Ham.
Safely stowed.

Ros. Guil. [Within]
Hamlet! ^note Lord Hamlet!

Ham.
But soft, ^note what noise? who calls on Hamlet?
O, here they come. Enter ^note Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.

Ros.
What have you done, my lord, with the dead body?

Ham.
Compounded ^note it with dust, whereto 'tis kin ^note.

Ros.
Tell us where 'tis, that we may take it thence
And bear it to the chapel.

Ham.

Do not believe it.

Ros.

Believe what?

Ham.

That I can keep your counsel and not mine own. Besides, to be demanded of a sponge! ^note what replication should be made by the son of a king?

Ros.

Take you me for a sponge, my lord?

Ham.

Ay, sir; that soaks up the king's countenance, his rewards, his authorities. But such officers do the king best service in the end: he keeps them, like an ape ^note, in the corner of his jaw; first mouthed, to be last swallowed:

when he needs what you have gleaned, it is but squeezing you, and, sponge, you shall be dry again.

Ros.

I understand you not, my lord.

Ham.

I am glad of it: a knavish speech sleeps in a foolish ear.

Ros.

My lord, you must tell us where the body is, and go with us to the king.

Ham.

The body is with the king, but ^note the king is not with the body. The king is a thing— ^note

Guil.

A thing ^note, my lord? ^note

Ham.

Of nothing: ^note bring me to him. Hide fox, and all after. ^note