Studs

Friends, Greeks, countrymen, lend me your guts;

I come to shave Studs, not to stalk him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their spleens;

So let it be with Studs. The megalomaniacal Kirby

Hath told you Studs was brazen:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Studs answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Kirby and the rest–

For Kirby is a paranoid man;

So are they all, all paranoid men–

Come I to speak in Studs’s funeral.

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