Alas, Acererak, we knew ye well.
I knew him, Horatio: a fellow of infinite power, of most excellent malice: he hath
borne me to my grave a thousand times; and now, how
abhorred in my imagination it is! My gorge rims at
it. Here hung those gemstone teeth that I have hunted I know
not how oft. Where be your power now? your
deathtraps? your treasures? your flashes of soul-eating sorcery,
that were wont to set the chamber on a roar of despair? Not one
now, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen?