SONG.—Hamlet. (Tune—“Liberty Hall.”)
Tho' a talent for acting must nature impart,
'Tis refin'd and improv'd by the lessons of art:
So I'll teach you the rules my experience affords,
As I once had an itching myself for the boards.
Tol de rol, &c.
When speaking a speech, it an actor becomes
To mumble as tho' he'd his mouth full of plums,
For mouthing's a sine qua non: if you doubt it,
Pray say what were W&wblank; or W&wblank; without it?
Tol de rol, &c.
All actors should study what folks call the graces—
That's the twist of their legs, and the set of their faces:
But for gracefully using their arms, my advice is,
They, like C&wblank;, saw the air, as it were, into slices.
Tol de rol, &c.
Some will tell you, “be calm;” but in spite of their cant,
And their critical jargon, strut, bellow, and rant:
To bamboozle the flats and to keep them from snoring,
R&wblank; proves that there's nothing like ranting and roaring.
Tol de rol, &c.

But in speeches which, teeming with passion, require
All an E&wblank;'s spirit, a K&wblank;'s own fire,
If you'd hope H&wblank; S&wblank; to equal in fame,
You, like him, must be lifeless, insipid, and tame.
Tol de rol, &c.
Some critics assert (but I stoutly dispute it),
That each word stands in need of an action to suit it:—
Their principle's false;—and if fairly they'll try it,
C&wblank;, C&wblank;, and twenty besides, will deny it.
Tol de rol, &c.
Always garnish the author's, when playing the clown,
Like M&wblank; or D&wblank; with wit of your own:
And tho' critics should hiss, yet the gods' approbation
In a horse-laugh will greet you.—So ends my oration.
Tol de rol, &c. [Exit First Actor. Enter Horatio.

Hamlet.
Horatio, is that you? I'm glad to meet you.

Horatio.
My honour'd lord, most proud am I to greet you.

Hamlet.
Horatio, you're as tight a lad, I say,
As one may meet with in a summer's day.

Horatio.
Come, that won't do, my lord:—now that's all gammon (c)8Q0013.
He's throwing out a sprat to catch a salmon. [Aside.

Hamlet.
Sir, if you think it gammon, you mistake me;
For if I gammon you, the devil take me.
You know I cannot hope to gain a louse,
From you, who are as poor as a church-mouse.
No! let him cringe who hopes to mend his gains;
I should but get my labour for my pains.
Since I could tell a dray-horse from a poney,
I've fix'd on you, Horatio, for my croney:
You're ne'er down-hearted; fortune's freaks you smother;
And when she slaps one cheek, you hold up t'other.
Give me the man that stands all sorts of weather,
And we shall soon be hand and glove together.
Something too much of this.—

Horatio.
Pray what's the reason
Your lordship sent for me?

Hamlet.
To smoke out treason.
You must with me in a good joke unite:
We have pic-nic theatricals to night:
A pantomimic ballet I intend
To represent my dad's untimely end.
To do't in stile I've made great preparations—
New music, scen'ry, dresses, decorations.—
I've just sent tickets to the King and Queen
Now watch my uncle in the murder scene—
I'll bet a wager he'll convict himself;
If not, this spectre is a lying elf,
And I have all this time been drunk or dreaming.
However, let us closely note his seeming.

Horatio.
My lord, we will. [Flourish of Trumpets and Drums.

Hamlet.
This trumpeting and drumming
Gives notice that the King and Queen are coming.
To keep the joke up, I must idle be:
Go to your place, and keep a seat for me. A GRAND MARCH. Enter Polonius, King, Queen, Ophelia, Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, Osrick, Marcellus, Bernardo, Gentlemen and Ladies.

King.
How fares our cousin Hamlet?

Hamlet.
Tightly, tightly;
I eat the air:—You can't feed pigs so lightly.

King.
Pooh! Nonsense, Sir,—Such words I don't acknowledge.

Hamlet. (To Pol.)
You told me, Sir, you acted once at college.

Polonius.
I acted Cæsar—Brutus laid me lower.

Hamlet.
A brute indeed, to kill so great a bore!

Queen.
Come, sit by me, dear Hamlet, whilst they're acting.

Hamlet.
I'd rather not; here's metal more attracting. (To Ophelia)
Ophelia, may I lie upon your knees?

Ophelia.
O, surely; or wherever else you please.

Hamlet.
Look at mama—She's grinning by the pow'rs,
And father died within the two last hours!—

Ophelia.
Two months.

