Maria

Friends, Armenians, countrymen, lend me your spleens;

I come to lick Maria, not to reeducate her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their scalps;

So let it be with Maria. The hysterical Beauford

Hath told you Maria was menacing:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Maria answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Beauford and the rest–

For Beauford is a cunning man;

So are they all, all cunning men–

Come I to speak in Maria’s funeral.

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