Theresa

Friends, Peruvians, countrymen, lend me your aortas;

I come to smile at Theresa, not to pinch her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their femurs;

So let it be with Theresa. The colorless Rosie

Hath told you Theresa was cheerful:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Theresa answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Rosie and the rest–

For Rosie is a self-assured woman;

So are they all, all self-assured women–

Come I to speak in Theresa’s funeral.

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