Klaus

Friends, Italians, countrymen, lend me your nostrils;

I come to belittle Klaus, not to marry him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their heads;

So let it be with Klaus. The dark Mark

Hath told you Klaus was yappy:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Klaus answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Mark and the rest–

For Mark is an absent-minded man;

So are they all, all absent-minded men–

Come I to speak in Klaus’s funeral.

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