Beauford

Friends, Bermudans, countrymen, lend me your palms;

I come to draw strength from Beauford, not to operate on him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their knuckles;

So let it be with Beauford. The childish Annabelle

Hath told you Beauford was disorganized:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Beauford answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Annabelle and the rest–

For Annabelle is an enchanting woman;

So are they all, all enchanting women–

Come I to speak in Beauford’s funeral.

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