Pol. What is the matter, my Lord?
Ham. Betweene who?
Pol. I meane the matter you meane, my Lord
Ham. Slanders Sir: for the Satyricall slaue saies here, that old men haue gray Beards; that their faces are wrinkled; their eyes purging thicke Amber, or Plum-Tree Gumme: and that they haue a plentifull locke of Wit, together with weake Hammes. All which Sir, though I most powerfully, and potently beleeue; yet I holde it not Honestie to haue it thus set downe: For you your selfe Sir, should be old as I am, if like a Crab you could go backward
Pol. Though this be madnesse,
Yet there is Method in't: will you walke
Out of the ayre my Lord?
Ham. Into my Graue?
Pol. Indeed that is out o'th' Ayre:
How pregnant (sometimes) his Replies are?
A happinesse,
That often Madnesse hits on,
Which Reason and Sanitie could not
So prosperously be deliuer'd of.
I will leaue him,
And sodainely contriue the meanes of meeting
Betweene him, and my daughter.
My Honourable Lord, I will most humbly
Take my leaue of you
Ham. You cannot Sir take from me any thing, that I will more willingly part withall, except my life, my life
Polon. Fare you well my Lord
Ham. These tedious old fooles
Polon. You goe to seeke my Lord Hamlet; there
hee is.
Enter Rosincran and Guildensterne.
Rosin. God saue you Sir
Guild. Mine honour'd Lord?
Rosin. My most deare Lord?
Ham. My excellent good friends? How do'st thou
Guildensterne? Oh, Rosincrane; good Lads: How doe ye
both?
Rosin. As the indifferent Children of the earth
Guild. Happy, in that we are not ouer-happy: on Fortunes
Cap, we are not the very Button