s
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.

Besides its intrinsic loveliness, the character of Ophelia has a
relative beauty and delicacy when considered in relation to that of
Hamlet, which is the delineation of a man of genius in contest with the
powers of this world. The weakness of volition, the instability of
purpose, the contemplative sensibility, the subtlety of thought, always
shrinking from action, and always occupied in "thinking too precisely on
the event," united to immense intellectual power, render him unspeakably
interesting: and yet I doubt whether any woman, who would have been
capable of understanding and appreciating such a man, would have
passionately loved him. Let us for a moment imagine any one of
Shakspeare's most beautiful and striking female characters in immediate
connection with Hamlet. The gentle Desdemona would never have despatched
her household cares in haste, to listen to his philosophical
speculations, his dark conflicts with his own spirit. Such a woman as
Portia would have studied him; Juliet would have pitied him; Rosalind
would have turned him over with a smile to the melancholy Jacques;
Beatrice would have laughed at him outright; Isabel would have reasoned