HAMLET         Beggar that I am, I am ever poor in thanks, but I thank you, and sure, dear friends, my thanks are too dear a halfpenny. Were you not sent for? Is it your own inclining? Is it a free visitation? Come, come, deal justly with me. Come, come, nay speak.

GUILDENSTERN        What should we say, my lord?

HAMLET         Anything but to th’ purpose. You were sent for, and there is a kind of confession in your looks, which your modesties have not craft enough to colour. I know the good King and Queen have sent for you.            (2.2.238-247)

This is one of the first exchanges in the play which really shows off Hamlet’s blend of intelligence, cynicism, and ruthlessness, even more than his baiting of Polonius. He’s playing with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, getting as much information as he can less from what they say than how they prevaricate and flounder: he knows already that they must have been summoned by Claudius and Gertrude to spy on him, but he’s still going to put them through it. Beggar that I am—irony, I’m a prince!—I am ever poor in thanks, MUST mind my manners more, show gratitude—but I thank you, and sure, dear friends (laying it on thick, there can be an accent on dear, you treacherous, mercenary bastards) my thanks are too dear a halfpenny. The kind of thanks I could give you now, for what you’re doing—well, it wouldn’t be worth much, would it? No change of tone, perhaps, still a bit of banter, as Hamlet asks outright, were you not sent for? Is it your own inclining? Is it a free visitation? Did you really, really just decide, all of a sudden, of your own free will, to come and hang out with me? We haven’t seen each other for years, you didn’t even come to the funeral! You’re under orders, we all know that, and you’re being paid for this. Come, come, deal justly with me. Come, come, nay, speak. Just be straight with me, tell the truth. Be HONEST, if that means anything anymore.

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern might be visibly squirming, or one of them might, or trying to push through, call Hamlet’s bluff: ask a question, don’t answer outright. What should we say, my lord? Well, what do you want us to say? What kind of answer are you looking for? Anything, but to the purpose; any old lie will do, any bluster or distraction. You were sent for, let’s all agree on that, and there is a kind of confession in your looks. I can tell just by looking at you; you’ve never been any good at fibbing or denial, neither of you; your modesties have not craft enough to colour, to conceal the truth of why you’re here. You’re just not very good at this sort of thing—not very clever, frankly—and you never have been. I know the good King and Queen (biting emphasis on good, of course) have sent for you. Busted, boys. (But no pleasure in it.)