How much must I overcome before I triumph?
I agree to, or rather aspire to, my doom.
He on whom heaven confers a sceptre knows not the weight till he bears it.
It is only blood that can wash away such an outrage; die or kill.
The universe has no prince or king that it [Rome] would consider equal to its humblest citizen.
I am Roman, alas, because Horace is Roman.