O, let my books be then the eloquence and dumb presages of my speaking breast.
RUMOUR: "Upon my tongues continual slanders ride, The which in every language I pronounce, Stuffing the ears of men with false reports.
To take arms against a sea of troubles.
Beauty itself doth of itself persuade the eyes of men without an orator.
And how his audit stands who knows, save Heaven?
All offences come from the heart.