Giovanni

Friends, Georgians, countrymen, lend me your veins;

I come to befuddle Giovanni, not to kick him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their biceps;

So let it be with Giovanni. The talkative Carolyn

Hath told you Giovanni was spindly:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Giovanni answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Carolyn and the rest–

For Carolyn is a witty woman;

So are they all, all witty women–

Come I to speak in Giovanni’s funeral.

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