On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth
So great an object: Can this cockpit hold
The vasty fields of France? or may we cram
Within this wooden O, the very casques
That did affright the air at Agincourt?
Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts,
Into a thousand parts divide one man;
Think, when we talk of horses, that you see them
Printing their proud hoofs i’ the receiving earth,
For ’tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings,