CLAUDIUS    king of Denmark. (KING CLAUDIUS:)

HAMLET      son to the late, and nephew to the present king.

POLONIUS    lord chamberlain. (LORD POLONIUS:)

HORATIO     friend to Hamlet.

LAERTES     son to Polonius.

LUCIANUS    nephew to the king.

ROSENCRANTZ |  courtiers.

      A Gentleman, (Gentlemen:)

      A Priest. (First Priest:)

      |  officers.

FRANCISCO   a soldier.

REYNALDO    servant to Polonius.
      (First Player:)
      (Player King:)
      (Player Queen:)

      Two Clowns, grave-diggers.
      (First Clown:)
      (Second Clown:)


      A Captain.

      English Ambassadors. (First Ambassador:)

GERTRUDE    queen of Denmark, and mother to Hamlet.

OPHELIA     daughter to Polonius.

      Lords, Ladies, Officers, Soldiers, Sailors, Messengers,
      and other Attendants. (Lord:)
      (First Sailor:)

      Ghost of Hamlet's Father. (Ghost:)

SCENE Denmark.



SCENE I     Elsinore. A platform before the castle.

      [FRANCISCO at his post. Enter to him BERNARDO]

BERNARDO    Who's there?

FRANCISCO   Nay, answer me: stand, and unfold yourself.

BERNARDO    Long live the king!

FRANCISCO   Bernardo?


FRANCISCO   You come most carefully upon your hour.

BERNARDO    'Tis now struck twelve; get thee to bed, Francisco.

FRANCISCO   For this relief much thanks: 'tis bitter cold,
      And I am sick at heart.

BERNARDO    Have you had quiet guard?

FRANCISCO   Not a mouse stirring.

BERNARDO    Well, good night.
      If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus,
      The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste.

FRANCISCO   I think I hear them. Stand, ho! Who's there?

      [Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS]

HORATIO     Friends to this ground.

MARCELLUS   And liegemen to the Dane.

FRANCISCO   Give you good night.

MARCELLUS   O, farewell, honest soldier:
      Who hath relieved you?

FRANCISCO   Bernardo has my place.
      Give you good night.


MARCELLUS   Holla! Bernardo!

      What, is Horatio there?

HORATIO     A piece of him.

BERNARDO    Welcome, Horatio: welcome, good Marcellus.

MARCELLUS   What, has this thing appear'd again to-night?

BERNARDO    I have seen nothing.

MARCELLUS   Horatio says 'tis but our fantasy,
      And will not let belief take hold of him
      Touching this dreaded sight, twice seen of us:
      Therefore I have entreated him along
      With us to watch the minutes of this night;
      That if again this apparition come,
      He may approve our eyes and speak to it.

HORATIO     Tush, tush, 'twill not appear.

BERNARDO    Sit down awhile;
      And let us once again assail your ears,
      That are so fortified against our story
      What we have two nights seen.

HORATIO     Well, sit we down,
      And let us hear Bernardo speak of this.

BERNARDO    Last night of all,
      When yond same star that's westward from the pole
      Had made his course to illume that part of heaven
      Where now it burns, Marcellus and myself,
      The bell then beating one,--

      [Enter Ghost]

MARCELLUS   Peace, break thee off; look, where it comes again!

BERNARDO    In the same figure, like the king that's dead.

MARCELLUS   Thou art a scholar; speak to it, Horatio.

BERNARDO    Looks it not like the king?  mark it, Horatio.

HORATIO     Most like: it harrows me with fear and wonder.

BERNARDO    It would be spoke to.

MARCELLUS   Question it, Horatio.

HORATIO     What art thou that usurp'st this time of night,
      Together with that fair and warlike form
      In which the majesty of buried Denmark
      Did sometimes march? by heaven I charge thee, speak!

MARCELLUS   It is offended.

BERNARDO                      See, it stalks away!

HORATIO     Stay! speak, speak! I charge thee, speak!

      [Exit Ghost]

MARCELLUS   'Tis gone, and will not answer.

BERNARDO    How now, Horatio! you tremble and look pale:
      Is not this something more than fantasy?
      What think you on't?

HORATIO     Before my God, I might not this believe
      Without the sensible and true avouch
      Of mine own eyes.

MARCELLUS                     Is it not like the king?

HORATIO     As thou art to thyself:
      Such was the very armour he had on
      When he the ambitious Norway combated;
      So frown'd he once, when, in an angry parle,
      He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice.
      'Tis strange.

MARCELLUS   Thus twice before, and jump at this dead hour,
      With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch.

