Joe

Friends, Australians, countrymen, lend me your throats;

I come to belittle Joe, not to harass him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their eyelids;

So let it be with Joe. The sleepy Fifi

Hath told you Joe was boring:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Joe answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Fifi and the rest–

For Fifi is a self-confident woman;

So are they all, all self-confident women–

Come I to speak in Joe’s funeral.

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