[HORATIO and MARCELLUS again place their hands on HAMLET'S
sword.]
Ghost. (Beneath.) Swear.
Ham. Rest, rest, perturbed spirit! So gentlemen,
With all my love I do commend me to you:
And what so poor a man as Hamlet is
May do, to express his love and friending to you,
Heaven willing, shall not lack. Let us go in together;
[Crosses to L.]
And still your fingers on your lips, I pray.
The time is out of joint; - O cursèd spite,
That ever I was born to set it right!
Nay, come, let's go together.
[Exeunt L.H.]
