O thou Prince little less than divine! I beseech thy sacred virtues to bear with all patience the shortcomings of my too daring pen, that would attempt so lofty a subject as is the recounting of thy virtuous deeds, worthy of so much glory. For the eternal duration of these thy actions, if the end of my attempt be profitable, will exalt thy fame and bring great honour to thy memory, giving a useful lesson to all those princes that shall follow thine example. For of a certainty it is not without cause that I ask pardon of thy virtues, knowing my insufficiency to compass such a task, and that I have more just reason to expect blame for doing less than I ought, than for saying over much. Thy glory, thy praises, thy fame, so fill my ears and employ my eyes that I know not well where to begin. I hear the prayers of the innocent souls of those barbarous peoples, almost infinite in number, whose ancient race since the beginning of the world hath never seen the divine light, but who are now by thy genius, by thy infinite expense, and by thy great labours, brought into the true path of salvation, washed in the waters of baptism, anointed with the holy oil, and freed from that wretched abode of theirs, knowing at this present what darkness lay concealed under the semblance of light in the days of their ancestors.