Ellen

Friends, Vietnamese, countrymen, lend me your pieholes;

I come to avoid Ellen, not to understand her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their shoulders;

So let it be with Ellen. The calm Mitch

Hath told you Ellen was heavyset:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Ellen answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Mitch and the rest–

For Mitch is a gargantuan man;

So are they all, all gargantuan men–

Come I to speak in Ellen’s funeral.

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