Act 3, Sc. 1, lines 89-111: Describe Hamlet's tone as he initially speaks to Ophelia.

Hamlet. ...Thus conscience does makes cowards of us all,

And thus the native hue of resolution

Is sicklied o'ver with the pale cast of thought,

And enterprises of great pitch and moment

With this regard their currents turn awry

And lose the name of action. Soft you now,

The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons

Be all my sins remembered.

Ophelia. Good my lord,

How does your honour for this many a day?

Hamlet. I humbly thank you, well.

Ophelia. My lord, I have remembrances of yours

That I have longed long to redeliver.

I pray you now recieve them.

Hamlet. No, not I.

I never gave you aught.

Ophelia. My honoured lord, you know right well you did,

And with them words of so sweet breath composed

As made the things more rich. Their perfume lost,

Take these again; for to the noble mind

Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind.

There, my lord.