ABSTRACT
CAssr. Now have I sent him headlong to his endt', Vengance and death awayting at his heeles, Ct2sar thy life now hangetll on a twine, Which by my Poniard must bee cut in twaine, Thy chaire of state now turn'd is to thy Beere, Thy Princely robes to make thy winding sheete: '°90 The Senators the Mourners ore the Hearse, And Pompeys Court, thy dreadfull grave shalbe.
