Velma

Friends, Turks, countrymen, lend me your hair;

I come to disinfect Velma, not to snuggle with her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their foreheads;

So let it be with Velma. The angry Cinderella

Hath told you Velma was noxious:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Velma answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Cinderella and the rest–

For Cinderella is a polite woman;

So are they all, all polite women–

Come I to speak in Velma’s funeral.

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