“Another hit! What say you?” Hamlet appealed to the judges. “A touch, a touch, I do confess,” agreed Laertes. “Our son shall win,” said the deceitful King. “The Queen carouses to thy fortune, Hamlet,” said his mother. “Gertrude, do not drink,” said the King, but it was too late; before Claudius could prevent her, she had lifted to her lips the cup of poisoned wine, which the little page had placed on a table beside her. The third bout of fencing began, and this time it was more vigorous than before, for Hamlet reproached Laertes for not putting forth his full powers. A feeling of shame had doubtless hitherto restrained Laertes, and he felt that what he was going to do was almost against his conscience. Nevertheless, he now thrust in good earnest. He wounded Hamlet, but in the scuffle his rapier flew out of his hand. Hamlet tossed his own weapon to Laertes, and picked up the poisoned one which had fallen to the ground. The struggle was resumed, and this time Hamlet wounded Laertes. The match begun in play was becoming serious. “Part them; they are incensed!” cried the King. “Nay, come again,” said Hamlet. “Look to the Queen there, ho!” called out Osric, for at that moment she fell back, half unconscious. “They bleed on both sides. How is it, my lord?” asked Horatio of Hamlet. “How is it, Laertes?” asked Osric. “Why, as a woodcock to mine own springe, Osric; I am justly punished with mine own treachery.” “How does the Queen?” asked Hamlet. “She swoons to see them bleed,” said the King, anxious to cover up the cause of her death. “No, no, the drink, the drink!” gasped the Queen, “O my dear Hamlet--the drink, the drink! I am poisoned!” “O, villainy! Ho! let the door be locked! Treachery! Seek it out,” cried Hamlet. Laertes, on the point of death, confessed the whole plot, and Hamlet, stung at last to vengeance, stabbed the wicked King with Laertes’s poisoned weapon, which he held in his hand. “He is justly served,” said Laertes. “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!” said Hamlet, as the young man fell back motionless. “I follow thee. I am dead, Horatio. Wretched Queen, adieu!” Horatio, feeling that he no longer cared to live, seized the cup, and would have drunk off what was left of the poisoned wine, but with a last effort of failing strength, Hamlet wrenched the cup out of his hands, and dashed it to the ground. Far off in the distance was heard the music of a triumphant march, and learning that it was the youthful Fortinbras, returning with conquest from Poland, Hamlet prophesied that he would be elected as the new King, and gave his dying voice for him as his successor. Then murmuring, “The rest is silence,” the young Prince sank quietly back, with a smile of unearthly radiance on his face, and at last the storm-tossed spirit was at peace.