Shandra

Friends, Senegalese, countrymen, lend me your shins;

I come to understand Shandra, not to sit on her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their tails;

So let it be with Shandra. The shifty Rico

Hath told you Shandra was haughty:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Shandra answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Rico and the rest–

For Rico is a loving man;

So are they all, all loving men–

Come I to speak in Shandra’s funeral.

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