Richard

Friends, Russians, countrymen, lend me your funny bones;

I come to bury Richard, not to bite him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their antennae;

So let it be with Richard. The powerful Ronnie

Hath told you Richard was unruffled:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Richard answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Ronnie and the rest–

For Ronnie is a frumpy man;

So are they all, all frumpy men–

Come I to speak in Richard’s funeral.

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