Friends, Turks, countrymen, lend me your front teeth;
I come to get to know Del, not to rebuff him.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their feet;
So let it be with Del. The vile Francie
Hath told you Del was maniacal:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Del answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Francie and the rest–
For Francie is a peculiar woman;
So are they all, all peculiar women–
Come I to speak in Del’s funeral.
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