Until a few more of these Irish lords are gone where the Desmonds are, there is no peace for Ireland." "Humph! not so far wrong, I fear.

And yet--Irish lords?
These very traitors are better English blood than we who hunt them down.

When Yeo here slew the Desmond the other day, he no more let out a drop of Irish blood, than if he had slain the lord deputy himself." "His blood be on his own head," said Yeo, "He looked as wild a savage as the worst of them, more shame to him; and the ancient here had nigh cut off his arm before he told us who he was: and then, your worship, having a price upon his head, and like to bleed to death too--" "Enough, enough, good fellow," said Raleigh.

"Thou hast done what was given thee to do.

Strange, Amyas, is it not?
Noble Normans sunk into savages--Hibernis ipsis hiberniores! Is there some uncivilizing venom in the air ?" "Some venom, at least, which makes English men traitors.