Polonius.
He'll soon be here:—then let him have his whack:
Tell him he'll bring a house upon his back;
Tell him his pranks may get him soon a kicking,
And that your grace has sav'd him many a licking.
I'll go and hide myself behind the curtain.
Now mind your eye—

Queen.
I'll tip it him for certain. [Polonius conceals himself behind the arras.

Enter Hamlet.

Hamlet.
Well, mother, what's the matter with you now?

Queen.
Your father, Sir, has made a pretty row (d)8Q0014.

Hamlet.
Mother, you've put my father in a passion.

Queen.
Zounds, Sir, don't answer in this idle fashion.

Hamlet.
None of your blarney; it won't do to-night,

Queen.
Have you forgot me, puppy?

Hamlet.
No, not quite:
You are the Queen—wife to your husband's brother;
And (tho' I blush to own you,) you're my mother.

Queen.
Behave yourself;—be decent, Sir, I beg.—

Hamlet.
Sit down—and dam'me if you stir a peg
'Till I have let you see your very soul—

Queen.
What! Would'st thou kill me? Help, ho!—watch!—

Polonius. (Behind)
Patrole!

Hamlet.
A rat—a rat—by Jove, that's just the thing—
He's dead as sure as two-pence. [Hamlet draws, and stabs Polonius behind the arras.
Is't the King?

Queen.
O, Hamlet! you have done a deed felonious;
You've kill'd our poor lord chamberlain Polonius.

Hamlet.
They who throw stones should mind their windows, mother.—
Who kill'd a king and married with his brother?

Queen.
If I know what you mean, the devil burn me.

Hamlet. (Lifts up the arras and sees Polonius.)
Thou'st paid for list'ning to what don't concern thee. (To Queen)
Leave wringing of your hands: before we part,
I'll take the liberty to wring your heart.

Queen.
What have I done that you dare make so free,
As thus to blow me up, and bully me?

Hamlet.
Oh! such an act—it scarcely can be nam'd—
So bad—I wonder you're not more asham'd.
Jump o'er a broomstick (e)8Q0015, but don't make a farce on
The marriage ceremonies of the parson.

Queen.
What act d'you mean?—You hoax—there's nothing in it.

Hamlet.
I'll let you know my meaning in a minute.

SONG.—Hamlet. (Tune—“Drops of Brandy.”)
Come sit you down here, ma'am, a little,
  And I'll shew you two counterfeit faces;
They're done from the life to a tittle—
  Come, none of your fine airs and graces.
Look on this first: the likeness you well know,—
  Like a ploughman so plump and so chubby;
A good-looking, fine, strapping fellow—
  Now, madam, this once was your hubby.
Ri tol, &c.
You'll now please to look upon this:
  I'd have married a monkey as soon—
An old, ugly, undersized quiz—
  Zounds! the fellow looks like a baboon.
How could you take this—and forego
  The one I now hold in my hand, mother?
You can't say 'twas for love; for you know
  That you're almost as old as my grandmother.
Ri tol, &c.

Queen.
O, say no more—I'll mind what I'm about:
Your words have almost turn'd me inside out.

Hamlet.
Nay, but to live (in not the best repute)
With that inhuman, cruel, murd'rous brute;
A very Filch, that more deserves to hang
Than any one of the light-finger'd gang;
That from a shelf the precious crown did thieve,
And put it in his pocket—without leave.
A King of shreds and patches—(Enter Ghost) Ha! here's dad!
What is't you're come about?

Queen.
Alas! he's mad!

TRIO.—Hamlet, Ghost, Queen. (Tune—“O Lady Fair.”) Hamlet—
O spectre grim! What brings thee here now?
Thou com'st thy tardy son to chide, I fear now.
I own thy commission, as yet, is not quite done;
Don't be in a hurry, and all shall be right done. Ghost.—
Thee of thy promise I come to remind, Sir:— (bass)
A nod's like a wink to a horse that is blind, Sir. Queen—
Say, Hamlet, say! on what art thou staring?
So frighten'd am I, that I vow 'tis past bearing.

On what art thou looking? To whom art thou talking?
I can see nothing!—O, where art thou walking? Ghost—
But look at thy mother; she seems in a stew, Sir;
Tell her she'd better not be frighten'd, pray do, Sir! Hamlet Together.—
Whom 'tis I look at, fain you'd be knowing:
Straight thro' the trap-door now he's going. Queen Together.—
Whom 'tis you look at, fain I'd be knowing:—
Who thro' the trap-door now is going? Ghost Together.—
Whom 'tis you look at, fain she'd be knowing:—
Straight thro' the trap-door now I'm going. [Ghost sinks.

Queen.
Hamlet, these pranks of your's do much amaze me:
You surely must be either drunk or crazy.

Hamlet.
Mother—I fear your crimes are past all cure;
But I am no more mad nor drunk than you are:
So don't humbug yourself; I'm not in liquor.—
Confess your sins this instant to the vicar;
Repent what's past, and don't do so again—

Queen.
O Hamlet, you have cut my heart in twain.

Hamlet.
Then throw away the rotten part, good mother,
And strive to make a better use of t'other.
Good night: and when you next lie down your head,
Be sure you kick my uncle out of bed:

For tho' at best you're no great things—'twere right
To keep appearance up.—Once more, good night. [Exit Queen.
I must be staunch with her:—I dare not falter:
And thus we whip a thief, to save him from the halter. [Exit Hamlet. END OF THE SECOND ACT.

ACT THE THIRD.

HAMLET TRAVESTIE.

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