Robin

Friends, Cambodians, countrymen, lend me your little toes;

I come to wink at Robin, not to lie to him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their hooves;

So let it be with Robin. The sleepy Patrick

Hath told you Robin was stylish:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Robin answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Patrick and the rest–

For Patrick is an awkward man;

So are they all, all awkward men–

Come I to speak in Robin’s funeral.

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