HAMLET TRAVESTIE. ACT THE FIRST. SCENE I. A Room of State in the Palace. KING, QUEEN, HAMLET, POLONIUS, LAERTES, GENTLEMEN, and LADIES, discovered. Flourish of Trumpets and Drums. King. THO' by our dismal phizzes plain 'tis seen Laertes. My Lord, that's true: B Your suit is granted. King. Laertes. Sire, I'm much your debtor. King. Then brush! the sooner you are off the better. [Exit Laertes. (To Hamlet) Cheer up, my son and cousin, never mind— Hamlet. A little more than kin, and less than kind. King. Why hang the clouds still on you? Come, have done. Hamlet. You're out, my Lord: I'm too much in the sun.~ Queen. Come, Hamlet, leave off crying; 'tis in vain, Aye, Madam, it is common. Queen. If it be, Why seems there such a mighty fuss with thee? Hamlet. Talk not to me of seems-when husbands die, King. Cheer up, my hearty: tho' you've lost your dad, Your father lost a father; and 'tis certain Death o'er your great-grandfather drew the curtain. You've mourn'd enough: 'tis time your grief to smother; Don't cry; you shall be king some time or other. Queen. Go not to Wittenburg, my love, I pray you. Hamlet. Mamma, I shall in all my best obey you. King. Well said, my lad! Cheer up! (b) no more foul weather:We'll meet anon, and all get drunk together. [Flourish of trumpets and drums— Exeunt all but Hamlet. SONG.-HAMLET, (Tune-" Derry Down.") A ducat I'd give if a sure way I knew How to thaw and resolve my stout flesh into dew! Derry down, down, down, derry down. How weary, how profitless, stale, and how flat, Not worth living for-things rank and gross hold it merely. Derry down, &c. Two months have scarce pass'd since dad's death, and my mother, Like a brute as she is, has just married his brother. To wed such a bore! but 'tis all too late now: We can't make a silk purse of the ear of a sow. Derry down, &c. So fondly he lov'd her, I've oft heard him tell her, "If it rains, my dear Gertrude, pray take my umbrella:" When too roughly the winds have beset her, he'th said, My dear, take my belcher (c) to tie round your head.” Derry down, &c. Why zounds! she'd hang on him, as much as to say, Yet before one could whistle, as I am a true man, Derry down, &c. To marry my uncle! my father's own brother!- But break, my poor heart :-I'd say more if I could. Derry down, &c. Enter HORATIO, MARCELLUS, and BERNARDO. Hamlet. My lads, I'm glad to see you. I implore You'll tell me what brought you to Elsinore. [To Horatio. |