Imagens das páginas

Peering in April's front. This your sheep-shearing She would to each one sip: You are retird,
Is as a meeting of the petty gods,

As if you were a feasted one, and not
And you the queen on't.

The hostess of the meeting: Pray you, bid Per.

Sir, my gracious lord, These unknown friends to us welcome: for it is To chide at your extremes, it not becomes me; A way to make us better friends, more known. 0, parlon, that I name them: your high self,

Come, quench your blushes; and present yourself The gracious mark o' the land, you have obscurd That which you are, inistress o'the feast: Come on, With a swain's wearing; and me, poor lowly maid, And bid us welcome to your sheep-shearing, Most goddess-like prank'd up: But that our feasts As your good flock shall prosper. In every miess have folly, and the feeders


Welcome, sir! Digest it with a custom, I should blush

[To Potixenes. To æe you so attired ; sworn, I think,

It is my father's will, I should take on me To show myself a glass.

The hostess-ship o'the day:-You're welcome, sir ! Flo. I bless the time,

[To Camillo. When my good falcon made her flight across Thy father's ground.

-Give me those flowers there, Dorcas -Reverend Per. Now Jore afford you cause !

sirs, 'To me, the difference forges dread; your greatness

For you there's rosemary, and rue; these keep Hath not been usid to fear. Even now I tremble

Seeming, and savour, all the winter long: To think, your father, by some accident,

Grace, and remembrance, be to you both,

And welcome to our shearing! Should pass this way, as you did : Oh, the fates!

Pol. llow would he look, to see his work, so noble,


(A fair one are you,) well you fit our ages Villy bound up? what would he say? Or how

With flowers of winter. Should I, in these my borrow'd flaunts, behold

Per. The sternness of his presence ?

Sir, the ear growing ancient,

Not yet on summer's death, nor on the birth Fle.

Apprehend Nothing but jollity. The gods themselves,

Oftrembling winter,-the fairest flowers o'the season

Are our carnations, and streak'd gilly-flowers, Banabling their deities to love, have taken

Which some call nature's bastards: of that kind 'The shapes of beasts upon them: Jupiter

Our rustic garden's barren ; and I care not Became a bull, and bellow'd ; the green Neptune

To get slips of them. A ram, and bleated; and the fire-rob'd god,

Pol. Golden Apollo, a poor humble swain,

Wherefore, gentle maiden,
As I seem now: Their transformations

Do you neglect them?

For I have heard it said,
Were never for a piece of beauty rarer;

There is an art, which, in their piedness, shares Nor in a way so chaste: since my desires

With great creating nature. Run not before mine honour; nor my lusts


Say, there be ;
Burn hotter than my faith.

Yet nature is made better by no mean,
O but, dear sir,

But nature makes that mean: so, o'er that art,
Your resolution cannot hold, when 'ris

Which, you say, adds to nature, is an art Opposid, as it must be, by the power o' the king:

That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry One of these two must be necessities,

A gentler scion to the wildest stock ; Which then will speak; that you must change this

And make conceive a bark of baser kind purpose,

By bud of nobler race; This is an art Or I my life.

Which does mend nature,-change it rather : but Flo. Thou dearest Perdita,

The art itself is nature. With these fore'd thoughts, I proythee, darken not


So it is. The mirth o'the feast: or I'll be thine, my fair,

Pol. Then make your garden rich in gilly-flowers, Or not my father's: For I cannot be

And do not call them bastards. Mine own, nor any thing to any, if


I'll not put I be not thine : to this I am most constant,

The dibble in earth to set one slip of them: Though destiny say, No. Be merry, gentle;

No more than, were I painted, I would wish Strangle such thoughts as these, with any thing That you behold the while. Your guests are coming : | Desire to breed by me.-Here's flowers for you ;

This youth should say, 'twere well; and only therefore Lift up your countenance; as it were the day Of celebration of that nuptial, which

Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram; We two have swom shall come.

The marigold, that goes to bed with the sun, Per.

O lady fortune,

And with him rises weeping; these are flowers Stand you anspicious!

of middle summer, and, I think, they are given

To men of middle age: You are very welcome. Enter Shepherd, with Polixenes and Camillo, disguis. Cam. I should leave grazing, were 1 of your flock, ed; Clown, Mopsa, Dorcas, and others.

