Speak Pompey's loss: to tell you of the Battail,
How many thousand several bloody shapes
Death wore that day in triumph: how we bore
The shock of Cæsars charge: or with what fury
His Souldiers came on as if they had been
So many Cæsars, and like him ambitious
To tread upon the liberty of Rome:
How Fathers kill'd their Sons, or Sons their Fathers,
Or how the Roman Piles on either side
Drew Roman blood, which spent, the Prince of weapons,