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Gra. O learned judge!—Mark, Jew;-a learned | Provided, that he do record a gift, judge!

Shy. I take this offer then,-pay the bond
And let the Christian go.
[thrice,
Here is the money.

Bass.

Por. Soft! The Jew shall have all justice;-soft;-no haste;He shall have nothing but the penalty.

Gra. O Jew! an upright judge, a learned judge!
Por. Therefore, prepare thee to cut off the flesh.
Shed thou no blood; nor cut thou less, nor more,
But just a pound of flesh; if thou tak'st more,
Or less, than a just pound,-be it but so much
As makes it light, or heavy, in the substance,
Or the division of the twentieth part

Of one poor scruple,-nay, if the scale do turn
But in the estimation of a hair,-
Thou diest, and all thy goods are confiscate.
Gra. A second Daniel; a Daniel, Jew!
Now, infidel, I have thee on the hip.

[feiture.

Por. Why doth the Jew pause? take thy forShy. Give me my principal, and let me go. Bass. I have it ready for thee; here it is. Por. He hath refus'd it in the open court; He shall have merely justice, and his bond.

Gra. A Daniel, still say I; a second Daniel! I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word. Shy. Shall I not have barely my principal? Por. Thou shalt have nothing but the forfeiture, To be so taken at thy peril, Jew.

Shy. Why, then the devil give him good of it! I'll stay no longer question. Tarry, Jew;

Por.

The law hath yet another hold on you.

It is enacted in the laws of Venice,

If it be prov'd against an alien,

That by direct, or indirect attempts,
He seek the life of any citizen,

The party 'gainst the which he doth contrive
Shall seize one half his goods; the other half
Comes to the privy coffer of the state;
And the offender's life lies in the mercy
Of the duke only, 'gainst all other voice.
In which predicament, I say, thou stand'st:
For it appears by manifest proceeding,
That, indirectly, and directly too,

Thou hast contriv'd against the very life
Of the defendant; and thou hast incurr'd
The danger formerly by me rehears'd.
Down, therefore, and beg mercy of the duke.
Gra. Beg that thou may'st have leave to hang
thyself:

And yet, thy wealth being forfeit to the state,
Thou hast not left the value of a cord;

Therefore, thou must be hang'd at the state's charge.

Duke. That thou shalt see the difference of our spirit,

I pardon thee thy life before thou ask it:
For half thy wealth, it is Antonio's;
The other half comes to the general state,
Which humbleness may drive unto a fine.

Por. Ay, for the state; not for Antonio.
Shy. Nay, take my life and all; pardon not that:
You take my house, when you do take the prop
That doth sustain my house; you take my life,
When you do take the means whereby I live.
Por. What mercy can you render him, Antonio?
Gra. A halter gratis; nothing else, I hope.
Ant. So please my lord the duke, and all the
court,

To quit the fine for one half of his goods,

I am content, so he will let me have

The other half in use, to render it,

Upon his death, unto the gentleman
That lately stole his daughter;

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Here in the court, of all he dies possess'd,
Unto his son Lorenzo and his daughter.
Duke. He shall do this; or else I do recant
The pardon that I late pronounced here. [say?
Por. Art thou contented, Jew; what dost thou
Shy. I am content.

Por.
Clerk, draw a deed of gift.
Shy. I pray you give me leave to go from hence;
I am not well. Send the deed after me,
And I will sign it.
Duke.

Get thee gone, but do it. [Exit SHY. Duke. Sir, I entreat you home with me to dinner. Por: I humbly do desire your grace of pardon. I must away this night toward Padua, And it is meet I presently set forth.

[not.

Duke. I am sorry that your leisure serves you
Antonio, gratify this gentleman;
For, in my mind, you are much bound to him.
[Exeunt DUKE, Magnificoes, and Train,
Bass. Most worthy gentleman, I and my friend
Have by your wisdom been this day acquitted
Of grievous penalties; in lieu whereof,
Three thousand ducats, due unto the Jew,
We freely cope your courteous pains withal.
Ant. And stand indebted, over and above,
In love and service to you evermore.

