Blanca

Friends, Haitians, countrymen, lend me your guts;

I come to mess with Blanca, not to whisper to her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their eyelashes;

So let it be with Blanca. The boring Calista

Hath told you Blanca was rugged:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Blanca answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Calista and the rest–

For Calista is an agile woman;

So are they all, all agile women–

Come I to speak in Blanca’s funeral.

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