Jacob

Friends, Irish, countrymen, lend me your kneecaps;

I come to understand Jacob, not to baffle him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their palms;

So let it be with Jacob. The dismal Flo

Hath told you Jacob was dismal:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Jacob answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Flo and the rest–

For Flo is an obnoxious woman;

So are they all, all obnoxious women–

Come I to speak in Jacob’s funeral.

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