Sherlock Holmes: Once more unto the breach, dear friends! Once more! Or close the wall up with our English dead! Set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide! Hold hard the breath and build up every spirit to his full height! On! On, you noblest English whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof! And you, good yeoman, Whose limbs were made in England, show us here the mettle of your pasture. Which I doubt not for there is none of you here so mean and base that hath not noble lustre in your eyes! I see you standing like greyhounds in the slips, straining upon the start! The game’s afoot. (Shakespeare)