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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.