matters?
OPHELIA I
think
nothing,
my lord.
HAMLET
That's a
fair
thought to
lie
between
maids'
legs.
OPHELIA
What is,
my lord?
HAMLET
Nothing.
OPHELIA
You are
merry, my
lord.
HAMLET
Who, I?
OPHELIA
Ay, my
lord.
HAMLET O
God, your
only
jig-maker.
What
should a
man do but
be merry?
for, look
you, how
cheerfully
my mother
looks, and
my father
died
within
these two
hours.
OPHELIA
Nay, 'tis
twice two
months, my
lord.
