Ladies and gentlemen, you are about to hear the truth of an old legend that has persisted wrongly through the ages; the truth, until now hid behind the embroidered curtain of a rhyme, about the Knave of Hearts, who was no knave but a very hero indeed. The truth, you will agree with me, gentlemen and most honored ladies, is rare! It is only the quiet, unimpassioned things of nature that seem what they are. The high majesty of clouds, rolled in massy radiance against the blue; pines shadowed deep and darkly green, mirrored in still waters; the contemplative mystery of the hills – these things which exist, absorbed but in their own existence – these are the perfect chalices of truth.