Farewell, Ophelia; and remember well What I have said to you.

’Tis in my memory lock’d, And you yourself shall keep the key of it.

Marry, well bethought: ’Tis told me, he hath very oft of late Given private time to you; and you yourself Have of your audience been most free and bounteous: If it be so, as so ’tis put on me, And that in way of caution, I must tell you, You do not understand yourself so clearly As it behoves my daughter and your honour. What is between you? give me up the truth.

He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders Of his affection to me.

Affection! pooh! you speak like a green girl, Unsifted in such perilous circumstance. Do you believe his tenders, as you call them?