Dorian

Friends, Moroccans, countrymen, lend me your lungs;

I come to dumbfound Dorian, not to have a talk with him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their fingers;

So let it be with Dorian. The obese Pamela

Hath told you Dorian was absent-minded:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Dorian answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Pamela and the rest–

For Pamela is a decent woman;

So are they all, all decent women–

Come I to speak in Dorian’s funeral.

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