And only live by gazing.
See, your guests approach : Per.

Out, alas!
Address yourself to entertain them sprightly,

You'd be so lean, that blasts of January And let's be red with mirth.

Would blow you through and through.-Now, my Shep. Fie, daughter! when my old wife livd, upon fairest friend, This day, she was both pamler, butler, couk;

I would, I had some fiowers o'the spring, that might Both dame and servant; welcom'd all, serv'd all: Become your time of day; and yours, and yours, Would sing her song, and dance her turn: Dow here, That wear upon your virgin branches yet At upper end o’the table, now, i'the middle;

Your maidenheads growing :- 0 Proscrpina, On his shoulder, and his : her face o’ fire

For the flowers now, that, frighted, thou lett'st fall With labour; and the thing, she tonk to qnerch it, From Dis's waggon! daffodils,

That come before the swallow dares, and take Shep. So she does any thing; though I feport it,
The winds of March with beauty; violets, dim, That should be silent: if young Doricles
But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes,

Do light upon her, she shall bring him that
Or Cytherea's breath ; pale primroses,

Which he not dreams of.
That die unmarried, ere they can behold

Enter a Servant.
Bright Phoebus in his strength, a malady
Most ineident to maids ; bold oxlips, and

Ser. O master, if you did but hear the pedler at the The crown-imperial; lilies of all kinds,

door, you would never dance again after a tabor and The flower-de-luce being one! O, these I lack,

pipe; no, the bag-pipe could not move you: he sings To make you garlands of; and, my sweet friend,

several tunes, faster than you'll tell money ; he utters To strew him o'er and o'er.

them as he had eaten ballads, and all men's ears grew Flo. What? like a corse ?

to his tunes. Per. No, like a bank, for love to lie and play on;

Clo. He could never come better : he shall come in: Not like a corse: or if,—not to be buried,

I love a ballad but even too well; if it be doleful matBut quick, and in mine arms. Come, take your flow'rs: ter, merrily set down, or a very pleasant thing indeed, Methinks, I play, as I have seen them do

and sung lamentably, In Whitsun' pastorals : sure, this robe of mine

Ser. He hath songs, for man, or woman, of all sizes ; Does change my disposition.

no milliner can so fit his customers with gloves: he Flo. What you do,

has the prettiest love-songs for maids; so without baw. Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet,

dry, which is strange; with such delicate burdens of I'd have you do it ever: when you sing,

dildos and fadings : jump her and thump het ; and I'd have you buy and sell so; so, give alms;

where some stretch-mouth'd rascal would, as it were, Pray so; and, for the ordering your affairs,

mean mischief, and break a foul gap into the matter, To sing them too: When you do dance, I wish you he makes the maid to answer, Whoop), do me no harm, A wave o'the sea, that you might ever do

good man ; puts him off, slights him, with Whoop, do Nothing but that; move still, still so,

me no arm, good man. And own no other function: Each your doing

Pol. This is a brave fellow. So singular in each particular,

Clo. Believe me, thou talkest of an admirable-conCrowns what you are doing in the present deeds, ceited fellow. Has he any unbraided wares ? That all your acts are queens.

Ser. He hath ribands of all the colours i' the rain Per.

O Doricles,

Low; points, more than all the lawyers in Bohemia Your praises are too large: but that your youth can learnedly handle, though they come to him by the And the true blood, which fairly peeps through it, gross; inkles, caddisses, cambrics, lawns: why, le Do plainly give you out an unstaiu'd shepherd; sings them over, as they were gods or goddesses ; you With wisdom I might fear, my Doricles,

would think, a sinock were a sheangel; he so chants You woo'd me the false way.

to the sleeve-hand, and the work about the square on't. Flo. I think, you have

Clo. Priythce, bring him in; and let him approach As little skill to fear, as I have purpose

singing. To put you to't.-But, come; our dance, I pray: Per. Forewarn Irim, that he use no scurrilous words Your hand, my Perdita : so turtles pair,

in his tunes. That never mean to part.

Clo. You have of these pedlers, that have more in cm Per. I'll swear for 'em.

than you'd think, sister.
Pol. This is the prettiest low-born lass, that ever Per. Ay, good brother, or go about to think.
Ran on the green-swand: nothing she does, or seems,

Enter Autolycus, singing
But smacks of something greater than berself;
Too noble for this place.

