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'Tis a brave cow. O, sirs, when Christinas comes, And thus, as all their matters stood,
These shins shall make the porridge grac'd with They got an honest livelihood.

Happy were mortals, could they be
Then, 'midst our cups, whilst wé profusely dine, From any sudden danger free!
This blade shall enter deep in Mully's chine.

Happy were poets, could their song
What ribs, what rumps, what bak’d, boild, stew'd,

The feeble thread of life prolong! and roast !

But, as these two went stro ling on, There shan't one single tripe of her be lost !”

Poor Dicé's scene of life was done: When Peggy, nymph of Mountown, heard these Away ber fleeting breath must fly, sounds,

Yet no one knows wherefore, or why, She griev'd to hear of Mully's future wounds.

This caus'd the general lamentation, “ What crime," said she, “has gentle Mully done?

To all that kuew her in her station; Witness the rising and the setting Sun,

How brisk she was still to advance That knows what milk she constantiy would give ! The harper's gain, and lead the dance, Let that quench Robin's rage, and Muily live.” In every tune observe her thrill,

Daniel, a sprightly swain, that us'd to slash Sing on, yet change the money still. The vigorous steeds that drew his lord's calash,

Orpheus best knew wbat loss he had, To Peggy's side inclin'd; for 'twas well known And, thinking on't, fell almost mad, How well he lov'd those cattle of his own.

And in despair to Linus rar, Then Terence spoke, oraculous and sly,

Who was esteem'd a cunning-man; He'd neither grant the question por deny;

Cried, “He again must Dicé have, Pleading for milk, his thoughts were on mince

Or else be buried in her grave.” pie:

Quoth Linus, “Soft, refrain your sorrow: But all his arguments so dubious were,

What fails today, may speed tomorrow, That Mully thence had neither hopes nor fear.

Thank you the gods for whate'er happens, “ You've spoke," says Robin; '“ but now, let

But don't fall out with your sat capons. me tell ye,

'Tis many an honest man's petition, 'Tis not fair spoken words that fill the belly:

That he may be in your condition. Pudding and beef I love; and cannot stoop

If such a blessing might be had, To recommend your bonny-clapper soup.

To change a living wife for dead, You say she's innocent: but wbat of that?

I'd be your ch: pman; nay, I'd do't, >Tis more than crime sufficient that she's fal! Though I gave forty pounds to boot. And that which is prevailing in this case

Consider first, you save her djet; Is, there's another cow to fill her place.

Consider next, you keep her quiet: And, granting Muhy to have milk in store,

For, pray, what was she ali along, Yet still this other cow will give us more.

Except the burthen of your song?
She dies."-Stop here, my Muse: forbear the rest : W bat, though your Dicé's under ground;
And veîl that grief which cannot be exprest! Yet many a woman may be found,

Who, in your gains if she may part take,
Trust me, will quickly make your beart ach:

Then, rest content, as widowers should-

The gods best know what's for our good!”

Orpheus no longer could endure FIRST PRINTED BY THE AUTHOR IN 1704. Such wounds, where he expected cure.

" Is't possible !” cried he: “ and can As poets say, one Orpheus went

That noble creature, married man, To Hell upon an odd intent.

In such a cause be so profane? First tell the story, then let's kuow,

I'll fiy thee far as I would Death, If any one will do so now.

Who from my Dicé took her breath." This Orpheus was a jolly boy,

Which said, he soon ontstript the wind, Born long before the siege of Troy;

Whilst pusting Boreas lagy'd behiud; His parents found the lad was sharp,

And to Urganda's cave he came, And taught him on the Irish harp;

A lady of prodigious fame, And, when grown fit for marriage-life,

Whose hollow eyes and bopper breech Gave him Eurydice for wife;

Made common people call her witch; And they, as soon as match was made,

Down at her feet hé prostrate lies, Set up the ballad-singing trade.

