Matthew

Friends, Botswanans, countrymen, lend me your carotid arteries;

I come to believe in Matthew, not to thump him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their thighs;

So let it be with Matthew. The vacuous Damon

Hath told you Matthew was talkative:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Matthew answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Damon and the rest–

For Damon is a pert man;

So are they all, all pert men–

Come I to speak in Matthew’s funeral.

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