Milo

Friends, South Africans, countrymen, lend me your hooves;

I come to damage Milo, not to escape from him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their lungs;

So let it be with Milo. The agitated Fawn

Hath told you Milo was energetic:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Milo answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Fawn and the rest–

For Fawn is a deadly woman;

So are they all, all deadly women–

Come I to speak in Milo’s funeral.

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