His body gored, which hee of life benooms:
So iust is God in all his dreadfull dooms.
16.
O, bloudy Brutus, rightly didst thou rue,
And thou, O[1583] Cassius, iustly came thy fall,
That with the sword, wherewith thou Cæsar slue,
Murdredst thyselfe, and reft thy life withall:
A miroir let him bee vnto you all
That murdrers bee, of murder to your meede:
For murder cryes[1584] out vengeaunce on your seede.