His greatnefs weigh'd, his will is not his own;
For he himself is fubject to his birth:
He may not, as unvalued perfons do,
Carve for himself; for on his choice depends
The fafety and the health of the whole state?
And therefore must his choice be circumfcrib'd
Unto the voice and yielding of that body,
Whereof he is the head: Then if he says, he loves
It fits your wifdom fo far to believe it, [you,
As he in his particular act and place

May give his faying deed; which is no further,
Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal.
Then weigh what lofs your honour may fuftain,
If with too credent ear you lift his fongs:

Or lose your heart; or your chaste treasure open
To his unmaster'd importunity.

Fear it, Ophelia; fear it, my dear fifter;
And keep you in the rear of

your affection,
Out of the fhot and danger of defire.
The charieft maid is prodigal enough,
If the unmask her beauty to the moon :
Virtue itself 'fcapes not calumnious strokes :
The canker gauls the infants of the spring,
Too oft before their buttons be disclos'd;
And in the morn and liquid dew of youth
Contagious blaftments are most imminent.
Be wary then beft fafety lies in fear :

:

Youth to itself rebels, though none else near.
Oph. I fhall the effect of this good leffon keep,
As watchman to my heart: but, good my brother,
Do not, as fome ungracious pastors do,

Shew me the steep and thorny way to heaven;
Whilft, like a puft and reckless libertine,
Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads,

And

And recks not his own read.

Laer. O, fear me not.

I ftay too long; but here my father comes.

Enter POLONIUS.

A double bleffing is a double grace;
Occafion fmiles upon a fecond leave.

Pol. Yet here, Laertes! aboard, aboard, for The wind fits in the fhoulder of your fail, [fhame And you are staid for: There, my bleflings with you [Laying his band on LAERTES' 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.
The friends thou hast, and their adoption try'd,
Grapple them to thy foul with hoops of fteel;
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 it that the oppofer may beware of thee.
Give every 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 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 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:

Farewell; my bleffing feafon this in thee!

Laer. Moft humbly do I take my leave, my lord. Pol. The time invites you; go, your fervants tend. Laer. Farewell, Ophelia; and remember well What I have faid to you.

Oph. 'Tis in my memory lock'd,

And you yourself fhall keep the key of it.

Laer. Farewell.

[Exit LAERTES.

Pol. What is't, Ophelia, he hath faid to you? Oph. So please you, fomething touching the lord Pol. Marry, well bethought:

'Tis told me he hath very oft of late

[Hamlet.

Given private time to you: and you yourself
Have of your audience been most free and bounteous;
If it be fo (as fo 'tis put on me,

And that in the way of caution), I must tell you,
You do not understand yourfelf fo 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, Unfifted in fuch 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 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 Wronging it thus), you'll tender me a fool.

Oph. My lord, he hath importun'd me with love, In honourable fashion.

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

to.

Oph.

Oph. And hath given countenance to his speech, my lord.

With almost all the holy vows of heaven.

Pol. Ay, fprings to catch woodcocks. I do know, When the blood burns, how prodigal the foul Lends the tongue vows; Thefe 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 fomewhat scanter of your maiden presence; Set your entreatments at a higher rate, Than a command to parley. For lord Hamlet, Believe fo 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 fhew, But mere implorators of unholy fuits, Breathing like fanctified and pious bonds, The better to beguile. This is for all,I would not in plain terms from this time forth, Have you fo flander any moment's leifure, As to give words or talk with the lord Hamlet. Look to't, I charge you; come your ways. Opb. I fhall obey, my lord.

SCENE IV. The platform.

[Exeunt.

Enter HAMLET, HORATIO, and Marcellus. Ham. The air bites fhrewdly; it is very cold. Hor. It is a nipping and an eager air.

Ham. What hour now?

Hor. I think it lacks of twelve.

Mar. No, it has ftruck.

Hor.

Hor. Indeed! I heard it not; it then draws near

the season,

Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk.

[Noife of mufic within.

What does this mean, my lord?

Ham. The king doth wake to night, and takes his roufe,

Keeps waffel, and the fwaggering up-spring reels;
And, as he drains his draught of Rhenish down,
The kettle drum and trumpets thus bray out
The triumph of his pledge.

Hor. Is it a custom?

Ham. Ay, marry, is't;

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 obfervance,
This heavy-headed revil, eaft and weft,

Makes us traduc'd and tax'd of other nations:
They clepe us drunkards, and with swinish phrase
Soil our addition; and indeed, it takes

From our achievements, tho' perform'd at height,
The pith and marrow of our attribute.
So oft it chances, in particular men,

That for fome vicious mole of nature in them,
As in their birth (wherein they are not guilty,
Since nature cannot chufe his origin),

By the o'ergrowth of fome complexion,
Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason;
Or by fome habit that too much o'erleavens
The form of plaufive manners;-that these men,-
Carrying, I fay, the stamp of one defect;
Being nature's livery, or fortune's star,
Their virtues else (be they as pure as grace,
As infinite as man may undergo)

Shall