When her father, immediately afterwards, catechizes her on the same subject, he extorts from her, in short sentences, uttered with bashful reluctance, the confession of Hamlet's love for her, but not a word of her love for him. The whole scene is managed with inexpressible delicacy: it is one of those instances, common in Shakspeare, in which we are allowed to perceive what is passing in the mind of a person, without any consciousness on their part. Only Ophelia herself is unaware that while she is admitting the extent of Hamlet's courtship, she is also betraying how deep is the impression it has made, how entire the love with which it is returned. POLONIUS. 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! poh! you speak like a green girl, Unsifted in such perilous circumstances. Do you believe his tenders, as you call 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 taken these tenders for true pay Which are not sterling. Tender yourself more dearly Or (not to crack the wind of the poor phrase, Wronging it thus) you'll tender me a fool. OPHELIA. My lord, he hath importun'd 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. This is for all: 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 ways. OPHELIA. I shall obey, my lord.