Do not, as some ungracious pastors do,
Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven;
Whilst, like a puff'd and reckless' libertine,
Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads,
And recks not his own read.2
O fear me not.

Laer

I stay too long;-But here my father comes.

Enter Polonius.

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

Pol. Yet here, Laertes! aboard, aboard, for shame;

The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail,
And you are staid for: There,-my blessing with
you; [Laying his hand on Laertes' head.
And these few precepts in thy memory

Look thou character.3 Give thy thoughts no tongue,
Nor any unproportion'd thought his act.

Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar.
The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them to thy soul with hooks of steel;
But do not dull thy palm4 with entertainment
Of each new-hatch'd, unfledg'd comrade. Beware
Of entrance to a quarrel: but, being in,
Bear it that the opposer may beware of thee.
Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice:
Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judg

ment.

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 most select and generous,6 chief' in that.
Neither a borrower, nor a lender be:
For loan oft loses both itself and friend;

(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
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 season2 this in thee!
Laer. Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord.
Pol. The time invites you; go, your servants
tend.3

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,
You do not understand yourself so clearly,
As it behoves my daughter, and your honour:
What is between you? give me up the truth.
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;

(1) Economy.
(4) Untempted.

Or (not to crack the wind of the poor phrase,
Wronging it thus,) you'll tender me a fool.

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,
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 entreatments2 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 tethers may he walk,
Than may be given you: In few, Ophelia,
Do not believe his vows: for they are brokers,4
Not of that die which their investments show,
But mere implorators of unholy suits,
Breathing like sanctified and pious bonds,
The better to beguile. This is for all,-
I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth
Have you so slander any moment's leisure,
As to give words or talk with the lord Hamlet.
Look to't, I charge you; come your ways.
Oph. I shall obey, my lord.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. The platform. Enter Hamlet,
Horatio, and Marcellus.

Ham. The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold.
Hor. It is a nipping and an eager air.

(1) Manner.

(2) Company.

(3) Longer line; a horse fastened by a string to

a stake, is tethered.
(4) Pimps.

(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,
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 clepe4 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,)
By the o'ergrowth of some complexion,5
Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason;
Or by some habit, that too much o'er-leavens
The form of plausive manners;-that these men,-
Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect;
Being nature's livery, or fortune's star,—
Their virtues else (be they as pure as grace,

(1) Jovial draught. (2) Jollity. (3) A dance.
(4) Call.
(5) Humour.

As infinite as man may undergo,)

Shall, in the general censure, take corruption
From that particular fault: The dram of base
Doth all the noble substance often dout,1

To his own scandal.

Hor.

Enter Ghost.

Look, my lord, it comes!
Ham. Angels and ministers of grace defend us!→
Be thou a spirit of health, or goblin damn'd,
Bring with thee airs from heaven, or blasts from hel
Be thy intents wicked or charitable,

Thou com'st in such a questionable? shape,
That I will speak to thee; I'll call thee Hamlet,
King, father, royal Dane: O, answer me:
Let me not burst in ignorance! but tell,
Why thy canoniz'd bones, hearsed in death,
Have burst their cerements! why the sepulchre,
Wherein we saw thee quietly in-urn'd,
Hath op'd his ponderous and marble jaws,
To cast thee up again! What may this mean,
That thou, dead corse, again, in cómplete steel,
Revisit'st thus the glimpses of the moon,
Making night hideous; and we fools of nature,
So horridly to shake our disposition,3

With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls?
Say, why

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