But such a war, as breaks no bonds of peace. Speak thou fair words, I'll cross them with fair words; Send thou sweet looks, I'll meet them with sweet looks; Write loving lines, I'll answer loving lines; Give me a kiss, I'll countercheck thy kiss. Be this our warring peace, or peaceful war.
Duly twice a morning would I be sprinkling it with fountain-water. At last it grew, and grew, and bore, and bore, till at the length it grew a gallows, and did bear our son, it bore thy fruit and mine: O wicked, wicked plant.
He who lies upon the ground he has nothing to fall. I spent a fortune on the powers of mischief, then nothing is left to be hurt more. (Loosely Translation: He sat on the ground lies Fall can fly farther. On me, Fortune has exhausted her Power of hurting, nothing remains That can threaten me anymore . )