Henry II, king of England, was a man of reddish, freckled complexion with a large round head, grey eyes which glowed fiercely and became bloodshot in anger, a fiery expression and a harsh, cracked voice.

Except when he was worried or angry he was a clever speaker and, what is remarkable for these days, competent in letters.

He made friends easily and was second to none in politeness, no matter what thoughts he might keep to himself;

He was fierce towards those who remained to challenge him, but merciful to the defeated, harsh to his servants, welcoming towards strangers, generous in public, thrifty in private. Those whom he had once hated he never came to love, but those whom he had once loved he scarcely ever called to mind with hatred.

He was delighted by birds of prey, especially when in flight, and by hounds pursuing wild beasts using their keen sense of smell, both for their resonant and harmonious calls and for their swift running. It was a pity thet he never paid as much attention to his prayers as he did to the chase!