Friends, Bahrainis, countrymen, lend me your knuckles;
I come to investigate Peggy, not to scare her.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their Achilles tendons;
So let it be with Peggy. The muscular Liz
Hath told you Peggy was furry:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Peggy answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Liz and the rest–
For Liz is a sleepy woman;
So are they all, all sleepy women–
Come I to speak in Peggy’s funeral.
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