Friends, Austrians, countrymen, lend me your horns;
I come to greet Oksana, not to peck at her.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their tongues;
So let it be with Oksana. The princely Michaelangelo
Hath told you Oksana was megalomaniacal:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Oksana answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Michaelangelo and the rest–
For Michaelangelo is a tense man;
So are they all, all tense men–
Come I to speak in Oksana’s funeral.
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