In this scene he is a concerned brother, not yet the man of action he becomes after his father's death. His advice is not cruel — it is the advice of someone who knows how courts work. But he is also young enough to romanticize his own warnings: 'the canker galls the infants of the spring / Too oft before their buttons be disclosed.' He speaks in elaborate metaphors when he's anxious.
My necessaries are embark’d. Farewell.
And, sister, as the winds give benefit
And convoy is assistant, do not sleep,
But let me hear from you.
My things are packed. Goodbye, sister. As soon as the winds favor your travels, don't sleep — write to me.
I'm leaving. Ophelia, write to me as soon as you can.
i'm going write to me please
Her first substantial speech in the play is a defense of Hamlet that is also completely accurate: 'He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders / Of his affection to me.' She reports facts. She doesn't exaggerate. When she pushes back — 'I do not know, my lord, what I should think' — Polonius fills the silence with his own interpretation. Ophelia's tragedy begins here, in a scene where her intelligence and judgment are repeatedly overridden.
Do you doubt that?
Do you doubt it?
Of course I will.
of course
For Hamlet, and the trifling of his favour,
Hold it a fashion and a toy in blood;
A violet in the youth of primy nature,
Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting;
The perfume and suppliance of a minute;
No more.
As for Hamlet and his attention to you — don't take it seriously. It's a passing fancy, a momentary impulse. Like a flower in spring — beautiful now, but it will fade. It's sweet for a minute, then nothing. No more.
Don't trust Hamlet's affection. It's just a passing thing. He's young, he's interested now, but it won't last. It's just a moment.
hamlet just a phase won't last don't trust it flower in spring beautiful then gone
No more but so?
No more than that?
That's all?
just that
Think it no more.
For nature crescent does not grow alone
In thews and bulk; but as this temple waxes,
The inward service of the mind and soul
Grows wide withal. Perhaps he loves you now,
And now no soil nor cautel doth besmirch
The virtue of his will; but you must fear,
His greatness weigh’d, his will is not his own;
For he himself is subject to his birth:
He may not, as unvalu’d persons do,
Carve for himself; for on his choice depends
The sanctity and health of this whole state;
And therefore must his choice be circumscrib’d
Unto the voice and yielding of that body
Whereof he is the head. Then if he says he loves you,
It fits your wisdom so far to believe it
As he in his particular act and place
May give his saying deed; which is no further
Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal.
Then weigh what loss your honour may sustain
If with too credent ear you list his songs,
Or lose your heart, or your chaste treasure open
To his unmaster’d importunity.
Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister;
And keep you in the rear of your affection,
Out of the shot and danger of desire.
The chariest maid is prodigal enough
If she unmask her beauty to the moon.
Virtue itself ’scapes not calumnious strokes:
The canker galls the infants of the spring
Too oft before their buttons be disclos’d,
And in the morn and liquid dew of youth
Contagious blastments are most imminent.
Be wary then, best safety lies in fear.
Youth to itself rebels, though none else near.
Forget about it. A man's body grows, but so does his mind and character. Maybe Hamlet loves you now, and maybe his intentions are good. But you must understand: he's a prince. His choice isn't his own — it belongs to the state. He can't marry as he pleases; Denmark depends on his marriage. His feelings may be genuine, but only his publicly approved actions matter. So think carefully about what you risk if you believe his words too eagerly, lose your heart, or give your virginity to his uncontrolled desires. Fear this, Ophelia — protect yourself. The most careful woman is foolish if she reveals herself to the world. Even pure virtue can be damaged by rumor. Young things are vulnerable — their reputation can be destroyed before they even open fully. You're young, and you need to be very careful. Young girls naturally rebel against caution, but you must. Be cautious.
Think about it: he's a prince. His marriage isn't his choice — it's the state's choice. So even if he loves you now, he might not be able to marry you. His public actions are all that matter. So if you let him sweet-talk you or seduce you, what happens to your reputation? To your honor? Be scared, Ophelia. The most virtuous girl looks foolish if people know she's with a man. Even pure women get damaged by rumors. Young girls especially — their reputation can be ruined before they know what's happening. You need to protect yourself. Be careful.
he's a prince his marriage isn't his choice he can't marry you even if he wants to protect yourself be careful your reputation matters
I shall th’effect of this good lesson keep
As watchman to my heart. But good my brother,
Do not as some ungracious pastors do,
Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven;
Whilst like a puff’d and reckless libertine
Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads,
And recks not his own rede.
