Hamlet: O! I die, Horatio ;
The potent poison quite o’er-crows my spirit :
I cannot live to hear the news from England ;
But I do prophesy the election lights
On Fortinbras : he has my dying voice ;
So tell him, with the occurrents, more and less,
Which have solicited. – The rest is silence.
Horatio: How cracks a noble heart.
– Good night, sweet prince ;
And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest !
Want a challenge? Why not solve the regex crossword made for this scene?