Lawn, as white as driven snow;
He tells her something,

Cyprus, black as e'er was cro70 ;
That makes her blood look out: Good sooth, she is

Gloves, as sweet as damask roses ;
The queen of curds and cream.

Masks for faces, and for no808 ;

Bugle-braeclet, ncck-lace amber,
on, strike

up. Dor. Mopsa must be your mistress ; marry, garlic,

Perfume for a lady's chamber : To mend her kissing with.

Golden quoifs, and stomachers, Mop.

Now, in good time!

For my lad: to give their dears; Clo. Not a word, a word ; we stand upon our map

Pins and poking-sticks of steel,

What maid; lack from head to heel : Come, strike up.


Come, buy of me, come; come buy, come buy;

Buy, lads, or else your lasses cry : Here a dance of Shepherds and Shepherdesses.

Come, buy, 6c. Pol. Pray, good shepherd, what fair swain is this, Clo. If I were not in love with Mopsa, thou should'st Which dances with your daughter?

take no money of me; but being enthrall'd as I am, it Shep. They call him Doricles; and he boasts himself will also be the bondage of certain ribands and gloves. To have a worthy feeding: but I have it

Mop. I was promised them against the feast; but Upon his own report, and I believe it;

they come not too late now. He looks like sooth : He says, he loves my daughter ; Dor. He hath promised you more than that, or there I think so too; for never gaz'd the moon

be liars. Upon the water, as lie'll stand, and read,

Mop. He hath paid you all he promised you: may As 'twere, my daughter's eyes : and, to be plain, be, he has paid you more; which will shame you to I think, there is not half a kiss to choose,

give him again. Who loves another best.

Clo. Is there bo manners left among maids? will Pol. She dances featly;

they wear their plackets, where they should bear their


faces? Is there not milking-time, when you are going || me.-Wenches, I'll buy for you both :-Pedler, let's
co-berl, or kiln-hole, to whistle off these secrets; but have the first choice. Follow me, girls.
you must be little-tattling before all our guests? "Tis Aut. And


pay well for 'ein. [ Aside. sell they are whispering : Clamour your tongues, and Will you buy any tape, not a ward more.

Or lace for your cape, Mag. I have done. Come, you promised me a taw My dainty duck, my dear-a ? dry lace, and a pair of sweet gloves.

Any silk, any thread, Cle. Have I not told thee, how I was cozened by the Any toys for your head, way, and lost all my money?

of the new'st, and fin'st, fin'st weara? Aut. And, indeed, sir, there are cozeners abroad; Come to the pedler ; therefore it behoves men to be wary.

Money's a medler, Cle. Fear dot thou, man; thou shalt lose nothing That doth utter all men's ware-a. kere.

[Exeunt Clown, Aut. Ddr. and Mop. Aut. I hope so, sir ; for I have about me many par

Enter a Servant. als of charge.

Ser. Master, there is three carters, three shepherds, Cle. What hast bere? ballads ?

three neat-herds, three swine-herds, that have made Nep. Pray now, buy some: I love a ballad in print, | theinselses all men of hair; they call themselves sala'bife ; for then we are sure they are true.

ciers: and they have a dance, which the wenches say Aut. Here's one to a very doleful tune, How a usu

is a gallimaufry of gambols, because they are not rer's wife was brought to-bed of twenty money-bags | in't; but they themselves are o'the mind, (if it be not * a burden; and how she longed to eat adders' heads, too rough for some, that know little but bowling) it and toads carbonadoed.

will please plentifully. Mep. Is it true, think you?

Shep. Away! we'll none on't ; here has been too Aut. Very true; and but a month old.

much humble foolery already :- I know, sir, we weaDør. Bless me from marrying a usurer!

ry you. Ast. Here's the midwife's name to't, one mistress

Pol. You weary those that refresh us: Pray, let's Taleporter; and five or six honest wives' that were

see these four-threes of herdsmen. present: Why should I carry lies abroad?

Ser. One three of them, by their own report, sir, Map. 'Pray you now. buy it.

hath danced before the king; and not the worst of the Cia. Come on, lay it by: and let's first see more three, but jumps twelve foot and a half by the squire. ballads; we'll buy the other things anon.

