Chelsea

Friends, Norwegians, countrymen, lend me your eyes;

I come to spank Chelsea, not to neglect her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their hands;

So let it be with Chelsea. The urbane Joyce

Hath told you Chelsea was menacing:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Chelsea answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Joyce and the rest–

For Joyce is a sassy woman;

So are they all, all sassy women–

Come I to speak in Chelsea’s funeral.

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