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 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 chapfallen?

On Wed, Nov 29, 2000 at 11:22:38AM -0500, Micah Cooper wrote:
> Appears before them and with solemn march
> Goes slow and stately by them.
> --Horatio in Hamlet.
>
> > -----Original Message-----
> > From: Miami University LISTSERV List Testing
> > [mailto:[log in to unmask]]On Behalf Of Clayton L. Hynfield
> > Sent: Wednesday, November 29, 2000 10:29 AM
> > To: [log in to unmask]
> > Subject: Re: Oh boy
> >
> >
> > I would I knew not why it should be slow'd.
> >
> >