JD

Friends, Lower Slobbovians, countrymen, lend me your front teeth;

I come to deceive JD, not to peck at him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their pancreases;

So let it be with JD. The wizened Angelo

Hath told you JD was fearless:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath JD answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Angelo and the rest–

For Angelo is a phlegmatic man;

So are they all, all phlegmatic men–

Come I to speak in JD’s funeral.

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