HORATIO     In what particular thought to work I know not;
      But in the gross and scope of my opinion,
      This bodes some strange eruption to our state.

MARCELLUS   Good now, sit down, and tell me, he that knows,
      Why this same strict and most observant watch
      So nightly toils the subject of the land,
      And why such daily cast of brazen cannon,
      And foreign mart for implements of war;
      Why such impress of shipwrights, whose sore task
      Does not divide the Sunday from the week;
      What might be toward, that this sweaty haste
      Doth make the night joint-labourer with the day:
      Who is't that can inform me?

HORATIO     That can I;
      At least, the whisper goes so. Our last king,
      Whose image even but now appear'd to us,
      Was, as you know, by Fortinbras of Norway,
      Thereto prick'd on by a most emulate pride,
      Dared to the combat; in which our valiant Hamlet--
      For so this side of our known world esteem'd him--
      Did slay this Fortinbras; who by a seal'd compact,
      Well ratified by law and heraldry,
      Did forfeit, with his life, all those his lands
      Which he stood seized of, to the conqueror:
      Against the which, a moiety competent
      Was gaged by our king; which had return'd
      To the inheritance of Fortinbras,
      Had he been vanquisher; as, by the same covenant,
      And carriage of the article design'd,
      His fell to Hamlet. Now, sir, young Fortinbras,
      Of unimproved mettle hot and full,
      Hath in the skirts of Norway here and there
      Shark'd up a list of lawless resolutes,
      For food and diet, to some enterprise
      That hath a stomach in't; which is no other--
      As it doth well appear unto our state--
      But to recover of us, by strong hand
      And terms compulsatory, those foresaid lands
      So by his father lost: and this, I take it,
      Is the main motive of our preparations,
      The source of this our watch and the chief head
      Of this post-haste and romage in the land.

BERNARDO    I think it be no other but e'en so:
      Well may it sort that this portentous figure
      Comes armed through our watch; so like the king
      That was and is the question of these wars.

HORATIO     A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye.
      In the most high and palmy state of Rome,
      A little ere the mightiest Julius fell,
      The graves stood tenantless and the sheeted dead
      Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets:
      As stars with trains of fire and dews of blood,
      Disasters in the sun; and the moist star
      Upon whose influence Neptune's empire stands
      Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse:
      And even the like precurse of fierce events,
      As harbingers preceding still the fates
      And prologue to the omen coming on,
      Have heaven and earth together demonstrated
      Unto our climatures and countrymen.--
      But soft, behold! lo, where it comes again!

      [Re-enter Ghost]

      I'll cross it, though it blast me. Stay, illusion!
      If thou hast any sound, or use of voice,
      Speak to me:
      If there be any good thing to be done,
      That may to thee do ease and grace to me,
      Speak to me:

      [Cock crows]

      If thou art privy to thy country's fate,
      Which, happily, foreknowing may avoid, O, speak!
      Or if thou hast uphoarded in thy life
      Extorted treasure in the womb of earth,
      For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in death,
      Speak of it: stay, and speak! Stop it, Marcellus.

MARCELLUS   Shall I strike at it with my partisan?

HORATIO     Do, if it will not stand.

BERNARDO    'Tis here!

HORATIO     'Tis here!

MARCELLUS   'Tis gone!

      [Exit Ghost]

      We do it wrong, being so majestical,
      To offer it the show of violence;
      For it is, as the air, invulnerable,
      And our vain blows malicious mockery.

BERNARDO    It was about to speak, when the cock crew.

HORATIO     And then it started like a guilty thing
      Upon a fearful summons. I have heard,
      The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn,
      Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat
      Awake the god of day; and, at his warning,
      Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air,
      The extravagant and erring spirit hies
      To his confine: and of the truth herein
      This present object made probation.

MARCELLUS   It faded on the crowing of the cock.
      Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes
      Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated,
      The bird of dawning singeth all night long:
      And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad;
      The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike,
      No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm,
      So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.

HORATIO     So have I heard and do in part believe it.
      But, look, the morn, in russet mantle clad,
      Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastward hill:
      Break we our watch up; and by my advice,
      Let us impart what we have seen to-night
      Unto young Hamlet; for, upon my life,
      This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him.
      Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it,
      As needful in our loves, fitting our duty?

MARCELLUS   Let's do't, I pray; and I this morning know
      Where we shall find him most conveniently.




