Open your ears; for which of you will stop The vent of hearing when loud Rumour speaks? I, from the orient to the drooping west, Making the wind my post-horse, still unfold The acts commenced on this ball of earth: Upon my tongues continual slanders ride, The which in every language I pronounce, Stuffing the ears of men with false reports. I speak of peace, while covert enmity Under the smile of safety wounds the world: And who but Rumour, who but only I, Make fearful musters and prepared defence, Whiles the big year, swoln with some other grief, Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war, And no such matter? Rumour is a pipe Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures And of so easy and so plain a stop That the blunt monster with uncounted heads, The still-discordant wavering multitude, Can play upon it. But what need I thus My well-known body to anatomize Among my household? Why is Rumour here?

Mediji	Grāmatas Paperback Book (Grāmata ar mīksto vāku un līmēto muguru)
Izlaists	2018. gada 24. septembris
ISBN13	9781727491869
Izdevēji	Createspace Independent Publishing Platf
Lapas	198
Izmēri	151 × 229 × 10 mm · 272 g
Valoda	Angļu