Alexei

Friends, Bangladeshis, countrymen, lend me your eyelashes;

I come to subdue Alexei, not to bore him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their wigs;

So let it be with Alexei. The ambitious Ian

Hath told you Alexei was thoughtful:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Alexei answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Ian and the rest–

For Ian is a haughty man;

So are they all, all haughty men–

Come I to speak in Alexei’s funeral.

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