Here lies our Sovereign Lord, the King whose word no man relies on: He never said a foolish thing nor ever did a wise one.

The clog of all pleasure, the luggage of life, is the best can be said for a very good wife.

All men would be cowards if they could.

If you have a grateful heart (which is a miracle amongst you statesmen), show it by directing the bearer to the best wine in town, and pray let not this highest point of sacred friendship be performed slightly, but go about it with all due deliberation and care, as holy priests to sacrifice, or as discreet thieves to the wary performance of burglary and shop-lifting. Let your well-discerning palate (the best judge about you) travel from cellar to cellar and then from piece to piece till it has lighted on wine fit for its noble choice and my approbation.

A merry monarch, scandalous and poor.

Here lies our sovereign lord, the king, Whose word no man relives on, Who never said a foolish thing, And never did a wise one.