Brandie

Friends, Bulgarians, countrymen, lend me your elbows;

I come to mock Brandie, not to smile at her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their palms;

So let it be with Brandie. The cruel Giselle

Hath told you Brandie was shiftless:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Brandie answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Giselle and the rest–

For Giselle is an apoplectic woman;

So are they all, all apoplectic women–

Come I to speak in Brandie’s funeral.

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