And 'gins to pale his ineffectual fire:
Adieu, adieu, adieu! remember me.
Ham. Hold, hold, my heart:
And you my sinews, grow not instant old,
But bear me stiffly up!-Remember thee!
Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat
In this distracted globe. Remember thee?
Yea, from the table of my memory
I'll wipe away all trivial fond records,
All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past
That youth and observation copied there;
And thy commandment all alone shall live
Within the book and volume of my brain,
Unmixed with baser matter: yes, by heaven,
I have sworn't.