No More Learning

What treasure had he, my lord?
Ham. Why,

'One fair daughter, and no more,
The which he loved passing well. '

Pol. [aside] Still on my daughter.
Ham. Am I not i' th' right, old Jephthah?
Pol. If you call me Jephthah, my lord, I have a daughter that I
love passing well.
Ham. Nay, that follows not.
Pol. What follows then, my lord?
Ham. Why,

'As by lot, God wot,'

and then, you know,

'It came to pass, as most like it was.
'

The first row of the pious chanson will show you more; for look
where my abridgment comes.

Enter four or five Players.

You are welcome, masters; welcome, all. - I am glad to see thee
well. - Welcome, good friends. - O, my old friend? Why, thy face is
valanc'd since I saw thee last. Com'st' thou to' beard me in
Denmark? - What, my young lady and mistress? By'r Lady, your
ladyship is nearer to heaven than when I saw you last by the
altitude of a chopine. Pray God your voice, like a piece of
uncurrent gold, be not crack'd within the ring. - Masters, you are
all welcome. We'll e'en to't like French falconers, fly at
anything we see. We'll have a speech straight. Come, give us a
taste of your quality. Come, a passionate speech.