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Nor I in yours,

the ring,


What ring, gave you, my lord ? And there's an oath of credit. Not that, I hope, which you receiv'd of me.


Nay, but hear me. Bass. If I could add a lie unto a fault,

Pardon this fault, and by my soul I swear, I would deny it; but you see, my finger

I never more will break an oath with thee. Hath not the ring upon it: it is gone.

Ant. I once did lend my body for his wealth, Por. Even so void is your false heart of truth. Which, but for him that had your husband's ring, By heaven, I will ne'er come in your bed

Had quite miscarried: I dare be bound again, Until I see the ring.

My soul upon the forfeit, that your

lord Ner.

Will never more break faith advisedly. Till I again see mine.

Por. Then, you shall be his surety. Give him this, Bass. Sweet Portia,

And bid him keep it better than the other. If you did know to whom I gave the ring,

Ant. Here, lord Bassanio; swear to keep this ring. If you did know for whom I gave the ring,

Bass. By heaven! it is the same I gave the doctor. And would conceive for what I


Por. I had it of him: pardon me, Bassanio, And how unwillingly I left the ring,

For by this ring the doctor lay with me. When naught would be accepted but the ring,

Ner. And pardon me, my gentle Gratiano, You would abate the strength of your displeasure. For that same scrubbed boy, the doctor's clerk,

Por. If you had known the virtue of the ring, In lieu of this last night did lie with me. Or half her worthiness that gave the ring,

Gra. Why, this is like the mending of highways Or your own honour to retain the ring,

In summer, when the ways are fair enough. You would not then have parted with the ring. What! are we cuckolds, ere we have deserv'd it? What man is there so much unreasonable,

Por. Speak not so grossly.--You are all amaz'd: If you had pleas'd to have defended it

Here is a letter, read it at your leisure; With any terms of zeal, wanted the modesty

It comes from Padua, from Bellario: To urge the thing held as a ceremony?

There you shall find, that Portia was the doctor; Nerissa teaches me what to believe :

Nerissa there, her clerk. Lorenzo, here, I'll die for't, but some woman had the ring.

Shall witness I set forth as soon as you, Bass. No, by mine honour, madam, by my soul, And even but now return'd: I have not yet No woman had it; but a civil doctor,



house.—Antonio, you are welcome; Which did refuse three thousand ducats of me, And I have better news in store for you, And begg'd the ring, the which I did deny him, Than you expect: unseal this letter soon ; And suffer'd him to go displeas'd away,



shall find, three of your argosies Even he that had held up the very life

Are richly come to harbour suddenly.
Of my dear friend. What should I say, sweet lady? You shall not know by what strange accident
I was enforc'd to send it after him:

I chanced on this letter.
I was beset with shame and courtesy;


I am dumb. My honour would not let ingratitude

Bass. Were you the doctor, and I knew you not? So much besmear it. Pardon me, good lady,

Gra. Were you the clerk, that is to make me cuckold? For, by these blessed candles of the night,

Ner. Ay; but the clerk that never means to do it, Had you been there, I think, you would have begg'd Unless he live until he be a man. The ring of me to give the worthy doctor.

Bass. Sweet doctor, you shall be

bedfellow : Por. Let not that doctor e'er come near my house. When I am absent, then, lie with my wife. Since he hath got the jewel that I lov'd,

Ant. Sweet lady, you have given me life, and living, And that which you did swear to keep for me, For here I read for certain that my ships I will become as liberal as you:

Are safely come to road. I'll not deny him any thing I have ;


How now, Lorenzo ? No, not my body, nor my husband's bed.

My clerk hath some good comforts, too, for you. Know him I shall, I am well sure of it:

Ner. Ay, and I'll give them him without a fee.Lie not a night from home; watch me like Argus ; There do I give to you and Jessica, If you do not, if I be left alone,

From the rich Jew, a special deed of gift, Now, by mine honour, which is yet mine own, After his death, of all he dies possess d of. I'll have that doctor for my bedfellow.

Lor. Fair ladies, you drop manna in the way Ner. And I his clerk; therefore, be well advis'd

Of starved people. How you do leave me to mine own protection.


It is almost morning, Gra. Well, do you so: let not me take him, then; And yet, I am sure, you are not satisfied For, if I do, I'll mar the young clerk's pen.

