Friends, Myanmarans, countrymen, lend me your lungs;
I come to caress Darin, not to shake him.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their jaws;
So let it be with Darin. The sarcastic Bones
Hath told you Darin was cheerful:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Darin answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Bones and the rest–
For Bones is a creepy man;
So are they all, all creepy men–
Come I to speak in Darin’s funeral.
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