 | Hamlet Travestie |  |
45
ACT THE THIRD.
SCENE I.
An Apartment in the Palace.Enter King and Queen.
King.
Explain these sighs; 'tis fit we share the fun:
How's Hamlet?
Queen.
Mad as butter in the sun :
Hearing a noise, “a rat, a rat,” he roar'd,
And in his crazy fit whip'd out his sword,
And ran Polonius thro' behind the curtain.
King.
Had we been there, he'd have spik'd us for certain.
Soon as 'tis day-light he shall buy a brush;
And this unlucky job we'll try to hush.
Ho! Guild'stern! (Enter Guild. and Rosen.)
Just now hath Hamlet slain,
By way of joke, our poor lord chamberlain.—
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And bring lord Hamlet here.—Come, jump about.
[Exeunt Guild. and Rosen.
We'll now prepare to pack him off to London:—
As for Polonius—what's done can't be undone.
[Exit Queen.
If Hamlet thus go loose he'll make a racket;
And yet we dare not give him a straight-jacket:
Because tag-rag and bob-tail love him dearly—
And right from wrong, they can't distinguish clearly.
Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern with Hamlet.
King.
Now, Hamlet, where's Polonius?
Hamlet.
He's in heav'n;
But if you think that I'm to lying giv'n,
Send there to see: if there your man don't nick him,
E'en to the devil go yourself and seek him.
If in a month you find not where he's closeted,
Your nose will hint i'th' dust-hole he's deposited.
King.
Go seek him there: I fear he's only humming.
[Exit Guild.
Hamlet.
Pray don't fatigue yourself; he'll wait your coming.
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From pure regard for thee, this cursed blunder
Must send thee, Hamlet, hence.
Hamlet.
I shou'dn't wonder!
King.
Therefore for England instantly prepare;
The packet's ready and the wind is fair.
Hamlet.
Good.
King.
So you'd say if you our reasons knew.
Hamlet.
There's one above sees all—But come; adieu!
[Exit Hamlet and Rosen.
King.
Now, England, if thou car'st for us a button,
Thou'lt sweetly tickle this young jockey's mutton .
[Exit King.
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SCENE II.
An other Room in the Palace.Enter Queen and Horatio.
Queen.
I will not speak to her.
Horatio.
She'll breed a riot;
You'd better have her in to keep her quiet.
Queen.
Well, send her up. (Exit Hor.)
I think the devil's in it,
That I can never be alone a minute.
Enter Horatio with Ophelia.
Ophelia
(sings.)
Three children sliding on the ice,
All on a summer's day;
The ice it broke—they all fell in—
The rest they ran away.
Queen.
Sweet lady, what's the meaning of this song?
Ophelia.
I'll sing the rest—for 'tis not very long.
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Now had these children staid at home,
And slid upon dry ground;
They broken necks had had, perchance,
But never had been drown'd.
And slid upon dry ground;
They broken necks had had, perchance,
But never had been drown'd.
Enter King.
King.
How is't, Ophelia?
Ophelia.
Where's the use of sorrow?
For, ah! we're here to-day and gone to-morrow!
SONG.—Ophelia.
(Tune—“How happy could I be with either.”)
'Tis the fashion for lads to court lasses,
But I know a case quite contrary:
Peggy Tomkins lov'd Johnny the butler,
And she whistled for John down the area.
Ri tol, &c.
King.
Pretty Ophelia.
Ophelia.
Aye, 'tis true, depend on't;
And so, without an oath, I'll make an end on't.
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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.
Ri tol, &c.
And quickly I'll come and unbar it.”—
But, to shorten a very long story,
Peggy staid all night long in John's garret.
Ri tol, &c.
King.
How long hath she been thus?
Queen.
I cannot tell.
Ophelia.
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— good night, good night.
[Exit Ophelia.
King.
Follow her close: Horatio, you be at her;
See you look sharp. (Exit Hor.)
Hollo, there! what's the matter?
[Noise within.
Enter Marcellus.
Marcellus.
My lord, my lord, Laertes heads a mob,
And comes to knock about your royal nob.
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And loudly cry, “Laertes shall be king.”
[Exit Marcellus
[Noise without.
Enter Laertes.
Laertes.
You blackguard! (To the King)
Queen.
Fie! Laertes.
Laertes.
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.)
Laertes.
Stop, I say!
Who kill'd my father?
King.
How should I know?
Laertes.
Nonsense.
Queen.
He did not kill him.
King.
No, upon my conscience.
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Laertes.
None of your blarney,— but I'll soon find out.
I'll twig ye all for't—I'll not stand your humming.
Enter Horatio.
Horatio.
Here's Miss Ophelia, Sir.
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.
Laertes.
To see her thus—O, 'tis a doleful pity!
Ophelia.
What must be, must—but hush!—I'll end my ditty.
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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,
Who liv'd in country quarters,
Seduc'd a maid who hang'd herself,
One morning in her garters.
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, 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.
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.
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.
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.
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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.
[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 .
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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.
'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!
