Mar. and Ber. Ham. Arm'd, say you? We do, my lord. Mar. and Ber. Arm'd, my lord. Mar. and Ber. My lord, from head to foot. Ham. Then saw you not his face? Hor. O yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up. Ham. What, look'd he frowningly? Hor. A countenance more in sorrow than in anger. Hor. Most constantly. And fix'd his eyes upon you? I would I had been there. Hor. It would have much amaz'd you. Ham. Very like, very like. Stay'd it long? Hor. While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred. Mar, and Ber. Longer, longer. Hor. Not when I saw't. Ham. His beard was grizzled,—no? Hor. It was, as I have seen it in his life, A sable silver'd. Ham. I will watch to-night; Perchance 'twill walk again. Hor. I warrant it will. Our duty to your honour. All. [Exeunt HOR., MAR., and BER. 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. [Exit. SCENE III.-A Room in POLONIUS's House. Enter LAERTES and OPHELIA. Laer. My necessaries are embark'd: farewell: Oph. Do you doubt that? A violet in the youth of primy nature, Oph. No more but so? Think it no more: For nature, crescent, does not grow alone Grows wide withal. Perhaps he loves you now; Carve for himself; for on his choice depends And therefore must his choice be circumscrib'd 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 Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister; Too oft before their buttons be disclos'd; Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven; Laer. 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. Pol. 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 you! [Laying his hand on LAERTES's head. And these few precepts in thy memory See thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue, Bear't that the opposed may beware of thee. Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment. 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. Laer. Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord. Oph. 'Tis in my memory lock'd, And you yourself shall keep the key of it. Laer. Farewell. Pol. What is't, Ophelia, he hath said to you? [Exit. 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 bounteous: If it be so,-as so 'tis put on me, And that in way of caution,-I must tell you, As it behoves my daughter and your honour. Oph. He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders Pol. Affection! pooh! 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. Oph. My lord, he hath impórtun'd me with love 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 Do not believe his vows; for they are brokers,— I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth, As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-The Platform. Enter HAMLET, HORATIO, and MARCELLUS. Ham. What hour now? Mar. No, it is struck. I think it lacks of twelve. Hor. Indeed? I heard it not: then it 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, Keeps wassail, and the swaggering up-spring 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 clepe us drunkards, and with swinish phrase Soil our addition; and, indeed, it takes From our achievements, though perform'd at height, So oft it chances in particular men That, for some vicious mole of nature in them, By the o'ergrowth of some complexion, |