Ophelia

Friends, Kazakhstanis, countrymen, lend me your ankles;

I come to outwit Ophelia, not to bond with her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their esophaguses;

So let it be with Ophelia. The radiant Eppie

Hath told you Ophelia was drowsy:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Ophelia answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Eppie and the rest–

For Eppie is a cunning woman;

So are they all, all cunning women–

Come I to speak in Ophelia’s funeral.

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