Mason

Friends, Argentinians, countrymen, lend me your arteries;

I come to sue Mason, not to bore him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their nostrils;

So let it be with Mason. The brash Cynthia

Hath told you Mason was cunning:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Mason answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Cynthia and the rest–

For Cynthia is an emotional woman;

So are they all, all emotional women–

Come I to speak in Mason’s funeral.

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