Friends, Turks, countrymen, lend me your hair;
I come to disinfect Velma, not to snuggle with her.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their foreheads;
So let it be with Velma. The angry Cinderella
Hath told you Velma was noxious:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Velma answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Cinderella and the rest–
For Cinderella is a polite woman;
So are they all, all polite women–
Come I to speak in Velma’s funeral.
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