Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, Laer 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; The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail, Look thou character.3 Give thy thoughts no tongue, Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. ment. Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, But not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy: And they in France, of the best rank and station, (1) Careless. (2) Regards not his own lessons. (3) Write. (5) Opinion. VOL. VIII. (4) Palm of the hand. (6) Noble. L (7) Chiefly And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.1 Laer. Farewell, Ophelia; and remember well What I have said to you. Oph. 'Tis in my memory lock'd, And you yourself shall keep the key of it. Laer. Farewell. [Exit Laertes, Pol. What is't, Ophelia, he hath said to you? Oph. So please you, something touching the lord Hamlet. Pol. Marry, well bethought: 'Tis told me, he hath very oft of late Given private time to you: and you yourself Have of your audience been most free and boun; teous: If it be so (as so 'tis put on me, And that in way of caution,) I must tell you, 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; (1) Economy. Or (not to crack the wind of the poor phrase, Oph. My lord, he hath impórtun'd me with love, In honourable fashion.1 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, [Exeunt. SCENE IV. The platform. Enter Hamlet, Ham. The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold. (1) Manner. (2) Company. (3) Longer line; a horse fastened by a string to a stake, is tethered. (5) Implorers. (6) Sharp. Ham. What hour now? Hor. Mar. No, it is struck. I think, it lacks of twelve. Hor. Indeed? I heard it not; it then draws near the season, Wherein the spirit held his 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,1 Keeps wassel,2 and the swaggering up-spring3 reels, And, as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down, The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out The triumph of his pledge. Hor. Ham. Ay, marry, is't: Is it a custom? But to my mind,-though I am native here, More honour'd in the breach, than the observance. From our achievements, though perform'd at height, So, oft it chances in particular men, That, for some vicious mole of nature in them, (1) Jovial draught. (2) Jollity. (3) A dance. As infinite as man may undergo,) Shall, in the general censure, take corruption To his own scandal. Hor. Enter Ghost. Look, my lord, it comes! Thou com'st in such a questionable? shape, With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls? this? wherefore? what should we do? Hor. It beckons you to go away with it, As if it some impartment did desire To you alone. Mar. Look, with what courteous action It waves you to a more removed4 ground: But do not go with it. Hor. No, by no means. Ham. It will not speak; then I will follow it. Hor. Do not, my lord. Ham. (1) Do out. (4) Remote. Why, what should be the fear |