Of these events at full. Let us go in; Ant. I am th' unhappy subject of these quarrels. And charge us there upon inter'gatories, Por. Sir, grieve not you; you are welcome notwith- And we will answer all things faithfully. standing.

Gra. Let it be so: the first inter'gatory, Bass. Portia, forgive me this enforced wrong; That my Nerissa shall be sworn on, is, And in the hearing of these many friends

Whether till the next night she had rather stay, I swear to thee, even by thine own fair eyes,

Or go to bed now, being two hours to day ? Wherein I see myself, —

But were the day come, I should wish it dark, Por.

Mark you but that! Till I were couching with the doctor's clerk. In both my eyes he doubly sees himself;

Well, while I live, I'il fear no other thing In each eye, one:-swear by your double self, So sore, as keeping safe Nerissa's ring. [Ereunt.


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} Shepherds.

DUKE, Senior, living in exile.

Touchstone, a Clown. FREDERICK, his Brother, usurper of his dominions. Sir Oliver Mar-Text, a Vicar. AMIENS, ] Lords attending upon the exiled


Silvius, LE BEAU, a Courtier.

William, a Country Fellow, in love with Audrey. OLIVER,

JAQUES, Sons of Sir Rowland de Bois.

Rosalind, Daughter to the exiled Duke.
Servants to Oliver.

Celia, Daughter to the usurping Duke.

Phebe, a Shepherdess. Charles, a Wrestler.

Audrey, a Country Wench.

Lords; Pages, Foresters, and Attendants. The SCENE lies, first, near Oliver's House; afterwards, in the Usurper's Court, and in the Forest of Arden.

ACT I. SCENE I.-An Orchard, near Oliver's House.

Oli. Marry, sir, be better employed, and be naught

awhile. Enter ORLANDO and Adam.

Orl. Shall I keep your hogs, and eat husks with Orl

. As I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion: them? What prodigal portion have I spent, that I he bequeathed me by will, but a poor thousand crowns; should come to such penury? and, as thou say’st, charged my brother on his blessing Oli. Know you where you are, sir? 1 to breed me well : and there begins my sadness. My Orl. O! sir, very well : here, in your orchard. brother Jaques he keeps at school, and report speaks Oli. Know you before whom, sir? goldenly of his profit: for my part, he keeps me rusti- Orl. Ay, better than he I am before knows me. I cally at home, or, to speak more properly, stays me know, you are my eldest brother; and, in the gentle | here at home unkept; for call you that keeping for a condition of blood, you should so know me. The courgentleman of my birth, that differs not from the stall- tesy of nations allows you my better, in that you are ing of an ox? His horses are bred better; for, besides the first-born ; but the same tradition takes not away that they are fair with their feeding, they are taught my blood, were there twenty brothers betwixt us. I their manage, and to that end riders dearly hired: but have as much of my father in me, as you, albeit, I con1, his brother, gain nothing under him but growth, for fess, your coming before me is nearer to his reverence. the which bis animals on his dunghills are as much Oli. What, boy! , bound to him as I. Besides this nothing that he so Orl. Come, come, elder brother, you are too young plentifully gives me, the something that nature gave in this. me, his countenance seems to take from me: he lets Oli. Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain? me feed with his hinds, bars me the place of a brother, Orl. I am no villain: I am the youngest son of sir and, as much as in him lies, mines my gentility with Rowland de Bois; he was my father, and he is thrice my education. This is it, Adam, that grieves me; and a villain, that says, such a father begot villains. Wert the spirit of my father, which I think is within me, thou not my brother, I would not take this hand from begins to mutiny against this servitude. I will no thy throat, till this other had pulled out thy tongue for longer endure it, though yet I know no wise remedy saying so. [Shaking him.] Thou hast railed on thyhow to avoid it.

self. Adam. Yonder comes my master, your brother. Adam. [Coming forward.] Sweet masters, be patient: Orl. Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how he for your father's remembrance, be at accord.

[Adam retires.

Oli. Let me go, I say.
Enter Oliver.

Orl. I will not, till I please : you shall hear me. Oli. Now, sir! what make you here?

