Conrad

Friends, Canadians, countrymen, lend me your brains;

I come to appease Conrad, not to consider him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their beards;

So let it be with Conrad. The colorless Iggy

Hath told you Conrad was pensive:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Conrad answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Iggy and the rest–

For Iggy is a crafty woman;

So are they all, all crafty women–

Come I to speak in Conrad’s funeral.

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