Act V

I’ll be your foil, Laertes: in mine ignorance

Your skill shall, like a star i’ the darkest night,

Stick fiery off indeed.

You mock me, sir.

No, by this hand.

Give them the foils, young Osric. 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.

This is too heavy, let me see another.