Philip. Cease these laments.
Cornelia. I do but what I ought
To mourn his death.
Philip. Alas! that profits nought.
Cornelia. Will Heaven let treason be unpunished?
Philip. Heavens will perform what they have promised.
Cornelia. I fear the heavens will not hear our prayer.
Philip. The plaints of men oppress'd do pierce the air.
Cornelia. Yet Cæsar liveth still.
Philip. "Due punishment
Succeeds not always after an offence:
For oftentimes 'tis for our chastisement,
That Heaven doth with wicked men dispense,
That, when they list, they may with usury
For all misdeeds pay home the penalty."
Cornelia. This is the hope that feeds my hapless days,
Else had my life been long ago expired.
I trust the gods, that see our hourly wrongs,
Will fire his shameful body with their flames;
Except some man (resolved) shall conclude
With Cæsar's death to end our servitude.
Else (God to-fore) myself may live to see
His tired corse lie toiling in his blood:
Gor'd with a thousand stabs, and round about
The wronged people leap for inward joy.
And then come, Murder: then come, ugly Death:
Then, Lethe, open thine infernal lake!
I'll down with joy: because, before I died,
Mine eyes have seen what I in heart desir'd.
Pompey may not revive, and (Pompey dead)
Let me but see the murd'rer murdered.
Philip. Cæsar bewail'd his death.