And both will strive to aspire. When
Two vexed clouds justle, they strike out fire:
And you, I fear me, war, which peace forefend.
O dear Andrea, pray, let’s have no wars!
First let them pay the soldiers that were maimed
In the last battle, ere more wretches fall,
Or walk on stilts to timeless funeral.
And. Respective dear! O my life’s happiness!
The joy of all my being! do not shape
Frightful conceit beyond the intent of act!