André

Friends, Guatemalans, countrymen, lend me your big toes;

I come to charm André, not to make a face at him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their claws;

So let it be with André. The dismal Russell

Hath told you André was depraved:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath André answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Russell and the rest–

For Russell is a menacing man;

So are they all, all menacing men–

Come I to speak in André’s funeral.

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