Horatio
They bleed on both sides. How is it, my lord?
Osric
How is’t, Laertes?
Laertes
Why, as a woodcock to mine own springe, Osric;
I am justly kill’d with mine own treachery.
Hamlet
How does the queen?
King
She swounds to see them bleed.
Queen
No, no, the drink, the drink—O my dear Hamlet—
The drink, the drink! I am poison’d.
Dies.
Hamlet
O villany! Ho! let the door be lock’d:
Treachery! Seek it out.
Laertes
It is here, 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 instrument is in thy hand,
Unbated and envenom’d: the foul practice
Hath turn’d itself on me; lo, here I lie,
Never to rise again: thy mother’s poison’d:
I can no more: the king, the king’s to blame.