Lauren

Friends, Ethopians, countrymen, lend me your esophaguses;

I come to fight with Lauren, not to play with her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their little fingers;

So let it be with Lauren. The confident Geraldine

Hath told you Lauren was humble:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Lauren answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Geraldine and the rest–

For Geraldine is a polite woman;

So are they all, all polite women–

Come I to speak in Lauren’s funeral.

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