Make ends meet

Deep in his soul the anguish, and, with mien,

No longer bent on fight, submissive cried,

"Spare me, ye citizens; remove the war

Far hence: no weapons now can haste my death;

Draw from my breast the darts, but add no more.

Yet raise me up to place me in the camp

Of Magnus, living: this your gift to him;

No brave man's death my title to renown,