_Pol._ Marry, I'll teach you: think yourself a baby,[327] 105 That you have ta'en these tenders for true pay,[328] Which are not sterling. Tender yourself more dearly;[329] Or--not to crack the wind of the poor phrase, Running it thus--you'll tender me a fool.[330] _Oph._ My lord, he hath importuned me with love 110 In honourable fashion. _Pol._ Ay, fashion you may call it; go to, go to.[331] _Oph._ And hath given countenance to his speech, my lord,[332][333] With almost all the holy vows of heaven.[332][334] _Pol._ Ay, springes to catch woodcocks. I do know,[335] 115 When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul[336] Lends the tongue vows: these blazes, daughter,[337] Giving more light than heat, extinct in both,[338] Even in their promise, as it is a-making,[339] You must not take for fire. From this time[340] 120 Be something scanter of your maiden presence;[341] Set your entreatments at a higher rate[342] Than a command to parley. For Lord Hamlet,[343] Believe so much in him, that he is young, And with a larger tether may he walk[344] 125 Than may be given you: in few, Ophelia, Do not believe his vows; for they are brokers, Not of that dye which their investments show,[345] But mere implorators of unholy suits,[346] Breathing like sanctified and pious bawds,[347] 130 The better to beguile. This is for all:[348] I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth, Have you so slander any moment leisure,[349] As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet. Look to't, I charge you: come your ways.[350] 135 _Oph._ I shall obey, my lord. [_Exeunt._[351] SCENE IV. _The platform._[352] _Enter_ HAMLET, HORATIO, _and_ MARCELLUS. _Ham._ The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold.[353] _Hor._ It is a nipping and an eager air.[354] _Ham._ What hour now? _Hor._ I think it lacks of twelve. _Mar._ No, it is struck.[355] _Hor._ Indeed? I heard it not: it then draws near the season[356] 5 Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk. [_A flourish of trumpets, and ordnance shot off within._[357] What does this mean, my lord?[358] _Ham._ The king doth wake to-night and takes his rouse,[359] Keeps wassail, and the swaggering up-spring reels;[360] And as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down,[361] 10 The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out[362] The triumph of his pledge. _Hor._ Is it a custom?[363]