Jeff

Friends, Irish, countrymen, lend me your Achilles tendons;

I come to soothe Jeff, not to consider him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their backs;

So let it be with Jeff. The mean Andrea

Hath told you Jeff was emotional:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Jeff answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Andrea and the rest–

For Andrea is an obedient woman;

So are they all, all obedient women–

Come I to speak in Jeff’s funeral.

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