I Regret The Unhappiness Of Princes Who

I Will Never Be By Violence Constrained To Do Anything.

I Find That I Sent Wolves Not Shepherds To Govern Ireland, For They Have Left Me Nothing But Ashes And Carcasses To Reign Over!

Mr. Doctor, That Loose Gown Becomes You So Well I Wonder Your Notions Should Be So Narrow.

O Fortune, How Thy Restless, Wavering State Has Fraught With Cares My Troubled Wit!

Monarchs Ought To Put To Death The Authors And Instigators Of War, As Their Sworn Enemies And As Dangers To Their States.