With trembling heart and blubber'd eyes, The cunning varlet could devise,

“ Tell me," said he, “ for sure you know For country folks, ten thousand lies;

The powers above, and those below, Affirming all those-monstrous tbings

Where does Eurydice remain ? Were done by force of harp and strings ;

How shall I fetch her back again ?" Could make a tiger in a trice

She smilingly replied, “I'll tell Tame as a cat, and catch your mice;

This easily without a spell : Could make a lion's courage flag,

The wife you look for 's gone to Hell And straight could animate a stag,

Nay, never start, man, for 'tis so; And, by the help of pleasing ditties,

Except one ill-bred wife or two, Make mill-stones run, and build up cities;

The fashion is, for all to go. Each had the use of fuent tongue,

Not that she will be damn'd; ne'er fear If Dicé scolded, Orpheus sung.

But she may get preferment there. And so, by discord without strife,

Indeed, she might be fried in pitch, Compos'd one harmony of life;

If she bad been a bitter bitch;

If she had leapt athwart a sword,

He did at length some glimmering spy, And afterwards had bruke her word.

By which, at least, he might descry But your Eurydice, poor soul!.

Ten thousand little fairy elves, Was a good-natur'd harmless fool;

Who there were solacing themselves. Except a little cattervawling,

All ran about him, cried, “Oh, dear! Was always painful in her calling;

Who thought to have seen Orpheus here ? And, I dare trust old Pluto fort,

'Tis that queen's birth-day which you see, She will tind favour in his court :

And you are come as luckily: But then to fetch her back, that still

You had no ballad but we bought it, Remains, and may be past iny skill;

Paid Dicé when she little thought it; For, 'tis too sad a thing to jest on,

When you beneath the yew-tree sat, You're the first man e'er ask'd the ques We've come, and all danc'd round your hat; tion;

But whereabouts did Dicé leave ye? For husbands are such selfish elves,

She had been welcome, sir, believe me." They care for little but themselves.

“ These little chits would make one swear," And then one rogue cries to another,

Quoth Orpheus, 'twixt disdain and fear. Since this wife's gone, e'en get another :

“ And dare these urchins jeer my crosses, Though most men let such thoughts alone,

And laugh at mine and Dicé's losses? And swear they've had enough of one.

Hands off-the monkeys hold the faster; But, since you are so kind to Dicé,

Sirrahs, I'm going to your master !” Follow the course which I advise ye;

“ Good words," quoth Oberon: “don't flinch; E'en go to Hell yourself, and try

For, every time you stir, I'll pinch; Th’ effect of music's harmony;

But, if you decently sit down, For you will hardly find a friend,

I'll first equip you with a crown; Whom you in such a case might send :

Then for each dance, and for each song, Besides, their Proserpine has been

Our pence apiece the whole night long." The briskest dancer on the green,

Orpheus, who found no remedy, Before old Pluto ravish'd her,

Made virtue of necessity; Took her to Hell -and you may swear,

Though all was out of tune, their dance She had but little music there;

Would only hinder his advance. For, since she last beheld the Sun,

Each note that from his fingers fell Her merry dancing days are done :

Seem'd to be Dicé's passing-bell; She has a colt's-tooth still, I warrant,

At last, night let him ease bis crupper, And will not disapprove your errand.

Get on his legs, to go to supper. Then your request does reason seem,

Quoth Nab, “We here have strangers seldom, For what's one single ghost to them?

But, sir, to what we have you're welcome.” Though thousand phantoms should invade ye,

“ Madam, they seem of light digestion. Pass on-faint heart ne'er won fair lady!

Is it not rude to ask a question, The bold a way will find, or make;

What they may be, fish, flesh, or fruit?
Remember, 'tis for Dicé's sake."

For I ne'er saw things so minute.”
Nothing pleas'd Orpheus half so well,
As news that he must go to Hell.

Th’impatient wight long'd to be going,
As most folks seek their own uudoing;

“ A roasted ant, that's nicely done, Ne'er thought of what he left behind;

By one small atom of the Sun. Never consider'd he should find

These are flies' eggs, in moon-shine poach'd; Scarce any passenger beside

This a flea's thigh in collops scotch'd, Himself, nor could he hire a guide.

