Then Will I Raise Aloft The Milk-white

My Liege, And Madam, To Expostulate What Majesty Should Be, What Duty Is, Why Day Is Day, Night Night, And Time Is Time, Were Nothing But To Waste Night, Day And Time. Therefore, Since Brevity Is The Soul Of Wit, And Tediousness The Limbs And Outward Flourishes, I Will Be Brief.

He Is Not Worthy Of The Honey-comb, That Shuns The Hives Because The Bees Have Stings.

Dreams, Indeed, Are Ambition; For The Very Substance Of The Ambitious Is Merely The Shadow Of A Dream. And I Hold Ambition Of So Airy And Light A Quality That It Is But A Shadow's Shadow.

The Hebrew Will Turn Christian; He Grows Kind.

To Show Our Simple Skill, That Is The True Beginning Of Our End.