Shep. Leave your prating; since these good men Aut. Here's another ballad, Of a fish, that appeared are pleased, let them come in ; but quickly now. open the coast, on Wednesday the fourscore of April,

Ser. Why, they stay at door, sir.

[Erit. ferty thousand fathom above water, and sung this ballal against the hand hearts of maids : it was thought, Re-enter Servant, with twelve Rustics, habited like Soshe was a woman, and was turned into a cold fish, for tyrs. They dance, and then exeunt. she would not exchange flesh with one that loved her : Pol. O, father, you'll know more of that hereafter.The ballad is very pitiful, and as true.

Is it not too far gone ?-'Tis time to part them.Der. Is it true too, think you?

He's simple, and tells much. [Aside.- How now, fair At, Five justices' hands at it; and witnesses, more shepherd ? than my pack will hold.

Your heart is full of something, that does take Cle. Lay it by too: Another.

Your mind from feasting. Sooth, when I was young, Aut. This is a merry ballad ; but a very pretty one. And handed love, as you do, I was wont Nap. Let's have some merry ones.

To load my she with knacks: I would have ransack'd Aut. Why, this is a passing merry one; and goes | The pedler's silken treasury, and have pour'd it to the tune of, Two maisis wooing a man: there's | To her acceptance ; you have let him go, searce a maid westward, but she sings it; 'tis in re- | And nothing marted with him : If your lass quest, I can tell you.

Interpretation should abuse ; and call this, Map. We can both sing it; if thou'lt bear a part, Your lack of love, or bounty; you were straited twu shalt hear; 'tis in three parts.

For a reply, at least, if you make a care Der. We had the tune on't a month ago.

Of happy holding her. Aut. I can hear my part ; you must know, 'tis my Flo.

Old sir, I know, cupation : have at it with you.

She prizes not such trilles as these are:

The gifts, she looks from me, are packd and lock'd A. Get you bene, for I must go;

Up in my heart ; which I have given already, Where, it fits not you to know.

But not deliver'd.-0, hear me breathe my life

Before this ancient sir, who, it should seem,
D. Whither! M 0, whither ? D. Whither??
M. It becomes thy oath full well,

Hath sometime lov'd: I take thy hand; this hand,

As soft as dove's down, and as wbite as it; Thou to me thy secrets tell :

Or Ethiopian's tooth, or the fann'd snow, D. Me too, let me go thither.

That's holted by the northern blast twice o'er. M. Or thou go'st to the grange, or mill:

Pol. What follows this?D. If to either, thou dost ill.

How prettily the young swain scems to wash A. Neither. D. What, neither? A. Neither. The hand, was fair before! I have put you ont:D. Thou hast sworn my love to be ;

But, to your protestation ; let me hear M. Thou hast sworn it more to me:

What you profess. Then, whither goʻst? say, whither?


Do, and be witness to't.
Cl". We'll have this song out anon by ourselves : Pol. And this my neighbour too?
My father and the gentlemen are in sad talk, and we'll Flo.

And he, and more not trouble them : Come, bring away thy pack after ' Than he, and men ; the earth. the heavens, and all

That;-were I crownd the most imperial monarch, Of excellent witchcraft; who, of force, must know

Thereof most worthy; were I the fairest youth The royal fool thou cop'st with;
That ever made eyć swerve; had force, and knowl Shep.

O, my heart ! edge,

Pol. I'll have thy beauty scratch'd with briars, and More than was ever man's, I would not prize them, made Without her love: for ber, employ them all; More homely than thy state.--For thee, fond boy,Commend them, and condemn them, to her service, If I may ever know, thou dost but sigh, Or to their own perdition.

That thou no more shall see this knack, (as never Pol. Fairly offerd.

I mean thou shalt.) we'll bar thee from succession; Cam. This shows a sound affection.

Not hold thee of our blood, no, not our kin, Shep.

But, my daughter, Far than Deucalion off':-Mark thou my words ; Say you the like to him?

Follow us to the court.--Thou churl, for this time, Per. I cannot speak

Though full of our displeasure, yet we free thee So well, nothing so well; no, nor mean better: From the dead blow of it-And you, enchantmentBy the pattern of mine own thoughts I cut out Worthy enough a herdsman; yea, him too, The purity of his.

