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