1 And sure, dear friends, my thanks are too dear a halfpenny.
2 Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off, And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark.
3 And now, good friends, As you are friends, scholars, and soldiers, Give me one poor request.
4 Go but apart, Make choice of whom your wisest friends you will, And they shall hear and judge 'twixt you and me.'
5 To his good friends thus wide I'll ope my arms; And, like the kind life-rendering pelican, Repast them with my blood.
6 Neither a borrower nor a lender be: For loan oft loses both itself and friend; And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
7 Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them unto thy soul with hoops of steel; But do not dull thy palm with entertainment Of each new-hatch'd, unfledg'd comrade.
8 Now must your conscience my acquittance seal, And you must put me in your heart for friend, Sith you have heard, and with a knowing ear, That he which hath your noble father slain Pursu'd my life.
9 The great man down, you mark his favourite flies, The poor advanc'd makes friends of enemies; And hitherto doth love on fortune tend: For who not needs shall never lack a friend, And who in want a hollow friend doth try, Directly seasons him his enemy.
10 The great man down, you mark his favourite flies, The poor advanc'd makes friends of enemies; And hitherto doth love on fortune tend: For who not needs shall never lack a friend, And who in want a hollow friend doth try, Directly seasons him his enemy.
11 Come, Gertrude, we'll call up our wisest friends, And let them know both what we mean to do And what's untimely done, so haply slander, Whose whisper o'er the world's diameter, As level as the cannon to his blank, Transports his poison'd shot, may miss our name, And hit the woundless air.