Ophelia. For out o'doors he went without their helps,
And to the last bended their light on me.
Polonius. Come, go with me, I will go seek the King.
This is the very ecstasy of love,
Whose vilonent property fordoes itself
And leads the will to desperate undertakings
As oft as any passion under heaven
That does afflict our natures. I am sorry -
What have you given him any hard words of late?
Ophelia. No, my good lord, but as you did command,
I did repel his letters and denied
His access to me.
Polonius. That hath made him mad.