Madeline

Friends, South Africans, countrymen, lend me your hangnails;

I come to aggravate Madeline, not to split up with her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their elbows;

So let it be with Madeline. The quiet Cindy

Hath told you Madeline was yappy:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Madeline answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Cindy and the rest–

For Cindy is a moronic woman;

So are they all, all moronic women–

Come I to speak in Madeline’s funeral.

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