Charlene

Friends, Congolese, countrymen, lend me your chins;

I come to cover Charlene, not to speak to her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their eyebrows;

So let it be with Charlene. The hairy Tim

Hath told you Charlene was daring:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Charlene answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Tim and the rest–

For Tim is a dignified man;

So are they all, all dignified men–

Come I to speak in Charlene’s funeral.

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