That makes himself, but for our honour therein, Shep. Take hands, a bargain ;

Unworthy thee,-if ever, henceforth, thou And, friends unknown, you shall bear witness to't: These rural latches to his entrance open, I give my daughter to him, and will make

Or hoop his body more with thy embraces,
Her portion equal his.

I will devise a death as cruel for thee,
O, that must be
As thou art tender to't.

[Exit. l' the virtue of your daughter: one being dead,


Even here undone ! I shall bave more than you can dream of yet; I was not much afeard : for once, or twice, Enough then for your wonder: But, come on, I was about to speak; and tell him plainly, Contract us 'fore these witnesses.

The self-same sun, that shines upon his court, Slup.

Come, your hand; Hides not his visage from our cottage, but And, daughter, yours.

Looks on alike.-Will't please you, sir, be gone? .Pol. Soft, swain, a while, 'beseech you ;

(T- Florizel. Have you a father?

I told you, what would come of this : 'Beseech you, Flo.

I have : But what of lim? Of your own state take care : this dream of mine, Pol. Knows he of this?

Being now awake, I'll queen it no inch further, Flo.

He neither does, nor shall. But snilk my ewes, and weep. Pol, Methinks, a father


Why, how now, father? Is, at the nuptial of his son, a guest

Speak, ere thou diest. That best becomes the table : Pray you, once more ; Shep.

I cannot speak, nor think, Is not your father grown incapable

Nor dare to know that which I know.-0, sir, Of reasonable affairs ? is he not stupid

[To Florizel. With age, and altering rheums? Can he speak? hear? You have undone a man of fourscore three, Know man from man? dispute his own estate? That thought to fill his grave in quiet ; yea, Lies he not bed-rid? and again does nothing,

To die upon the bed my father died, But what he did being childish?

To lie close by his honest bones : but now Flo.

No, goo: sir; Some hangman must put on my shroud, and lay me Ile has his health, and ampler strength, indeed, Where no priest shovels-in dust.–O cursed wretch! Than most have of his age.

(To Perdita. Pol.

By my white beard, That knew'st this was the prince, and would'st adYou offer him, if this be so, a wrong

Venture Something unfilial: Reason, my son

To mingle faith with him.-Undone! undone ! Should choose himself a wife; but as good reason, If I might die within this hour, I bave livd The father, (all whose joy is nothing else

To die when I desire.

(E.rit. But fair posterity,) should hold some counsel


Why look you so upon me? In such a business.

I am but sorry, not afeard; delay'd,
I yield all this;

But nothing alter'd : What I was, I am:
But, for some other reasons, my grave sir,

More straining on, for plucking back; not following Which 't is not fit you know, I not acquaint

My leash unwillingly. My father of this business.


Gracious my lond,
Let him know't.

You know your father's temper: at this time
Flo. He shall not.

Ile will allow no speech, - which, I do guess,
Priythee, let him.

You do not purpose him ;-and as hardly

No, he must not.

Will he endure your sight as yet, I fear: Shep. Let him, my son ; he shall not need to grieve | Then, till the fury of his highuess settle, At knowing of thy choice.

Come not before him. rlo. Come, coine, he must not :


I not purpose it.
Mark our contract.

I think, Camillo.
Mark your divorce, young sir,


Even he, my lord. [Discovering himself. Per. How often have I told you, 'twould be thus? Whom son I dare not call; thou art too base

How often said, my dignity would last To be acknowledg'd: Thou a sceptre's heir,

But till 'lwere known? That thus aifect'st a sheep-book ?-Thou old traitor, Flo.

It cannot fail, but by
I am sorry, that, by hanging thee, I ean but

The violation of my faith; And then
Shorten thy life one week.-And thou, fresh piece Let nature crush the sides o'the earth together,


And mar the seeds within !-Lift up thy looks : A place, whereto you'll go?
From my succession wipe me, father! I


Not any yét:
An heir to my affection.

But as the unthought-on accident is guilty
Be advis'd.

To what we wildly do ; so we profess
Fls. I am; and by my fancy: if my reason Ourselves to be the slaves of chance, and fies
Will thereto be obedient, I have reason;

Of every wind that blows.
If not, may senses, better pleasd with madness,


Then list to me: Do bid it welcome.

