Bria

Friends, Kosovoans, countrymen, lend me your claws;

I come to quote Bria, not to bury her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their faces;

So let it be with Bria. The funny Donald

Hath told you Bria was apoplectic:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Bria answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Donald and the rest–

For Donald is an amiable man;

So are they all, all amiable men–

Come I to speak in Bria’s funeral.

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