Floyd

Friends, Poles, countrymen, lend me your abdomens;

I come to annoy Floyd, not to outrun him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their skins;

So let it be with Floyd. The intrepid Stella

Hath told you Floyd was sleek:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Floyd answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Stella and the rest–

For Stella is an energetic woman;

So are they all, all energetic women–

Come I to speak in Floyd’s funeral.

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