I'll remember your advice — it will guard my heart. But brother, don't be like those priests who tell people to be good while they themselves do wrong. Don't preach virtue while you chase pleasure.
I'll remember this. But you — don't be like those hypocrite priests who tell people to be good while they're doing bad things themselves.
i'll remember but you don't be hypocrite don't preach virtue while you sin
O, fear me not.
I stay too long. But here my father comes.
Don't worry — I won't. I have to go. But here comes our father.
I won't. I'm late. Here comes Father.
don't worry i'm late father's here
The paradox of Polonius is that his advice to Laertes is not stupid. Most of it is genuinely good practical counsel for a young man at a foreign court: don't talk too much, choose your battles, dress appropriately, don't lend money to people whose friendship you value. These are the lessons of experience, and Polonius clearly has experience.
But the advice adds up to something revealing: it is entirely about managing surface. Give thy thoughts no tongue — don't let people know what you're thinking. Rich, not gaudy — control how you appear. Beware of entrance to a quarrel — pick fights strategically. This is the philosophy of a man who has survived at court by never being entirely transparent, by always managing perception.
'To thine own self be true' arrives at the end as if it crowns the list with something deeper — and in isolation, it does. But the 'self' Polonius has been describing all speech is a self that keeps secrets, manages impressions, and avoids costly entanglements. It is not Hamlet's self, or Horatio's, or anyone's self that asks hard questions. It is the self of a competent political operator.
The audience knows this because within hours of giving this speech, Polonius will be eavesdropping behind a curtain, using his own daughter as bait to expose Hamlet, and generally doing everything he told Laertes not to do. He gave good advice. He doesn't follow it.
His advice to Laertes is his famous set-piece and it's worth analyzing the gap between its rhetoric and its content: the maxims are polished and quotable but add up to a philosophy of guarded self-interest — 'to thine own self be true' arrives as the climax but follows advice about keeping secrets, not lending money, and not getting too close to anyone. Watch how completely his tone shifts when he addresses Ophelia: the warmth evaporates. She is property to be managed.
Yet here, Laertes? Aboard, aboard, for shame.
The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail,
And you are stay’d for. There, my blessing with you.
Laertes! You're still here? Get on the ship — the wind is right, you're expected. Take my blessing.
Why are you still here? Get on the boat — the wind is perfect and they're waiting for you.
go get on the ship wind is right
Ophelia's reputation as a passive victim of circumstance begins in this scene, but it is worth looking carefully at what she actually does in it. She returns Laertes's warning about the primrose path — precisely, warmly, and effectively. She answers Polonius's interrogation factually and without dramatization: Hamlet has expressed his love honorably, with vows. She admits honest uncertainty: 'I do not know, my lord, what I should think.'
None of this passivity. This is a young woman reporting accurately, maintaining her position under pressure, and acknowledging what she genuinely doesn't know. The problem is that the men around her don't engage with her intelligence — they override it.
Laertes doesn't ask what she knows about Hamlet; he tells her what to think. Polonius doesn't investigate her report; he dismisses it as the delusion of a 'green girl.' When she says she doesn't know what to think, he doesn't help her think — he instructs her. By the end of the scene, she has been told what to feel, what Hamlet means, and what to do about it.
Her 'I shall obey, my lord' is not proof of weakness. It is the trained response of a daughter who has never been given the option of another answer. The intelligence we see in the first half of this scene will go underground and emerge grotesquely in her madness — singing, flowers, fragments — when the structures that required her obedience have collapsed.
Laertes appears in this scene as a concerned, affectionate brother — not yet the avenger he becomes. But even here, his contrast with Hamlet is being established.
Laertes wants to go to France and his father lets him. Hamlet wants to go to Wittenberg and is told to stay. Laertes asks directly; Claudius grants it directly; the whole exchange takes eight lines. Hamlet makes no formal request and is told no before he can ask. Laertes moves through the court efficiently; Hamlet is stuck in it.
More importantly: Laertes acts. In this scene he gives advice; he leaves; he gets on the boat. When his father is killed in Act 4, he returns immediately and raises a mob. He is, from first appearance, a man of action — not because he's simple, but because he doesn't have Hamlet's particular problem, which is that thinking and doing are the same activity for him.
Shakespeare uses Laertes to show what Hamlet could be if he were different. Not better — Laertes's revenge will be treacherous, will require poisoned swords and cheating, and will kill the innocent. But it will happen. The man of action will succeed at revenge where the man of thought cannot.
Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord.
Affection! That's ridiculous. You talk like a naive young girl, uneducated in such dangerous matters. Do you really believe his declarations of affection?
Affection? That's nonsense. You're too innocent. Do you actually believe him?
affection nonse you're naive don't believe him
The time invites you; go, your servants tend.
I don't know what to think, Father.
I don't know what to believe.
i don't know
Farewell, Ophelia, and remember well
What I have said to you.
I'll teach you: think of yourself as a baby. These 'declarations' of his aren't real gold — they're fake. Value yourself more highly. Either that, or I'll make a fool of both of us.
Listen: his words are worthless. You shouldn't take them seriously. Respect yourself. Otherwise I'm just a fool raising a fool.
his words fake not real value yourself respect yourself
’Tis in my memory lock’d,
And you yourself shall keep the key of it.
But Father, he's been expressing his love honorably.
But he's been respectful about it.
it's honorable he's respectful
Farewell.
Honorably? That's what you want to call it. All right then.
Honorably? That's just what he wants you to think.
honorably sure
What is’t, Ophelia, he hath said to you?
Holy vows? That's just a trap — like a snare for foolish birds. I know: when desire is hot, the soul will promise anything. These vows are bright but not warm — they burn out before they're even made. You mustn't take them for real fire. From now on, be less available to him. Make yourself harder to get. Hamlet is a prince — he's young and can do as he pleases, while you cannot. I warn you, Ophelia: don't believe his vows. They're not true declarations of love — they're tricks to seduce you. They use the language of holiness to hide their unholy purpose. This is my final word: I forbid you to spend time with Hamlet or speak to him. I'm charging you with this. Come, let's go.
Holy vows? Those are just tricks to catch you like a bird in a snare. When young men want something, they swear anything. They say these vows burn bright, but they're just flash — no real fire. Don't fall for it. From now on, don't be alone with him. Make it harder for him. He's a prince — he can do what he wants. You can't. So don't believe his promises. They're just seduction disguised as love. I'm forbidding you to see him or talk to him. Do it.
it's a trap the vows are fake he's using you don't see him it's forbidden
Ophelia is not the only woman in the play who is expected to obey without explanation. Gertrude married Claudius — how much she was consulted, or whether she had a choice, is never stated. The women of Hamlet are in a world that expects compliance from them as its default condition.
What makes Ophelia's situation especially acute is that her compliance has direct consequences for the plot. By following her father's instructions and cutting off Hamlet, she becomes part of the surveillance system that Claudius will later exploit more deliberately. In 2-1 Polonius will send her to Hamlet while he and Claudius watch from hiding. Her obedience becomes an instrument of state observation.
Shakespeare never shows Ophelia resisting this. What he shows instead is the cost: by 4-5, with her father dead and Hamlet gone, she is singing songs about death and sexual betrayal, distributing flowers, unable to maintain coherent speech. The question the play raises but doesn't answer is whether her madness is grief, or whether it is what happens to a person who has been required to suppress her own judgment long enough.
Her final obedience — 'I shall obey, my lord' — takes on retrospective horror because it is her last clearly voluntary act in the play. Everything after this is something that happens to her.
So please you, something touching the Lord Hamlet.
I will obey you, Father.
I'll do what you say.
yes father obey
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.
They exit.
They leave together.
they go ophelia polonious together
He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders
Of his affection to me.
He has, my lord, made many advances toward me lately — declarations of his feelings.
Yes, my lord — he's been saying a lot of things to me. Romantic things. Frequently.
hamlet keeps saying he has feelings for me it's happening i don't know what to do
Affection! Pooh! You speak like a green girl,
Unsifted in such perilous circumstance.
Do you believe his tenders, as you call them?
Affection! Ridiculous. You talk like a naive young girl, untested in matters like this. Do you really believe these declarations, as you call them?
Affection? Come on. You're talking like a kid who's never seen the world. You actually think he means all this romantic stuff?
you're being naive these aren't real you don't understand what he actually wants
I do not know, my lord, what I should think.
I don't know, my lord. I'm not sure what I should think.
I don't know, my lord. I don't know what to think.
i don't know what he wants what i should believe what any of this means
Marry, I’ll teach you; think yourself a baby;
That you have ta’en these tenders for true pay,
Which are not sterling. Tender yourself more dearly;
Or,—not to crack the wind of the poor phrase,
Running it thus,—you’ll tender me a fool.
