Lucille

Friends, Somalians, countrymen, lend me your ribs;

I come to compliment Lucille, not to outrun her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their buttocks;

So let it be with Lucille. The gallant Loretta

Hath told you Lucille was affable:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Lucille answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Loretta and the rest–

For Loretta is a considerate woman;

So are they all, all considerate women–

Come I to speak in Lucille’s funeral.

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