Victoria

Friends, Danes, countrymen, lend me your bellies;

I come to mislead Victoria, not to pick her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their shins;

So let it be with Victoria. The noxious Smiley

Hath told you Victoria was heavyset:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Victoria answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Smiley and the rest–

For Smiley is a comely man;

So are they all, all comely men–

Come I to speak in Victoria’s funeral.

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