HAMLET (CONT'D)
Another hit. What say you?
LAERTES
A touch. I confess, a touch.
CLAUDIUS
(to Gertrude)
Our son shall win.
He's not at his most fit, he's short of breath. (To Hamlet.)
Here Hamlet, take my scarf and wipe your brow. The Queen
drinks to your fortune, Hamlet.
HAMLET
Thank you madam.
CLAUDIUS
Gertrude, do not drink.
GERTRUDE
I will, my lord. Pardon me if you will.
(She drinks and offers cup to Hamlet.)
HAMLET
Not yet madam.
GERTRUDE
Come, let me wipe you face.
HAMLET
Come for the third bout, Laertes. I pray you pass with your
best violence. I fear you're toying with me.
LAERTES
Really? Come on.
(They fence.)
OSRIC
Nothing either way.
(They fence.)
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