Caravaggio Amor Vincit Omnia

Caravaggio Amor Vincit OmniaPierre-Auguste Cot Le PrintempsGeorge Frederick Watts CharityFrancisco de Goya Nude MajaFrancisco de Goya Clothed Maja
'There's nothing between us,' explained the philosopher.
'Oh, dear. That means we shall be forced to make war.'
'Why?'
Ibid opened his mouth, stopped, and turned to Xeno.
'Why does it mean we'll be forced to make war?' he said.
'Historical imperative,' said Xeno.
'Ah, yes. I knew it was something like that. I am afraid it is inevitable. It's a shame, but there you are.'
There was another clatter as another party of horsemen rounded the corner, heading downhill this time. They wore the high plumed helmets of Ephebian soldiery, and were shouting enthusiastically.
Ibid settled himself more comfortably on the bench and folded his bands. 'That'll be the Tyrant's men,' he said, as the troop galloped through the city gates and out on to the desert. 'He's sending them to check, you may depend upon it.' Teppic knew about the enmity between Ephebe and Tsort, of course. The Old Kingdom had profited mightily by it, by seeing that the merchants of both sides had somewhere discreet in which to trade with one another. He drummed his fingers on the table. 'You haven't fought each other for thousands of years,' he said. 'You were tiny countries in those days. It was just a scrap. Now you're huge. People could get hurt. Doesn't that worry you?'
'It's a matter of pride,' said Ibid, but his voice was tinged with uncertainty. 'I don't think there's much choice.'
'It was that bloody wooden cow or whatever,' said Xeno. 'They've never forgiven us for it.'
'If we don't attack them, they'll attack us first,' said Ibid.