Friends, Belgians, countrymen, lend me your faces;
I come to see Jesse, not to lie to him.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their hearts;
So let it be with Jesse. The unruffled Luis
Hath told you Jesse was attractive:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Jesse answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Luis and the rest–
For Luis is a boring man;
So are they all, all boring men–
Come I to speak in Jesse’s funeral.
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