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On looking into Richard Morrison's translation of Stratagemata by the Roman civil engineer and military strategist Frontinus I came across this passage in Morrison's dedication to Henry VIII, the contents of which, with all due respect to their great differences in rank and numbers of wives, I think might equally be addressed to the redoubtable Mr Farage:
‘Lorde, howe may al englyshemen reioyce, that your grace neyther spareth, to vysite with your owne eyes, ye ruinous places of the see quostes, by whiche our enemies myght sodeynly inuade vs, neyther yet letteth, to worke with your own handes, continually manegynge tooles, continually inuentyng newe sortes of weapons... As god helpe me, I can not see, whyche waye to wysshe greatter pleasure, greatter comforte, to all englyshe men, than that they all myght se, howe your grace spendeth all the hole day...’
Of course, Henry, despite his many military disasters in northern France (perhaps he didn't read his Frontinus), managed to hold on to 'the brightest jewel in the English crown' (Calais, that is), but then his bloody daughter (yes her, not the other one) went and lost it. How different things might have been...