Gravedigger (sings). The carpenter, shipwright, and mason, may boast Of the strength of their buildings-they're nut-shells at most: But the sexton builds stronger than all put together, Hamlet. That skull might once have been a politician's; Horatio. Please yourself. Hamlet. (To Gravedigger) Do'st know whose skull was this amongst the many ? Gravedigger. What! can't you tell? Hamlet. Why, how the devil can I? Gravedigger. Of all good fellows sure he was the best, Sir! Hamlet. Alas, poor Yorick !-Sir, I knew him well-O! SONG.-HAMLET. (Tune-" Dorothy Dumps.")· When depriv'd of our breath, First his magic displaces Eyes and nose from our faces, And like this leaves them ghastly and hollow. "Tis to him the same thing, Whether beggar or king, 'Midst his frolics all share the same fate; And certain it is, To a thing just like this, He transform'd Alexander the Great. 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 'Till we find it i' th' form of a jug; 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. [Bell tolls. Enter FRIAR, KING, QUEEN, LAERTES, Marcellus, BERNARDO, GENTLEMEN, and LAPIES, 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, my poor sister's train. Hamlet. What, my old sweetheart! We're bewitch'd, 'tis plain (h). Queen. (Scattering flowers) Instead of this, as I'm a living sinner, I thought t'have had soon a good wedding-dinner. [The Gravedigger about to throw the earth into the grave. DUETT.-LAERTES AND HAMLET. (Tune-" Nancy Dawson.") Laertes. Sexton, throw aside your spade, Don't be in so much haste, my blade; Once more I'll buss the bonny maid, [Leaps into the grave. Now cover up the quick and dead, And pile your dust upon my head, 'Till of this flat a mount you've made As high as Greenwich-hill, Sir. 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; I'll thump you to your heart's delight,— I'll fight for her (so hold your mag) Come tell me what you'll do, Sir? I'll rant as well as you, Sir. [Exeunt Hamlet and Horatio. Queen. Alas, he's crack'd! Awhile he'll growl like Towzer (i) : Anon, he's patient as a hungry mouser (k). |