hand,⸺his right being still grasped close in that of Eugenius ,⸺I beseech thee to take a view of my head.—I see nothing that ails it, replied Eugenius . Then, alas! my friend, said Yorick , let me tell you, that ’tis so bruised and mis-shapened with the blows which * and ***, and some others have so unhandsomely given me, in the dark, that I might say with Sancho Pança , that should I recover, and “Mitres thereupon be suffered to rain down from heaven as thick as hail, not one of them would fit it.”⸺ Yorick’s last breath was hanging upon his trembling lips ready to depart as he uttered this:⸺yet still it was uttered with something of a Cervantick tone;⸺and as he spoke it, Eugenius could perceive a stream of lambent fire lighted up for a moment in his eyes;⸺faint picture of those flashes of his spirit, which (as Shakespeare said of his ancestor) were wont to set the table in a roar!
Eugenius was convinced from this, that the heart of his friend was broke: he squeezed his hand,⸺and then walked softly out of the room, weeping as he walked. Yorick followed Eugenius with his eyes to the door,—he then closed them,—and never opened them more.