Rover

Friends, Danes, countrymen, lend me your teeth;

I come to awe Rover, not to recoil from him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their skins;

So let it be with Rover. The cheerful Charlene

Hath told you Rover was monstrous:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Rover answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Charlene and the rest–

For Charlene is an unruffled woman;

So are they all, all unruffled women–

Come I to speak in Rover’s funeral.

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