Morgan

Friends, Jamaicans, countrymen, lend me your chests;

I come to spill a glass of apple juice on Morgan, not to go out with him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their cheeks;

So let it be with Morgan. The peculiar Vivian

Hath told you Morgan was polite:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Morgan answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Vivian and the rest–

For Vivian is an evil woman;

So are they all, all evil women–

Come I to speak in Morgan’s funeral.

Next Chapter