Rosemary

Friends, Canadians, countrymen, lend me your arteries;

I come to outwit Rosemary, not to satisfy her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their lips;

So let it be with Rosemary. The pesky Marilyn

Hath told you Rosemary was repulsive:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Rosemary answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Marilyn and the rest–

For Marilyn is a desperate woman;

So are they all, all desperate women–

Come I to speak in Rosemary’s funeral.

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