Hamlet 2.2 Fishmonger Scene

How does my good Lord Hamlet? Well, God a mercy.
Do you know me, my lord? Excellent, sir. You are a fishmonger.
Not I, my lord. Then I would you were so honest a man.
Honest, my lord? Ay sir. To be honest as this world goes is to be one man picked out of ten thousand.
That’s very true, my lord. For if the sun breed maggots in a deaddog, being a good kissing carrion—Have you adaughter?
I have, my lord. Let her not walk i’ th’ sun. Conception is ablessing, but, as your daughter may conceive,friend, look to ‘t.
How say you by that? Still harping on my daughter. Yet he knew me not at first; he said I was a fishmonger. He is far gone. And truly, in my youth, I suffered much extremity for love, very near this. I’ll speak to him again.—What do you read, mylord? Words, words, words.
What is the matter, my lord? Between who?
I mean the matter that you read, my lord. Slanders, sir; for the satirical rogue says here that old men have gray beards, that their faces are wrinkled, their eyes purging thick amber and plum-tree gum, and that they have a plentiful lack of wit, together with most weak hams; all which, sir, though I most powerfully and potently believe, yet I hold it not honesty to have it thus set down; for yourself, sir, shall grow old as I am, if, like a crab, you could go backward.
Though this be madness, yet there is method in ‘t.—Will you walk out of the air, my lord? Into my grave?
Indeed, that’s out of the air. How pregnant sometimes his replies are! A happinessthat often madness hits on, which reason and sanity could not so prosperously be delivered of. I will leave him and suddenly contrive the means of meeting between him and my daughter.—My lord, I will take my leave of you. You cannot, sir, take from me anything that Iwill more willingly part withal—except my life,except my life, except my life
Fare you well, my lord. These tedious old fools

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