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I see the trick on't ;-Here was a consent, (Knowing aforehand of our merriment,) To dash it like a Christmas comedy:

Some carry-tale, some please-man, some slight zany,
Some mumble news, some trencher-knight, some
Dick,-

That smiles his cheek in years; and knows the trick
To make my lady laugh, when she's dispos'd,-
Told our intents before: which once disclos'd,
The ladies did change favours; and then we,
Following the signs, woo'd but the sign of she.
Now, to our perjury to add more terror,
We are again forsworn: in will, and error.
Much upon this it is: And might not you, [To BOYET.
Forestal our sport, to make us thus untrue?
Do not you know my lady's foot by the squire,
And laugh upon the apple of her eye?
And stand between her back, sir, and the fire,
Holding a trencher, jesting merrily?
You put our page out: Go, you are allow'd;
Die when you will, a smock shall be your shroud.
You leer upon me, do you? there's an eye,
Wounds like a leaden sword.

Boyet.
Full merrily
Hath this brave manage, this career, been run.
Biron. Lo,he is tilting straight! Peace; I have done.
Enter COSTARD.

Welcome, pure wit! thou partest a fair fray.

Cost. O Lord, sir, they would know,
Whether the three worthies shall come in, or no.
Biron. What, are there but three ?
Cost.

No, sir; but it is vara fine, For every one pursents three.

Biron. And three times thrice is nine. [is not so: Cest. Not so, sir; under correction, sir; I hope, it You cannot beg us, sir, I can assure you, sir; we know what we know:

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Biron. How much is it?

Cost. O Lord, sir, the parties themselves, the

actors, sir, will shew whereuntil it doth amount: for my own part, I am, as they say, but to parfect one man,-e'en one poor man; Pompion the great, sir.

Biron. Art thou one of the worthies?

Cost. It pleased them, to think me worthy of Pompion the great for mine own part, I know not the degree of the worthy; but I am to stand for him. Biron. Go, bid them prepare.

some care.

Cost. We will turn it finely off, sir; we will take [Exit COSTARD. King. Birón, they will shame us, let them not approach. [some policy Biron. We are shame-proof, my lord: and 'tis To have one show worse than the king's and his King. I say, they shall not come. [company. Prin. Nay, my good lord, let me o'er rule you now? That sport best pleases, that doth least know how: Where zeal strives to content, and the contents Die in the zeal of them which it presents, Their form confounded makes most form in mirth; When great things labouring perish in their birth. Biren. A right description of our sport, my lord.

royal sweet breath, as will utter a brace of words. [ARMADO converses with the KING, and delivers him a paper.

Prin. Doth this man serve God?

Biron. Why ask you?

Prin. He speaks not like a man of God's making. Arm. That's all one, my fair, sweet, honey-mo. narch for, I protest, the school master is exceeding fantastical; too, too vain; too, too vain; But we will put it, as they say, to fortuna della guerra. I wish you the peace of mind, most royal couplement ! [Exit ARMADO,

King. Here is like to be a good presence of worthies: He presents Hector of Troy; the swain, Pompey the Great; the parish curate, Alexander; Armado's page, Hercules; the pedant, Judas Ma

chabæus.

And if these four worthies in their first show thrive, These four will change habits, and present the other five.

Biron. There is five in the first show.
King. You are deceiv'd, 'tis not so.

Biron. The pedant, the braggart, the hedge-priest the fool, and the boy :

Abate a throw at novum ; and the whole world again, Cannot prick out five such, take each one in his vein, King. The ship is under sail, and here she comes amain.

[Seats brought for the KING, PRINCESS, &c.

Pageant of the Nine Worthies.

Enter COSTARD arm'd, for POMPEY.

Cost. I Pompey am,
Boyet.

You lie, you are not he

Cost. I Pompey am,· Boyet. With libbard's head on knee. Birom. Well said, old mocker; I must needs be friends with thee.

Cost. I Pompey am, Pompey surnam'd the big,Dum. The great.

