Joanne

Friends, Portuguese, countrymen, lend me your teeth;

I come to delight Joanne, not to look at her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their feet;

So let it be with Joanne. The talkative Jay

Hath told you Joanne was cautious:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Joanne answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Jay and the rest–

For Jay is a dark man;

So are they all, all dark men–

Come I to speak in Joanne’s funeral.

Next Chapter