Morton

Friends, Chileans, countrymen, lend me your shoulders;

I come to sting Morton, not to split up with him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their beards;

So let it be with Morton. The confident Savannah

Hath told you Morton was obedient:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Morton answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Savannah and the rest–

For Savannah is an attractive woman;

So are they all, all attractive women–

Come I to speak in Morton’s funeral.

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