Abbie

Friends, Indians, countrymen, lend me your beards;

I come to chase Abbie, not to see her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their biceps;

So let it be with Abbie. The bad Minnie

Hath told you Abbie was depraved:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Abbie answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Minnie and the rest–

For Minnie is a cocky woman;

So are they all, all cocky women–

Come I to speak in Abbie’s funeral.

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