LAERTES.
My necessaries are embarked, farewell.
And, sister, as the winds permit
And convoy is assistant, do not sleep,
But let me hear from you

OPHELIA.
Do not doubt that.

LAERTES.
For Hamlet and the trifling of his favor,
Hold it a fashion and a toy in blood,
A violet in the youth and prime of nature,
Forward, not permanent, tho' sweet, not lasting,
The perfume of a minute.

OPHELIA.
No more but so?

LAERTES.
Think it no more.
’For nature crescent does not grow alone
’In thews and bulk, but as this temple waxes,
’The inward service of the mind and soul
’Grows wide withal. Perhaps he loves thee now,
’And now no soil nor cautel doth besmirch
’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 inferior persons do,
Carve for himself; for on his choice depends
The sanctity and health of this whole state.
’And therefore must his choice be circumscribed
’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 peculiar act and place
’May give this saying deed, which is no further
’Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal.’
Then weigh what loss your honor may sustain,
If with your credulous ear you hear his passion,
’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 maid is prodigal enough
If she unmask her beauty to the moon:
’Virtue itself scapes not calumnious strokes:
’The canker galls the infant of the spring
’Too oft before the 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.’

OPHELIA.
I shall the effect of this good lesson keep
About my heart. But, good brother,
Do not, as some ungracious pastors do,
Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven;
Whilst, like a libertine,
Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads
’And reaks not his own reed.’

LAERTES.
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.’

POLONIUS.
Yet here, Laertes? Aboard, aboard, for shame!
Though late, very late, the moon is up
And in full beauty lights you to your vessel.
’The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail,
’And you are stayed for there. My blessing with you,
’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 tried,
’Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel;
’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 th' opposer may beware of thee.
’Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice;
’Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.

’Farewell, my blessing season this in thee!’

LAERTES.
Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord.

POLONIUS.
The time invites you; go; your servants tend.

LAERTES.
Farewell, Ophelia, and remember well
What I have said to you.

OPHELIA.
'Tis in my memory lock'd,
And you yourself shall keep the key of it.

LAERTES.
Farewell. Exit Laertes.

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

OPHELIA.
So please you, something touching the Lord Hamlet.

POLONIUS.
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 it seems to be,
And that in way of caution—I must tell you
You do not understand yourself so clearly
As it behooves my daughter and your honor.
What is between you? Give me up the truth.

OPHELIA.
He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders
Of his affection to me.

POLONIUS.
Affection! Pooh! You speak like a green girl,
Unsifted in such perilous circumstance.
Do you believe his tenders, as he calls them?

OPHELIA.
I do not know, my lord, what I should think.

POLONIUS.
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 this poor phrase,
’Wringing it thus)’ you'll tender me a fool.

OPHELIA.
My lord, he hath importuned me with love
In honorable fashion.

POLONIUS.
Ay, fashion you may call it: go to, go to.

OPHELIA.
And hath given countenance to his speech, my lord,
With almost all the holy vows of heaven.

POLONIUS.
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, daughter,
’Be somewhat scanter of your maiden presence.
’Set your entreatments 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 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 investment show,
’But mere implorers of unholy suits,
’Breathing like sanctified and pious bawds,
’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 way.

OPHELIA.
I shall obey, my lord. Exeunt.

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