Ram. My lord constable, the armor that I saw in your tent to-night, are those stars or suns upon it? Con. Stars, my lord. Dau. Some of them will fall to-morrow, I hope. Con. And yet my sky shall not want. Dau. That may be, for you bear a many superfluously, and ’twere more honor some were away. Con. Even as your horse bears your praises; who would trot as well, were some of your brags dismounted. Henry V, 3.7.69-78