Jacob

Friends, Rwandans, countrymen, lend me your bellies;

I come to confront Jacob, not to grab him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their legs;

So let it be with Jacob. The cheerful Ray

Hath told you Jacob was polite:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Jacob answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Ray and the rest–

For Ray is a princely man;

So are they all, all princely men–

Come I to speak in Jacob’s funeral.

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