Dillon

Friends, Cameroonians, countrymen, lend me your shins;

I come to step on Dillon, not to glare at him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their paws;

So let it be with Dillon. The clever Cynthia

Hath told you Dillon was suave:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Dillon answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Cynthia and the rest–

For Cynthia is a nonchalant woman;

So are they all, all nonchalant women–

Come I to speak in Dillon’s funeral.

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