Polonius: What Do You Read, My Lord?

Make The Upcoming Hour Overflow With Joy, And Let Pleasure Drown The Brim.

He Is Winding The Watch Of His Wit; By And By It Will Strike.

A Ministering Angel Shall My Sister Be.

Let Still Woman Take An Elder Than Herself: So Wears She To Him, So Sways She Level In Her Husband's Heart, For, Boy, However We Do Praise Ourselves, Our Fancies Are More Giddy And Unfirm, More Longing, Wavering, Sooner To Be Lost And Warn, Than Women's Are.

I Do Desire We May Be Better Strangers.