Gravedigger (sings.) The carpenter, shipwright, and mason may boast most. With my dig, dig, &c. But the sexton builds stronger than all put together, Hamlet. That scull might once have been a politician's; Horatio. Please yourself. Hamlet. (To Gravedigger) Do'st know whose scull 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! This scull was Yorick's once, the late King's jester. Alas, poor Hamlet. Yorick! Sir, I knew him well-O! He was indeed a jolly roaring fellow. Horatio, he would get dead drunk,-and after O' th' wrong side of his mouth he's laughing now. 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, 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 The world's great commander, A two-penny earthenware mug!! Bell tolls. Hamlet. But mum! here comes 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 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, What, my old sweetheart! plain (h). Hamlet. We're bewitch'd, 'tis 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. 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— [Springs out of the grave, and catches 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. [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). |