Bert

Friends, Lebanese, countrymen, lend me your thighs;

I come to question Bert, not to study him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their necks;

So let it be with Bert. The dumb Lex

Hath told you Bert was cuddly:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Bert answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Lex and the rest–

For Lex is a high-strung man;

So are they all, all high-strung men–

Come I to speak in Bert’s funeral.

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