But from his euils by hast’ned death to passe.
Come you poore people tir’de with ceasles plaints
With teares and sighes make mournfull sacrifice
On Isis altars: not our selues to saue,
But soften Cæsar and him piteous make
To vs, his pray: that so his lenitie
May change our death into captiuitie.
Strange are the euils the fates on vs haue brought,
O but alas! how farre more strange the cause!
Loue, loue (alas, who euer would haue thought?)