Nay cursed then the author of this deed,
Yet both offended, both shall punished be,
Ile take reueng of the knife, the knife of me,
It shall make a passage for my life to passe,
Cause through my life his master murthered was.
And I on it againe will venged bee.
Cause it did worke my _Cassius_ tragedy.
Then this reueng shalbe to end my life. 2500
Mine to distayne with baser blood the knife.

_Enter Brutus the Ghost following him._

_Bru._ What doest thou still persue me vgly fend,
Is this it that thou thirsted for so much?
Come with thy tearing clawes and rend it out,
Would thy appeaseles rage be slacked with blood,
This sword to day hath crimsen channels made,
But heare's the blood that thou woulds drinke so fayne,
Then take this percer, broch this trayterous heart.
Or if thou thinkest death to small a payne, 2510
Drag downe this body to proud _Erebus_,
Through black _Cocytus_ and infernall _Styx_,
_Lethean_ waues, and fiers of _Phlegeton_,
Boyle me or burne, teare my hatefull flesh,
Deuoure, consume, pull, pinch, plague, paine this hart,
Hell craues her right, and heere the furyes stand,
And all the hell-hounds compasse me a round
Each seeking for a parte of this same prey,
Alasse this body is leane, thin, pale and wan,
Nor can it all your hungery mouthes suffice, 2520
O tis the soule that they stand gaping for,
And cndlesse matter for to prey vpon.
Renewed still as _Titius_ pricked heart.
Then clap your hands, let Hell with Ioy resound?
Here it comes flying through this aery round.
_Gho._ Hell take their hearts, that this ill deed haue done
And vengeance follow till they be ouercome:
Nor liue t'applaud the iustice of this deed.
Murther by her owne guilty hand doth bleed.

_Enter Discord._

_Dis._ I, now my longing hopes haue their desire, 2531
The world is nothing but a massie heape:
Of bodys slayne, The Sea a lake of blood,
The Furies that for slaughter only thirst,
Are with these Massakers and slaughters cloyde,
_Tysiphones_ pale, and _Megeras_ thin face,
Is now puft vp, and swolne with quaffing blood,
_Caron_ that vsed but an old rotten boate
Must nowe a nauie rigg for to transport,
The howling soules, vnto the _Stigian_ stronde.