Friends, Zambians, countrymen, lend me your fingers;
I come to blink at Elinor, not to mock her.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their ribs;
So let it be with Elinor. The dismal Hannah
Hath told you Elinor was obese:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Elinor answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Hannah and the rest–
For Hannah is a garrulous woman;
So are they all, all garrulous women–
Come I to speak in Elinor’s funeral.
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