Tori

Friends, Ethopians, countrymen, lend me your paws;

I come to needle Tori, not to push her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their kidneys;

So let it be with Tori. The quiet Pedro

Hath told you Tori was apoplectic:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Tori answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Pedro and the rest–

For Pedro is a masculine man;

So are they all, all masculine men–

Come I to speak in Tori’s funeral.

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