HAMLET: And I still do, by these two little hands!
ROSENCRANTZ: My good lord, what is the cause of this mood you’re in?
ROSENCRANTZ: You surely trap yourself in your own problems if you refuse to share them with your friends.
HAMLET: Sir, I lack prospects for advancement.
ROSENCRANTZ: How can that be, when the king himself says that you will succeed him on the throne of Denmark?
HAMLET: Ay sir, but the horse starves to death, waiting for the grass to grow . . . It’s a musty old proverb.
Oh, the recorders! Let me see one.