Hamlet from England! Is it possible?

15.230591847What chance is this? They are gone, and he come home!

Oh, he is welcome, by my soul he is!

15.430651849At it my jocund heart doth leap for joy,

15.530661850That I shall live to tell him: thus he dies.

Laertes, content yourself. Be ruled by me,

15.73068.11852And you shall have no let for your revenge.

My will, not all the world.

Nay, but Laertes, mark the plot I have laid:

15.1031001855I have heard him often, with a greedy wish,

15.1130991856Upon some praise that he hath heard of you

15.1231011857Touching your weapon, wish with all his heart

15.1331021858He might be once tasked for to try your cunning.

And how for this?

Marry, Laertes, thus: I'll lay a wager,

15.163124.11861Shall be on Hamlet's side, and you shall give the odds,

15.173124.21862The which will draw him with a more desire

15.183124.31863To try the maistry, that in twelve venies

15.193124.41864You gain not three of him. Now, this being granted,

15.203124.51865When you are hot in midst of all your play,

15.2131281866Among the foils shall a keen rapier lie,

15.2231331867Steeped in a mixture of deadly poison

15.2331341868That, if it draws but the least dram of blood

15.2431381869In any part of him, he cannot live.

15.253138.11870This being done will free you from suspicion,

15.263138.21871And not the dearest friend that Hamlet loved

15.273138.31872Will ever have Laertes in suspect.

My lord, I like it well.

15.293130.11874But say Lord Hamlet should refuse this match?

I'll warrant you, we'll put on you

15.311876Such a report of singularity

15.3231231877Will bring him on, although against his will.

15.333123.11878And, lest that all should miss,

15.3431501879I'll have a potion that shall ready stand,

15.3531481880In all his heat when that he calls for drink,

15.363148.11881Shall be his period and our happiness.

'Tis excellent. Oh, would the time were come!

15.3831531883Here comes the Queen.

How now, Gertred, why look you heavily?

O my lord, the young Ofelia,

15.4131601886Having made a garland of sundry sorts of flowers,

15.4231581887Sitting upon a willow by a brook,

15.4331651888The envious sprig broke. Into the brook she fell,

15.4431671889And for a while her clothes, spread wide abroad,

15.4531681890Bore the young lady up; and there she sat smiling,

15.461891Even mermaid-like, 'twixt heaven and earth,

15.4731691892Chanting old sundry tunes, uncapable,

15.4831701893As it were, of her distress. But long it could not be

15.4931731894Till that her clothes, being heavy with their drink,

15.5031741895Dragged the sweet wretch to death.

So, she is drowned.

15.5231781897Too much of water hast thou, Ofelia;

15.5331791898Therefore I will not drown thee in my tears.

15.543179.11899Revenge it is must yield this heart relief,

15.553179.21900For woe begets woe, and grief hangs on grief.