Belle

Friends, Namibians, countrymen, lend me your fingers;

I come to mislead Belle, not to wink at her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their bladders;

So let it be with Belle. The lively Jess

Hath told you Belle was rapacious:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Belle answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Jess and the rest–

For Jess is an intelligent man;

So are they all, all intelligent men–

Come I to speak in Belle’s funeral.

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