This is too heavy, let me see another.
This likes me well. These foils have all a length?
They prepare to play
Ay, my good lord.
Set me the stoops of wine upon that table.
If Hamlet give the first or second hit,
Or quit in answer of the third exchange,
Let all the battlements their ordnance fire:
The king shall drink to Hamlet’s better breath;
And in the cup an union shall he throw,
Richer than that which four successive kings
In Denmark’s crown have worn. Give me the cups;
And let the kettle to the trumpet speak,
The trumpet to the cannoneer without,
The cannons to the heavens, the heavens to earth,
‘Now the king dunks to Hamlet.’ Come, begin:
And you, the judges, bear a wary eye.
Come on, sir.
Come, my lord.
A hit, a very palpable hit.
Stay; give me drink. Hamlet, this pearl is thine;
Here’s to thy health.
Trumpets sound, and cannon shot off within
Give him the cup.
I’ll play this bout first; set it by awhile. Come.
Another hit; what say you?
A touch, a touch, I do confess.
Our son shall win.