Friends, Argentinians, countrymen, lend me your thighs;
I come to fool Ryan, not to date him.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their knees;
So let it be with Ryan. The wily Vera
Hath told you Ryan was precocious:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Ryan answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Vera and the rest–
For Vera is a dismal woman;
So are they all, all dismal women–
Come I to speak in Ryan’s funeral.
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