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<T 2H4><L 1><Y Q><P A2><C >
<D {Enter Rumour painted full of Tongues}.>
Open your eares; for which of you will stop
*The vent of hearing, when lowd Rumor speaks?
I from the Orient to the drooping West,
(Making the wind my poste-#horse) still vnfold
The acts commenced on this ball of earth,
Vpon my tongues continuall slanders ride,
The which in euery language I pronounce,
Stuffing the eares of men with false reports,
I speake of peace while couert enmity,
Vnder the smile of safety, woundes the world:
And who but Rumor, who but onely I,
Make fearefull musters, and prepar'd defence,
Whiles the bigge yeare, swolne with some other griefe,
Is thought with child by the sterne tyrant Warre?
And no such matter. Rumour is a pipe,
Blowne by surmizes, Iealousies coniectures,
And of so easie, and so plaine a stop,
That the blunt monster, with vncounted heads,
The still discordant wau'ring multitude,
Can play vpon it. But what need I thus
(My wel knowne body . . .
