A Fool Too Late Bewares When All

I Pluck Up The Good Lissome Herbs Of Sentences By Pruning, Eat Them By Reading, Digest Them By Musing, And Lay Them Up At Length In The High Seat Of Memory.

I Have The Heart Of A Man, Not A Woman, And I Am Not Afraid Of Anything.

Where Minds Differ And Opinions Swerve There Is Scant A Friend In That Company.

The End Crowneth The Work.

My Loving People, We Have Been Persuaded By Some That Are Careful Of Our Safety, To Take Heed How We Commit Ourself To Armed Multitudes For Fear Of Treachery; But I Assure You, I Do Not Desire To Live To Distrust My Faithful And Loving People. I Know I Have The Body But Of A Weak And Feeble Woman, But I Have The Heart And Stomach Of A King, And Of A King Of England Too, And Think Foul Scorn That Parma Or Spain, Or Any Prince Of Europe Should Dare To Invade The Borders Of My Realm.