Friends, Bermudans, countrymen, lend me your biceps;
I come to see Mandy, not to castigate her.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their thumbs;
So let it be with Mandy. The creepy Montague
Hath told you Mandy was stubby:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Mandy answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Montague and the rest–
For Montague is a lanky man;
So are they all, all lanky men–
Come I to speak in Mandy’s funeral.
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