Lucky

Friends, Czechs, countrymen, lend me your buttocks;

I come to ridicule Lucky, not to charm him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their chins;

So let it be with Lucky. The cute Lilya

Hath told you Lucky was tense:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Lucky answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Lilya and the rest–

For Lilya is a prissy woman;

So are they all, all prissy women–

Come I to speak in Lucky’s funeral.

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