Gladys

Friends, Frenchmen, countrymen, lend me your buttocks;

I come to bore Gladys, not to mock her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their midriffs;

So let it be with Gladys. The bald Grover

Hath told you Gladys was yappy:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Gladys answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Grover and the rest–

For Grover is a bold man;

So are they all, all bold men–

Come I to speak in Gladys’s funeral.

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