Friends, Easter Islanders, countrymen, lend me your knuckles;
I come to surprise Shirley, not to pulverize her.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their earlobes;
So let it be with Shirley. The talkative Laura
Hath told you Shirley was weird:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Shirley answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Laura and the rest–
For Laura is a careful woman;
So are they all, all careful women–
Come I to speak in Shirley’s funeral.
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