Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Ham. No, no, I neuer gaue you ought.
Ophe. Ophe.
Ophe. My honor'd Lord, I know right well you did,
Ophe. And with them words of so sweet breath compos'd,
Ophe. As made the things more rich, then perfume left:
Ophe. Take these againe, for to the Noble minde
Ophe. Rich gifts wax poore, when giuers proue vnkinde.
Ophe. There my Lord.
Ham. Ham.
Ham. Ha, ha: Are you honest?
Ophe. My Lord.
Ham. Are you faire?
Ophe. What meanes your Lordship?
Ham. That if you be honest and faire, your Honesty
Ham. should admit no discourse to your Beautie.