This follows,-If you will not change your purpose, Сат. This is desperate, sir.

But undergo this flight;--make for Siçilia; Flg. So call it: but it does fulfil my vow;

And there present yourself, and your fair princess, I needs must think it honesty. Camillo,

(For so, I see, she must be,) 'fore Leontes; Not for Bohemia, nor the pomp that may

She shall be habited, as it becomes Ple thereat glean'd; for all the sun sees, or

The partner of your bed. Methinks, I see The close earth wombs, or the profound seas hide Leontes, opening his free arms, and weeping In unknown fathoms, will I break my oath

His welcomes forth : asks thee, the son, forgiveness, To this my fair belov'd: Therefore, I pray you, As 'twere i’ the father's person : kisses the bands As you have e'er been my father's honourd friend, Of your fresh princess : o'er and o'er divides him When he shall miss me, (as, in faith, I mean not 'Twixt his unkinduess and his kindness; the one To see him any more.) cast your good counsels He chides to hell, and bids the other grow, Upon his passion ; Let myself and fortune,

Faster than thought, or time. Tug for the time to come. This you may know,

Worthy Camillo,
And so deliver, -I am put to sen

What colour for my visitation shall I
With her, whom here I cannot hold on shore; Hold up before him?
And, most opportune to our need, I have


Sent by the king your facher A vessel rides fast by, but not prepard

To greet him, and to give him comforts. Sir, For this design. What course I mean to hold, The manner of your bearing towards him, with Shall nothing benefit your knowledge, nor

What you, as from your father, shall deliver, . Concern me the reporting.

Things known betwixt us three, I'll write you dowo : Çem. 0, my lord,

The which shall point you forth at every sitting, I would your spirit were easier for advice,

What you must say; that he shall not perceive, Or stronger for your need.

But that you have your father's bosom there,
· Hark, Perdita.

And speak his very heart.
[Takes her aside.

I am bound to you:
I'll hear you by and by

[To Camillo. There is some sap in this. Сат. . He's irremotable,


A course more promising Resolvd for flight: Now were I happy, if

Than a wild dedication of yourselves His guing I could frame to serve my turn;

To unpath'd waters, undream'd shores; most certain, Sare him from danger, do him love and honour; To miseries enough: no hope to belp you ; Purchase the sight again of dear Sicilia,

But, as you shake off one, to take another: And that unhappy king, my master, whom

Nothing so certain as your anchors; who
I so much thirst to see.

Do their best office, if they can but stay you
Now, good Camillo,

Where you'll be loath to be: Besides, you know, I an so fraught with curious business, that

Prosperity's the very bond of love ; I leave out ceremony.

[Going. | Whose fresh complexion and whose heart together Cam. Sir, I think,

Affliction alters. You have board of my poor services, i'the love


One of these is true :
That I have borne your father?

I think, affliction may subdue the cheeling
Very nobly

But not take in the mind.
Have you deservd : it is my father's music,


Yea, say you so? To speak your deeds ; not little of his care

There shall not, at your father's house, these seven To have then recompens’d as thought on.


Well, my lord, Be born another such. If you may please to think I lov'd the king;


My good Camillo,
And, through him, what is nearest to him, which is She is as forward of her breeding, as
Your gracious self; embrace but my direction, I'the rear of birth.
(If your more ponderous and settled project


I cannot say, 'tis pity May suffer alteration,) on mine honour

She lacks instructions; for she seemns a mistress rill point you where you shall have such receiving To most that teach. As shall become your highness; where you may Per.

Your pardon, sir, for this;
Enjoy your mistress ; (from the wbom, I see, I'll blush you thanks.
There's no disjunction to be made, but by,


My prettiest Perdita.
As heavens forefend ! your ruin :) marry her ; But, O, the thorns we stand upon !--Camillo,
And (with my best enluavours, in your absence,) Preserver of my father, now of ine;
Your discontenting father strive to qualify,

The medicine of our house !-how shall we do? And bring him up to liking.

We are not furnish'd like Bohemia's son;
How, Camillo,

Nor shall appear in Sicily
May this, almost a miracle, be done?


My lord, That I may call thee something more thau man, Fear none of this: I think, you know, my fortune And, after that, trust to thee.

Do all lie there: it shall be so my care Cam.

Have you thought on To bave you royally appointed, as if



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