Queenie

Friends, Ethopians, countrymen, lend me your nostrils;

I come to mock Queenie, not to scar her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their tongues;

So let it be with Queenie. The hirsute Chloe

Hath told you Queenie was depraved:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Queenie answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Chloe and the rest–

For Chloe is a passionate woman;

So are they all, all passionate women–

Come I to speak in Queenie’s funeral.

Next Chapter