641Who shall me yeven tears to complain

42The death of gentillesse and of franchise

43That all the world wielded in his domain,

44And yet him thought it might not suffice?

45So full was his corage of high emprise.

46Alas, who shall me help to indite

47False Fortune, and poison to despise,

48The which two of all this woe I wite?

749By wisdom, manhood, and by great labor

50From humble bed to royal majesty,

51Up rose he, Julius the conqueror,

52That won all th'occident by land and sea,

53By strength of hand, or else by treaty,

54And unto Rome made them tributary;

55And since of Rome the emperor was he,

56Till that Fortune wax his adversary.

857O mighty Caesar, that in Thessaly

58Against Pompeius, father thine in law,

59That of th'orient had all the chivalry

60As far as that the day beginneth dawe,

61Thou through thy knighthood hast them take and slew,

62Save few folk that with Pompeius fled,

63Through which thou puttest all th'orient in awe.

64Thank Fortune, that so well thee sped!

965But now a little while I will bewail

66This Pompeius, this noble governor

67Of Rome which that flee at this battle;

68I say one of his men, a false traitor,

69His head off smote, to winnen him favor

70Of Julius, and him the head he brought.

71Alas, Pompey, of th'orient conqueror,

72That Fortune unto such a fin thee brought!

1073To Rome again repaireth Julius

74With his triumph, laureate full high,

75But on a time Brutus, Cassius,

76That ever had of his high estate envy,

77Full privily hath made conspiracy

78Against this Julius, in subtle wise,

79And cast the place, in which he should die

80With bodkins, as I shall you devise.