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

A violet in the youth of prime nature,
Forward, not permanent, though sweet, not lasting;
The perfume and suppliance of a minute;

No more.

Oph. No more but so?

Laer. Think it no more:

For nature crescent, does not go 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 besmerch
The virtue of his will: but you must fear,
His greatness weighed, 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 sanctity and health of the whole state:
And therefore must his choice be circumscribed
Unto the voice and yielding of that body
Whereof he's head. Then, if he says he loves you,
It fits your wisdom so far to believe it,

As he in his peculiar 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 unmastered importunity.

Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister;
And keep within the rear of your affection,
Out of the shot and danger of desire.
The chariest muid 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.

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

Shew me the steep and thorny way to heav'n; Whilst, like a puft and careless libertine, Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads, And recks not his own reed.

Laer. Oh, fear me not.

Enter POLONIUS.

I stay too long;-but here my father comes:
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, (28) And you are staid for. There ;

My blessing with you;

[Laying his hand on Laertes' head.

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;
The friends thou hast, and their adoption try'd,
Grapple them to thy soul with hooks of steel:(29)

(28) The wind sits, &c. To conceive this rightly, the map of the moon must be placed with the north downwards, when the entire shadowed part of it will be seen to exhibit the appearance of a ship, and the central part of the moon, in light, its sails. This resemblance shall be particularly pointed out by a figure hereafter, when Hamlet goes on board, bound for England, with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.

(29) In reading the precepts of Polonius to Laertes, if the prototype of the figure of the latter in the moon be observed with attention, the peculiar application of those precepts to his character will be evident: the same indeed may be said, in regard to Ophelia, upon Polonius's remonstrance presently with her: the map is to be constantly examined, in proof of the propriety of the poet's images; for the reader will lose much of his entertainment, if he content himself with merely referring to the figures.

But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
Of each new-hatched, unfledged comrade. Beware
Of entrance to a quarrel: but, being in,
Bear't that the opposed may beware of thee.
Give every man thine 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 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.
Farewel; my blessing season this in thee!
Laer. Most humbly do I take my leave, my Lord.
Pol. The time invests you; go, your servants
tend.

Laer. Farewel, Ophelia, and remember well
What I have said.

Oph. 'Tis in my memory lock'd,

And you yourself shall keep the key of it.

Laer. Farewel.

[Exit Laer.

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

Oph. So please you, something touching the Pol. Marry, well bethought! [Lord Hamlet. '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 bounIf it be so, (as so 'tis put on me,

[teous. 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 Unsifted in such perilous circumstance. [girl, Do you believe his tenders, as you call them? Oph. I do not know, my Lord, what I should

think.

[baby, Pol. Marry, I'll teach you; think yourself a That have ta'en his tenders for true pay,

you

Which are not sterling. Tender yourself more

dearly;

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

Oph. My Lord, he hath importuned me with In honourable fashion.

[love,

Pol. Ay, fashion you may call't go to, go to. Oph. And hath given countenance to his speech, my Lord,