ed his cloudy head,
Then both the armes full of hope and feare,
Did waite the dreadfull trumpets fatall sound,
And straight Reuenge from _Stygian_ bands let loose,
Possessed had all hearts and banished thence,
Feare of their children, wife and little home.
Countryes remembrance, and had quite expeld,
With last departed care of life it selfe:
Anger did sparkell from our beautious eyes,
Our trembling feare did make our helmes to shake, 2360
The horse had now put on the riders wrath,
And with his hoofes did strike the trembling earth,
When _Echalarian_ soundes then both gin meete:
Both like enraged, and now the dust gins rise,
And Earth doth emulate the Heauens cloudes,
Then yet beutyous was the face of cruell war:
And goodly terror it might seeme to be,
Faire shieldes, gay swords, and goulden crests did shine.
Their spangled plumes did dance for Iolity,
As nothing priuy to their Masters feare, 2370
But quickly rage and cruell _Mars_ had staynd,
This shining glory with a sadder hew,
A cloud of dartes that darkened Heauens light,
Horror insteed of beauty did suceede.
And her bright armes with dust and blood were foyld:
Now _Lucius_ fals, heare _Drusus_ takes his end,
Here lies _Hortensius_, weltring in his goare.
Here, there, and euery where men fall and die,
Yet _Cassius_ shew not that thy heart doth faynt:
But to the last gasp for _Romains_ freedom fight, 2380
And when sad death shall be thy labors end,
Yet boast thy life thou didst for Country spend.

{SN _Act V sc. iv_}

_Enter Anthony._

_Ant._ Queene of Reuenge imperious _Nemesis_,
That in the wrinkels of thine angry browes,
Wrapst dreadfull vengance and pale fright-full death:
Raine downe the bloudy showers of thy reuenge,
And make our swordes the fatall instruments,
To execute thy furious bale-full Ire,
Let grim death seate her on my Lances point, 2390
Which percing the weake armour of my foes,
Shall lodge her there within there coward brestes,
Dread, horror, vengance, death, and bloudy hate:
In this sad fight my murthering sworde awaite. _Exit_

{SN _Act V sc. v_}

_Enter Titinnius._

_Titin._ Where may I flie from this accursed soyle,
Or shunne the horror of this dismall day:
Th