Samuel

Friends, Czechs, countrymen, lend me your eyes;

I come to imitate Samuel, not to bump him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their backs;

So let it be with Samuel. The relaxed Charlene

Hath told you Samuel was stubborn:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Samuel answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Charlene and the rest–

For Charlene is a somber woman;

So are they all, all somber women–

Come I to speak in Samuel’s funeral.

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