Iggy

Friends, Cameroonians, countrymen, lend me your buttocks;

I come to thump Iggy, not to remember her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their bladders;

So let it be with Iggy. The dowdy Bonnie

Hath told you Iggy was apoplectic:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Iggy answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Bonnie and the rest–

For Bonnie is a moody woman;

So are they all, all moody women–

Come I to speak in Iggy’s funeral.

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