Scotty

Friends, Ugandans, countrymen, lend me your cheeks;

I come to stare at Scotty, not to stop him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their arms;

So let it be with Scotty. The fuzzy Roberta

Hath told you Scotty was clever:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Scotty answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Roberta and the rest–

For Roberta is a resolute woman;

So are they all, all resolute women–

Come I to speak in Scotty’s funeral.

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