Chad

Friends, Ethopians, countrymen, lend me your funny bones;

I come to outwit Chad, not to care for him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their esophaguses;

So let it be with Chad. The lazy Shawna

Hath told you Chad was rude:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Chad answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Shawna and the rest–

For Shawna is a furious woman;

So are they all, all furious women–

Come I to speak in Chad’s funeral.

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