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(Sings.)

Now had these children staid at home,

And slid upon dry ground,
They broken necks had had, perchance,

But never had been drown'd.

Enter King.

King.

How is't, Ophelia ?

Ophelia.

Where's the use of sorrow? For, ah! we're gone to-day and here to-morrow!

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SONG.-Ophelia.

(Tune-" How happy could I be with either.)

'Tis the fashion for lads to court lasses,

But I know a case quite contrary:
Peggy Tomkins (c) lov'd Johnny the butler,
And she whistled for John down the area.

Ri tol, ợc.

King. Pretty Ophelia.

Ophelia.

Aye, 'tis true, depend on't;
And so, without an oath, I'll make an end on't.

(Sings.)

Says John " go to the back-kitchen window,

And quickly I'll come and unbar it."
But, to shorten a very long story,
Peggy staid all night long in John's garret.

Ri tol, &c.

King. How long hath she been thus ?

Queen.

I cannot tell.

Opbelia. We must be patient; all may yet be well. Yet I must weep—to lay him in the dirt is A dirty trick—I'll tell it to Laertes. I thank you-so 'tis best—you counsel rightMy coach — three thirty-five () - good night, good night.

[Exit Ophelia.

King. Follow her close : Horatio, you be at her ; See you look sharp. (Exit Hor.) Hollo, there! what's the matter?

[Noise without.

Enter MarceLLUS.

Marcellus.
My lord, my lord, Laertes heads a mob,
And comes to knock about your royal nob :

The rabble swear your majesty shall swing,
And loudly cry, “ Laertes shall be king."

[Exit Marcellus.

[Noise without. Enter Laertes.

Laertes.
You blackguard! (To the King.)

Queen.
Fie! Laertes.

Laertes.

I had rather You'd mind your business. (To King) Give me back my father.

King.
Hold him fast, Gertrude, I'll get out o' th’ way ;
He's twice as big as I am. (Going.)

Laertes.

Stop, I say !
Who kill'd my father?

King.
How should I know?

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Laertes.

Nonsense.

Queen.
He did not kill him.

King.
No, upon my conscience.

I'll prove my innocence beyond all doubt.

Laertes.
None of your blarney, (e)—but I'll soon find out.
I'll twig ye all for't-I'll not stand your humming-

Enter Horatio.

Horatio. Here's Miss Ophelia, Sir.

King.

Pray let her come in.

Enter OPHELIA, fantastically dressed with straws ana

flowers, her clothes splashed with mud and dirt.

Laertes.
My pretty maid — This is too much to bear!
By Gemini she's mad as a March hare!

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Laertes.
To see her thus—0, 'tis a doleful pity!

Ophelia.
What must be, must-but hush !—I'll end my ditty.

(Sings.)

A captain bold in Halifax,

Who liv'd in country quarters,
Seduc'd a maid who hang'd herself,

One morning, in her garters.

Stop — stop— I've brought some fruit :- for you, sweet

Queen,
The finest cabbage that was ever seen;
For you a bunch of carrots; and for you
A turnip-and I'll eat a turnip too.
To bring a rope of onions, (f) too, I tried,
But father ate them all before he died.
Well, there's an end of him !-he's gone !-aye, true--
Come, one song more, and then-then I'll go too.

SONG.–Ophelia.

And will he not come again?
And will he not come again?

He is knock'd o' the head,

And than mutton more dead,
And never will come again.

His beard was as white as my shift,
As white as my shift was his pole:

He is gone-let's be jolly,

For grieving's a folly,
And never will save his soul.

[Exeunt Ophelia and Queen.

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