Here didst thou fall, and here thy hunters stand,
Sign'd in thy spoil[75] and crimson'd in thy lethe.[76][77]
O world, thou wast the forest to this hart;
And this, indeed, O world, the heart[78] of thee.
210How like a deer, strucken[79] by many princes,
Dost thou here lie!
Cassius.
Mark Antony,—
Antony.
Pardon me, Caius Cassius: