Friends, Cambodians, countrymen, lend me your little toes;
I come to wink at Robin, not to lie to him.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their hooves;
So let it be with Robin. The sleepy Patrick
Hath told you Robin was stylish:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Robin answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Patrick and the rest–
For Patrick is an awkward man;
So are they all, all awkward men–
Come I to speak in Robin’s funeral.
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