Enter RUMOUR, painted full of tongues."

[Stage direction, Henry IV, Part 2, Induction]

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.

RUMOUR:
"Upon my tongues continual slanders ride,
The which in every language I pronounce,
Stuffing the ears of men with false reports.

Tale-bearers are as bad as the tale-makers.

People are almost always better than their neighbors think they are.

Here comes a pair of very strange beasts, which in all tongues are called fools.