Queen.
But look where, sadly, the poor wretch comes reading.

Pol.
Away, I do beseech you, both away.
I'll board him presently. [Exe. King and Queen.
Oh give me leave. How does my good lord Hamlet?

Ham.

Well, God-a-mercy.

Pol.

Do you know me, my lord?

Ham.

Excellent well; y'are a fishmonger?

Pol.

Not I, my lord.

Ham.

Then I would you were so honest a man.

Pol.

Honest, my lord?

Ham.

Ay, Sir; to be honest as this world goes, is to be one pick'd out of ten thousand.

Pol.

That's very true, my lord.

Ham.
For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog,
Being a good kissing carrion—
Have you a daughter?

Pol.

I have, my lord.

Ham.

Let her not walk i'th' sun; conception is a blessing, but not as your daughter may conceive. Friend, look to't.

Pol.
How say you by that? still harping on my daughter—
Yet he knew me not at first; he said I was a fishmonger.
He is far gone; and truly in my youth, [aside.
I suffered much extremity for love;
Very near this. I'll speak to him again.
What do you read, my lord?

Ham.

Words, words, words.

Pol.

What is the matter, my lord?

Ham.

Between whom?

Pol.

I mean the matter that you read, my lord.

Ham.

Slanders, Sir: for the satyrical slave says here, that old men have gray beards? that their faces are wrinkled; their eyes purging thick amber, and plum-tree gum; and that they have a plentiful lack of wit, together with most weak hams. All which, Sir, though I most powerfully and potently believe, yet I hold it not honesty to have it thus set down: for your self, Sir, shall be as old as-I-am, if like a crab you could go backward.

Pol.
Though this be madness, yet there's method in't:
Will you walk out of the air, my lord?

Ham.
Into my grave?

Pol.
Indeed that is out o'th' air:
How pregnant (sometimes) his replies are?
A happiness that often madness hits on,
Which sanity and reason could not be
So prosp'rously deliver'd of. I'll leave him,
And suddenly contrive the means of meeting
Between him and my daughter.
My honourable lord, I will most humbly
Take my leave of you.

Ham.

You cannot, Sir, take from me any thing, that I will more willingly part withal, except my life.

Pol.

Fare you well, my lord.

Ham.

These tedious old fools.

Pol.

You go to seek lord Hamlet; there he is.