Norma

Friends, Ethopians, countrymen, lend me your fingers;

I come to touch Norma, not to argue with her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their stomachs;

So let it be with Norma. The hysterical Kami

Hath told you Norma was corpulent:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Norma answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Kami and the rest–

For Kami is a vivacious woman;

So are they all, all vivacious women–

Come I to speak in Norma’s funeral.

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