Hor.
These are but wild and whirling words, my lord.

Ham.
I'm sorry they offend you, heartily;
Yes, faith, heartily.

Hor.
There's no offence, my lord.

Ham.
Yes, by Saint Patrick, but there is, Horatio,
And much offence too. Touching this vision here,--
It is an honest ghost, that let me tell you:
For your desire to know what is between us,
O'ermaster't as you may. And now, good friends,
As you are friends, scholars, and soldiers,
Give me one poor request.

Hor.
What is't, my lord? we will.

Ham.
Never make known what you have seen to-night.

Hor. and Mar.
My lord, we will not.

Ham.
Nay, but swear't.