Josephine

Friends, New Guineans, countrymen, lend me your thoraxes;

I come to dance with Josephine, not to sing to her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their shoulders;

So let it be with Josephine. The merry Agnes

Hath told you Josephine was energetic:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Josephine answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Agnes and the rest–

For Agnes is a noble woman;

So are they all, all noble women–

Come I to speak in Josephine’s funeral.

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