Tracy

Friends, Bahrainis, countrymen, lend me your lungs;

I come to slap Tracy, not to frustrate her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their gall bladders;

So let it be with Tracy. The cocky Geraldo

Hath told you Tracy was brazen:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Tracy answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Geraldo and the rest–

For Geraldo is a cunning man;

So are they all, all cunning men–

Come I to speak in Tracy’s funeral.

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