1 Thou dost lie in't, to be in't and say it is thine.
2 Take thy fortune, Thou find'st to be too busy is some danger.
3 I must be cruel, only to be kind: Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind.
4 So full of artless jealousy is guilt, It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.
5 Ay sir, to be honest, as this world goes, is to be one man picked out of ten thousand.
6 Once more, good night, And when you are desirous to be bles'd, I'll blessing beg of you.
7 If there be any good thing to be done, That may to thee do ease, and grace to me, Speak to me.
8 Rightly to be great Is not to stir without great argument, But greatly to find quarrel in a straw When honour's at the stake.
9 Nor do we find him forward to be sounded, But with a crafty madness keeps aloof When we would bring him on to some confession Of his true state.
10 For there be of them that will themselves laugh, to set on some quantity of barren spectators to laugh too, though in the meantime some necessary question of the play be then to be considered.
11 But, in the verity of extolment, I take him to be a soul of great article and his infusion of such dearth and rareness as, to make true diction of him, his semblable is his mirror and who else would trace him his umbrage, nothing more.
12 But such officers do the King best service in the end: he keeps them, like an ape, in the corner of his jaw; first mouthed, to be last swallowed: when he needs what you have gleaned, it is but squeezing you, and, sponge, you shall be dry again.
13 Now follows, that you know young Fortinbras, Holding a weak supposal of our worth, Or thinking by our late dear brother's death Our state to be disjoint and out of frame, Colleagued with this dream of his advantage, He hath not fail'd to pester us with message, Importing the surrender of those lands Lost by his father, with all bonds of law, To our most valiant brother.