Leslie

Friends, Albanians, countrymen, lend me your larynxes;

I come to tickle Leslie, not to hug her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their midriffs;

So let it be with Leslie. The wily Fred

Hath told you Leslie was mean:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Leslie answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Fred and the rest–

For Fred is a tall man;

So are they all, all tall men–

Come I to speak in Leslie’s funeral.

Next Chapter