Cost. It is great, sir ;-Pompey surnam'd the great; That oft in field, with targe and shield, did make my foe to sweat: [chance; And travelling along this coast, I here am come by And lay my arms before the legs of this sweet lass of France. [done.

If your ladyship would say, Thanks, Pompey, I had Prin. Great thanks, great Pompey.

Cost. 'Tis not so much worth; but, I hope, I was perfect: I made a little fault in, great.

Biron. My hat to a halfpenny, Pompey proves the

best worthy.

Enter NATHANIEL arm'd, for Alexander. Nath. When in the world I liv'd, I was the world's commander; [ing might: By east, west, north, and south, I spread my conquerMy 'scutcheon plain declares, that I am Alisander. Boyet. Your nose says, no, you are not; for it stands too right. [smelling knight. Biron. Your nose smells, no, in this, most tenderPrin. The conqueror is dismay'd: Proceed, good Alexander. [commander;

[sander.

Nath. When in the world I liv'd, I was the world's Boyet. Most true, 'tis right; you were so, Alisander. Biron. Pompey the great, Cost. Your servant, and Costárd. Biron. Take away the conqueror, take away AliCost. O, sir, [to NATH.] you have overthrown Alisander the conqueror! You will be scraped out of the painted cloth for this: your lion, that holds Arm. Anointed, I implore so much expense of thy his poll-axe sitting on a close stool, will be given to

Enter ARMADO.

:

A-jax he will be the ninth worthy. A conqueror, and afeard to speak! run away for shame, Alisander. [NATH. retires. There, an't shall please you; a foolish mild man; an honest man, look you, and soon dash'd! He is a marvellous good neighbour, insooth; and a very good bowler: but, for Alisander, alas, you see, how 'tis ;-a little o'erparted :-But there are worthies a coming will speak their mind in some other sort.

Prin. Stand aside, good Pompey.

Enter HOLOFERNES arm'd, for JUDAS; and MOTH
arm'd, for Hercules.

Hol. Great Hercules is presented by this imp,
Whose club killed Cerberus,that three-headed canus;

And, when he was a babe, a child, a shrimp,

Thus did he strangle serpents in his manus:

Quoniam, he seemeth in minority;

Ergo, I come with this apology.

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Arm. Sweet lord Longaville, rein thy tongue. Long. I must rather give it the rein, for it runs against Hector.

Dum. Ay, and Hector's a greyhound.

Arm. The sweet war-man is dead and rotten;

Keep some state in thy exit, and vanish. [Exit MOTH. sweet chucks, beat not the bones of the buried:

Hol. Judas, I am,—

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Hol. What is this?

Boyet. A cittern head.

Dum. The head of a bodkin.

Biron. A death's face in a ring.

Long. The face of an old Roman coin, scarce seen.
Boyet. The pummel of Cæsar's faulchion.
Dum. The carv'd-bone face on a flask.
Biron. St. George's half-cheek in a brooch.
Dum. Ay, and in a brooch of lead.

Biron. Ay, and worn in the cap of a tooth-drawer:
And now, forward; for we have put thee in coun-

tenance.

Hol. You have put me out of countenance.
Biron. False: we have given thee faces.
Hol. But you have out-fac'd them all.
Biron. An thou wert a lion, we would do so.
Boyet. Therefore, as he is, an ass, let him go.
And so adieu, sweet Jude! nay, why dost thou stay?
Dum. For the latter end of his name.

Biron. For the ass to the Jude ;-give it him :-
Jud-as, away.

Hol. This is not generous, not gentle, not humble.
Boyet. A light for monsieur Judas: it grows dark,
he may stumble.
[baited!
Prin. Alas, poor Machabæus, how hath he been

Enter ARMADO arm'd, for Hector.
Biron. Hide thy head, Achilles; here comes
Hector in arms.

Dum. Though my mocks come home by me, now be merry.

I will

King. Hector was but a Trojan in respect of this.
Boyet. But is this Hector?

Dum. I think, Hector was not so clean-timbered.
Long. His leg is too big for Hector.

Dum. More calf, certain.

Boyet. No; he is best indued in the small.
Biron. This cannot be Hector.

