Enter the Players with recorders.

HAMLET         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?

GUILDENSTERN        O my lord, if my duty be too bold, my love is too unmannerly.

HAMLET         I do not well understand that. Will you play upon this pipe?

GUILDENSTERN        My lord, I cannot.

HAMLET         I pray you.

GUILDENSTERN        Believe me, I cannot.

HAMLET         I do beseech you.

GUILDENSTERN        I know no touch of it, my lord.

HAMLET         It is as easy as lying. Govern these ventages with your fingers and thumb, give it breath with your mouth, and it will discourse most eloquent music. Look you, these are the stops.

GUILDENSTERN        But these cannot I command to any utterance of harmony. I have not the skill. (3.2.337-354)

The recorders! Hamlet’s pleased, let me see one, but he continues to needle at Rosencrantz and Guildenstern: To withdraw with you, if we could just have a quiet word, why do you go about to recover the wind of me, as if you would drive me into a toil? His conceit’s from hunting: why are you trying yet again, from yet another angle, to trap me? Guildenstern’s back for another go, perhaps Hamlet’s addressing him in particular: o my lord, if my duty be too bold, my love is too unmannerly. I’m only doing this because I care!! Hamlet’s not biting, this is amateur stuff, I do not well understand that; that’s not the impression I’m getting, not at all. Not a lot of love, no.

Now to his next trick. Will you play upon this pipe? Give us a tune on the recorder, please, do! Guildenstern is understandably confused: my lord, I cannot. I pray you, come on, just one tune! Believe me, I cannot; really, I can’t, I mean it. I do beseech you, pretty please, have a go! But I know no touch of it, my lord. I don’t know how! It is as easy as lying. Game, set, and match. Any fool can play the recorder, with as much ease as the two of you are able to lie and lie and lie. Look, govern these ventages with your fingers and thumb—cover the holes, like this—give it breath with your mouth, BLOW, and it will discourse most eloquent music. Lovely tunes, so easy! Look you, these are the stops, the holes, right here! Guildenstern’s annoyed, frustrated, baffled; the conversation’s both mad and somehow insulting, that it’s all coming down to his having to admit that he doesn’t know how to play the recorder: but these cannot I command to any utterance of harmony. I have not the skill. I don’t know the fingering, I really, really don’t know how!