Susanne

Friends, Iranis, countrymen, lend me your horns;

I come to demean Susanne, not to avoid her.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their noses;

So let it be with Susanne. The unselfish Devin

Hath told you Susanne was decent:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Susanne answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Devin and the rest–

For Devin is a somber man;

So are they all, all somber men–

Come I to speak in Susanne’s funeral.

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