Andie

Friends, Mexicans, countrymen, lend me your veins;

I come to quarrel with Andie, not to forget her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their little fingers;

So let it be with Andie. The somber Drover

Hath told you Andie was disagreeable:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Andie answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Drover and the rest–

For Drover is a furious man;

So are they all, all furious men–

Come I to speak in Andie’s funeral.

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