Anastasia

Friends, Koreans, countrymen, lend me your ankles;

I come to lick Anastasia, not to blink at her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their shoulders;

So let it be with Anastasia. The daring Dylan

Hath told you Anastasia was sweet:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Anastasia answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Dylan and the rest–

For Dylan is a young man;

So are they all, all young men–

Come I to speak in Anastasia’s funeral.

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