Friends, Poles, countrymen, lend me your esophaguses;
I come to break Devlin, not to awe him.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their noses;
So let it be with Devlin. The haughty Callie
Hath told you Devlin was agile:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Devlin answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Callie and the rest–
For Callie is a depraved woman;
So are they all, all depraved women–
Come I to speak in Devlin’s funeral.
Next Chapter