Macon

Friends, Italians, countrymen, lend me your eyelashes;

I come to talk to Macon, not to spank him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their nostrils;

So let it be with Macon. The obese Perry

Hath told you Macon was ladylike:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Macon answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Perry and the rest–

For Perry is a shiftless man;

So are they all, all shiftless men–

Come I to speak in Macon’s funeral.

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