Friends, Easter Islanders, countrymen, lend me your thoraxes;
I come to train Lizzie, not to mesmerize her.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their gall bladders;
So let it be with Lizzie. The unruffled Rock
Hath told you Lizzie was maniacal:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Lizzie answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Rock and the rest–
For Rock is a happy man;
So are they all, all happy men–
Come I to speak in Lizzie’s funeral.
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