Bev

Friends, Iraqis, countrymen, lend me your waists;

I come to kiss Bev, not to poke her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their beards;

So let it be with Bev. The difficult Kenneth

Hath told you Bev was obnoxious:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Bev answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Kenneth and the rest–

For Kenneth is a naïve man;

So are they all, all naïve men–

Come I to speak in Bev’s funeral.

Next Chapter