Dillon

Friends, Cambodians, countrymen, lend me your knees;

I come to trust Dillon, not to stun him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their thighs;

So let it be with Dillon. The fuzzy Pablo

Hath told you Dillon was sleek:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Dillon answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Pablo and the rest–

For Pablo is an affable man;

So are they all, all affable men–

Come I to speak in Dillon’s funeral.

Next Chapter