The fool multitude, that choose by show, not learning more than the fond eye doth teach.

Is not the truth the truth?

O, how full of briers is this working-day world!

Dissembling courtesy! How fine this tyrant can trickle when she wounds!

And teach me how To name the bigger light, and how the less, That burn by day and night.

Rumour doth double, like the voice and echo, The numbers of the feared.

We will have rings and things and fine array