A pestilence on him for a mad rogue! ‘a pour’d a flagon
of Rhenish on my head once. This same skull, sir, was, sir,
Yorick’s skull, the King’s jester.
This? [Takes the skull]
Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio, a fellow of infinite
jest, of most excellent fancy. He hath bore me on his back a thousand times, and now how abhorr’d in my imagination it is!
My gorge rises at it.
Read more about this scene from Hamlet :)