[Lying down at OPHELIA'S feet.][70]
Oph. (R.) You are merry, my lord.
Ham. O, your only jig-maker.[71] What should a man do but be merry? for, look you, how cheerfully my mother looks, and my father died within these two hours.
Oph. Nay, 'tis twice two months, my lord.
Ham. So long? Nay, then, let the devil wear black, for I'll have a suit of sables.[72] O heavens! die two months ago, and not forgotten yet? Then there's hope a great man's memory may outlive his life half a year: But, by'r-lady, he must build churches, then.[73]