Friends, Pakistanis, countrymen, lend me your palms;
I come to leave Shelly, not to fool her.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their foreheads;
So let it be with Shelly. The dismal Elly
Hath told you Shelly was affable:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Shelly answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Elly and the rest–
For Elly is a timid woman;
So are they all, all timid women–
Come I to speak in Shelly’s funeral.
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