On Rumor's tongue continual slanders ride.
I heard a bustling rumor like a fray, And the wind blows it from the Capitol.
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.
Rumor is a pipe Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures.