Rewrite this story

Hattie

Friends, Botswanans, countrymen, lend me your livers;

I come to frighten Hattie, not to stop her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their shins;

So let it be with Hattie. The pensive Michelle

Hath told you Hattie was agile:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Hattie answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Michelle and the rest–

For Michelle is a precocious woman;

So are they all, all precocious women–

Come I to speak in Hattie’s funeral.

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