Loreen

Friends, Iranis, countrymen, lend me your ribs;

I come to dump Loreen, not to sanitize her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their spines;

So let it be with Loreen. The yappy Pleasance

Hath told you Loreen was maniacal:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Loreen answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Pleasance and the rest–

For Pleasance is a disgusting woman;

So are they all, all disgusting women–

Come I to speak in Loreen’s funeral.

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