Juan

Friends, Israelis, countrymen, lend me your buttocks;

I come to correct Juan, not to pick him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their chins;

So let it be with Juan. The suave Savannah

Hath told you Juan was lanky:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Juan answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Savannah and the rest–

For Savannah is a sleepy woman;

So are they all, all sleepy women–

Come I to speak in Juan’s funeral.

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