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Now had these children staid at home,
And slid upon dry ground,
But never had been drown'd.
How is't, Ophelia ?
Where's the use of sorrow? For, ah! we're gone to-day and here to-morrow!
(Tune-"How happy could I be with either.)
'Tis the fashion for lads to court lasses,
But I know a case quite contrary :
Ri tol, wc.
King. Pretty Ophelia.
Aye, 'tis true, depend on't;
Says John " go to the back-kitchen window,
And quickly I'll come and unbar it."
Ri tol, &c.
King. How long hath she been thus ?
I cannot tell.
Ophelia. 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 (d) - good night, good night.
King. Follow her close: Horatio, you be at her ; See you look sharp. (Exit Hor.) Hollo, there! what's the matter?
The rabble swear your majesty shall swing,
[Noise witbout. Enter LAERTES.
I had rather
Stop, I say !
Enter OPHELIA, fantastically dressed with straws ana
flowers, ber clothes splashed with mud and dirt.
Giles Scroggins courted Molly Brown,
Ri tol, ớc.
Tiddy, tiddy, &c.
A captain bold in Halifax,
Who liv'd in country quarters,
One morning, in her garters.
Stop - stop-I've brought some fruit:- for you, sweet
And will he not come again?
He is knock'd o' the head,
And than mutton more dead,
His beard was as white as my shift,
He is gone-let's be jolly,
For grieving's a folly,
[Exeunt Ophelia and Queen.