Hamlet.
So long? Nay, then, I'll turn the tables.
The deuce take black, I'll have a suit of sables.

Ophelia.
Pray what's the play, my Lord?

Hamlet.
I've ne'er a bill;
I cannot tell;—but that rum jockey will. THE CURTAIN RISES. Enter 2d Actor as Prologue.
For us and for our pantomime,
We beg you'll give us needful time. [Exit.

THE PANTOMIME.

SCENE.—A Garden.

Enter Duke and Duchess—They embrace—Vow eternal love and constancy—Duke suddenly taken ill—Duchess alarmed—Shrieks—Enter a Page—Exit—And return with a bottle and glass—Duchess fills the glass for Duke, whilst she herself receives consolation from the bottle— Duke intimates that he feels his end fast approaching— Duchess strikes her forehead, clasps her hands, &c. &c.— (the usual pantomime signs of distress)—Vows never to survive him—At least, to live single ever after—Duke shakes his head in a manner as expressive as possible of the monosyllable “fudge”—Duchess points to the ceiling, (the pantomime mode of swearing), and exhibits a scroll thus inscribed:

They embrace—Duke gently reclines his head over his right shoulder, and meets it with the palm of his right hand (pantomime for “sleepy”)—Duchess takes the hint— Reaches a chair—Duke seats himself—Sleeps—Snores— Duchess points to the Duke—Presses her heart—Then points to the ceiling—and Exit.

Hamlet. (To Queen)
Like you the play?

Queen.
Indeed I must confess,
The lady vows too much.

Hamlet.
She means no less.

King.
I hope the actors no offence intend?

Hamlet.
You'll find they are but jesting in the end:
There's no offence: the story, please your grace,
A murder done in some outlandish place.
O, 'twas a scurvy trick; but that all nonsense is
To you and I, my Lord, who have clear consciences.
I never did a murder—I can bear it;
But if the cap fit you, why you may wear it.
But let's be quiet—See, they're coming in.—
Now, murd'rer, damn your faces and begin.

The Pantomime continued.

Enter Duke's nephew—Listens whether the Duke be asleep— Takes a bottle from his pocket—Attempts in vain to draw the cork—Exit.—And return with a corkscrew and a funnel—Draws the cork—Puts the funnel to Duke's ear—Pours the contents of the bottle into it—A noise— Exit in haste.

Hamlet.
Is not the case of the poor Duke a hard one?
For his estate he's poison'd in his garden.

You'll see anon the murd'rer weds his widow;—
'Twas his own nephew who the murder did.

King.
Oh! King faints and is carried off—Followed by Queen, Polonius, Ophelia, &c. &c. [Manent Hamlet and Horatio.

SONG.—Hamlet.
O dear what can the matter be!
Dear, dear, what can the matter be!
O dear what can the matter be!
  Did you see how he fainted away?
To condemn any man on slight grounds I'm not willing,
But in future I'll take the ghost's word for a shilling:—
Did you notice the king when it came to the killing?—
  And now, friend, I wish you good day. [Exit Horatio. Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.

Rosen.
My lord, I have a message.

Hamlet.
Well, what is it?

Rosen.
The Queen desires you'll pay her soon a visit.

Hamlet.
I'll come anon.—But stay—upon my life
I'll have you play a tune upon this fife.

Rosen.
My lord, I can't.

Hamlet.
I know you can.

Rosen.
The fact is
I could play once, but now I'm out of practice.

Hamlet.
Come, Sir, then you shall play. (To Guild.)

Guild.
My lord, I would,
But I can't play at all, nor ever could.

Hamlet.
Why, look ye, what a nincompoop you'd make me.
Zounds, Sir, for what the devil do you take me?
Not play on this, and yet sound me! Od's life!
D'ye think I'm easier play'd on than a fife?
I'm not the booby you may think—March! fly!—
And tell my mother I'll come by and by. [Exeunt Rosen. and Guild.

SONG.—Hamlet. (Tune—“Hey randy dandy O.”)
'Tis now the very time of night,
  Hey randy dandy O!
When ghosts to stalk about delight,
  With their gallopping randy dandy O.

Tis now the time when church-yards yawn,
  Hey randy dandy O!
And let their tenants out till morn,
  With their gallopping randy dandy O.
For a precious row I'm just in cue;
  Hey randy dandy O!
Some mischief I should like to do.
  With my gallopping randy dandy O.
But first I'll to my mother go,
  Hey randy dandy O!
And what is what I'll soon let her know,
  With my gallopping randy dandy O. [Exit Hamlet.

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