My father charged you in his will to give me good Orl. Nothing: I am not taught to make any thing. education : you have trained me like a peasant, obOli. What mar you then, sir?

scuring and hiding from me all gentleman-like quali01l. Marry, sir, I am helping you to mar that which ties: the spirit of my father grows strong in me, and I God made, a poor unworthy brother of yours, with idle- will no longer endure it; therefore, allow me such ex

ercises as may become a gentleman, or give me the

will sbake me up.


poor allottery my father left me by testament: with tion, an envious emulator of every man's good parts, that I will go buy my fortunes.

a secret and villanous contriver against me his natural Oli. And what wilt thou do? beg, when that is brother: therefore, use thy discretion. I had as lief spent? Well, sir, get you in : I will not long be trou- thou didst break his neck as his finger: and thou wert bled with you; you shall have some part of your will. best look to't; for if thou dost him any slight disgrace, I pray you, leave me.

or if he do not mightily grace himself on thee, he will Orl. I will no further offend you, than becomes me practise against thee by poison, entrap thee by some for my good.

treacherous device, and never leave thee till he hath Oli. Get you with him, you old dog.

ta'en thy life by some indirect means or other; for, I Adam. Is old dog my reward? Most true, I have assure thee (and almost with tears I speak it) there is lost my teeth in your service.—God be with my old not one so young and so villanous this day living. I master! he would not have spoke such a word. speak but brotherly of him; but should I anatomize

[Exeunt Orlando and Adam. him to thee as he is, I must blush and weep, and thou Oli. Is it even so ? begin you to grow upon me? I must look pale and wonder. will physic your rankness, and yet give no thousand Cha. I am heartily glad I came hither to you. If crowns neither. Hola, Dennis !

he come to-morrow, I'll give him his payment: if ever Enter Dennis.

he go alone again, I'll never wrestle for prize more. Den. Calls your worship?

And so, God keep your worship!

[Erit. Oli. Was not Charles, the duke's wrestler, here to Oli. Farewell good Charles.—Now will I stir this speak with me?

gamester. I bope, I shall see an end of him; for my Den. So please you, he is here at the door, and im- soul, yet I know not why, bates nothing more than he : portunes access to you.

yet he's gentle; never schooled, and yet learned ; full Oli. Call him in. [Exit Dennis.]—'Twill be a good of noble device; of all sorts enchantingly beloved, and, way; and to-morrow the wrestling is.

indeed, so much in the heart of the world, and espeEnter CHARLES.

cially of my own people, who best know him, that I am Cha. Good morrow to your worship.

altogether misprised. But it shall not be so long; this Oli. Good monsieur Charles, what's the new news at wrestler shall clear all: nothing remains, but that I kinthe new court?

dle the boy thither, which now I'll go about. [Exit. Cha. There's no news at the court, sir, but the old SCENE II.-A Lawn before the Duke's Palace. news; that is, the old duke is banished by his younger

Enter ROSALIND and CELIA. brother the new duke, and three or four loving lords have put themselves into voluntary exile with him, Cel. I pray thee, Rosalind, sweet my coz, be merry. whose lands and revenues enrich the new duke; there- Ros. Dear Celia, I show more mirth than I am misfore, he gives them good leave to wander.

tress of, and would you yet I were merrier? Unless Oli. Can you tell, if Rosalind, the old duke's daugh- you could teach me to forget a banished father, you ter, be banished with her father?

must not learn me how to remember any extraordinary Cha. O! no; for the new duke's daughter, her cousin, pleasure. so loves her, being ever from their cradles bred toge- Cel. Herein, I see, thou lovest me not with the full ther, that she would have followed her exile, or have weight that I love thee. If my uncle, thy banished died to stay behind her. She is at the court, and no father, had banished thy uncle, the duke my father, so less beloved of her uncle than his own daughter; and thou hadst been still with me, I could have taught my never two ladies loved as they do.

love to take thy father for mine : so would'st thou, if Oli. Where will the old duke live?

the truth of thy love to me were so righteously temCha. They say, he is already in the forest of Arden, pered, as mine is to thee. and a many merry men with him; and there they live Ros. Well, I will forget the condition of my estate, like the old Robin Hood of England. They say, many to rejoice in yours. young gentlemen flock to him every day, and fleet the Cel. You know, my father hath no child but I, nor time carelessly, as they did in the golden world. none is like to have; and, truly, when he dies, thou

