Et tu, W?

Friends, Americans, bloggers, lend me your ears
I come to bury Miers, not to confirm her.
The evil that Justices do lives after them;
The good is oft preserved by rejecting their nominations;
So let it be with Miers.

The noble Bush hath told you Harriet is conservative;
If it be so, 'tis a glorious qualification,
And gloriously may Miers in her hearings answer it.
Here, under leave of Bush and the rest,--
For Bush is an honorable man;
So are they all, all honorable men,--
Come I to speak before Miers' hearings.

She was an unknown, undistinguished and of no importance to me:
But Bush says she is conservative;
And Bush is an honorable man.
She hath brought unqualified minorities home to our universities,
Whose enrollments did diversity expand:
Did this in Miers seem conservative?
When that the gay lobby whined, Miers hath responded;
Conservatism should be made of sterner stuff:
Yet Bush says she is a conservative;
And Bush is an honorable man.

You all did see that during her career
I thrice presented her with membership in the Federalist Society,
Which she did thrice refuse: was this conservative?
Yet Bush says she is conservative,
And, sure, he is an honorable man.

I speak not to disprove what Bush spoke,
But here I am to speak what I do know.
You all had never heard of her once,--not without cause:
What cause forces, then, to confirm her?
O judgment, thou art fled to brutish beasts,
And Senators have lost their reason!
Bear with me;
My heart is in the coffin there with the Constitution;
And I must pause till it come back to me.

Bainbridge: Methinks there is much reason in his sayings.

Patterico:
If thou consider rightly of the matter,
Miers is a great wrong.

Feddie:
Is she, masters? I fear there will a worse come in her place.

Angry Clam:
Mark'd ye his words? She would not take membership with the Federalists;
Therefore 'tis certain she is not conservative.

Bainbridge:
If it be found so, many will not abide it.

Patterico:
Poor soul! his eyes are red as fire with weeping.

Feddie:
There's not a nobler man in America than Dylan.

Patterico:
Now mark him, he begins again to speak.

But yesterday any word of Miers might
Have gone unnoticed in all the world: now stands she there,
And none so desperate they will not do her reverence.
O masters, if I were dispos'd to stir
Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage,
I should do Bush wrong, and Hewitt wrong,
Who, you all know, are honorable men.

But here's a parchment with the seal of Miers--
I found it in Hecht's closet--'tis her will:
Let but the liberals hear this testament--
Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read--
And they would go and kiss old Mier's hand,
And dip their noses in her sacred posterior;

Yea, beg a hair of her for memory,
And, dying, mention it within their wills,
Bequesting it as a rich legacy
Unto any issue they have not aborted.

Bainbridge: We'll hear the will: read it, Dylan!

RW blogosphere: The will, the will! we will hear Miers' will.

Have patience, gentle friends, I must not read it;
It is not meet that you know how Miers will vote.
You are not of Woodstock, you are not stoners, but free men;
And, being free men, hearing the will of Miers,
It will inflame you--it will make you mad:
'Tis good you know not that you are the Court's slaves;
For, if you should, O what would come if it!

Bainbridge:
Read the will; we'll hear it, Dylan;
You shall read us the will--Miers' will.

Will you be patient? will you stay awhile?
I have o'ershot myself to tell you of it:
I fear I wrong the honorable men
Whose words have nominated and supported Miers; I do fear it.

Patterico: They were traitors: honorable men!

RW blogosphere: The will! the testament!

Angry Clam:
They were villains, murderers of conservatism: the will! read the will!

You will compel me, then, to read the will?
Then make a ring about the corse of Luttig,
And let me show you him that made way for her will.
If you have tears, prepare to shed them now.