Dum. He's a god or a painter; for he makes faces.

when he breath'd, he was a man-But I will forward
with my device: Sweet royalty, [to the PRINCESS.]
bestow on me the sense of hearing.

[BIRON whispers COSTARD.
Prin. Speak, brave Hector: we are much delighted.
Arm. I do adore thy sweet grace's slipper.
Boyet. Loves her by the foot.

Dum. He may not by the yard.

Arm. This Hector far surmounted Hannibal,— Cost. The party is gone, fellow Hector, she is gone; she is two months on her way.

Arm. What meanest thou?

Cost. Faith, unless you play the honest Trojan, the poor wench is cast away: she's quick; the child brags in her belly already; 'tis yours.

Årm. Dost thou infamonize me among potentates?

thou shalt die.

Cost. Then shall Hector be whipp'd, for Jaquenetta that is quick by him; and hang'd for Pompey that is dead by him.

Dum. Most rare Pompey!

Boyet Renowned Pompey!

Biron. Greater than great, great, great, great Pompey! Pompey the huge!

Dum. Hector trembles.

Biron. Pompey is mov'd :-More Ates, more Ates; stir them on! stir them on!

Dum. Hector will challenge him.

Biron. Ay, if he have no more man's blood in's belly than will sup a flea.

Arm. By the north pole, I do challenge thee.
Cost. I will not fight with a pole, like a northern
man; I'll slash; I'll do it by the sword :-I pray
you, let me borrow my arms again.

Dum. Room for the incensed worthies.
Cost. I'll do it my shirt.

Dum. Most resolute Pompey !

Do you not see, Pompey is uncasing for the combat?
Moth. Master, let me take you a button-hole lower.
What mean you? you will lose your reputation.

Arm. Gentlemen, and soldiers, pardon me; I will not combat in my shirt.

Dum. You may not deny it; Pompey hath made the challenge.

Arm. Sweet bloods, I both may and will.
Biron. What reason have you for't?
Arm. The naked truth of it is, I have no shirt;
I go woolward for penance.

Boyet. True, and it was enjoin'd him in Rome for want of linen: since when, I'll be sworn, he wore none, but a dish-clout of Jaquenetta's; and that 'a I wears next his heart, for a favour.

Enter MERCADE.

Mer. God save you, madam!

Prin. Welcome, Mercade ;

But that thou interrupt'st our merriment.

Mer. I am sorry, madam; for the news I bring, Is heavy in my tongue. The king your fatherPrin. Dead for my life.

Mer. Even so; my tale is told.

Biron. Worthies, away; the scene begins to cloud. Arm. For mine own part, I breathe free breath: I have seen the day of wrong through the little hole of discretion, and I will right myself like a soldier. [Exeunt Worthies.

King. How fares your majesty? Prin. Boyet, prepare; I will away to-night. King. Madam, not so; I do beseech you, stay. Prin. Prepare, I say.-I thank you, gracious lords, For all your fair endeavours; and entreat, Out of a new-sad soul, that you vouchsafe In your rich wisdom, to excuse, or hide, The liberal opposition of our spirits: If over-boldly we have borne ourselves In the converse of breath, your gentleness Was guilty of it.-Farewell, worthy lord! A heavy heart bears not an humble tongue : Excuse me so, coming so short of thanks For my great suit so easily obtain'd.

King. The extreme parts of time extremely form All causes to the purpose of his speed; And often, at his very loose, decides That which long process could not arbitrate : And though the mourning brow of progeny Forbid the smiling courtesy of love, The holy suit which fain it would convince; Yet, since love's argument was first on foot, Let not the cloud of sorrow justle it From what it purpos'd; since to wail friends lost, Is not by much so wholesome, profitable, As to rejoice at friends but newly found.