Laertes.
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?
Laertes.
Right!
Enter Queen.
Queen.
Misfortunes ne'er come singly oft I've sound:
Now here's a pretty rig—Ophelia's drown'd.
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(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.
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!
[Exit.
King.
I've had enough to do to keep him quiet,
And now will he kick up another riot.
[Exeunt.
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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.
Horatio.
Use, Sir, is second nature.
Hamlet.
On reflection,
I think I'd do the same were I a sexton.
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(sings.)
The carpenter, shipwright, and mason may boast
Of the strength of their buildings—they're nut-shells at most.
With my dig, dig, &c.
But the sexton builds stronger than all put together,
For the houses that he makes, defy wind and weather;
And his tenants live snug, undisturb'd, and content,
For they're ne'er teaz'd for taxes, nor troubled for rent.
With my dig, dig, &c.
[Gravedigger throws up several sculls.
Hamlet.
That scull might once have been a politician's;
And that a lawyer's, or a grave physician's.
Law, politics, and physic, now must grovel,
To bear a basting with a dirty shovel!—
That sexton seems a dev'lish dry old elf:
Horatio, shall we quiz him?
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?
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Of all good fellows sure he was the best, Sir!
This scull was Yorick's once, the late King's jester.
Hamlet.
Alas, poor Yorick! Sir, I knew him well—O!
He was indeed a jolly roaring fellow.
Horatio, he would get dead drunk,—and after
Could keep the table in a roar of laughter:
The first and last was he in ev'ry row:
O' th' wrong side of his mouth he's laughing now.
Now, when Miss Prim is seated at her glass,
With paints and washes to bedaub her face,
Tell her (to make her giggle at her toilette),
That paint her face inch thick, yet death will spoil it.
SONG.—Hamlet.
(Tune—“Dorothy Dumps.”)
When depriv'd of our breath,
By that harlequin, Death,
His pantomime changes fast follow:
First his magic displaces
Eyes and nose from our faces,
And like this leaves them ghastly and hollow.
By that harlequin, Death,
His pantomime changes fast follow:
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.
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.
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Next, without much delay,
We're converted to clay;
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!
We're converted to clay;
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
Julius Cæsar's bold face,
'Till we find it i' th' form of a jug;
And renown'd Alexander,
The world's great commander,
A two-penny earthenware mug!!
Julius Cæsar's bold face,
'Till we find it i' th' form of a jug;
And renown'd Alexander,
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.
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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,
May'st thou be one in my poor sister's train.
Hamlet.
What, my old sweetheart! We're bewitch'd, 'tis plain .
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.
DUETT.—Laertes and Hamlet.
(Tune—“Nancy Dawson.”)
Laertes.
Sexton, throw aside your spade,
Don't be in so much haste, my blade;
Once more I'll buss the bonny maid,
Before the grave you fill, Sir.
[Leaps into the grave.
Don't be in so much haste, my blade;
Once more I'll buss the bonny maid,
Before the grave you fill, Sir.
Now cover up the quick and dead,
And pile your dust upon my head,
'Till of this flat a mount you've made
As high as Greenwich-hill, Sir.
And pile your dust upon my head,
'Till of this flat a mount you've made
As high as Greenwich-hill, Sir.
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(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—
Now dam'me but I'll choak thee.
[Springs out of the grave, and catches Hamlet by the throat.
Hamlet.
Let go my throat—don't squeeze so tight;
For tho' I'm not the first to fight,
I'll thump you to your heart's delight,—
So you'd better not provoke me.
For tho' I'm not the first to fight,
I'll thump you to your heart's delight,—
So you'd better not provoke me.
I'll fight for her, (so hold your mag),
Until my eye-lids cease to wag;
But if you only mean to brag,
Come, tell me what you'll do, Sir.
Until my eye-lids cease to wag;
But if you only mean to brag,
Come, tell me what you'll do, Sir.
Of paltry Greenwich-hill you speak,
But on me, I'll let them pile a heap,
That shall rival the Devil's A---e a-peak—
I'll rant as well as you, Sir.
But on me, I'll let them pile a heap,
That shall rival the Devil's A---e a-peak—
I'll rant as well as you, Sir.
[Exeunt Hamlet and Horatio.
Queen.
Alas, he's crack'd! Awhile he'll growl like Towzer :
Anon, he's patient as a hungry mouser .
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Good Gertrude, see your crazy son you make fast.
[Exit Queen.
And now, Laertes—we'll go home to breakfast.
[Exeunt King, Laertes, &c. &c.
SCENE V.
A Hall in the Palace.Enter Hamlet and Horatio.
Hamlet.
Horatio, I am sorry for this squabble;
I fear 'twill get me in a precious hobble.
Enter Osrick.
Osrick.
(To Hamlet)
His Majesty hath made a match for you, Sir,
To spar with young Laertes,—a prime bruiser;—
And betted him ten shillings to a crown,
That you, my lord, will give the first knock down.
Laertes is quite ready to set to;
They're all assembled, and but wait for you.
