Nora

Friends, Botswanans, countrymen, lend me your noses;

I come to imitate Nora, not to frown at her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their carotid arteries;

So let it be with Nora. The dreadful Marya

Hath told you Nora was freakish:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Nora answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Marya and the rest–

For Marya is a high-strung woman;

So are they all, all high-strung women–

Come I to speak in Nora’s funeral.

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