Ham. Dost thou think Alexander look’d o’
this fashion i’ the earth?\t
Hor. E’en so.\t
Ham. And smelt so? Pah! [Puts down the skull.]\t
Hor. E’en so, my lord.\t
Ham. To what base uses we may return, Horatio! Why may
not imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander,
till he find it stopping a bung-hole?\t
Hor. Twere to consider too curiously, to consider
so.\t
Ham. No, faith, not a jot; but to follow him thither
with modesty enough and likelihood to lead it; as
thus: Alexander died, Alexander was buried, Alexander
returneth into dust, the dust is earth, of earth we
make loam, and why of that loam whereto he was
converted might they not stop a beer-barrel?
Imperial CÆsar, dead and turn’d to
clay,
\tMight stop a hole to keep the wind away.
\tO, that that earth, which kept the world in awe,
\tShould patch a wall to expel the winter’s
flaw!
But soft! but soft! Aside! Here comes the King,