Prin. I understand you not; my griefs are double.
Biron. Honest plain words best pierce the ear of
And by these badges understand the king. [grief;-
For your fair sakes have we neglected time,
Play'd foul play with our oaths; your beauty, ladies,
Hath much deform'd us, fashioning our humours
Even to the opposed end of our intents:
And what in us hath seem'd ridiculous,-
As love is full of unbefitting strains;
All wanton as a child, skipping, and vain ;
Form'd by the eye, and, therefore, like the eye
Full of strange shapes, of habits, and of forms,
Varving in subjects as the eye doth roll
To every varied object in his glance :
Which party-coated presence of loose love
Put on by us, if, in your heavenly eyes,
Have misbecom'd our oaths and gravities,
Those heavenly eyes, that look into these faults,
Suggested us to make: Therefore, ladies,
Our love being yours, the error that love makes
Is likewise yours: we to ourselves prove false,
By being once false for ever to be true

To those that make us both,-fair ladies, you:
And even that falsehood, in itself a sin,
Thus purifies itself, and turns to grace.

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Prin.
A time, methinks, too short
To make a world-without-end bargain in :
No, no, my lord, your grace is perjur'd much,
Full of dear guiltiness; and, therefore this,—
If for my love (as there is no such cause)
You will do aught, this shall you do for me:
Your oath I will not trust; but go with speed
To some forlorn and naked hermitage,
Remote from all the pleasures of the world;
There stay, until the twelve celestial signs
Have brought about their annual reckoning:
If this austere insociable life

Change not your offer made in heat of blood;
If frosts, and fasts, hard lodging, and thin weeds,
Nip not the gaudy blossoms of your love,
But that it bear this trial, and last love;
Then, at the expiration of the year,

Come challenge, challenge me by these deserts,
And, by this virgin palm, now kissing thine,
I will be thine; and, till that instant, shut
My woeful self up in a mourning house;
Raining the tears of lamentation,

For the remembrance of my father's death.
If this thou do deny, let our hands part;
Neither intitled in the other's heart.

King. If this, or more than this, I would deny, To flatter up these powers of mine with rest, The sudden hand of death close up mine eye!

Hence ever then my heart is in thy breast. Biron. And what to me, my love? and what to me? Ros. You must be purged too, your sins are rank; You are attaint with faults and perjury; Therefore, if you my favour mean to get, A twelvemonth shall you spend, and never rest, But seek the weary beds of people sick.

Dum. But what to me, my love? but what to me? Kath. A wife!-A beard, fair health, and honesty; With three-fold love I wish you all these three.

Dum. O, shall I say, I thank you, gentle wife? Kath. Not so, my lord;-a twelvemonth and a day I'll mark no words that smooth-fac'd wooers say: Come when the king doth to my lady come, Then, if I have much love, I'll give you some.

Dum. I'll serve thee true and faithfully till then. Kath. Yet swear not, lest you be forsworn again. Long. What says Maria?

Mar.

At the twelvemonth's end
I'll change my black gown for a faithful friend.
Long. I'll stay with patience; but the time is long.
Mar. The liker you; few taller are so young.
Biron. Studies my lady? mistress, look on me,
Behold the window of my heart, mine eye,
What humble suit attends thy answer there;
Impose some service on me for thy love.

Ros. Oft have I heard of you, my lord Birón,
Before I saw you and the world's large tongue
Proclaims you for a man replete with mocks;
Full of comparisons and wounding flouts;
Which you on all estates will execute,.

Prin. We have receiv'd your letters, full of love; That lie within the mercy of your wit:

Your favours, the embassadors of love;
And in our maiden council, rated them
At courtship, pleasant jest, and courtesy,
As bombast, and as lining to the time:
But more devout than this, in our respects,
Have we not been; and therefore met your loves

To weed this wormwood from your fruitful brain And, therewithal, to win me, if you please, (Without the which I am not to be won,) You shall this twelvemonth term from day to day Visit the speechless sick, and still converse With groaning wretches; and your task shall be,

;

With all the fierce endeavour of your wit,
To enforce the pained impotent to smile.
Biron. To move wild laughter in the throat of death?
It cannot be; it is impossible:
Mirth cannot move a soul in agony.

