Original Text
*Another room in the Castle. Enter Hamlet.*
HAMLET.
Safely stowed.
ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN.
[*Within.*] Hamlet! Lord Hamlet!
HAMLET.
What noise? Who calls on Hamlet? O, here they come.
*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 countenance, his rewards, his
authorities. But such officers do the King best service in the end: he
keeps them, like an ape, 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.
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.
*[Exeunt.]*
Modern English
*Another room in the Castle. Enter Hamlet.*
HAMLET.
Safely hidden.
ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN.
[*From outside.*] Hamlet! Lord Hamlet!
HAMLET.
What's that noise? Who's calling for Hamlet? Oh — here they come.
*Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.*
ROSENCRANTZ.
What have you done with the body, my lord?
HAMLET.
Mixed it back with the dust it came from — that's where it belongs.
ROSENCRANTZ.
Tell us where it is so we can take it
and bring it to the chapel.
HAMLET.
Don't count on it.
ROSENCRANTZ.
Don't count on what?
HAMLET.
That I'll keep your secrets while you don't keep mine. Besides — being
questioned by a sponge? What kind of answer does the son of a king owe a sponge?
ROSENCRANTZ.
Are you calling me a sponge, my lord?
HAMLET.
Exactly — one that soaks up the King's favor, his rewards, his authority.
But servants like you end up serving the King best in the end:
he keeps you the way an ape holds something in its cheek —
chewed first, swallowed last. When he needs whatever information
you've gathered for him, he just squeezes you —
and then, sponge, you're wrung dry again.
ROSENCRANTZ.
I don't follow you, my lord.
HAMLET.
I'm glad of it. A clever insult goes straight over a fool's head.
ROSENCRANTZ.
My lord, you must tell us where the body is and come 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. Take me to him. Ready or not, here I come.
*[Exeunt.]*
