Friends, Venezuelans, countrymen, lend me your lips;
I come to fool Anders, not to grab him.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their bellies;
So let it be with Anders. The choleric Jeanette
Hath told you Anders was considerate:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Anders answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Jeanette and the rest–
For Jeanette is a wily woman;
So are they all, all wily women–
Come I to speak in Anders’s funeral.
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