O

what

 

Ham.
O I dye Horatio: 
The potent poyson quite ore-crowes my spirit, 
I cannot liue to heare the Newes from England

But I do prophesie th’ election lights 
On Fortinbras, he ha’s my dying voyce, 
So tell him with the occurrents more and lesse, 
Which haue solicited. The rest is silence. O, o, o, o. [ Dyes]