Hor. Oh yes, my lord, he wore his beaver up.
Ham. What, look'd he frowningly?

Hor. A count'nance more in forrow than in anger.
Ham. Pale, or red?

Hor. Nay, very pale.

Ham. And fixt his eyes upon you?

Hor. Most constantly.

Ham. I would I had been there.

Hor. It would have much amaz❜d you.

Ham. Very like; ftaid it long?

Hor. While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred.

All. Longer, longer.

Hor. Not when I faw't.

Ham. His beard was grifly?

Hor. It was, as I have seen it in his life,

A fable-filver'd.

Ham. I'll watch to-night; perchance 'twill walk again.

Hor. I warrant you it will,

Ham. If it affume my noble father's person,

I'll speak to it, tho' hell it self should gape
And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all,
If you have hitherto conceal❜d this fight;
Let it be treble in your filence ftill:

d

And whatsoever shall befall to-night,
Give it an understanding, but no tongue;
I will requite your loves: fo, fare ye well.

tenable:

Upon

Upon the platform 'twixt eleven and twelve
I'll vifit you.

All. Our duty to your honour.

Ham. Your love, as mine to you: farewel.

My father's spirit in arms! all is not well;

I doubt fome foul play: would the night were come;
'Till then fit ftill, my foul: foul deeds will rife,
(Tho' all the earth o'erwhelm them) to mens eyes.

Laer.

SCENE

V.

An Apartment in Polonius's house.
Enter Laertes and Ophelia.

Y neceffaries are imbark'd, farewel;

MY

And fifter, as the winds give benefit,

And convoy is affiftant; do not fleep,

But let me hear from you.

Oph. Do you doubt that?

Laer. For Hamlet, and the trifling of his favours, Hold it a fashion and a toy in blood,

A violet in the youth of primy nature,

Forward, not permanent, tho' sweet, not lasting,
The perfume, and fuppliance of a minute ;

No more.

Oph. No more but so?

Laer. Think it no more:

For nature crescent does not grow alone,
In tthews and bulk; but as his temple waxes,
The inward fervice of the mind and foul
Grows wide withal. Perhaps he loves you now,
And now nof foil nor cautel doth besmerch
The virtue of his will: but you must fear

[Exeunt.

[Exit.

• The fuppliance of a minute. tthews, or qualities.

ffoil.

fear.

His greatness weigh'd, his will is not his own:
For he himself is fubject to his birth;
He may not, as unvalued persons do,
Carve for himself; for on his choice depends
The fanctity and health of the whole state.
And therefore muft his choice be circumfcrib'd
Unto the voice and yielding of that body
Whereof he's head. Then if he says he loves you,
It fits your wisdom fo far to believe it,
As he in his peculiar act and place

h

May give his saying deed; which is no further,
Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal.
Then weigh what lofs your honour may sustain,
If with too credent ear you lift his fongs,
Or lose your heart; or your chafte treasure open
To his unmaster'd importunity.

Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister,
And keep within the rear of your affection,
Out of the shot and danger of defire.
The chariest maid is prodigal enough,
If she unmask her beauty to the moon :
Virtue it self scapes not calumnious strokes,
The canker galls the infants of the spring,
Too oft before their buttons be disclos'd;
And in the morn and liquid dew of youth
Contagious blastments are most imminent.
Be wary then, best safety lies in fear;
Youth to it felf rebels, though none else near.

Oph I fhall th' effects of this good lesson keep,
As watchman to my heart. But good my brother,
Do not, as fome ungracious paftors do,

Shew me the steep and thorny way to heav'n;

Whilft like a puft and careless libertine,

VOL. VI.

62 and force.

Zz

Him

6

Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads,

† And recks not his own reed.

Laer. Oh, fear me not.

SCENE VI

Enter Polonius.

I stay too long; -- but here my father comes:
A double blessing is a double grace;

Occafion fmiles upon a fecond leave.

Pol. Yet here, Laertes! get aboard for fhame, The wind fits in the fhoulder of your fail,

And you are staid for there. My bleffing with you; And these few precepts in thy memory

See thou character. "Give thy thoughts no tongue, Nor any unproportion'd thought his act:

Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar;

The friends thou haft, and their adoption try'd,
Grapple them to thy foul with hooks 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' oppofed may beware of thee. 'Give ev'ry man thine ear; but few thy voice.

Take each man's cenfure; but reserve thy judgment.

Coftly thy habit as thy purse can buy,

But not exprest in fancy; rich, not gaudy:

For the apparel oft proclaims the man,

And they in France of the beft rank and station
Are most select and generous, chief in that.
Neither a borrower, nor a lender be;

For loan oft lofes both it felf and friend:

A borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.

trecks not his own reed, that is, heeds not his own leffons.

This above all; to thine own felf be true;
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Farewel; my blessing season this in thee!

Laer. Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord.
Pol. The time invites you, go, your servants tend.
Laer. Farewel Ophelia, and remember well
What I have faid.

Oph. 'Tis in my mem'ry lockt,

And you your self shall keep the key of it.

Laer. Farewel.

Pol. What is't, Ophelia, he said to you?

[Exit Laer.

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 your self

Have of audience been moft free and bounteous.

your

If it be fo, as fo 'tis put on me,

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

You do not understand your self so clearly,
As it behoves my daughter, and honour.

your

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,

Unfifted in such perilous circumftance.

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 your self a baby,
That you have ta'en his tenders for true pay,

Which are not sterling. Tender your self more dearly;
Or (not to crack the wind of the poor phrase,)

Wronging it thus, you'll tender me a fool.

Z z 2

Oph.