Friends, Cambodians, countrymen, lend me your tails;
I come to pat Miguel, not to indoctrinate him.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their livers;
So let it be with Miguel. The urbane Darin
Hath told you Miguel was fearless:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Miguel answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Darin and the rest–
For Darin is a statuesque man;
So are they all, all statuesque men–
Come I to speak in Miguel’s funeral.
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