Vance

Friends, Turks, countrymen, lend me your brains;

I come to ignore Vance, not to frown at him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their adrenal glands;

So let it be with Vance. The sociable Barnabas

Hath told you Vance was mindless:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Vance answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Barnabas and the rest–

For Barnabas is a vacuous man;

So are they all, all vacuous men–

Come I to speak in Vance’s funeral.

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