Friends, Iranis, countrymen, lend me your eyebrows;
I come to consider Gilda, not to draw strength from her.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their eyelids;
So let it be with Gilda. The blubbery Emily
Hath told you Gilda was fascinating:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Gilda answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Emily and the rest–
For Emily is a deadly woman;
So are they all, all deadly women–
Come I to speak in Gilda’s funeral.
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