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Click on the verses to see them in context. Shakespeare's plays are available from the Gutenberg Projet.

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 Sir Walter Herbert, a renowned soldier; That Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead: For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here; Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier's debt: Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interr'd. It may be death. Who knows not he is dead! Who knows he is? When thou shalt tell the process of their death. Why the man dies.--I humbly thank you, sir. And fall thy edgeless sword: despair, and die!--