Isaac

Friends, Cameroonians, countrymen, lend me your carotid arteries;

I come to disparage Isaac, not to betray him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their aortas;

So let it be with Isaac. The brassy Abigail

Hath told you Isaac was emotional:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Isaac answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Abigail and the rest–

For Abigail is an enchanting woman;

So are they all, all enchanting women–

Come I to speak in Isaac’s funeral.

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