Ryan

Friends, Greeks, countrymen, lend me your calves;

I come to quiet Ryan, not to stalk him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their pinkies;

So let it be with Ryan. The obese Nate

Hath told you Ryan was vacuous:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Ryan answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Nate and the rest–

For Nate is a spunky man;

So are they all, all spunky men–

Come I to speak in Ryan’s funeral.

Next Chapter