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My liege, and madam,—to expostulate What majesty should be, what duty is, Why day is day, night is night, and time is time. 95 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:—your noble son is mad: Mad call I it; for to define true madness, 100 What is’t but to be nothing else but mad? But let that go.
‘Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; 125 Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love.