Friends, Guatemalans, countrymen, lend me your shoulders;
I come to reassure Hildegarde, not to frustrate her.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their dignity;
So let it be with Hildegarde. The slimy Marcy
Hath told you Hildegarde was colorless:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Hildegarde answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Marcy and the rest–
For Marcy is a radiant woman;
So are they all, all radiant women–
Come I to speak in Hildegarde’s funeral.
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