Gravedigger. Of all good fellows sure he was the best, Sir! Hamlet. Alas, poor Yorick !-Sir, I knew him well-O ! He was indeed a jolly roaring fellow. Horatio, he would get dead drunk,—and after The first and last was he in ev'ry row: O' th' wrong side of his mouth he's laughing now. With paints and washes to bedaub her face, Tell her, (to make her giggle at her toilette,) That, paint her face inch thick, yet death will spoil it. Next, without much delay, We're converted to clay; But our next transformation's a lott'ry: Some are chang'd into cans, Some to pint-pots or pans Some to tea-pots from Wedgewood's fam'd pott'ry! By this rule may we trace Julius Cæsar's bold face, "Till we find it i' th' form of a jug; And renown'd Alexander, The world's great commander, A two-penny earthenware mug!! Bell tolls. Hamlet. But mum! here come King, Queen, and all the court: Let's stand aside awhile and see the sport. Enter FRIAR, KING, QUEEN, LAERTES, [Bell tolls. MARCELLUS, BERNARDO, GENTLEMEN, and LADIES, following the corpse of OPHELIA. Laertes. Must there no more be done? Friar. Steady, lad, steady; Don't talk of more-we've done too much already. Laertes. In with her then: (The coffin is put into the grave) and if, as gossips tell, Old maids are destin'd to lead apes in hell, May'st thou be one in my poor sister's train. Hamlet. What, my old sweetheart! We're bewitch'd, 'tis plain (b). (Scattering flowers) sinner, Queen. Instead of this, as I'm a living I thought t'have had soon a good wedding-dinner. [The Gravedigger about to throw the earth into the grave. Hamlet (advancing). Who's ranting in so fine a strain ? Laertes. Pray, who are you? Hamlet. Hamlet, the Dane. Laertes. I'm glad I've caught you here again— Now dam'me but I'll choak thee. [Springs out of the grave, and catches Hamlet by the throat. Hamlet. Let go my throat-don't squeeze so tight; For, tho' I'm not the first to fight, So you'd better not provoke me. I'll fight for her (so hold your mag) Come tell me what you'll do, Sir? [Exeunt Hamlet and Horatio. Queen. Alas, he's crack'd! Awhile he'll growl like Towzer (i): King. Good Gertrude, see your crazy son you make fast. And now, Laertes, we'll go home to breakfast. [Exit Queen. [Exeunt King, Laertes, &c. &c. SCENE V. A Hall in the Palace. Enter HAMLET and HORATIO. Hamlet. Horatio, I am sorry for this squabble; I fear 'twill get me in a precious hobble. Enter OSRICK. Osrick. (To Hamlet) His Majesty hath made a match for you, Sir, Το spar with young Laertes a prime bruiser ; And betted him ten shillings to a crown That you, my lord, will give the first knock down. Laertes is quite ready to set to; They're all assembled, and but wait for you. Hamlet. Lead on I'll fight him, Sir: I ne'er felt bolder. |