ON COMINIUS.If by the verdict o' folk thy hoary old age (0 Cominius!)
Filthy with fulsomest lust ever be doomed to the death,
Make I no manner of doubt but first thy tongue to the worthy
Ever a foe, cut out, ravening Vulture shall feed;
Gulp shall the Crow's black gorge those eye-balls dug from their sockets,
Guts of thee go to the dogs, all that remains to the wolves.