The chariest 8 maid is prodigal enough, Oph. I shall the effect of this good lesson keep, O fear me not, I stay too long ;-But here my father comes. Enter POLONIUS. A double blessing is a double grace; Pol. Yet here, Laertes! aboard, aboard, for shame; you; [Laying his Hand on LAERTES' Head. And these few precepts in thy memory Look thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue, Nor any unproportion'd thought his act. 8 Most cautious. 9 Careless. * Regards not his own lessons, 2 Write. Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. ment. Laer. Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord. tend.9 'Tis in my memory lock'd, And you yourself shall keep the key of it. Laer. Farewell. [Exit LAERTES. 3 Palm of the hand. 4 Opinion. 5 Noble. Chiefly. 7 Economy. 8 Infix. 9 Wait. Pol. What is't, Ophelia, he hath said to you? Hamlet. ous: If it be so, (as so 'tis put on me, Oph. He hath, my lord, of late, made many tenders Of his affection to me. Pol. Affection ? puh! you speak like a green girl, Unsifted' in such perilous circumstance. Do you believe his tenders, as you call them ? Oph. I do not know, my lord, what I should think. Pol. Marry, I'll teach you: think yourself a baby ; That you have ta'en these tenders for true pay, Which are not sterling. Tender yourself more dearly; Or (not to crack the wind of the poor phrase, Wronging it thus,) you'll tender me a fool. Oph. My lord, he hath importun'd me with love, In honourable fashion.2 Pol. Ay, fashion you may call it; go to, go to. Oph. And hath given countenance to his speech, my lord, With almost all the holy vows of heaven. Pol. Ay, springes to catch woodcocks. I do know, When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul maiden presence; Set your entreatments 3 at a higher rate, young; [Exeunt. SCENE IV. The Platform. Enter HAMLET, HORATIO, and MARCELLUS. Ham. The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold. 3 Company. 4 Longer line ; a horse fastened by a string to a stake, is terbered. Hor. It is a nipping and an eager 7 air. I think, it lacks of twelve. the season, Wherein the spirit held is wont to walk. [A Flourish of Trumpets, and Ordnance shot off, within. What does this mean, my lord ? Ham. The king doth wake to-night, and takes his rouse, 8 Keeps wassel, and the swaggering up-spring' reels; And, as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down, The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out The triumph of his pledge. Hor. Is it a custom ? Ham. Ay, marry, is't: But to my mind,—though I am native here, And to the manner born,-it is a custom More honour'd in the breach, than the observance. This heavy-headed revel, east and west, Makes us traduc'd, and tax'd of other nations : They clepe us, drunkards, and with swinish phrase Soil our addition; and, indeed it takes From our achievements, though perform'd at height, The pith and marrow of our attribute. So, oft it chances in particular men, That, for some vicious mole of nature in them, As, in their birth, (wherein they are not guilty, Since nature cannot choose his origin,) 7 Sharp. 8 Jovial draught, 9 Jollity, ' A dance. 2 Call, |