Por. He is well paid that is well satisfied:
And I, delivering you, am satisfied,
And therein do account myself well paid;
My mind was never yet more mercenary.
I pray you know me, when we meet again;
I wish you well, and so I take my leave.

Bass. Dear sir, of force I must attempt you further;

Take some remembrance of us, as a tribute,
Not as a fee: grant me two things, I pray you,
Not to deny me, and to pardon me.

Por. You press me far, and therefore I will yield. [sake; Give me your gloves, I'll wear them for your And, for your love, I'll take this ring from

you:

Do not draw back your hand; I'll take no more, And you in love shall not deny me this.

Bass. This ring, good sir,-alas, it is a trifle;
I will not shame myself to give you this.
Por. I will have nothing else but only this;
And now, methinks, I have a mind to it.
Bass. There's more depends on this than on
the value.

The dearest ring in Venice will I give you,
And find it out by proclamation;
Only for this I pray you pardon me.

Por. I see, sir, you are liberal in offers:
You taught me first to beg; and now, methinks,
You teach me how a beggar should be answer'd.
Bass. Good sir, this ring was given me by my

wife;

And when she put it on, she made me vow
That I should neither sell, nor give, nor lose it.
Por. That 'scuse serves many men to save their

gifts.

An if your wife be not a mad woman,

And know how well I have deserv'd this ring,
She would not hold out enemy for ever,
For giving it to me. Well, peace be with you!
[Exeunt POR. and NER.
Ant. My Lord Bassanio, let him have the ring;
Let his deservings, and my love withal,
Be valued 'gainst your wife's commandment.

Bass. Go, Gratiano; run and overtake him ;
Give him the ring; and bring him, if thou canst,
Unto Antonio's house :-away, make haste.
[Exit GRATIANO.

Come, you and I will thither presently,
And in the morning early will we both
Fly toward Belmont. Come, Antonio. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.-A Street.

Enter PORTIA and NERISSA.

Enter STEPHANO.

Lor. Who comes so fast in silence of the night?
Steph. A friend.

Lor. A friend? what friend? your name, I pray
you, friend.

Steph. Stephano is my name; and I bring word,

Por. Inquire the Jew's house out, give him My mistress will before the break of day

this deed,

And let him sign it; we'll away to-night,
And be a day before our husbands home:
This deed will be well welcome to Lorenzo.

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This ring I do accept most thankfully,
And so, I pray you, tell him: Furthermore,
I pray you, show my youth old Shylock's house.
Gra. That will I do.

Ner.
Sir, I would speak with you :-
I'll see if I can get my husband's ring,

[TO PORTIA. Which I did make him swear to keep for ever. Por. Thou may'st, I warrant. We shall have old swearing,

That they did give the rings away to men;
But we'll outface them, and outswear them too.
Away, make haste; thou know'st where I will
tarry.

[house? Ner. Come, good sir, will you show me to this [Exeunt.

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Jes.
Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew;
And saw the lion's shadow ere himself,
And ran dismay'd away.

Lor.

In such a night,

Stood Dido with a willow in her hand

Upon the wild sea-banks, and wav'd her love
To come again to Carthage.

Jes.

Medea gather'd the enchanted herbs

In such a night,

In such a night,

That did renew old Eson.

Lor.

Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew;
And with an unthrift love did run from Venice,
As far as Belmont.

Jes.

In such a night,

Did young Lorenzo swear he lov'd her well;
Stealing her soul with many vows of faith,
And ne'er a true one.

Lor.
And in such a night,
Did pretty Jessica, like a little shrew,
Siander her love, and he forgave it her.

Jes. I would out-night you, did no

come:

But, hark, I hear the footing of a man.

• Reflection.

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Who comes with her?
Steph. None, but a holy hermit, and her maid.
I pray you, is my master yet return'd?

Lor. He is not, nor we have not heard from
him.-

But go we in, I pray thee, Jessica,

And ceremoniously let us prepare

Some welcome for the mistress of the house.
Enter LAUNCELOT.

