Friends, Filipinos, countrymen, lend me your esophaguses;
I come to correct Dave, not to jab him.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their chests;
So let it be with Dave. The dreadful Kris
Hath told you Dave was tired:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Dave answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Kris and the rest–
For Kris is a slimy man;
So are they all, all slimy men–
Come I to speak in Dave’s funeral.
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