(Sings.)

Says John "go to the back-kitchen window,
And quickly I'll come and unbar it.”
But, to shorten a very long story,

Peggy staid all night long in John's garret.

We must be patient; all may yet be well.

Yet I must weep-to lay him in the dirt is
A dirty trick-I'll tell it to Laertes.

I thank you so 'tis best-you counsel right-
My coach-three thirty-five (d)-good night, good

night.

King.

[Exit Ophelia.

Follow her close: Horatio, you be at her;

See you look sharp. (Exit Hor.) Hollo, there! what's

the matter?

[Noise without.

Enter MARCELLUS.

Marcellus.

My lord, my lord, Laertes heads a mob,

And comes to knock about your royal nob:

The rabble swear your majesty shall swing, "Laertes shall be king."

And loudly cry,

Enter LAERTes.

Laertes.

You blackguard! (To the King.)

Queen.

Fie! Laertes.

Laertes.

[Exit Marcellus.

[Noise without.

I had rather

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.

Here's Miss Ophelia, Sir.

Horatio.

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!

Ophelia. (Sings.)

Giles Scroggins courted Molly Brown,

Ri tol, &c.

The fairest wench in all the town.

Tiddy, tiddy, &c.

Luertes.

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

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, (ƒ) too, I tried,
But father ate them all before he died.

you, sweet

Well, there's an end of him!-he's gone!-aye, trueCome, 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.

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).