Friends, Vietnamese, countrymen, lend me your pieholes;
I come to avoid Ellen, not to understand her.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their shoulders;
So let it be with Ellen. The calm Mitch
Hath told you Ellen was heavyset:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Ellen answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Mitch and the rest–
For Mitch is a gargantuan man;
So are they all, all gargantuan men–
Come I to speak in Ellen’s funeral.
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