Ros. Why, that's the way to choke a gibing spirit,
Whose influence is begot of that loose grace,
Which shallow laughing hearers give to fools:
A jest's prosperity lies in the ear

Of him that hears it, never in the tongue
Of him that makes it: then, if sickly ears,
Deaf'd with the clamours of their own dear groans,
Will hear your idle scorns, continue then,
And I will have you, and that fault withal;
But, if they will not, throw away that spirit,
And I shall find you empty of that fault,
Right joyful of your reformation.

Biron.

twelvemonth? well, befal what will befal, I'll jest a twelvemonth in an hospital. Prin. Ay, sweet my lord; and so I take my leave. [To the KING.

King. No, madam: we will bring you on your way. Biron. Our wooing doth not end like an old play; Jack hath not Jill: these ladies' courtesy Might well have made our sport a comedy.

King. Come, sir, it wants a twelvemonth and a day, And then 'twill end.

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Arm. Sweet majesty, vouchsafe me,—

Prin. Was not that Hector?

Dum. The worthy knight of Troy.

Arm. I will kiss thy royal finger, and take leave: I am a votary; I have vowed to Jaquenetta to hold the plough for her sweet love three years. But most esteemed greatness, will you hear the dialogue that the two learned men have compiled, in praise of the owl and the cuckoo? it should have followed in the end of our show.

King. Call them forth quickly, we will do so.
Arm. Holla! approach.

Enter HOLOFERNES, NATHANIEL, MOTH, COSTARD, and others.

This side is Hiems, winter; this Ver, the spring; the

In this play, which all the editors have concurred to censure, and some have rejected as unworthy of our poet, it must be confessed that there are many passages mean, childish, and vulgar; and some which ought not to have been exhibited, as we are

one maintain'd by the owl, the other by the cuckoo. Ver, begin.

SONG.

Spring. I. When daisies pied, and violets blue,
And lady-smocks all silver-white,
And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue,

Do paint the meadows with delight,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men, for thus sings he,
Cuckoo ;

Cuckoo, cuckoo,-O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!

II. When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,

And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks,
When turtles tread, and rooks and daws,

And maidens bleach their summer smocks,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men, for thus sings he,
Cuckoo ;

Cuckoo, cuckoo,-O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!

Winter. III. When isicles hang by the wall,

And Dick the shepherd blows his nail,
And Tom bears logs into the hall,

And milk comes frozen home in pail,
When blood is nipp'd, and ways be foul,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
To-who;

Tu-whit, to-who, a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.

IV. When all aloud the wind doth blow,
And coughing drowns the parson's saw,
And birds sit brooding in the snow,

And Marian's nose looks red and raw,
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
To-who;

Tu-whit, to-who, a merry note,

While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.

Arm. The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of Apollo. You, that way; we, this way.

[Exeunt.

told they were, to a maiden queen. But there are scattered through the whole many sparks of genius; nor is there any play that has more evident marks of the hand of Shakspeare.JOHNSON.

MERCHANT OF VENICE.

THIS play was entered at Stationers' Hall on the 22d of July, |
158, but must have been exhibited before that time, as it
was mentioned by Meres, in the Wit's Treasury, which was
pablished early in the same year. The first known edition of
this comedy is the quarto," printed by J. R. for Thomas
Heyes, 1600." It was most probably written in 1597. Mr.
Malone places it three years earlier; but he has no authority
to support his hypothesis, but a simile of Portia's-
"Thy music is

"Even as the flourish when true subjects bow
To a new crowned monarch."

This passage he supposes to refer to the recent coronation of
Henry the Fourth of France, of which a description was pub-
lished in this country immediately after the event.

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

DUKE OF VENICE.

PRINCE OF MOROCCO,

PRINCE OF ARRAGON,Suitors to Portia.

ANTONIO, the Merchant of Venice.
BASSANIO, his friend.

The principal incidents of the plot are taken from a story in
the Pecorone of Ser Giovanni Fiorentino, a novelist who wrote
in 1378. [The first novel of the fourth day.] The story has
been published in English. The circumstance of the caskets
is from an old translation of the Gesta Romanorum, first
printed by Wynkyn de Worde.

