Brent

Friends, Egyptians, countrymen, lend me your chests;

I come to delight Brent, not to try to control him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their toenails;

So let it be with Brent. The humble Maria

Hath told you Brent was haggard:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Brent answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Maria and the rest–

For Maria is an emotional woman;

So are they all, all emotional women–

Come I to speak in Brent’s funeral.

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