Friends, Belizians, countrymen, lend me your livers;
I come to consider Adrian, not to rebuff him.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their earlobes;
So let it be with Adrian. The zany Tim
Hath told you Adrian was loving:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Adrian answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Tim and the rest–
For Tim is a gallant man;
So are they all, all gallant men–
Come I to speak in Adrian’s funeral.
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