Oli. What, you wrestle to-morrow before the new shalt be his heir : for what he hath taken away from duke?

thy father perforce, I will render thee again in affecCha. Marry, do I, sir; and I came to acquaint you tion: by mine honour, I will; and when I break that with a matter. I am given, sir, secretly to understand, oath let me turn monster. Therefore, my sweet Rose, that your younger brother, Orlando, hath a disposition my dear Rose, bė merry. to come in disguised against me, to try a fall. To- Ros. From henceforth I will, coz, and devise sports. morrow, sir, I wrestle for my credit, and he that escapes Let me see; what think you of falling in love? me without some broken limb shall acquit him well. Cel. Marry, I pr‘ythee, do, to make sport withal: Your brother is but young, and tender; and, for your but love no man in good earnest; nor no further in love, I would be loath to foil him, as I must for my sport neither, than with safety of a pure blush thou own honour if he come in : therefore, out of my love may'st in honour come off again. to you I came hither to acquaint you withal, that Řos. What shall be our sport then ? either you might stay him from his intendment, or Cel. Let us sit, and mock the good housewife, Forbrook such disgrace well as he shall run into, in that tune, from her wheel, that her gifts may henceforth be it is a thing of his own search, and altogether against bestowed equally.

Ros. I would, we could do so; for her benefits are Oli. Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, which, mightily misplaced, and the bountiful blind woman thou shalt find, I will most kindly requite. I had doth most mistake in her gifts to women. myself notice of my brother's purpose herein, and have, Cel. 'Tis true, for those that she makes fair, she by underhand means, laboured to dissuade him from scarce makes honest; and those that she makes honest, it; but he is resolute. I'll tell thee, Charles: it is she makes very ill-favoured. the stubbornest young fellow of France; full of ambi- Ros. Nay, now thou goest from fortune's office to

my will.

for you.

nature's: fortune reigns in gifts of the world, not in Le Beau. I will tell you the beginning; and, if it the lineaments of nature.

please your ladyships, you may see the end, for the Enter Touchstone.

best is yet to do: and here, where you are, they are Cel. No: when nature hath made a fair creature, coming to perform it. may she not by fortune fall into the fire ?—Though Cel. Well,—the beginning, that is dead and buried. nature hath given us wit to flout at fortune, hath not Le Beau. There comes an old man, and his three fortune sent in this fool to cut off the argument? sons,

Ros. Indeed, there is fortune too hard for nature, Cel. I could match this beginning with an old tale. when fortune makes nature's natural the cutter off of Le Beau. Three proper young men, of excellent nature's wit.

growth and presence;Cel. Peradventure, this is not fortune's work neither, Ros. With bills on their necks,—“Be it known unto but nature's; who, perceiving our natural wits too dull all men by these presents," to reason of such goddesses, hath sent this natural for Le Beau. The eldest of the three wrestled with our whetstone: for always the dulness of the fool is Charles, the duke's wrestler; which Charles in a mothe whetstone of the wits.—How now, wit? whither ment threw him, and broke three of his ribs, that there wander you?

is little hope of life in him: so he served the second, Touch. Mistress, you must come away to your father. and so the third. Yonder they lie, the poor


man, Cel. Were you made the messenger?

their father, making such pitiful dole over them, that Touch. No, by mine honour; but I was bid to come all the beholders take his part with weeping.

Ros. Alas! Ros. Where learned you that oath, fool ?

Touch. But what is the sport, monsieur, that the Touch. Of a certain knight, that swore by his honour ladies have lost? they were good pancakes, and swore by his honour Le Beau. Why, this that I speak of. the mustard was naught: now, I'll stand to it, the Touch. Thus men may grow wiser every day! it is pancakes were naught, and the mustard was good, and the first time that ever I heard breaking of ribs was yet was not the knight forsworn.

sport for ladies. Cel. How prove you that, in the great heap of your Cel. Or I, I promise thee. knowledge?

Ros. But is there any else longs to see this broken Ros. Ay, marry: now unmuzzle your wisdom. music in his sides? is there yet another dotes upon

Touch. Stand you both forth now; stroke your chins, rib-breaking ?-Shall we see this wrestling, cousin ? and swear by your beards that I am a knave.

