Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood!
Over thy wounds now do I prophesy
Which, like dumb mouths, do ope their ruby lips
To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue
A curse shall light upon the limbs of men
Domestic fury and fierce civil strife
Shall cumber all the parts of Italy
Blood and destruction shall be so in use
And dreadful objects so familiar
That mothers shall but smile when they behold
Their infants quarter'd with the hands of war
All pity choked with custom of fell deeds
And Caesar's spirit, ranging for revenge
With Ate by his side come hot from hell
Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice
Cry 'Havoc, ' and let slip the dogs of war
That this foul deed shall smell above the earth
With carrion men, groaning for burial