Rewrite this story

Giselle

Friends, Equadorans, countrymen, lend me your ears;

I come to belittle Giselle, not to bore her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their beards;

So let it be with Giselle. The shy Abbie

Hath told you Giselle was choleric:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Giselle answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Abbie and the rest–

For Abbie is a haggard woman;

So are they all, all haggard women–

Come I to speak in Giselle’s funeral.

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