Pleasance

Friends, Czechs, countrymen, lend me your pituitary glands;

I come to cozy up to Pleasance, not to dance with her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their skins;

So let it be with Pleasance. The friendly Fifi

Hath told you Pleasance was silly:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Pleasance answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Fifi and the rest–

For Fifi is an insane woman;

So are they all, all insane women–

Come I to speak in Pleasance’s funeral.

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