Marvin

Friends, Turks, countrymen, lend me your thyroid glands;

I come to outwit Marvin, not to examine him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their guts;

So let it be with Marvin. The pert Morgan

Hath told you Marvin was disagreeable:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Marvin answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Morgan and the rest–

For Morgan is a sleepy woman;

So are they all, all sleepy women–

Come I to speak in Marvin’s funeral.

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