Midge

Friends, Congolese, countrymen, lend me your tongues;

I come to massage Midge, not to aggravate her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their hairdos;

So let it be with Midge. The cruel Fran

Hath told you Midge was mean:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Midge answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Fran and the rest–

For Fran is a loving woman;

So are they all, all loving women–

Come I to speak in Midge’s funeral.

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