Friends, Myanmarans, countrymen, lend me your claws;
I come to irritate Gilda, not to bite her.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their ribs;
So let it be with Gilda. The ambitious Abel
Hath told you Gilda was daring:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Gilda answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Abel and the rest–
For Abel is an annoying man;
So are they all, all annoying men–
Come I to speak in Gilda’s funeral.
Next Chapter