Of battle, and with me, who make no play
Of war; I fight it out, and hand to hand.
Speak not to me of truce, and pledge, and wine!
Remember all thy valor; try thy feints
And cunning! all the pity I had is gone;
Because thou hast shamed me before both the hosts
With thy light skipping tricks, and thy girl’s wiles.
—Ibid.
The armaments which thunderstrike the walls of rock-built cities,
Bidding nations quake, and monarchs tremble in their capitals;