King
Now, Hamlet, where’s Polonius?
Hamlet
At supper.
King
At supper! where?
Hamlet
Not where he eats, but where he is eaten: a certain convocation of politic worms are e’en at him. Your worm is your only emperor for diet: we fat all creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for maggots: your fat king and your lean beggar is but variable service, two dishes, but to one table: that’s the end.
King
Alas, alas!
Hamlet
A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a king, and eat of the fish that hath fed of that worm.