No More Learning

My lord, you once did love me.
Ham. And do still, by these pickers and stealers!
Ros. Good my lord, what is your cause of distemper? You do surely
bar the door upon your own liberty, if you deny your griefs to
your friend.
Ham. Sir, I lack advancement.
Ros. How can that be, when you have the voice of the King himself
for your succession in Denmark?
Ham. Ay, sir, but 'while the grass grows'- the proverb is something
musty.

Enter the Players with recorders.

O, the recorders! Let me see one.
To withdraw with you- why do
you go about to recover the wind of me, as if you would drive me
into a toil?
Guil. O my lord, if my duty be too bold, my love is too unmannerly.
Ham. I do not well understand that. Will you play upon this pipe?
Guil. My lord, I cannot.
Ham. I pray you.
Guil. Believe me, I cannot.
Ham. I do beseech you.
Guil. I know, no touch of it, my lord.