Once more unto the bleach, dear friends, once more;
Or close the wards up with our English dead.
In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man
As armchair epidemiology:
But when data galore blow in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the ostrich;

1/6

Ignore science, sink in the sand our heads,
Disdain fair logic or hard-favour'd Sage;
Don’t lend the facts legitimate aspect
That fly from the portage of the head
Like the brash gammon; disavow, o'erwhelm them
As fearfully as doth a galled rock

O'erhang and jutty his confounded base,
Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean.
Now shut up shop, and stretch the nostril wide,
Hold hard the breath, and call up every bigot
From his dull plight. On, on, you noblest Tories,
Whose intellect from science and judgement

Was all quite proof ne’er these four weeks past;
Grifters that, like so many braggadocios,
Who in these parts from birth scarce e’er gave thought,
Nor sheathed their wits for lack of argument,
Stand now accused of giving in to science.
Be copy now to men of thinner blood,

And teach them how to jaw. And you, good yeoman,
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath that contrary spite in your eyes.

I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry ‘God for Boris, U-turn, and the R’.

With thanks to @Michelangela75 for locating this fine picture of our hero, good Prince Hal, and his hard of thinking retinue.

@JuliaHB1 @ClarkeMicah @allisonpearson @TiceRichard @thecarolemalone apologies for not being able to tag you.
Good luck with all the flat earth stuff.