Speak Me Fair In Death.

Is It Possible He Should Know What He Is, And Be That He Is?

So Distribution Should Undo Excess, And Each Man Have Enough.

Through Tattered Clothes, Small Vices Do Appear. Robes And Furred Gowns Hide All.

No Doubt They Rose Up Early To Observe The Rite Of May; And, Hearing Our Intent, Came Here In Grace Of Our Solemnity.

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.