Harley

Friends, Kazakhstanis, countrymen, lend me your bladders;

I come to shun Harley, not to compliment him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their wrists;

So let it be with Harley. The mindless Fawn

Hath told you Harley was athletic:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Harley answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Fawn and the rest–

For Fawn is an idiotic woman;

So are they all, all idiotic women–

Come I to speak in Harley’s funeral.

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