Under the edge of war, with unsheathed knife, we are impressed to engage and fight. All of one nature, of one substance bred, we march one way in furious ranks. Like the meteors of a troubled heaven, find we a time for frighted butchery. So thirsts the entrance of this soil, daub her lips with her own children's blood; let trenching war channel her fields. Bruise her flowerets with armed hooves and hostile paces. Think with thyself how more unfortunate than all living women are they of those who come hither: since that our sight, which robs their eyes of joy and hearts of comfort, constrains them weep and shake with fear and sorrow; as we make the mother, wife, and child see the son, the husband, and the father despoiled as his legion's bowels are torn out. We shall fight dragon-like and achieve as soon as draw our sword; and be to them as is the osprey to the fish, who takes it by sovereignty of nature.