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(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.

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King.

Laertes, I lament your situation:

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

Laertes.

His shabby fun'ral too-O sad reproach!
Not e'en attended by a mourning 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.

SCENE III.

[Exeunt.

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.

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'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!

Luertes.

To give him a sound drubbing I'll engage, Sir:
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?

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

SONG.-QUEEN.

(Tune-"Our Polly is a sad slut.”)

Ophelia is a sad slut!

In spite of all I'd taught her,
She went to fish for tittlebats,
And fell into the water.

An envious bramble near the ditch
Fast by the ankle caught her,
And sous'd her over head and heels,

Slap-dash into the water.

Laertes.

Oh! I've a speech of fire; but like a spout,
My tears do play upon't, and put it out!

King.

I've had enough to do to keep him quiet,
And now will he kick up another riot.

[Exit.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

A Church Yard.

Gravedigger discovered digging a Grave.

SONG.-GRAVEDIGGER.

(Tune—“ Black Joke.”)

O, long life to the sons of the pick-axe and spade,
For they hold up an ancient respectable trade;

With my dig, dig, pick-axe and spade
In the hist'ry of all early states 'twill be found,
That each half-naked nobleman dug his own ground:-
For antiquity, all trades to delving must give in,
Since by digging e'en Adam himself earn'd his living.
With my dig, dig, pick-axe and spade.

Whilst the Gravedigger is singing this Verse,
Hamlet and Horatio enter at a distance.

Hamlet.

This fellow digs and sings-unfeeling knave!
He's making merry of a trade that's grave.

Use, Sir, is second nature.

Horatio.

Hamlet.

On reflection,

I think I'd do the same were I a sexton.

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