First Clo. I'faith, if a' be not rotten before a' die—as[2049][2050] 155
we have many pocky corses now-a-days, that will scarce[2051]
hold the laying in—a' will last you some eight year or nine[2051]
year: a tanner will last you nine year.[2052]
Ham. Why he more than another?
First Clo. Why, sir, his hide is so tanned with his trade[2053] 160
that a' will keep out water a great while; and your water is[2054]
a sore decayer of your whoreson dead body. Here's a skull[2055]
now: this skull has lain in the earth three and twenty years.[2055][2056]
Ham. Whose was it?
First Clo. A whoreson mad fellow's it was: whose do[2057] 165
you think it was?[2057]
Ham. Nay, I know not.
First Clo. A pestilence on him for a mad rogue! a'[2058]
poured a flagon of Rhenish on my head once. This same[2059]
skull, sir, was Yorick's skull, the king's jester.[2059][2060] 170
Ham. This?
First Clo. E'en that.
Ham. Let me see. [Takes the skull.] Alas, poor[2061]
Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellow of infinite jest, of
most excellent fancy: he hath borne me on his back a[2062] 175
thousand times; and now how abhorred in my imagination[2063][2064]
it is! my gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I[2064]
have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes
now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment,[2065]
that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one[2066] 180
now, to mock your own grinning? quite chop-fallen? Now[2067]
get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint[2068]
an inch thick, to this favour she must come; make her[2069]
laugh at that. Prithee, Horatio, tell me one thing.