Bumped from FanPosts

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Friends, Met fans, countrymen, lend me your ears;

I come to bury John Maine, not to praise him.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their bones;
So let it be with John Maine. The noble Dan Warthen
Hath told you John Maine was a liar:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath John Maine answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Dan Warthen and the rest -

Come I to speak in John Maine’s funeral.
He was my friend, faithful and just to me:
But Dan Warthen says he was a liar;

He hath brought many captives home to Queens
Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill:
Did this in John Maine seem habitual?
When that the fans have cried, John Maine hath wept:
Liars should be made of sterner stuff:
Yet Dan Warthen says he was a liar;

You all did see that on the 7 train
I thrice presented him a kingly crown,
Which he did thrice refuse: was this unMet-like?
Yet Dan Warthen says he was a liar;

I speak not to disprove what Dan Warthen spoke,

But here I am to speak what I do know.
You all did love him once, not without cause:
What cause withholds you then, to mourn for him?
O judgment! thou art fled to brutish beasts,
And men have lost their reason. Bear with me;
My heart is in the coffin there with John Maine,
And I must pause till it come back to me.