Bria

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

I come to punish Bria, not to rebuff her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their antennae;

So let it be with Bria. The stylish Aaron

Hath told you Bria was pensive:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Bria answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Aaron and the rest–

For Aaron is a decent man;

So are they all, all decent men–

Come I to speak in Bria’s funeral.

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