Come, for the third, Laertes.

Is his adrenaline firing up this moment? Is Hamlet, having refused the wine and there having been a little pause in the proceedings, worried that he will lose the momentum he’s gained?

Is he simply tired of standing around jawin’? He’s not someone who seems to like standing around in silence. I picture him all limbered up, bouncing around, ready to get into it, man, before this energy fades away.

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