Ophelia sees Hamlet and decides to see how he's doing.
Good my lord, How does your honour for this many a day?
I humbly thank you, well
My lord, I have remembrances of yours that I have longed long to redeliver. I pray you now recieve them.
My honour'd lord, you know right well you did, and with them words of so sweet breath compos'd as made the things more rich. Their perfume lost, take these again; for the noble mind. Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind. There, my lord.
No, not I. I never gave you aught.
My lord?
What means your lordship?
That if you be honest and fair, your honesty should admit no discourse to your beauty.
Ha, ha! Are you honest?
Are you fair?
Could beauty, my lord, have better commence than with honesty?
Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so.
Ay, truly, for the power of beauty will sooner transform honesty from what is to a bawd than the force of honesty can translate beauty into his likeness. This was sometime a oaradix, but now the time gives it proof. I did love you once.
I was the more decieved.
You should not have believed me; for virtue cannot so inoculate our old stock but we shall relish of it. I loved you not
At home, my lord.
Get thee to a nunnery. Why, wouldst thou be a breeder of sinners? I am myself indifferent honest, but yet I could accuse me of such things that it were better my mother had not borne me. I am very proud, revengeful, ambitious, with more offences at my beck than I have thoughts to put them in, imagination to give them shape, or time to act them in. What should such fellows as I do crawling between earth and heaven? We are arrant knaves all, believe none of us. Go thy ways to a nunnery. Where's your father?
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