Dinah

Friends, Norwegians, countrymen, lend me your feet;

I come to joke with Dinah, not to write her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their toenails;

So let it be with Dinah. The cheerful Francisco

Hath told you Dinah was hysterical:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Dinah answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Francisco and the rest–

For Francisco is a deadly man;

So are they all, all deadly men–

Come I to speak in Dinah’s funeral.

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