Nathan

Friends, Puerto Ricans, countrymen, lend me your hangnails;

I come to poke Nathan, not to stalk him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their spines;

So let it be with Nathan. The gallant Morgan

Hath told you Nathan was evil:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Nathan answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Morgan and the rest–

For Morgan is a taciturn man;

So are they all, all taciturn men–

Come I to speak in Nathan’s funeral.

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