英语词汇alas poor yorick的起源、历史背景-英语词源词典

Alas, poor Yorick. The famous passage from Hamlet in which the prince holds the old jester’s skull in his hand and reflects on the variety of life is thought by some to be a funeral oration commemorating the most noted of English clowns, Richard Tarleton (d. 1588). A very short, broad man who was one of the Queen’s Men, Tarleton was immensely popular in his day for his quick wit, jests, jig-dancing, singing, and comic acting. As a boy Shakespeare may well have known him, and Tarleton may even have carried little Willie on his back on one of his visits to Stratford as a traveling actor: Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Ho- ratio, a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy. He hath borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how abhorr’d in my imagination it is! My gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kiss’d 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 chopfall’n? Now get you to my lady’s chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come: Make her laugh at that.

词汇	alas poor yorick
词源	Alas, poor Yorick. The famous passage from Hamlet in which the prince holds the old jester’s skull in his hand and reflects on the variety of life is thought by some to be a funeral oration commemorating the most noted of English clowns, Richard Tarleton (d. 1588). A very short, broad man who was one of the Queen’s Men, Tarleton was immensely popular in his day for his quick wit, jests, jig-dancing, singing, and comic acting. As a boy Shakespeare may well have known him, and Tarleton may even have carried little Willie on his back on one of his visits to Stratford as a traveling actor: Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Ho- ratio, a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy. He hath borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how abhorr’d in my imagination it is! My gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kiss’d 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 chopfall’n? Now get you to my lady’s chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come: Make her laugh at that.
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