Zachary

Friends, Moroccans, countrymen, lend me your skulls;

I come to dump Zachary, not to grab him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their Achilles tendons;

So let it be with Zachary. The dependable Lex

Hath told you Zachary was happy:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Zachary answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Lex and the rest–

For Lex is a cuddly man;

So are they all, all cuddly men–

Come I to speak in Zachary’s funeral.

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