Polonius. I'll board him presnetly. Oh, give me leave.
[Exeunt King and Queen and Attendants]
How does my Good Lord Hamlet?
Hamlet. Well, God-a-mercy.
Polonius. Do you know me, my lord?
Hamlet. Excellent well. You are a fishmonger.
Polonius. Not I, my lord.
Hamlet. Then I would you were so honest a man.
Polonius. Honest, my lord?
Hamlet. Ay sir. To be honest, as this world goes, is to be one
man picked out of ten thousand.
Polonius. That's very true, my lord.
Hamlet. For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a
good kissing carrion - Have you a daughter?
Polonius. I have, my lord.
Hamlet. Let her not walk i'th'sun. Conception is a blessing,
but as your daughter may conceive - friend, look to't
Polonius. What is the matter, my lord?
Hamlet. Between who?
Polonius. I mean the matter that you read, my lord.
Hamlet. Slanders, sir. For the satirical rogue says here that
old men have grey beards, that their faces are wrinkled, their
eyes purging thick amber and plumtree gum, and that they
have a plentiful lack of wit, together with most weak
hams - all which, sir, though I most powerfully potently
believe, yet I hold it not honest to have it thus set down.
For you yourself, sir, shall grow old as I am - if like a crab
you could go backward.
Polonius. [aside] Though this be madness, yet there is method
in't. Will you walk out of the air, my lord?
Hamlet. Into my grave?
Polonius. Indeed, that's out of the air. [aside] How pregnant
somtimes his replies are - a happiness that often madness
hits on, which reason and sanity could not so prosperously
be delivered of. I will leave him and my daughter. My lord, I
will take my leave of you.
Hamlet. You cannot, sirt, take from me anything that I will
not more willingly part withal - except my life, except my
life, except my life.