Laun. Sola, sola! wo ha, ho! sola, sola!
Lor. Who calls?

Laun. Sola! Did you see Master Lorenzo, and
Mistress Lorenzo? sola, sola!

Lor. Leave hallooing, man; here.
Laun. Sola! where? where?

Lor. Here.

Laun. Tell him there's a post come from my master, with his horn full of good news; my master will be here ere morning. [Exit.

Lor. Sweet soul, let's in, and there expect their
coming.

And yet no matter;-Why should we go in?
My friend Stephano, signify, I pray you,
Within the house, your mistress is at hand:
And bring your music forth into the air.

[Exit STEPHANO.
How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank!
Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music
Creep in our ears; soft stillness, and the night,
Become the touches of sweet harmony.
Sit, Jessica. Look, how the floor of heaven
Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold.
There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st,
But in his motion like an angel sings,
Still quiring to the young-ey'd cherubins:
Such harmony is in immortal souls;
But whilst this muddy vesture of decay
Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.-

Enter Musicians.

Come, ho! and wake Diana with a hymn;
With sweetest touches pierce your mistress' ear,
And draw her home with music.

Jes. I am never merry when I hear sweet
music.
[Music.
Lor. The reason is, your spirits are attentive:
For do but note a wild and wanton herd,
Or race of youthful and unhandled colts, [loud,
Fetching mad bounds, bellowing, and neighing
Which is the hot condition of their blood;
If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound,
Or any air of music touch their ears,
You shall perceive them make a mutual stand,
Their savage eyes turn'd to a modest gaze,
By the sweet power of music: Therefore, the
[floods,-

poet
Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and
Since nought so stockish, hard, and fuli of rage,
But music for the time doth change his nature;
The man that hath no music in himself,

body Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds,
Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils;
The motions of his spirit are dull as night,
And his affections dark as Erebus:

Let no such man be trusted.-Mark the music.

Enter PORTIA and NERISSA at a distance. Por. That light we see is burning in my hall. How far that little candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world.

Ner. When the moon shone, we did not see the candle.

Por. So doth the greater glory dim the less: A substitute shines brightly as a king, Until a king be by; and then his state Empties itself, as doth an inland brook Into the main of waters. Music! hark!

Ner. It is your music, madam, of the house. Por. Nothing is good, I see, without respect; Methinks it sounds much sweeter than by day. Ner. Silence bestows that virtue on it, madam. Por. The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark, When neither is attended; and, I think The nightingale, if she should sing by day, When every goose is cackling, would be thought No better a musician than the wren. How many things by season season'd are To their right praise, and true perfection!Peace, ho! the moon sleeps with Endymion, And would not be awak'd! [Music ceases.

Lor. That is the voice, Or I am much deceiv'd, of Portia. [the cuckoo, Por. He knows me, as the blind man knows By the bad voice.

Lor.

Dear lady, welcome home.

Por. We have been praying for our husbands' welfare,

Which speed, we hope, the better for our words.
Are they return'd?

Lor.
Madam, they are not yet;
But there is come a messenger before,
To signify their coming.

Por.

Go in, Nerissa;

Give order to my servants, that they take
No note at all of our being absent hence;
Nor you, Lorenzo :-Jessica, nor you.

[A tucket sounds. Lor. Your husband is at hand; I hear his trumpet:

We are no tell-tales, madam; fear you not.
Por. This night, methinks, is but the daylight
sick.

It looks a little paler; 'tis a day,
Such as the day is when the sun is hid.
Enter BASSANIO, ANTONIO, GRATIANO, and their

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Gra. He will, an if he live to be a man. Ner. Ay, if a woman live to be a man. Gra. Now, by this hand, I gave it to a youth,A kind of boy; a little scrubbed boy, No higher than thyself, the judge's clerk; A prating boy, that begg'd it as a fee; I could not for my heart deny it him. Por. You were to blame, I must be plain with To part so slightly with your wife's first gift; A thing stuck on with oaths upon your finger, And riveted so with faith unto your flesh. I gave my love a ring, and made him swear Never to part with it; and here he standsI dare be sworn for him, he would not leave it, Nor pluck it from his finger, for the wealth That the world masters. Now, in faith, Gratiano, You give your wife too unkind a cause of grief; An 'twere to me, I should be mad at it.

