Marv

Friends, Iraqis, countrymen, lend me your fingers;

I come to delight Marv, not to charm him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their thumbs;

So let it be with Marv. The obese Joshua

Hath told you Marv was crazy:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Marv answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Joshua and the rest–

For Joshua is a miniscule man;

So are they all, all miniscule men–

Come I to speak in Marv’s funeral.

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