Elaine

Friends, Spaniards, countrymen, lend me your belly buttons;

I come to question Elaine, not to speak to her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their skulls;

So let it be with Elaine. The sincere Xaviera

Hath told you Elaine was gallant:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Elaine answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Xaviera and the rest–

For Xaviera is a hairy woman;

So are they all, all hairy women–

Come I to speak in Elaine’s funeral.

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