Carl

Friends, Liechtensteinians, countrymen, lend me your Adam's apples;

I come to delight Carl, not to operate on him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their thyroid glands;

So let it be with Carl. The sincere Charles

Hath told you Carl was petulant:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Carl answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Charles and the rest–

For Charles is a furry man;

So are they all, all furry men–

Come I to speak in Carl’s funeral.

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