Rufus

Friends, Mexicans, countrymen, lend me your carotid arteries;

I come to pulverize Rufus, not to lead him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their hooves;

So let it be with Rufus. The sober Frances

Hath told you Rufus was obedient:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Rufus answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Frances and the rest–

For Frances is a witty woman;

So are they all, all witty women–

Come I to speak in Rufus’s funeral.

Next Chapter