Bass. Why, I were best to cut my left hand off, And swear I lost the ring defending it. [Aside. Gra. My Lord Bassanio gave his ring away Unto the judge that begg'd it, and, indeed, Deserv'd it too; and then the boy, his clerk, That took some pains in writing, he begg'd mine: And neither man, nor master, would take aught But the two rings.

Por. What ring gave you, my lord? Not that, I hope, which you receiv'd of me. Bass. If I could add a lie unto a fault, I would deny it; but you see, my finger Hath not the ring upon it; it is gone.

Por. Even so void is your false heart of truth. By heaven, I will ne'er come in your bed Until I see the ring. Nor I in yours,

Ner.

Till I again see mine.
Followers.

Bass. We should hold day with the Antipodes,
If you would walk in absence of the sun.
Por. Let me give light, but let me not be light;
For a light wife doth make a heavy husband,
And never be Bassanio so for me;
You are welcome home, my lord.

Bass. I thank you, madam: give welcome to
my friend.

This is the man, this is Antonio,
To whom I am so infinitely bound.

[him,

Por. You should in all sense be much bound to For, as I hear, he was much bound for you. Ant. No more than I am well acquitted of. Por. Sir, you are very welcome to our house : It must appear in other ways than words; Therefore, I scant this breathing courtesy.+

[GRA. and NER. seem to talk apart. Gra. By yonder moon, I swear you do me wrong;

In faith, I gave it to the judge's clerk.
Por. A quarrel, ho, already! what's the matter?

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Bass.

Sweet Portia,

If you did know to whom I gave the ring,
If you did know for whom I gave the ring,
And would conceive for what I gave the ring,
And how unwillingly I left the ring,
When nought would be accepted but the ring,
You would abate the strength of your displeasure.
Por. If you had known the virtue of the ring,
Or half her worthiness that gave the ring,
Or your own honour to contain the ring,
You would not then have parted with the ring.
What man is there so much unreasonable,
If you had pleas'd to have defended it
With any terms of zeal, wanted the modesty
To urge the thing held as a ceremony?
Nerissa teaches me what to believe;
I'll die for 't, but some woman had the ring.

Bass. No, by mine honour, madam, by my soul,
No woman had it, but a civil doctor,
Which did refuse three thousand ducats of me,
And begg'd the ring; the which I did deny him,
And suffer'd him to go displeas'd away;
Even he that had held up the very life
[lady?
Of my dear friend. What should I say, sweet
I was enforc'd to send it after him;
I was beset with shame and courtesy ;

My honour would not let ingratitude

So much besmear it. Pardon me, good lady;
For, by these blessed candles of the night,

Had you been there, I think, you would have begg'd

The ring of me to give the worthy doctor.

Ant. Here, Lord Bassanio, swear to keep this ring. [doctor! Bass. By heaven, it is the same I gave the Por. I had it of him.-You are all amaz'd: Here is a letter, read it at your leisure; It comes from Padua, from Bellario:

Por. Let not that doctor e'er come near my There you shall find, that Portia was the doctor;

house:

Since he hath got the jewel that I lov'd,

And that which you did swear to keep for me,

I will become as liberal as you;

I'll not deny him any thing I have;

Know him I shall, I am well sure of it:

Nerissa there, her clerk; Lorenzo here
Shall witness, I set forth as soon as you,
And but e'en now return'd; I have not yet
Enter'd my house.-Antonio, you are welcome;
And I have better news in store for you
Than you expect: unseal this letter scon;

Lie not a night from home; watch me, like There you shall find, three of your argosies
Argus;

If you do not, if I be left alone,

Now, by mine honour, which is yet mine own,
I'll have that doctor for my bedfellow.

Ner. And I his clerk; therefore be well advis'd,
How you do leave me to mine own protection.
Gra. Well, do you so let me not take him
then.

