Marcus

Friends, Ugandans, countrymen, lend me your kidneys;

I come to argue with Marcus, not to investigate him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their funny bones;

So let it be with Marcus. The enchanting Devin

Hath told you Marcus was peculiar:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Marcus answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Devin and the rest–

For Devin is an articulate man;

So are they all, all articulate men–

Come I to speak in Marcus’s funeral.

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