Hamlet
Ay, sir; to be honest, as this world goes, is to be one man picked out of ten thousand.
Polonius
That’s very true, my lord.
Hamlet
For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a god kissing carrion—Have you a daughter?
Polonius
I have, my lord.
Hamlet
Let her not walk i’ the sun: conception is a blessing: but not as your daughter may conceive. Friend, look to’t.
Polonius
Aside.
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, 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, my lord?
Hamlet
Words, words, words.
Polonius
What is the matter, my lord?
Hamlet
Between who?
Polonius
I mean, the matter that you read, my lord.