Hamlet deals largely in simile and metaphor; no finer instance occurring than in the passage where he is called upon to account for the body of Polonius. Rosencranz, repelling his insinuations, asks:
Ros.—Take you me for a sponge, my lord?
Ham.—Ay, sir, that soaks up the king’s countenance, his rewards, his authorities. But such officers do the king best service in the end: he keeps them like an ape, in the corner of his jaw; first mouthed, to be last swallowed: when he needs what you have gleaned, it is but squeezing you, and, sponge, you shall be dry again.
With a feeling of relief we turn to merry, heart-whole Beatrice, and we glory in the ease with which she puts to rout the valiant soldier Benedick. With what exquisite nonchalance she remarks:
Beat.—I wonder that you will still be talking, Signor Benedick, nobody marks you.
She throws down the gauntlet of defiance to Cupid in the words:
Beat.—I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow, than a man swear he loves me.
And she retains her woman’s right to the last word in her parting shot:
Beat.—You always end with a jade’s trick. I know you of old.
Her merry derision of Don Pedro is shown in her reply to his gallant offer: