Polonius:
How are you, Hamlet?
Hamlet:
Alright, thank God.
Polonius:
Do you know me?
Hamlet:
Sure, You are the butcher.
Polonius:
No, I'm not.
Hamlet:
I wish you were.
Polonius:
Why?
Hamlet:
It would make you more respectable. Only one man in 10,000 is respectable and even he's nothing much to boast about.
Polonius:
That's true.
Hamlet:
For if the sun breeds maggots in a dead b*tch it's worth the carrion to kiss it. You got a daughter?
Polonius:
Yes.
Hamlet:
Don't let her take too much sun, for it's nobler to give. Tell her about the facts of life or she might burst pregnant.
Polonius:
You're talking about my daughter? In my youth I, too suffered much for love. Almost just like you. What are you reading?
Hamlet:
Words, words, words.
Polonius:
About what?
Hamlet:
About it.
Polonius:
I mean: what's in the magazine?
Hamlet:
Gossip. Even if it was true, it's disgusting to print it because one day you'll be as old as I am, if you go backward like a crab.
Polonius:
I see. I must go. Will we meet again?
Hamlet:
I can't promise you anything else with as much pleasure, butcher except mu life, except my life, except my life.
Polonius:
Mad!
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