fancy-dance, as he followed the spiritual remains of his ghostly father
across the stage--_Hamlet_, the mortal, being about the size of a
mutton-ham, while his father, the immortal, supposed to be exceedingly
ethereal, was tall enough and stout enough for a professional
coal-heaver, instead of an amateur ghost--the intangible spirit,
moreover, having one hand in his overcoat pocket, to keep his fingers
warm, while in the other he flourished a short broomstick, as if to keep
his degenerate scion at a respectful distance, were so ludicrous, that
John Spout seized Wagstaff's book, and produced the sketch to be found
at the beginning of this chapter.

And in the last death-scene _Hamlet_ really won such honors as were
never before accorded to mortal tragedian; being by this time a little
doubtful whom to kill, he made an end of the entire company in rotation.
First, he stabbed the _King_, who rolled over once or twice, and died
with his legs so tangled up in the _Queen's_ train that _she_ had to
expire in a hard knot; then he stabbed _Laertes_, who died cross-legged;
then he stabbed _Osric_; and not content with this, he tripped up his
heels and stood on his stomach, till he died in an agony of indigestion;
then he tried to stick _Horatio_, but only succeeded in knocking his
wig off; and then, turning up stage, made extensive preparations for
terminating his own existence.

First, as everybody was dead, and everybody's legs were lying round
loose, he had to lay them out of the way carefully, so as not to
interfere with the comfort of the corpses; then he picked up all the
swords and laid them cautiously in a corner, so that the points
shouldn't stick in him when he fell; then he looked up at the curtain to
see that he was clear of that, then he looked down at the traps to see
that he was clear of them, and having at last arranged everything to his
satisfaction, he proceeded to go systematically through his dying
agonies, to the great satisfaction of the audience. Suffice it to say,
that when the spasms were ended, and he had finally become a "cold
corpus," his black tights were very dirty and had holes in the knees.

When the curtain went down _Hamlet_ was too exhausted to get up, and
instantly everybody rushed to the rescue; those he had slaughtered but a
few minutes before, forgot their mortal wounds, and hastened to the
murderer with something to drink. The _King_ rushed up with a pewter mug
of beer; _Horatio_ presente