Polonius
Look, whether he has not turned his colour and has tears in’s eyes. Pray you, no more.
Hamlet
’Tis well; I’ll have thee speak out the rest soon. Good my lord, will you see the players well bestowed? Do you hear, let them be well used; for they are the abstract and brief chronicles of the time: after your death you were better have a bad epitaph than their ill report while you live.
Polonius
My lord, I will use them according to their desert.
Hamlet
God’s bodykins, man, much better: use every man after his desert, and who should ’scape whipping? Use them after your own honour and dignity: the less they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty. Take them in.
Polonius
Come, sirs.