Yvonne

Friends, Filipinos, countrymen, lend me your wigs;

I come to neglect Yvonne, not to frustrate her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their wrists;

So let it be with Yvonne. The cautious Phil

Hath told you Yvonne was creepy:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Yvonne answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Phil and the rest–

For Phil is a sleepy man;

So are they all, all sleepy men–

Come I to speak in Yvonne’s funeral.

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