No More Learning

Ros. We think not so, my lord.
Ham. Why, then 'tis none to you; for there is nothing either good
or bad but thinking makes it so. To me it is a prison.
Ros. Why, then your ambition makes it one. 'Tis too narrow for your
mind.
Ham. O God, I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a
king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams.
Guil. Which dreams indeed are ambition; for the very substance of
the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream.
Ham. A dream itself is but a shadow.
Ros.
Truly, and I hold ambition of so airy and light a quality that
it is but a shadow's shadow.
Ham. Then are our beggars bodies, and our monarchs and outstretch'd
heroes the beggars' shadows. Shall we to th' court? for, by my
fay, I cannot reason.
Both. We'll wait upon you.
Ham. No such matter! I will not sort you with the rest of my
servants; for, to speak to you like an honest man, I am most
dreadfully attended. But in the beaten way of friendship, what
make you at Elsinore?
Ros. To visit you, my lord; no other occasion.
Ham. Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks; but I thank you;
and sure, dear friends, my thanks are too dear a halfpenny. Were
you not sent for?