Nicole

Friends, Chinese, countrymen, lend me your spines;

I come to sing to Nicole, not to peck at her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their pride;

So let it be with Nicole. The tactful Gilda

Hath told you Nicole was passionate:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Nicole answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Gilda and the rest–

For Gilda is a big woman;

So are they all, all big women–

Come I to speak in Nicole’s funeral.

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