You all do know this robe: I remember
The last time ever Luttig tried it on;
'Twas on a summer's evening, in his chambers,
That day before she received the nomination:--
Look! In this place ran Hewitt's dagger through:
See what a rent the envious Beldar made:
Through this the well-beloved Bush stabb'd:
And, as he pluck'd his cursed hand away,
Mark how the blood of conservatives follow'd it,
As rushing out of doors, to be resolv'd
If Bush so unkindly knock'd or no;
For Bush, as you know, was conservatism's angel:
Judge, O you Republican senators, how dearly conservatives loved him!

This was the most unkindest cut of all;
For when the noble conservatives saw him stab,
Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms,
Not quite vanquish'd them: then burst their mighty rage;
And, with their hands covering their shocked visages,
Even at the base of Lincoln's statua,
Which all the while ran white in embarrassment, the great conservatives rose up.

O, what a wailing there was, my countrymen!
Then I, and you, and all of us rose up,
Whilst cowardly treason flourish'd over us.
O, now you weep; and I perceive you feel
The dint of pity: these are gracious drops.
Kind souls, what, weep you when you but behold
Our Miers' investure impending? Look you here,
Here is herself, support'd, as you see, by traitors.

Bainbridge: O piteous spectacle!

Feddie: O noble Luttig!

Patterico: O woeful day!

Angry Clam: O traitors, villains!

Bainbridge: O most bloody sight!

Angry Clam:
We will be revenged: revenge--about--seek--burn--fire--kill--slay--let not a traitor live!

Stay, countrymen.

Bainbridge: Peace there! hear the noble Dylan.

Feddie: We'll hear him, we'll follow him, we'll die with him.

Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up
To such a sudden flood of mutiny.
They that have done this deed are honorable;
What private motives they have, alas, I know not,
That made them do it,--they are wise and honorable,
And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you.

I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts:
I am no orator, as Bush is;
But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man,
That hates this nominee, and that they know full well
That gave me public leave to speak of her:
For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,
Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech,
To stir senator's votes: I only speak right on;
I tell you that which you yourselves do know;
Show you sweet Harriet's resume, poor poor dumb mouths,
And bid them speak for me: but were I Bush,
And Bush Dylan, there were a Dylan
Would ruffle up your spirits, and put a tongue
In every wound of Luttig, that should move
The stones of the Senate chamber to rise and mutiny.

Bainbridge: We'll burn the house of Bush.

Feddie: Away, then! come seek the conspirators.

Yet hear me, countrymen; yet hear me speak.

RW blogosphere:
Peace, ho! hear Dylan, most noble Dylan.

Why, friends, you go to do you know not what:
Wherein hath Miers thus deserv'd your hates?
Alas, you know not--I must tell you, then--
You have forgot the will I told you of.

RW blogosphere:
Most true--the will--let's stay and hear the will.

Here is the will and under Miers' seal.
To every Muslim citizen she gives,
To every several-times married man, seventy-five years in prison.

Malkin: Most noble Miers!--we'll praise her nomination.
Andrew Sullivan: Oh, shit.

Hear me with patience.

RW Blogosphere: Peace, ho!

Moreover, she will leave you scenic supervised walks at Gitmo,
Her personal policy preferences, and newly performed gay marriages
On this side of the Mason-Dixon line, she has left them you,
And to your heirs forever, abortion on demand,
To walk abroad and procreate yourself at no cost.
Here is Miers! when comes such another?

Patterico:
Soon, soon.--Come away, away!
We'll burn her nomination in the pretentious place,
And with the brands fire the traitors' reelection campaigns.
Take up the nominee.

Feddie: Go, fetch fire.

Bainbridge: Pluck down benches.

Angry Clam: Pluck down forms, windows, living Constitutions, anything. [Exeunt RW Blogosphere with the nominee.]

Now let it work: mischief, thou art afoot.
Take thou what course thou wilt!

[See, also.]

Update: This has admitted gone through at least a dozen minor modifications as I substitute more appropriate synonyms, fix awkward (or at least not authentically Shakespearianly awkward) phrasings, and tighten the language. I believe nothing major has been lost, however, and that all of the changes are to the good.