Whose strikes, The blow is Caesar's.

Men may tear this frame And cast it mangled to the winds of heaven; Yet have I prospered, nor can all the gods Call back my triumphs.

Life may bring defeat, But death no misery.

If my spouse and son Behold me murdered, silently the more I suffer: admiration at my death Shall prove their love." Thus did Pompeius die, Guarding his thoughts.
But now Cornelia filled The air with lamentations at the sight; "O, husband, whom my wicked self hath slain! That lonely isle apart thy bane hath been And stayed thy coming.

Caesar to the Nile Has won before us; for what other hand May do such work?
But whosoe'er thou art Sent from the gods with power, for Caesar's ire, Or thine own sake, to slay, thou dost not know Where lies the heart of Magnus.