Kirsten

Friends, Azerbaijanis, countrymen, lend me your tongues;

I come to dismay Kirsten, not to correct her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their hands;

So let it be with Kirsten. The grizzled Clifford

Hath told you Kirsten was fiendish:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Kirsten answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Clifford and the rest–

For Clifford is a noxious man;

So are they all, all noxious men–

Come I to speak in Kirsten’s funeral.

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