Each word thou has spoken hath weeded from my heart
A root of ancient envy. If Jupiter
Should from yond' cloud speak divine things,
And say, "'Tis true," I'd not believe them more
Than thee, all noble Marcius.—Let me twine
Mine arms about that body, where against
My grainèd ash a hundred times hath broke.
.... I do contest
As hotly and as nobly with thy love
As ever in ambitious strength I did