Lauren

Friends, Czechs, countrymen, lend me your skulls;

I come to sneer at Lauren, not to shock her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their toes;

So let it be with Lauren. The yappy Chad

Hath told you Lauren was proud:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Lauren answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Chad and the rest–

For Chad is a young man;

So are they all, all young men–

Come I to speak in Lauren’s funeral.

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