Denise

Friends, Bermudans, countrymen, lend me your elbows;

I come to sting Denise, not to fool her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their pancreases;

So let it be with Denise. The sketchy Anders

Hath told you Denise was drowsy:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Denise answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Anders and the rest–

For Anders is a pensive man;

So are they all, all pensive men–

Come I to speak in Denise’s funeral.

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