To love the Moor. Rod. I would not follow him then. I few him to ferve my turn upon him, We cannot all be mafters, nor all masters Cannot be truly follow'd, "You fhall mark "Many a duteous and knee-crooking knave, "That doating on his own obfequious bondage, "Wears out his time, much like his master's afs, "For nought but provender; and when he's old, cafhier'd ; -Others there are, Whip me fuch honeft knaves- confuls, for counflors. |