Roy

Friends, Swedes, countrymen, lend me your appendixes;

I come to caress Roy, not to replace him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their ankles;

So let it be with Roy. The bilious Alan

Hath told you Roy was impish:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Roy answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Alan and the rest–

For Alan is an energetic man;

So are they all, all energetic men–

Come I to speak in Roy’s funeral.

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