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.)

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 and 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!

To see her thus-O, '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.

King.

Laertes, I lament your situation:

But come; we'll have a private conversation,
And I'll acquaint you who 'twas kill'd your father.-
Or, if you like not this plan, and had rather
Submit our diff'rence to an arbiration,
You may depend on ample reparation.

Laertes.

His shabby fun'ral too-O sad reproach!
Not e'en attended by a morning-coach;

No mutes, no pall-bearers, and (what's still worse)
Two wretched knock'd-up hacks to draw his hearse.
I'll have revenge.

King.

You shall.-Tip us your daddle:

But on the right horse see you place the saddle.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Another Room in the Palace.

Enter KING and LAERTES.

King.

And now, my cock of wax, I've prov'd that I
Have never had a finger in the pie.

Thinking to murder me, did Hamlet kill him.

Laertes.

O, let me catch him, and I'll sweetly mill him (g).

King.

That may you speedily.-E'en now I've learn'd,
Hamlet hath unexpectedly return'd.

Now, I've a scheme will suit us to a T;
Twill keep suspicion too from you and me:
To his long home he quickly shall be sent,
And so, as it shall seem, by accident.

Laertes.

I will be rul'd by you; but plan it so,
That I may tip the rascal his death-blow.

King.

"Tis rumour'd you're a famous pugilist;Now, Hamlet oft hath long'd to try your fist :I'll have you box together for a wager!

Laertes.

Sir:

To give him a sound drubbing I'll engage,
Depend upon't, who's who I'll let him know..

King.

Contrive to give him an unlucky blow.

But, to make sure of him, (should this plan fail,) I'll put some ars'nic in a mug of ale;

And when he's hot and thirsty with the fight, I'll give it him to drink-What think you?

Laertes.

Right!

Enter QUEEN.

Queen.

Misfortunes ne'er come singly, oft I've found;
Now here's a pretty rig-Ophelia's drown'd.