It has been supposed that there was a play on the subject pre-
vious to this of our author, and on which he might have
grounded his work. This notion has been suggested by a
passage in Stephen Gosson's School of Abuse, which speaks of
the Jew shewn at the Bull, representing the greediness of
worldly choosers, and the bloody minds of usurers;
these words apply with equal propriety to the Jew of Marlow,
and to the Shylock of Shakspeare.

Would blow me to an ague, when I thought
What harm a wind too great might do at sea.
I should not see the sandy hour glass run,
But I should think of shallows and of flats;
And see my wealthy Andrew dock'd in sand,
Vailing her high-top lower than her ribs,
To kiss her burial. Should I go to church,

SALANIO, SALARINO, GRATIANO, friends to Antonio And see the holy edifice of stone,

and Bassanio.

LORENZO, in love with Jessica.
SHYLOCK, a Jew.

TUBAL, a Jew, his friend.

LAUNCELOT GOBBO, a clown, servant to Shylock.
Old GOBBO, father to Launcelot.
SALERIO, a messenger from Venice.
LEONARDO, servant to Bassanio.

BALTHAZAR, STEPHANO, servants to Portia.

PORTIA, a rich heiress.

NERISSA, her waiting-maid.
JESSICA, daughter to Shylock.

"but

And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks?
Which touching but my gentle vessel's side,
Would scatter all her spices on the stream;
Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks;
And, in a word, but even now worth this,
And now worth nothing? Shall I have the thought
To think on this; and shall I lack the thought,
That such a thing, bechanc'd, would make me sad?
But tell not me; I know Antonio

Is sad to think upon his merchandize.

Ant. Believe me, no: I thank my fortune for it, My ventures are not in one bottom trusted,

Magnificoes of Venice, Officers of the Court of Justice, Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate

Gaoler, Servants, and other Attendants.

SCENE,-partly at VENICE, and partly at BELMONT, the Seat of PORTIA, on the Continent.

ACT I.

SCENE I.-Venice. A Street.
Enter ANTONIO, SALARINO, and SALANIO.
Ant. In sooth, I know not why I am so sad;
It wearies me; you say, it wearies you;
But how I caught it, found it, or came by it,
What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born,
I am to learn;

And such a want-wit sadness makes of me,
That I have much ado to know myself.

Salar. Your mind is tossing on the ocean;
There, where your argosies with portly sail,-
Like signiors and rich burghers of the flood,
Or, as it were, the pageants of the sea,-
Do overpeer the petty traffickers,
That curt'sy to them, do them reverence,
As they fly by them with their woven wings.
Salan. Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth,
The better part of my affections would
Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still
Plucking the grass, to know where sits the wind;
Peering in maps, for ports, and piers, and roads;
And every object, that might make me fear
Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt,
Would make me sad.

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Upon the fortune of this present year:
Therefore, my merchandize makes me not sad.
Salan. Why then you are in love.
Ant.

Fye, fye!
Salan. Not in love neither? Then let's say, you

are sad,

Because you are not merry: and 'twere as easy
For you to laugh, and leap, and say, you are merry,
Because you are not sad. Now, by two headed Janus,
Nature hath fram'd strange fellows in her time:
Some that will evermore peep through their eyes,
And laugh, like parrots, at a bag-piper:
And other of such vinegar aspéct,

That they'll not shew their teeth in way of smile,
Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable.

[man,

Enter BASSANIO, LORENZO, and GRATIANO.
Salan. Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kins-
Gratiano, and Lorenzo : Fare you well;
We leave you now with better company.
Salar. I would have staid till I had made you merry,
If worthier friends had not prevented me.
Aut. Your worth is very dear in my regard.
I take it, your own business calls on you,
And you embrace the occasion to depart.

Salar. Good morrow, my good lords. [Say, when?
Bass. Good signiors both, when shall we laugh?
You grow exceeding strange: Must it be so?
Salar. We'll make our leisures to attend on yours.
[Exeunt SALARINO and SALANIO.
Lor. My lord Bassanio, since you have found
Antonio,

We two will leave you but, at dinner time,
I pray you, have in mind where we must meet.

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