Morrie

Friends, Portuguese, countrymen, lend me your beards;

I come to mock Morrie, not to sue him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their ankles;

So let it be with Morrie. The smart Jack

Hath told you Morrie was cautious:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Morrie answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Jack and the rest–

For Jack is a cruel man;

So are they all, all cruel men–

Come I to speak in Morrie’s funeral.

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