stitutes
God Save the King! It was the last time
Great transactions of a reign are sometimes paltry things
Great battles often leave the world where they found it
Hair and beard unshorn, according to ancient Batavian custom
Hanged for having eaten meat-soup upon Friday
Having conjugated his paradigm conscientiously
He had omitted to execute heretics
He came as a conqueror not as a mediator
Holy Office condemned all the inhabitants of the Netherlands
Hope deferred, suddenly changing to despair
If he had little, he could live upon little
Incur the risk of being charged with forwardness than neglect
Indignant that heretics had been suffered to hang
Insane cruelty, both in the cause of the Wrong and the Right
Leave not a single man alive in the city, and to burn every house
Luther's axiom, that thoughts are toll-free
Meantime the second civil war in France had broken out
Not for a new doctrine, but for liberty of conscience
Not to let the grass grow under their feet
Not strong enough to sustain many more such victories
Oldenbarneveld; afterwards so illustrious
Only kept alive by milk, which he drank from a woman's breast
Only healthy existence of the French was in a state of war
Pathetic dying words of Anne Boleyn
Provided not one Huguenot be left alive in France
Put all those to the torture out of whom anything can be got
Questioning nothing, doubting nothing, fearing nothing
Saint Bartholomew's day
Scepticism, which delights in reversing the judgment of centuries
Science of reigning was the science of lying
Sent them word by carrier pigeons
Seven Spaniards were killed, and seven thousand rebels
Sick and wounded wretches were burned over slow fires
Slender stock of platitudes
So much responsibility and so little power
Sometimes successful, even although founded upon sincerity
Spendthrift of time, he was an economist of blood
The time for reasoning had passed
The calf is fat and must be killed
The perpetual reproductions of history
The greatest crime, however, was to be rich
The faithful servant is always a perpetual ass
The tragedy of Don Carlos
The illness was a convenient one
Three hundred fighting women
Time and myself are two
Tyranny, ever young and ever old, constantly reproduc