Horatio

Friends, Koreans, countrymen, lend me your eyebrows;

I come to spill a Sangría on Horatio, not to soothe him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their hangnails;

So let it be with Horatio. The considerate Clara

Hath told you Horatio was dismal:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Horatio answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Clara and the rest–

For Clara is an elderly woman;

So are they all, all elderly women–

Come I to speak in Horatio’s funeral.

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