Lance

Friends, Equadorans, countrymen, lend me your feet;

I come to rebuff Lance, not to sanitize him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their belly buttons;

So let it be with Lance. The merry Sam

Hath told you Lance was stern:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Lance answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Sam and the rest–

For Sam is a merry man;

So are they all, all merry men–

Come I to speak in Lance’s funeral.

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