OPHELIA:
Their perfume lost,
Take these again; for to the noble
mind
Rich gifts wax poor when givers
prove unkind.
There, my lord.
HAMLET:
Ha, ha! are you honest?
OPHELIA:
My lord?
HAMLET:
Are you fair?
OPHELIA:
What means your lordship?
HAMLET:
I did love you once.
OPHELIA:
Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so.
HAMLET:
You should not have believed me;
I loved you not.
OPHELIA:
I was the more deceived.
HAMLET:
Get thee to a nunnery: why wouldst thou be a breeder of sinners? We are arrant knaves, all; believe none of us. Go thy ways to a nunnery.
OPHELIA:
O, help him, you sweet heavens!
HAMLET:
If thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague for thy dowry: be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calumny. Or, if thou wilt needs marry, marry a fool; for wise men know well enough what monsters you make of them.
brain sore
brain sore
brain sore
brain sore
brain sore
brain sore
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=92.2){kind=small}
lock_aes