Enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN.
ROSENCRANTZ: What have you done, my lord, with 
the dead body?
HAMLET: Compounded it with dust, whereto 'tis kin.
ROSENCRANTZ: Tell us where 'tis, that we may take it thence,
And bear it to the chapel.
HAMLET: Do not believe it. 
ROSENCRANTZ: Believe what?
HAMLET: That I can keep your counsel and not mine
own. Besides, to be demanded of a sponge, what
replication should be made by the son of a king?
ROSENCRANTZ: Take you me for a sponge, my lord? 
HAMLET: Ay, sir, that soaks up the King's counten-
ance, his rewards, his authorities. But such officers do
the King best service in the end: he keeps them, like an
ape an apple, 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
ROSENCRANTZ: I understand you not, my lord.
HAMLET: I am glad of it, a knavish speech sleeps in a
foolish ear. 
ROSENCRANTZ: My lord, you must tell us where the
body is, and go with us to the King.
HAMLET: The body is with the King, but the King is
not with the body. The King is a thing --
GUILDENSTERN: A thing, my lord? 
HAMLET: Of nothing, bring me to him. Hide fox,
and all after.