HAMLET
Let me
see. [Takes the skull]
Alas, poor Yorick! I knew
him, Horatio: a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hath borne
me on his back a thousand times; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is!
my gorge rims at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how
oft. Where be your gibes now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of
merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one now, to mock your
own grinning? quite chap-fallen? Now get you to my lady’s chamber, and tell
her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come; make her laugh
at that.
Hamlet. William Shakespeare
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The young lord Hamlet -1868-. Philip Hermogenes Calderón.