Le Beau. You must, if you stay here; for here is Cel. By our beards, if we had them, thou art. the place appointed for the wrestling, and they are

Touch. By my knavery, if I had it, then I were; ready to perform it. but if you swear by that that is not, you are not for- Cél. Yonder, sure, they are coming : let us now stay swom: no more was this knight, swearing by his honour, and see it. for he never had any; or if he had, he had sworn it Flourish. Enter Duke FREDERICK, Lords, Orlando, away before ever he saw those pancakes, or that mus

Charles, and Attendants. tard.

Duke F. Come on: since the youth will not be Cel. Pr'ythee, who is't that thou mean’st ?

entreated, his own peril on his forwardness. Touch. One that old Frederick, your father, loves. Ros. Is yonder the man?

Ros. My father's love is enough to honour him Le Beau. Even he, madam. enough. Speak no more of him: you'll be whipped Cel. Alas! he is too young: yet he looks successfully. for taxation, one of these days.

Duke F. How now, daughter, and cousin! are you Touch. The more pity, that fools may not speak crept hither to see the wrestling ? wisely, what wise men do foolishly.

Ros. Ay, my liege, so please you give us leave. | Cel. By my troth, thou say'st true; for since the Duke F. You will take little delight in it, I can tell little wit that fools have was silenced, the little foolery you, there is such odds in the men. In pity of the that wise men have makes a great show. Here comes challenger's youth I would fain dissuade him, but he monsieur Le Beau.

will not be entreated : speak to him, ladies ; see if you Enter Le Beau.

can move him. Ros. With his mouth full of news.

Cel. Call him hither, good monsieur Le Beau. Cel. Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed their Duke F. Do so : I'll not be by. [Duke goes apart. young.

Le Beau. Monsieur the challenger, the princess calls Ros. Then shall we be news-cramm’d.

Cel. All the better; we shall be the more marketable. Orl. I attend them with all respect and duty.
Bon jour, monsieur Le Beau : what's the news? Ros. Young man, have you challenged Charles the

Le Beau. Fair princess, you have lost much good wrestler ? sport.

Orl. No, fair princess; he is the general challenger: Cel. Spot? Of what colour ?

I come but in, as others do, to try with him the strength Le Beau. What colour, madam? How shall I of my youth. answer you?

Cel. Young gentleman, your spirits are too bold for Ros. As wit and fortune will.

your years. You have seen cruel proof of this man's Touch. Or as the destinies decree.

strength : if you saw yourself with our eyes, or knew Cel. Well said : that was laid on with a trowel. yourself with our judgment, the fear of your adventure Touch. Nay, if I keep not my rank,

would counsel you to a more equal enterprise. We Ros. Thou losest thy old smell.

pray you, for your own sake, to embrace your own 1. Le Beau. You amaze me, ladies : I would have safety, and give over this attempt. told you of good wrestling, which you have lost the Ros. Do, young sir : your reputation shall not theresight of.

fore be misprised. We will make it our suit to the Ros. Yet tell us the manner of the wrestling, duke, that the wrestling might not go forward.

for you.


Orl. I beseech you, punish me not with your hard That could give more, but that her hand lacks means.thoughts, wherein I confess me much guilty, to deny Shall we go, coz? so fair and excellent ladies any thing. But let your Cel.

Ay.-Fare you well, fair gentleman. fair eyes, and gentle wishes, go with me to my trial : Orl. Can I not say, I thank you? My better parts wherein if I be foiled, there is but one shamed that Are all thrown down, and that which here stands up was never gracious; if killed, but one dead that is Is but a quintaine, a mere lifeless block. willing to be so. I shall do my friends no wrong, for Ros. He calls us back. My pride fell with my fortunes; I have none to lament me; the world no injury, for in I'll ask him what he would.—Did you call, sir?it I have nothing; only in the world I fill up a place, Sir, you have wrestled well, and overthrown which may be better supplied when I have made it More than your enemies. empty.


Will you go, coz? Ros. The little strength that I have, I would it Ros. Have with


well. were with you.

[Exeunt Rosalind and Celia. Cel. And mine, to eke out hers.

