Kelly

Friends, Vietnamese, countrymen, lend me your abdomens;

I come to write Kelly, not to quiet her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their pieholes;

So let it be with Kelly. The hungry Larry

Hath told you Kelly was hungry:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Kelly answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Larry and the rest–

For Larry is a gallant man;

So are they all, all gallant men–

Come I to speak in Kelly’s funeral.

Next Chapter