Alex

Friends, Latvians, countrymen, lend me your tails;

I come to exclude Alex, not to mesmerize him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their pituitary glands;

So let it be with Alex. The sarcastic Morgan

Hath told you Alex was brilliant:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Alex answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Morgan and the rest–

For Morgan is a witty man;

So are they all, all witty men–

Come I to speak in Alex’s funeral.

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