Orl. What passion hangs these weights upon my Ros. Fare you well. Pray heaven, I be deceived tongue? in you!

I cannot speak to her, yet she urg'd conference. Cel. Your heart's desires be with you.

Re-enter Le Beau. Cha. Come; where is this young gallant, that is so O, poor Orlando! thou art overthrown. desirous to lie with his mother earth?

Or Charles, or something weaker, masters thee. Orl. Ready, sir; but his will hath in it a more Le Beau. Good sir, I do in friendship counsel you modest working

To leave this place. Albeit you have deserv'd Duke F. You shall try but one fall.

High commendation, true applause, and love, Cha. No, I warrant your grace, you shall not entreat Yet such is now the duke's condition, him to a second, that have so mightily persuaded him That he misconstrues all that you have done. from a first.

The duke is humorous : what he is, indeed, Orl. You mean to mock me after: you should not More suits you to conceive, than me to speak of. have mocked me before; but come your ways.

Orl. I thank you, sir ; and, pray you, tell me this: Ros. Now, Hercules be thy speed, young man! Which of the two was daughter of the duke, Cel. I would I were invisible, to catch the strong That here was at the wrestling? fellow by the leg. [CHARLES and ORLANDO wrestle. Le Beau. Neither his daughter, if we judge by Ros. O, excellent young man !

manners; Cel. If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell But yet, indeed, the shorter is his daughter: who should down. (CHARLES is thrown. Shout. The other is daughter to the banish'd duke, Duke F. No more, no more.

And here detain'd by her usurping uncle, Orl. Yes, I beseech your grace: I am not yet well To keep his daughter company; whose loves breathed.

Are dearer than the natural bond of sisters. Duke F. How dost thou, Charles ?

But I can tell you, that of late this duke
Le Beau. He cannot speak, my lord.

Hath ta'en displeasure 'gainst his gentle niece,
Duke F. Bear him away. [Charles is borne out. Grounded upon no other argument,
What is thy name, young man ?

But that the people praise her for her virtues,
Orl. Orlando, my liege: the youngest son of sir And pity her for her good father's sake;
Rowland de Bois.

And, on my life, his malice 'gainst the lady Duke F. I would, thou hadst been son to some man Will suddenly break forth.—Sir, fare you

well : else.

Hereafter, in a better world than this, The world esteem'd thy father honourable,

I shall desire more love and knowledge of you. But I did find him still mine enemy:

Orl. I rest much bounden to you: fare you well. Thou shouldst have better pleas’d me with this deed,

[Exit Le Beau. Hadst thou descended from another house.

Thus must I from the smoke into the smother; But fare thee well; thou art a gallant youth.

From tyrant duke, unto a tyrant brother.I would thou hadst told me of another father. But heavenly Rosalind !

[Exit. [Exeunt Duke Fred. Train, and LE BEAU.

SCENE III.-A Room in the Palace, Cel. Were I my father, coz, would I do this?

Enter Celia and RosALIND. Orl. I am more proud to be sir Rowland's son, His youngest son, and would not change that calling, Cel. Why, cousin ; why, Rosalind.--Cupid have To be adopted heir to Frederick.

mercy!— Not a word ? Ros. My father lov'd sir Rowland as his soul, Ros. Not one to throw at a dog. And all the world was of my father's mind.

Cel. No, thy words are too precious to be cast away Had I before known this young man his son,

upon curs; throw some of them at me: come, lame me I should have given him tears unto entreaties,

with reasons. Ere he should thus have ventur'd.

Ros. Then there were two cousins laid up, when the Cel.

Gentle cousin, one should be lamed with reasons, and the other mad Let us go thank him, and encourage bim : My father's rough and envious disposition

Cel. But is all this for


father? Sticks me at heart.-Sir, you have well deserv'd : Ros. No, some of it for my father's child. O, how If you do keep your promises in love

full of briars is this working-day world ! But justly, as you have exceeded all promise,

Cel. They are but burs, cousin, thrown upon thee Your mistress shall be happy.

in holiday foolery: if we walk not in the trodden Ros.


paths, our very petticoats will catch them.

[Giving him a chain. Ros. I could shake them off my coat: these burs Wear this for me, one out of suits with fortune, are in my heart.

without any:

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