Vilmer

Friends, Saudis, countrymen, lend me your femurs;

I come to betray Vilmer, not to damage him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their pieholes;

So let it be with Vilmer. The talkative Mark

Hath told you Vilmer was powerful:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Vilmer answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Mark and the rest–

For Mark is a jaunty man;

So are they all, all jaunty men–

Come I to speak in Vilmer’s funeral.

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