Ant. I am th' unhappy subject of these quarrels.
Por. Sir, grieve not you; you are welcome
notwithstanding.

Bass. Portia, forgive me this enforced wrong;
And, in the hearing of these many friends,
I swear to thee, even by thine own fair eyes,
Wherein I see myself,-

Por.

Mark you but that!

In both my eyes he doubly sees himself:
In each eye one-swear by your double self,
And there's an oath of credit.

Bass.
Nay, but hear me;
Pardon this fault, and by my soul I swear,
I never more will break an oath with thee.
Ant. I once did lend my body for his wealth,*
Which, but for him that had your husband's ring,
[TO PORTIA.

Had quite miscarried: I dare be bound again,
My soul upon the forfeit, that your lord
Will never more break faith advisedly. [this,
Por. Then you shall be his surety. Give him
And bid him keep it better than the other.

Are richly come to harbour suddenly:
You shall not know by what strange accident
I chanced on this letter.

Ant.

I am dumb.

[not? Bass. Were you the doctor, and I knew you Gra. Were you the clerk, that is to make me cuckold?

Ner. Ay; but the clerk that never means to do it,
Unless he live until he be a man.

Bass. Sweet doctor, you shall be my bedfellow;
When I am absent, then lie with my wife.
Ant. Sweet lady, you have given me life, and
living;

For here I read for certain, that my ships
Are safely come to road.

Por.

How now, Lorenzo?
My clerk hath some good comforts, too, for you.
Ner. Ay, and I'll give them him without
a fee.-

There do I give to you and Jessica,

Por.

From the rich Jew, a special deed of gift,
After his death, of all he dies possess'd of.
Lor. Fair ladies, you drop manna in the way
Of starved people.
It is almost morning,
And yet, I am sure, you are not satisfied
Of these events at full. Let us go in;
And charge us there upon inter'gatories,
And we will answer all things faithfully.

[Exeunt.

INTRODUCTION TO AS YOU LIKE IT

A FANCIFUL novel by Thomas Lodge, disfigured by the universal faults of old English novelists, printed in the year 1590, under the title of, Rosalynde; Euphues Golden Legacie, found after his death in his cell at Silexedra, has the honour of being the original of Shakespeare's delightful and popular comedy, As You Like It. In applying the term "fanciful" to this early romance, the reader must understand I allude only to the incidents of the tale. The manner in which the story is related is tedious and pedantic; and the style is insufferably affected. Ladies quote Latin, and all the speeches are erected on stilts.

The faults, bowever, of Lodge's novel, tend but to exhibit in brighter colours the gerius of the great author, who has adopted, in such a marvellous manner, every romantic touch that was worth preservation, destroying all recollection of the prosy original by the brilliant exuberance of his own imagination. The only redeeming features I can trace in Lodge are contained in some of the verses; and a poem, entitled Rosalynd's Madrigall, is distinguished by great

* Advantage.

poetic sweetness. It commences with the following lines:

"Love in my bosom like a bee

Doth suck his sweet;

Now with his wings he plays with me,
Now with his feet:

Within mine eyes he makes his nest,
His bed amidst my tender breast:
My kisses are his daily feast,
And yet he robs me of my rest.

Ah, wanton, will ye?"

Suffice it to say, that Gerismond and Torismond, the kings of France, answer to Shakespeare's exiled Duke, and the duke Frederick. Rosalind is transferred by name from the novel, but Celia was originally Alinda. They adopt, however, the same names when they are in the forest. Oliver, Jaques, and Orlando, are named Saladyne, Fernandyne, and Rosader, in the novel. The distribution of the property is different. In the novel, the father bequeaths to his eldest son fourteen ploughlands, with all his manors, houses, and richest plate; to his second son, twelve ploughlands; and to his youngest born, Rosader, he gives his horse, his armour, and his lance,

with sixteen ploughlands; "for," as he says in his will, if the inward thoughts be discovered by outward shadows, Rosader will exceed you all in bounty and honour." The elder brother resolves to defraud the younger; and afterwards, seeking his life, the latter takes refuge in Arden. Shakespeare has deviated from the novel in many minor particulars, but the broad incidents of the tale are the same in both the romance and the drama.

