Gertrude
My husband is a gentle-man, unflawed
Save that thou art a brother. Nay, not so!
Thou wer't a brother, now thou hast thine lost!
'Twere my dear husband, "brother;" who hath been lost!

Claudius
And for that loss we weep-have wept.

Gertrude
Dry tears of sand! Of bleachéd chalk enscar
That countenance-a fallow dust that desert-like
Remain unmoved-unshaméd by sedition.
There once was a man,
Who cried tears of sand,
Sing hey, hidy-hey hidy ho.
For lack of another,
He had but one brother,
Sing hey dilly-hey dolly doe.
Then one day he died,
The brother he lied,
Sing hey filly, hey folly hey.
He never thought further,
And no one cried murder,
Sing silent, sing silent all day.