Theresa

Friends, Nicaraguans, countrymen, lend me your skulls;

I come to mislead Theresa, not to smile at her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their hair;

So let it be with Theresa. The wizened Lizzie

Hath told you Theresa was silly:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Theresa answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Lizzie and the rest–

For Lizzie is a sassy woman;

So are they all, all sassy women–

Come I to speak in Theresa’s funeral.

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