Georgina

Friends, Zambians, countrymen, lend me your wigs;

I come to try to control Georgina, not to text her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their eyelashes;

So let it be with Georgina. The stubby Helmut

Hath told you Georgina was comely:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Georgina answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Helmut and the rest–

For Helmut is a rude man;

So are they all, all rude men–

Come I to speak in Georgina’s funeral.

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