Well then, I'll instruct you. Think of yourself as a baby who has confused these 'tenders' — these offers — with real currency. They're counterfeit. Value yourself more highly. Or, to speak plainly without overworking the metaphor — you'll make a fool of me.
Then I'll teach you. You're treating his romantic overtures like they're real money. They're not. They're fake. You need to think you're worth more. Or put it this way — if you don't, you're making me look like an idiot.
stop being an idiot these romantic words are worthless value yourself or you embarrass me
My lord, he hath importun’d me with love
In honourable fashion.
My lord, he has pressed his love on me in an honorable way.
But father, he's done it honorably. He's been respectful about it.
he's been respectful he's been proper why are you like this
Ay, fashion you may call it; go to, go to.
Honorable? Yes, you can call it that. But understand me.
Honorable. Sure. That's what we'll call it.
honorable that's cute that's what you think
And hath given countenance to his speech, my lord,
With almost all the holy vows of heaven.
And he has backed up his words with action, my lord — with almost all the sacred oaths heaven could witness.
And he's sworn to me — with all these holy oaths, like he's making promises before God. He's serious about it.
he swears he swears by heaven he uses religious oaths he seems sincere
Ay, springes to catch woodcocks. I do know,
When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul
Lends the tongue vows: these blazes, daughter,
Giving more light than heat, extinct in both,
Even in their promise, as it is a-making,
You must not take for fire. From this time
Be something scanter of your maiden presence;
Set your entreatments at a higher rate
Than a command to parley. For Lord Hamlet,
Believe so much in him that he is young;
And with a larger tether may he walk
Than may be given you. In few, Ophelia,
Do not believe his vows; for they are brokers,
Not of that dye which their investments show,
But mere implorators of unholy suits,
Breathing like sanctified and pious bawds,
The better to beguile. This is for all:
I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth
Have you so slander any moment leisure
As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet.
Look to’t, I charge you; come your ways.
Those oaths? They're just snares to catch foolish birds. Daughter, I know: when the blood burns hot, the soul is recklessly generous with vows. These passionate displays give more light than warmth, and they fade even as they're being made. Do not mistake them for genuine commitment. From now on, guard yourself. Make your company worth more — don't grant him easy access. Remember, he is young and can move more freely than you. In short, Ophelia: do not believe his oaths. They are merely agents of seduction, not genuine declarations. They come dressed in sacred words to deceive. This is my final word: do not waste any moment alone with Prince Hamlet. Do not speak with him. I charge you — go now.
Those are just tricks to trap you. Look, I know how this works. When a guy's passionate, he'll promise you anything — the words sound bright and important, but they mean nothing. They're gone the second he stops saying them. Don't fall for it. From now on, don't make yourself so available. Make him work for your company. Keep him at a distance — he's got more freedom than you do anyway. The bottom line is this, Ophelia: don't trust what he says. Those oaths are just tools to get what he wants. They're dressed up in religious language to trick you. So here's the rule: no talking to Prince Hamlet alone. None. Don't do it. I mean it — let's go.
he's manipulating you men use oaths as weapons they burn hot then go cold his words are fake don't be alone with him i forbid it
I shall obey, my lord.
I shall obey, my lord.
Yes, father. I'll do as you say.
okay i'll obey no choice anyway
The Reckoning
Laertes is leaving for France. Before he goes, he warns his sister Ophelia that Hamlet's love, however sincere it seems, cannot be trusted — a prince can't choose freely, and she should protect herself. Polonius enters, delivers his famous farewell advice to Laertes (a string of polished maxims), and then turns to Ophelia. He interrogates her about Hamlet and dismisses the relationship more harshly than Laertes did. His prohibition isn't just cautionary — he orders her to refuse Hamlet's visits and return his letters. Ophelia obeys. The scene ends with the machinery of Ophelia's tragedy already in motion: she is being instructed to be unavailable to the man she loves, by men who believe they are protecting her.
If this happened today…
A college senior is about to study abroad for a year. Before he goes, he pulls his younger sister aside: the guy she's been seeing? He's the dean's kid. He can't actually date her seriously — his family will never allow it. Be careful. Dad comes in, gives the departing son the speech he's been saving for years — all the life wisdom he wants documented before his son leaves. Then he turns to his daughter and demands to know what's going on with the dean's kid. She tells him. He doesn't just agree with her brother; he goes further: no more contact. Don't see him. Send his texts back unread. She says yes, of course. She always does.