SCENE II    A room of state in the castle.

      and Attendants]

KING CLAUDIUS     Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death
      The memory be green, and that it us befitted
      To bear our hearts in grief and our whole kingdom
      To be contracted in one brow of woe,
      Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature
      That we with wisest sorrow think on him,
      Together with remembrance of ourselves.
      Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen,
      The imperial jointress to this warlike state,
      Have we, as 'twere with a defeated joy,--
      With an auspicious and a dropping eye,
      With mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage,
      In equal scale weighing delight and dole,--
      Taken to wife: nor have we herein barr'd
      Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone
      With this affair along. For all, our thanks.
      Now follows, that you know, young Fortinbras,
      Holding a weak supposal of our worth,
      Or thinking by our late dear brother's death
      Our state to be disjoint and out of frame,
      Colleagued with the dream of his advantage,
      He hath not fail'd to pester us with message,
      Importing the surrender of those lands
      Lost by his father, with all bonds of law,
      To our most valiant brother. So much for him.
      Now for ourself and for this time of meeting:
      Thus much the business is: we have here writ
      To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,--
      Who, impotent and bed-rid, scarcely hears
      Of this his nephew's purpose,--to suppress
      His further gait herein; in that the levies,
      The lists and full proportions, are all made
      Out of his subject: and we here dispatch
      You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltimand,
      For bearers of this greeting to old Norway;
      Giving to you no further personal power
      To business with the king, more than the scope
      Of these delated articles allow.
      Farewell, and let your haste commend your duty.

      |  In that and all things will we show our duty.

KING CLAUDIUS     We doubt it nothing: heartily farewell.

      [Exeunt VOLTIMAND and CORNELIUS]

      And now, Laertes, what's the news with you?
      You told us of some suit; what is't, Laertes?
      You cannot speak of reason to the Dane,
      And loose your voice: what wouldst thou beg, Laertes,
      That shall not be my offer, not thy asking?
      The head is not more native to the heart,
      The hand more instrumental to the mouth,
      Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father.
      What wouldst thou have, Laertes?

LAERTES     My dread lord,
      Your leave and favour to return to France;
      From whence though willingly I came to Denmark,
      To show my duty in your coronation,
      Yet now, I must confess, that duty done,
      My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France
      And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon.

KING CLAUDIUS     Have you your father's leave? What says Polonius?

LORD POLONIUS     He hath, my lord, wrung from me my slow leave
      By laboursome petition, and at last
      Upon his will I seal'd my hard consent:
      I do beseech you, give him leave to go.

KING CLAUDIUS     Take thy fair hour, Laertes; time be thine,
      And thy best graces spend it at thy will!
      But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son,--

HAMLET      [Aside]  A little more than kin, and less than kind.

KING CLAUDIUS     How is it that the clouds still hang on you?

HAMLET      Not so, my lord; I am too much i' the sun.

QUEEN GERTRUDE    Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off,
      And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark.
      Do not for ever with thy vailed lids
      Seek for thy noble father in the dust:
      Thou know'st 'tis common; all that lives must die,
      Passing through nature to eternity.

HAMLET      Ay, madam, it is common.

      Why seems it so particular with thee?

HAMLET      Seems, madam! nay it is; I know not 'seems.'
      'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother,
      Nor customary suits of solemn black,
      Nor windy suspiration of forced breath,
      No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,
      Nor the dejected 'havior of the visage,
      Together with all forms, moods, shapes of grief,
      That can denote me truly: these indeed seem,
      For they are actions that a man might play:
      But I have that within which passeth show;
      These but the trappings and the suits of woe.

KING CLAUDIUS     'Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, Hamlet,
      To give these mourning duties to your father:
      But, you must know, your father lost a father;
      That father lost, lost his, and the survivor bound
      In filial obligation for some term
      To do obsequious sorrow: but to persever
      In obstinate condolement is a course
      Of impious stubbornness; 'tis unmanly grief;
      It shows a will most incorrect to heaven,
      A heart unfortified, a mind impatient,
      An understanding simple and unschool'd:
      For what we know must be and is as common
      As any the most vulgar thing to sense,
      Why should we in our peevish opposition
      Take it to heart? Fie! 'tis a fault to heaven,
      A fault against the dead, a fault to nature,
      To reason most absurd: whose common theme
      Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried,
      From the first corse till he that died to-day,
      'This must be so.' We pray you, throw to earth
      This unprevailing woe, and think of us
      As of a father: for let the world take note,
      You are the most immediate to our throne;
      And with no less nobility of love
      Than that which dearest father bears his son,
      Do I impart toward you. For your intent
      In going back to school in Wittenberg,
      It is most retrograde to our desire:
      And we beseech you, bend you to remain
      Here, in the cheer and comfort of our eye,
      Our chiefest courtier, cousin, and our son.

