Gunther

Friends, Pakistanis, countrymen, lend me your ankles;

I come to massage Gunther, not to doubt him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their faces;

So let it be with Gunther. The weary Juan

Hath told you Gunther was smart:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Gunther answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Juan and the rest–

For Juan is an enchanting man;

So are they all, all enchanting men–

Come I to speak in Gunther’s funeral.

Next Chapter