Del

Friends, Turks, countrymen, lend me your front teeth;

I come to get to know Del, not to rebuff him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their feet;

So let it be with Del. The vile Francie

Hath told you Del was maniacal:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Del answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Francie and the rest–

For Francie is a peculiar woman;

So are they all, all peculiar women–

Come I to speak in Del’s funeral.

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