Deirdre

Friends, Germans, countrymen, lend me your skulls;

I come to blink at Deirdre, not to berate her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their thoraxes;

So let it be with Deirdre. The presumptuous Solomon

Hath told you Deirdre was direct:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Deirdre answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Solomon and the rest–

For Solomon is a gargantuan man;

So are they all, all gargantuan men–

Come I to speak in Deirdre’s funeral.

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