My pulse, as yours, doth temperately keep time, And makes as healthful music: it is not madness That I have utter’d: bring me to the test, And I the matter will re-word; which madness Would gambol from.
Where be your gibes now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar?
There are no more uses of "gambol" in the play.
Show samples from other sources
Charles and Fortinbras gamboled on ahead.
Madeleine L’Engle -- A Wrinkle in Time
It was somehow slightly frightening, like the gambolling of tiger cubs which will soon grow up into man-eaters.