Hamlet.
Lead on: I'll fight him, Sir: I ne'er felt bolder.
Horatio.
I'll be your second.
Osrick.
I, your bottle-holder.
[Exeunt.
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SCENE VI.
The Court of Denmark.Flourish of trumpets and drums.
King and Queen seated—Laertes, Osrick, Marcellus, Bernardo, Gentlemen and Ladies discovered.
Enter Hamlet and Horatio.
King.
To put an end to squabble, strife, and noise,
Shake hands and make it up, my jolly boys.
[To Hamlet and Laertes.
Hamlet.
(To Laertes)
Sir, I have done you wrong, and sorely rue it,
But, on my word, I didn't go to do it:
Therefore let's make it up;—come, don't be hard on—
Laertes.
Enough; no man can do more than beg pardon.—
We're friends.—
Hamlet.
With all my heart. Come, lets set to.
Bring us the gloves—
Laertes.
And bring me a pair too.
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Hamlet, you know the wager.
Hamlet.
Aye, my lord:
You've back'd the worser man tho' on my word.
King.
I'm not afraid; I'm sure you'll not fight shy;
If you don't win, I know at least you'll try.
Laertes.
These gloves are much too tight—another pair—
Hamlet.
Mine fit.—Are his as soft as mine?
Osrick.
All's fair.
King.
If i' th' two first rounds Hamlet hit most blows,
Or 'scape the third without a bloody nose,
Let all the guns we've got make the discovery;—
The King shall drink to Hamlet's quick recovery:
And in the beer this nutmeg shall he pound,
The largest that in Denmark could be found.—
Give me the mug: now drum a loud tattoo;
The drum shall tell the trumpet what to do;
The trumpet's tantarara, post, shall set off,
And tell the cannoneer the guns to let off;
The cannoneer shall fire 'em, and then—stop—
I think I've said enough—I'll drink a drop.
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Come, now begin the bout.
And you, the judges, keep a sharp look out.
Hamlet and Laertes spar.
Hamlet.
A hit.—
Laertes.
No hit.
Osrick.
A hit, I'll bet a crown.
Hamlet.
A hit or not, 't has almost knock'd him down.
[Drums, trumpets, and cannon.
King.
Give me the beer: this nutmeg is for you.
[Puts poison into the drink.
Hamlet, your health (pretends to drink)
. You'd better drink some too.
Hamlet.
Let's have this round; when I want drink I'll ask it.
(They fight again.)
Egad, I had him there in the bread-basket .
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Hamlet, your health. (drinks)
Ha! this is famous stingo!
King.
Don't drink.
Queen.
I have.
King.
The poison'd cup, by jingo!
[Aside.
Laertes.
I'll nab him;—but it goes against my conscience.
[Aside.
Hamlet.
Laertes, you're afraid to hit.
Laertes.
Pooh! nonsense.
They fight again—Hamlet knocks Laertes down.—The Queen swoons.
Osrick.
Look to the Queen. (To Laertes)
How is't, my lord?
Laertes.
I'm dish'd;
I'm caught as neatly as I could have wish'd.
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How does the Queen?
King.
To see your bloody noses,
Her stomach-royal slightly indisposes.
Queen.
No, no; I'm poison'd:—your damn'd uncle, here,
Has mix'd a deadly poison with the beer.—
'Tis now too late—I've had a precious swig—
If I'm not a dead woman—dash my wig .
[Dies.
Hamlet.
O, treachery! I'll smoke it on my oath.
Laertes.
O, Hamlet! 'tis all dickey with us both :
You've done my business by a blow, 'tis true;
But I—Oh! I—have done the same for you.
You're mother's poison'd;—dying, here I lie—
The King's to blame—
Hamlet.
Die, damn'd old murd'rer, die.
[Kills the King.
Laertes.
You've serv'd him right. Hamlet, let's square accounts;
Tho' there's some little diff'rence in amounts:
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Now, then, I'm off.—
[Dies.
Hamlet.
I'll follow in a second.—
You that look pale, and quiver, quirk, and quake,
And scarce know what of this sad scene to make—
O, I could tell—for there's a great deal in it—
I'm dead,— at least, I shall be in a minute—
But promise me, before I wish good night,
Horatio, that you'll tell my story right.
Horatio.
No, I'll die too—here's poison in the cup—
I'll play the Roman, and I'll drink it up.
Hamlet.
Give me the cup; you shall not have a drop—
For here you must a little longer stop.
If e'er you lov'd me—live—my tale to tell—
And then—I care not if you go—to h---ll.—
That last cross-buttock dish'd me—Oh!—I can't get on—
Here goes, Horatio,— going— going— gone.
[Dies.
Horatio.
Well, here's a noble fellow gone to pot!—
This altogether's been a pretty plot!
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Were better suited to the field of battle.
Charon, in safety, o'er the Styx will ferry 'em;
And all that we can do now—is to bury 'em.
[A dead march.
[The curtain falls.
THE END OF HAMLET TRAVESTIE.
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