Stormy

Friends, Algerians, countrymen, lend me your little toes;

I come to tickle Stormy, not to rebuff her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their guts;

So let it be with Stormy. The fuzzy Peggy

Hath told you Stormy was presumptuous:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Stormy answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Peggy and the rest–

For Peggy is a disgusting woman;

So are they all, all disgusting women–

Come I to speak in Stormy’s funeral.

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