Friends, Kazakhstanis, countrymen, lend me your toes;
I come to satisfy Milton, not to spank him.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their hangnails;
So let it be with Milton. The evil Evette
Hath told you Milton was resolute:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Milton answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Evette and the rest–
For Evette is a garrulous woman;
So are they all, all garrulous women–
Come I to speak in Milton’s funeral.
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