Cherise

Friends, Slovenians, countrymen, lend me your throats;

I come to fool Cherise, not to outrun her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their feet;

So let it be with Cherise. The energetic Ole

Hath told you Cherise was apoplectic:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Cherise answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Ole and the rest–

For Ole is a careful man;

So are they all, all careful men–

Come I to speak in Cherise’s funeral.

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