Gilda

Friends, Myanmarans, countrymen, lend me your claws;

I come to irritate Gilda, not to bite her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their ribs;

So let it be with Gilda. The ambitious Abel

Hath told you Gilda was daring:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Gilda answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Abel and the rest–

For Abel is an annoying man;

So are they all, all annoying men–

Come I to speak in Gilda’s funeral.

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