“Clad in this kind of garment, he secretly entered the magnates’ bedrooms by night in the form of an angel and amazingly deluded their sense or rather their understanding, wide-awake as they were.” […]
“One time at a tavern Sir Walter Raleigh beat him and sealed up his mouth (i.e. his upper and nether beard) with hard wax.” […]
“A pillar in the sea appeared to them that seemed to be not far distant. Still it took them three days to come up to it. It was higher than the sky. THE TEXT: One day when they had celebrated their Masses, a pillar in the sea appeared to them that seemed to be not far distant. Still it took them three days to come up to it. When the man of God approached it, he tried to see the top of it – but he could not, it was so high. It was higher than the sky. Moreover a wide-meshed net was wrapped around it. The mesh was so wide that the boat could pass through its opening. They could not decide of what substance the net was made. It had the colour of silver, but they thought that that it seemed harder than marble. The pillar was of bright crystal.” […]
“In appreciation of what had happened and as a mark of favour to the dog, which had almost died of starvation, the English, who nevertheless hated the Welsh, had the corpse buried with all due ceremony.” […]
“Their shields were split and broken, their coats of chainmail torn and damaged. They turned their horses around and rushed at each other again.” […]
“It can be killed but never subdued alive. And if ever by the exertion of hunters it happens to be taken alive, it immediately dies.” […]
“Sir Walter Raleigh ordered him to carry up the first dish at dinner, where the queen beheld him with admiration, as if a beautiful young giant had stalked in with the service.” […]
‘Then she handed me a sword with a highly polished hilt.
“Wield this weapon of mine,” said the woman,
“Much blood has been spilt at the bite of its blade,
And as you slash and swish it will serve you unswaveringly.”’ […]
“When I am sitting here I feel as if I were in a paradise of delights in contrast with my fear of the torments that lie before me this evening. For I burn, like a lump of molten lead in a pot, day and night. But here I have a place of refreshment every Sunday from evening to evening, at Christmas until the Epiphany, at Easter until Pentecost, and on the feasts of the purification and assumption of the mother of God. After and before these feasts I am tortured in the depths of Hell.” […]
“They are surprised that, from all the great and striking subjects which the world can offer, I choose to extol in my writings and to adorn with all the flowers of my rhetoric those rugged countries.” […]
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