Ros. Good my lord, what is your cause of distemper?
you do surely bar the door upon your own liberty, if you[1337]
deny your griefs to your friend.
Ham. Sir, I lack advancement.
Ros. How can that be, when you have the voice of the 325
king himself for your succession in Denmark?
Ham. Ay, sir, but 'while the grass grows,'—the proverb[1338]
is something musty.
Re-enter Players with recorders.[1339]
O, the recorders! let me see one. To withdraw with you:—[1340]
why do you go about to recover the wind of me, as if you 330
would drive me into a toil?
Guil. O, my lord, if my duty be too bold, my love is[1341]
too unmannerly.[1341]
Ham. I do not well understand that. Will you play
upon this pipe? 335
Guil. My lord, I cannot.[1342]
Ham. I pray you.