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Chapter 123
Enter Hamlet, reading on a book. Queen. But look where sadly the poor wretch comes reading. Pol. Away, I do beseech you, both away I'll board him presently. O, give me leave. Exeunt King and Queen, [with Attendants]. How does my good Lord Hamlet? Ham. Well, God-a-mercy. Pol. Do you know me, my lord? Ham. Excellent well. You are a fishmonger. Pol. Not I, my lord. Ham. Then I would you were so honest a man. Pol. Honest, my lord? Ham. Ay, sir. To be honest, as this world goes, is to be one man pick'd out of ten thousand. Pol. That's very true, my lord. Ham. For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a god kissing carrion- Have you a daughter? Pol. I have, my lord. Ham. Let her not walk i' th' sun. Conception is a blessing, but not as your daughter may conceive. Frien
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