So-Yeng

Friends, Albanians, countrymen, lend me your abdomens;

I come to scratch So-Yeng, not to mesmerize her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their belly buttons;

So let it be with So-Yeng. The sexy Cassandra

Hath told you So-Yeng was fashionable:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath So-Yeng answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Cassandra and the rest–

For Cassandra is an enraged woman;

So are they all, all enraged women–

Come I to speak in So-Yeng’s funeral.

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