And he does say so.
We can count these last sentences he will utter on our hands. Perhaps even one hand, depending on the editor. If we collected them in a basket, would these be the words he’d want to be his last?
He spends his last moments on earth going between a mother and son. His last speech is to offer instructive advice to said mother.
Is this how he’d want to go out?
I’m not sure, if I knew my minutes on this planet were numbered, that I’d spend them trying to fix anyone else’s mess. I’d hope to finish off with something pithy or meaningful or true.
I wouldn’t care if it were clichéd; I’d be up for telling every last person and thing that I loved them. Polonius has some rhetorical arts. I’m sure he’d have preferred to go out on a philosophical speech.
But, I suppose, we never do get what we want.
He gets, at least, a nice dramatic death – a sword through the guts is so much better than a wasting away.