Ham. Why he, more then another?
Clo. Why sir, his hide is so tan'd with his Trade, that he will keepe out water a great while. And [Sidenote: a will] your water, is a sore Decayer of your horson dead body. Heres a Scull now: this Scul, has laine in [Sidenote: now hath iyen you i'th earth 23. yeeres.] the earth three and twenty years.
Ham. Whose was it?
Clo. A whoreson mad Fellowes it was; Whose doe you thinke it was?
Ham. Nay, I know not.
Clo. A pestlence on him for a mad Rogue, a pou'rd a Flaggon of Renish on my head once. This same Scull Sir, this same Scull sir, was Yoricks [Sidenote: once; this same skull sir, was sir Yoricks] Scull, the Kings Iester.
Ham. This?
Clo. E'ene that.
Ham. Let me see. Alas poore Yorick, I knew [Sidenote: Ham. Alas poore] him Horatio, a fellow of infinite Iest; of most excellent fancy, he hath borne me on his backe a [Sidenote: bore] thousand times: And how abhorred[1] my Imagination [Sidenote: and now how | in my] is, my gorge rises at it. Heere hung those [Sidenote: it is:] lipps, that I haue kist I know not how oft. Where be your Iibes now? Your Gambals? Your Songs? Your flashes of Merriment that were wont to set the Table on a Rore? No one[2] now to mock your [Sidenote: not one] own Ieering? Quite chopfalne[3]? Now get you to [Sidenote: owne grinning,] my Ladies Chamber, and tell her, let her paint an [Sidenote: Ladies table,] inch thicke, to this fauour[4] she must come. Make her laugh at that: prythee Horatio tell me one thing.
Hor. What's that my Lord?