Orl.—Pardon me, dear Rosalind.
Ros.—Nay, and you be so tardy, come no more in my sight: I had as lief be wooed of a snail.
Orl.—Of a snail!
Ros.—Ay, of a snail; for though he comes slowly, he carries his house on his head; a better jointure, I think, than you make a woman.
In Polonius we meet with a character in direct contrast to those we have mentioned. The old gentleman, like many of the present day, loves to hear himself talk, and, owing to his high political position, has probably become so accustomed to receiving the applause of fawning courtiers, that the habit of punning has become a second nature to him; even after receiving the gentle reprimand of his Queen, it still is impossible for him to abstain from them, as is instanced in the conversation on the cause of Hamlet’s peculiarities.
Pol.—My liege and madam, to expostulate
What majesty should be, what duty is,
Why day is day, night night, and time is time,
Were nothing but to waste night, day and time.
Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit,