Lorena

Friends, Bolivians, countrymen, lend me your pinkies;

I come to cover Lorena, not to trip her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their foreheads;

So let it be with Lorena. The mindless Kellen

Hath told you Lorena was pert:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Lorena answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Kellen and the rest–

For Kellen is a paranoid man;

So are they all, all paranoid men–

Come I to speak in Lorena’s funeral.

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