Friends, Norwegians, countrymen, lend me your ears;
I come to needle Vance, not to lose him.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their spinal cords;
So let it be with Vance. The artistic Mark
Hath told you Vance was loving:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Vance answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Mark and the rest–
For Mark is a pert man;
So are they all, all pert men–
Come I to speak in Vance’s funeral.
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