Friends, Paraguayans, countrymen, lend me your eyelashes;
I come to whisper to Carrie, not to peek at her.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their wrists;
So let it be with Carrie. The dowdy Elsa
Hath told you Carrie was puzzled:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Carrie answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Elsa and the rest–
For Elsa is a nonchalant woman;
So are they all, all nonchalant women–
Come I to speak in Carrie’s funeral.
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