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here, Laertes? Aboard, aboard, for shame.

      The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail,

      And you are stay'd for. There, my blessing with you.

      [Laying his hand on Laertes's head]

      And these few precepts in thy memory

      Look thou character. Give thy thoughts

                               no tongue,

      Nor any unproportion'd thought his act.

      Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar.

      Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,

      Grapple them unto thy soul with hoops of steel;

      But do not dull thy palm with entertainment

      Of each new-hatch'd, unfledg'd comrade. Beware

      Of entrance to a quarrel; but being in,

      Bear't that th'opposed may beware of thee.

      Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice:

      Take each man's censure, but reserve

                               thy judgement.

      Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,

      But not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy:

      For the apparel oft proclaims the man;

      And they in France of the best rank and station

      Are of a most select and generous chief in that.

      Neither a borrower nor a lender be:

      For loan oft loses both itself and friend;

      And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.

      This above all: to thine own self be true;

      And it must follow, as the night the day,

      Thou canst not then be false to any man.

      Farewell: my blessing season this in thee.

Laertes

      Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord.

Polonius

      The time invites you; go, your servants tend.

Laertes

      Farewell, Ophelia, and remember well

      What I have said to you.

Ophelia

      'Tis in my memory lock'd,

      And you yourself shall keep the key of it.

Laertes

      Farewell.

      [Exit]

Polonius

      What is't, Ophelia, he hath said to you?

Ophelia

      So please you, something touching

                               the Lord Hamlet.

Polonius

      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 bounteous.

      If it be so, – as so 'tis put on me,

      And that in way of caution, – I must tell you

      You do not understand yourself so clearly

      As it behoves my daughter and your honour.

      What is between you? Give me up the truth.

Ophelia

      He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders

      Of his affection to me.

Polonius

      Affection! Pooh! You speak like a green girl,

      Unsifted in such perilous circumstance.

      Do you believe his tenders, as you call them?

Ophelia

      I do not know, my lord, what I should think.

Polonius

      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,

      Running it thus, – you'll tender me a fool.

Ophelia

      My lord, he hath importun'd me with love

      In honourable fashion.

Polonius

      Ay, fashion you may call it; go to, go to.

Ophelia

      And hath given countenance to his speech, my lord,

      With almost all the holy vows of heaven.

Polonius

      Ay, springes to catch woodcocks. I do know,

      When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul

      Lends the tongue vows: these blazes, daughter,

      Giving more light than heat, extinct in both,

      Even in their promise, as it is a-making,

      You must not take for fire. From this time

      Be something scanter of your maiden presence;

      Set your entreatments at a higher rate

      Than a command to parley. For Lord Hamlet,

      Believe so much in him that he is young;

      And with a larger tether may he walk

      Than may be given you. In few, Ophelia,

      Do not believe his vows; for they are brokers,

      Not of that dye which their investments show,

      But mere implorators of unholy suits,

      Breathing like sanctified and pious bawds,

      The better to beguile. This is for all:

      I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth

      Have you so slander any moment leisure

      As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet.

      Look to't, I charge you; come your ways.

Ophelia

      I shall obey, my lord.

      [Exeunt]

      Scene IV

      The platform

      Enter Hamlet, Horatio and Marcellus

Hamlet

      The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold.

Horatio

      It is a nipping and an eager air.

Hamlet

      What hour now?

Horatio

      I think it lacks of twelve.

Marcellus

      No, it is struck.

Horatio

      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?

Hamlet

      The King doth wake tonight and takes his rouse,

      Keeps wassail, and the swaggering upspring reels;

      And as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down,

      The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out

      The triumph

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