Where the hot Sun may emulate his Vertues,
And draw another Pompey from his ashes
Divinely great, and fix him 'mongst the Worthies.
Ptol. We will do all.
Cæs. You have rob'd him of those tears
His Kindred and his Friends kept sacred for him;
The Virgins of their Funeral Lamentations:
And that kind Earth that thought to cover him,
(His Countries Earth) will cry out 'gainst your Cruelty,
And weep unto the Ocean for revenge,