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Brutus

A Tragedy
  
  
  
  

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SCENE THE LAST.

SCENE THE LAST.

BRUTUS, PROCULUS, A SENATOR.
SENATOR.
Brutus! Alas—

BRUTUS.
My son is dead?

SENATOR.
He is—
These eyes survey'd—

BRUTUS.
Thank we the bounteous gods!
Their glorious work is perfect; Rome is free.