Luann

Friends, Swedes, countrymen, lend me your knees;

I come to amuse Luann, not to transform her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their aortas;

So let it be with Luann. The cheerful Blanca

Hath told you Luann was disagreeable:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Luann answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Blanca and the rest–

For Blanca is a witty woman;

So are they all, all witty women–

Come I to speak in Luann’s funeral.

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