Alison

Friends, Spaniards, countrymen, lend me your fingers;

I come to have a talk with Alison, not to stump her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their heels;

So let it be with Alison. The jaunty Phyllis

Hath told you Alison was vile:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Alison answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Phyllis and the rest–

For Phyllis is a dismal woman;

So are they all, all dismal women–

Come I to speak in Alison’s funeral.

Next Chapter