QUEEN GERTRUDE    Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet:
      I pray thee, stay with us; go not to Wittenberg.

HAMLET      I shall in all my best obey you, madam.

KING CLAUDIUS     Why, 'tis a loving and a fair reply:
      Be as ourself in Denmark. Madam, come;
      This gentle and unforced accord of Hamlet
      Sits smiling to my heart: in grace whereof,
      No jocund health that Denmark drinks to-day,
      But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell,
      And the king's rouse the heavens all bruit again,
      Re-speaking earthly thunder. Come away.

      [Exeunt all but HAMLET]

HAMLET      O, that this too too solid flesh would melt
      Thaw and resolve itself into a dew!
      Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd
      His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! God!
      How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable,
      Seem to me all the uses of this world!
      Fie on't! ah fie! 'tis an unweeded garden,
      That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature
      Possess it merely. That it should come to this!
      But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two:
      So excellent a king; that was, to this,
      Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother
      That he might not beteem the winds of heaven
      Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth!
      Must I remember? why, she would hang on him,
      As if increase of appetite had grown
      By what it fed on: and yet, within a month--
      Let me not think on't--Frailty, thy name is woman!--
      A little month, or ere those shoes were old
      With which she follow'd my poor father's body,
      Like Niobe, all tears:--why she, even she--
      O, God! a beast, that wants discourse of reason,
      Would have mourn'd longer--married with my uncle,
      My father's brother, but no more like my father
      Than I to Hercules: within a month:
      Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears
      Had left the flushing in her galled eyes,
      She married. O, most wicked speed, to post
      With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!
      It is not nor it cannot come to good:
      But break, my heart; for I must hold my tongue.


HORATIO     Hail to your lordship!

HAMLET      I am glad to see you well:
      Horatio,--or I do forget myself.

HORATIO     The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever.

HAMLET      Sir, my good friend; I'll change that name with you:
      And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio? Marcellus?

MARCELLUS   My good lord--

HAMLET      I am very glad to see you. Good even, sir.
      But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg?

HORATIO     A truant disposition, good my lord.

HAMLET      I would not hear your enemy say so,
      Nor shall you do mine ear that violence,
      To make it truster of your own report
      Against yourself: I know you are no truant.
      But what is your affair in Elsinore?
      We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart.

HORATIO     My lord, I came to see your father's funeral.

HAMLET      I pray thee, do not mock me, fellow-student;
      I think it was to see my mother's wedding.

HORATIO     Indeed, my lord, it follow'd hard upon.

HAMLET      Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral baked meats
      Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.
      Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven
      Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio!
      My father!--methinks I see my father.

HORATIO     Where, my lord?

HAMLET                        In my mind's eye, Horatio.

HORATIO     I saw him once; he was a goodly king.

HAMLET      He was a man, take him for all in all,
      I shall not look upon his like again.

HORATIO     My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.

HAMLET      Saw? who?

HORATIO     My lord, the king your father.

HAMLET      The king my father!

HORATIO     Season your admiration for awhile
      With an attent ear, till I may deliver,
      Upon the witness of these gentlemen,
      This marvel to you.

HAMLET      For God's love, let me hear.

HORATIO     Two nights together had these gentlemen,
      Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch,
      In the dead vast and middle of the night,
      Been thus encounter'd. A figure like your father,
      Armed at point exactly, cap-a-pe,
      Appears before them, and with solemn march
      Goes slow and stately by them: thrice he walk'd
      By their oppress'd and fear-surprised eyes,
      Within his truncheon's length; whilst they, distilled
      Almost to jelly with the act of fear,
      Stand dumb and speak not to him. This to me
      In dreadful secrecy impart they did;
      And I with them the third night kept the watch;
      Where, as they had deliver'd, both in time,
      Form of the thing, each word made true and good,
      The apparition comes: I knew your father;
      These hands are not more like.

HAMLET      But where was this?

MARCELLUS   My lord, upon the platform where we watch'd.

HAMLET      Did you not speak to it?

HORATIO     My lord, I did;
      But answer made it none: yet once methought
      It lifted up its head and did address
      Itself to motion, like as it would speak;
      But even then the morning cock crew loud,
      And at the sound it shrunk in haste away,
      And vanish'd from our sight.

HAMLET      'Tis very strange.

HORATIO     As I do live, my honour'd lord, 'tis true;
      And we did think it writ down in our duty
      To let you know of it.

HAMLET      Indeed, indeed, sirs, but this troubles me.
      Hold you the watch to-night?

      |     We do, my lord.

