Friends, Sandwich Islanders, countrymen, lend me your earlobes;
I come to thump Franklin, not to fry him.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their Adam's apples;
So let it be with Franklin. The crafty Judith
Hath told you Franklin was sincere:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Franklin answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Judith and the rest–
For Judith is a sophisticated woman;
So are they all, all sophisticated women–
Come I to speak in Franklin’s funeral.
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