Friends, Chinese, countrymen, lend me your tummies;
I come to spill an iced tea on Seema, not to oppose her.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their earlobes;
So let it be with Seema. The tactful Jean
Hath told you Seema was impish:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Seema answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Jean and the rest–
For Jean is an excitable woman;
So are they all, all excitable women–
Come I to speak in Seema’s funeral.
Next Chapter