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 rises 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.

Summary

In this quote from Shakespeare's play Hamlet, the character Hamlet reflects upon the skull of his jester, Yorick. Through his words, Hamlet laments the loss of his dear friend and acknowledges Yorick's once lively and comical nature. Hamlet recalls how Yorick used to entertain and amuse him, carrying him on his back and sharing moments of laughter. However, faced with death's inevitability, Hamlet finds this image repulsive, realizing the frailty and transience of life. He questions the meaning of Yorick's entertainment and humor now that he is gone, and decides to share the truth of mortality with his lady, even if it means stripping away any illusions and artifice about physical appearance.