Friends, Poles, countrymen, lend me your abdomens;
I come to annoy Floyd, not to outrun him.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their skins;
So let it be with Floyd. The intrepid Stella
Hath told you Floyd was sleek:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Floyd answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Stella and the rest–
For Stella is an energetic woman;
So are they all, all energetic women–
Come I to speak in Floyd’s funeral.
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