HAMLET      Arm'd, say you?

      |  Arm'd, my lord.

HAMLET      From top to toe?

      |             My lord, from head to foot.

HAMLET      Then saw you not his face?

HORATIO     O, yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up.

HAMLET      What, look'd he frowningly?

HORATIO     A countenance more in sorrow than in anger.

HAMLET      Pale or red?

HORATIO     Nay, very pale.

HAMLET                        And fix'd his eyes upon you?

HORATIO     Most constantly.

HAMLET                        I would I had been there.

HORATIO     It would have much amazed you.

HAMLET      Very like, very like. Stay'd it long?

HORATIO     While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred.

      | Longer, longer.

HORATIO     Not when I saw't.

HAMLET                        His beard was grizzled--no?

HORATIO     It was, as I have seen it in his life,
      A sable silver'd.

HAMLET                        I will watch to-night;
      Perchance 'twill walk again.

HORATIO     I warrant it will.

HAMLET      If it assume my noble father's person,
      I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape
      And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all,
      If you have hitherto conceal'd this sight,
      Let it be tenable in your silence still;
      And whatsoever else shall hap to-night,
      Give it an understanding, but no tongue:
      I will requite your loves. So, fare you well:
      Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve,
      I'll visit you.

All                     Our duty to your honour.

HAMLET      Your loves, as mine to you: farewell.

      [Exeunt all but HAMLET]

      My father's spirit in arms! all is not well;
      I doubt some foul play: would the night were come!
      Till then sit still, my soul: foul deeds will rise,
      Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes.




SCENE III   A room in Polonius' house.

      [Enter LAERTES and OPHELIA]

LAERTES     My necessaries are embark'd: farewell:
      And, sister, as the winds give benefit
      And convoy is assistant, do not sleep,
      But let me hear from you.

OPHELIA     Do you doubt that?

LAERTES     For Hamlet and the trifling of his favour,
      Hold it a fashion and a toy in blood,
      A violet in the youth of primy nature,
      Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting,
      The perfume and suppliance of a minute; No more.

OPHELIA            No more but so?

LAERTES     Think it no more;
      For nature, crescent, does not grow alone
      In thews and bulk, but, as this temple waxes,
      The inward service of the mind and soul
      Grows wide withal. Perhaps he loves you now,
      And now no soil nor cautel doth besmirch
      The virtue of his will: but you must fear,
      His greatness weigh'd, his will is not his own;
      For he himself is subject to his birth:
      He may not, as unvalued persons do,
      Carve for himself; for on his choice depends
      The safety and health of this whole state;
      And therefore must his choice be circumscribed
      Unto the voice and yielding of that body
      Whereof he is the head. Then if he says he loves you,
      It fits your wisdom so far to believe it
      As he in his particular act and place
      May give his saying deed; which is no further
      Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal.
      Then weigh what loss your honour may sustain,
      If with too credent ear you list his songs,
      Or lose your heart, or your chaste treasure open
      To his unmaster'd importunity.
      Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister,
      And keep you in the rear of your affection,
      Out of the shot and danger of desire.
      The chariest maid is prodigal enough,
      If she unmask her beauty to the moon:
      Virtue itself 'scapes not calumnious strokes:
      The canker galls the infants of the spring,
      Too oft before their buttons be disclosed,
      And in the morn and liquid dew of youth
      Contagious blastments are most imminent.
      Be wary then; best safety lies in fear:
      Youth to itself rebels, though none else near.

OPHELIA     I shall the effect of this good lesson keep,
      As watchman to my heart. But, good my brother,
      Do not, as some ungracious pastors do,
      Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven;
      Whiles, like a puff'd and reckless libertine,
      Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads,
      And recks not his own rede.

LAERTES     O, fear me not.
      I stay too long: but here my father comes.

      [Enter POLONIUS]

      A double blessing is a double grace,
      Occasion smiles upon a second leave.

LORD POLONIUS     Yet 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 thee!
      And these few precepts in thy memory
      See thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue,
      Nor any unproportioned thought his act.
      Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar.
      Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
      Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel;
      But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
      Of each new-hatch'd, unfledged comrade. Beware
      Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in,
      Bear't that the opposed may beware of thee.
      Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice;
      Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.
      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 ownself 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.

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.


LORD POLONIUS     What is't, Ophelia, be hath said to you?

OPHELIA     So please you, something touching the Lord Hamlet.

LORD 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.

LORD 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.

LORD 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 importuned me with love
      In honourable fashion.

LORD 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.

LORD 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 somewhat 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,