Lodge found the leading circumstances of his novel in the Cokes Tale of Gamelyn, a poem composed in the fifteenth century, erroneously attributed to Chaucer. Although this production had not appeared in print in Shakespeare's time, there seems no improbability in the supposition that he was acquainted with it; and Mr. Knight thinks he can trace some slight resemblance between that poem and As You Like It, not to be found in Lodge's novel.

The date of As You Like It, may be assigned to 1600, or the following year. It is not mentioned by Meres in 1598; and Marlowe's Hero and Leander, which is quoted in the third act, was not published till that year, although written, of course, long before. An entry of the play occurs on the registers of the Stationers' Company among some books "to be staied." No date is given, but it was between the years 1600 and 1603, and probably in 1600 or 1601; all the plays mentioned with it having been printed in those years. There is an allusion in the play itself, which would seem to prove that it was written before 1603. When Rosalind says, "I will weep for nothing, like Diana in the fountain," she is supposed to allude to an image of that goddess which was set up at a conduit in Cheap in 1596, and "water convayd from the Thames prilling from her naked breast for a time, but now decaied." This extract is taken from the edition of Stowe's Survey of London, which appeared at London in 1603, p. 269, 4to.

DUKE, living in exile.

Rosalind, in the epilogue, charges the women, "for the love you bear to men, to like as much of this play as please you." This appears to be the only clue to the title adopted by Shakespeare. As You Like It was formerly a sort of proverb, and is mentioned as a motto by Braithwaite.

The proverbial title of the play implies in itself that freedom of thought and indifference to censure, which characterises the sayings and doings of most of the actors in this comedy of human nature in a forest. Though said to be oftener read than any other of Shakespeare's plays, As You Like It is certainly less fascinating than several other of his comedies. The dramatist has presented us with a pastoral comedy, the characters of which, instead of belonging to an ideal pastoral age, are true copies of what nature would produce under similar conditions. The character of Jaques has been erroneously considered by all the critics. I regard him as a severe type of a dissipated man, naturally amiable, removed from the sphere of vicious attractions, and, left to his own reflections, of course dissatisfied with the world and himself. It must, however, be admitted there is an ascetic impression induced; and notwithstanding the nice varieties of character, most readers will probably admit that the vanity of active life has been the chief object of illustration. The poet has relieved the development of a melancholy subject and an insignificant story, by the introduction of a more than usual number of really individual subordinate characters. Even Rosalind, that beautiful but wilful representation of woman's passion, is not an important accessary to the moral purpose of the comedy; and the other characters, however gracefully delineated, are not amalgamated into an artistic action with that full power, which overwhelms us with astonishment in the grander efforts of Shakespeare's genius.

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FREDERICK, Brother to the Duke, and Usurper of his Dominions.

AMIENS, Lords attending on the Duke in his JAQUES, banishment.

LE BEAU, a Courtier attending upon Frederick. CHARLES, a Wrestler.

Sons of Sir Rowland de Bois.

OLIVER,

JAQUES,

ORLANDO,

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TOUCHSTONE, a Clown.

Lords belonging to the two Dukes; Pages, Foresters, and other Attendants.

The SCENE lies, forst, near Oliver's House; afterwards, partly in the Usurper's Court, and partly in the Forest of Arden. Jaques he keeps at school, and report speaks goldenly of his profit: for my part, he keeps me

Act First.

SCENE I.-An Orchard, near OLIVER's House. rustically at home, or, to speak more properly,

Enter ORLANDO and ADAM.

Orl. As I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion bequeathed me by will, but a poor thousand crowns; and, as thou say'st, charged my brother, on his blessing, to breed me well: and there begins my sadness. My brother

stays me here at home unkept. For call you that keeping for a gentleman of my birth, that differs not from the stalling of an ox? His horses are bred better; for, besides that they are fair with their feeding, they are taught their manage, and to that end riders dearly hir'd: but I, his brother, gain nothing under him but

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