Hamlet. Poz. -Adieu ! [Exeunt Hor. Mar. and Ber. No doubt some dirty work, if this be true. SCENE II. The Platform. Enter Hamlet, Horatio, and Marcellus. The air bites shrewdly-it is very cold. Horatio. [Exit. (Aside) Why any fool, methinks, might that have told. What is't o'clock? Hamlet. Horatio. Half past eleven at most. Marcellus. My watch says twelve (e). Horatio. But see! here comes the ghost. Enter Ghost. Hamlet. Zounds! here's a pretty rig! (ƒ) O Lord, defend us! Prythee no more such frightful spectres send us! dad. Be thou a jovial sprite or goblin damn'd; Horatio. He'd have a tête-à-tête with you-alone. Hamlet, Would he?-Here goes then-now, my cock, lead on! You shall not go. Marcellus. Horatio. Perhaps he means to kill you. Hamlet. You'd better hold your jaw (g),—be quiet, will you? My fate cries out And gives me pluck-so mind what you're about. Hop off, I say! (To Ghost) Lead on, I'll quickly follow. (To Hor. and Mar.) Wait here, and if I want ye, lads, I'll hollo. [Exeunt Ghost and Ham. SCENE III. Hor. und Mar. A remote part of the Platform. Enter Ghost and Hamlet. Hamlet. Hollo, you Sir! Where is't you mean to go? Ghost. You had better. Hamlet. No! Ghost. Then hold your gab (h), and hear what I've to tell; I'm press'd for time-we keep good hours in h―ll. Soon must I go and have another roast; So pray attend to me. Hamlet. Alas, poor Ghost! SONG.-GHOST. (Tune-Giles Scroggins' Ghost.) Behold in me your father's sprite, Ri tol tiddy lol de ray, Doom'd for a term to walk the night. You'll scarce believe me when I say, But that I am forbid to blow, The dreadful secrets which I know. I could such a dismal tale unfold, As would make your precious blood run cold! Your father suddenly you miss'd, I'll tell you how:-List! List! O list! 'Twas given out to all the town, That a serpent pull'd your father down— Your uncle is the man I mean, Ri tol tiddy, &c. That diddled (i) me out of my crown and my queen. Tiddy, tiddy, &c. O what a falling off was there! But brief let me be, I must back repair, One afternoon as was my use, I went to my orchard to take a snooze; When your uncle into my ear did pour A bottle of cursed hellebore. How little did I think I should wake no more! Doom'd by a brother's hand was I, To lose my crown, my wife,—to die. I should like to have settled my worldly affairs, That I hadn't even time to say my pray❜rs. Torment your uncle for my sake; Ri tol tiddy, &c. Let him never be at peace, asleep or awake. Your mother's plague let her conscience be Ri tol tiddy, &c. Hamlet. [The Ghost vanishes. Remember thee?-I feel in such a flurry, |