'Twas hunted yesterday i'th' Park, “Will music do't?” cried he. “ Ne'er heed: And like t' have’scap'd us in the dark. My harp shall make the marble bleed;

This is a dish entirely new, My harp all dangers shall remove,

Butterflies' brains dissolv'd in dew; And dare all flames, but those of love.".

These lover's vows, these courtiers' hopes, Then kneeling begs, in terms most civil, Things to be eat by microscopes; Urganda's passport to the Devil.

These sucking mites, a glow-worm's heart, Her pass she kindly to him gave,

This a delicious rainbow-tart!" Then bade him 'noint himself with salve;

“ Madam, I find, they're very nice, Such as those hardy people use,

And will digest within a trice; Who walk on fire without their shoes,

I see there's nothing you esteem, Who, on occasion, in a dark bole,

That's half so gross as our whipt-cream; Cau gormandize on lighted charcoal,

And I infer, from all these meats, And drink eight quarts of flaming fuel,

That such light suppers keep clean sheets.” As men in flux do water-gruel.

“ But, sir,” said she, “perhaps you're dry!" She bade bim then go to those caves,

Then, speaking to a fairy by, Where conjurers keep fairy slaves,

“ You've taken care, my dear Endia, Such sort of creatures as will baste ye

All's ready for my ratifia.”
A kitchen-wench, for being nasty,
But, if she neatly scour her pewter,
Give her the money that is due ther.
Orpheus went down a narrow hole,

“ A drop of water, newly torn That was as dark as any coal;

Fresh from the rosy-fingerd Morn;

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A pearl of milk, that's gently prest

Then Bocai, smiling, cried, “ You see, From blooming Hebe's early breast;

Orpheus, you'd better stay with me. With half a one of Cupid's tears,

For, let me tell you, sir, this place, When he in embryo first appears;

Although it has an ugly face, And honey from an infant bee:

If to its value it were sold, Makes liquor for the gods and me!”

Is worth ten thousand ton of gold; “ Madam,” says he, “an't please your And very famous in all story, grace,

Call'd by the name of Purgatory. I'm going to a droughty place;

For, when some ages shall have run, And, if I an't too bold, pray charge her,

And Truth by Falsehood be undone, The draught I have be somewhat larger."

Shall rise the whore of Babylon; “ Fetch me,” said she, “a mighty bowl, And this same whore shall be a man, Like Oberon's capacious soul,

Who, by his lies and cheating, can And then fill up the burnish'd gold

Be such a trader in all evil, With juice that makes the Britons bold.

As to outdo our friend the Devil: This from seven barley-corns I drew,

He and his pimps shall say, that when Its years are seven, and to the view

A man is dying, thither then 'Tis clear, and sparkles fit for you.

The Devil comes to take the soul, “ But stay

And carry him down to this hole; When I by Fate was last time hurl'd,

But, if a man have store of wealth, To act my pranks in t'other world,

To get some prayers for his soul's health, I saw some sparks as they were drinking,

The Devil has then no more to do, With mighty mirth and little thinking,

But must be forc'd to let him go. 'Their jests were supernaculum,

But we are no more fools than they, I spatch'd the rubies from each thumb,

Thus to be bubbled of our prey. And in this crystal have them here,

By these same pious frauds and lies, Perhaps you'll like it more than beer.”

Shall many monasteries rise: Wine and late hours dissolv'd the feast,

Friars shall get good meat and beer, And men and fairies went to rest.

To pray folks out that ne'er came bere; The bed where Orpheus was to lie ,

Pans, pots, and kettles, shall be given, Was all stuff'd full of barmony:

To fetch a man from hence to Heaven. Purling streams and amorous rills,

Suppose a man has taken purșes, Dying sound that never kills,

Or stolen sheep, or cows, or horses, Zephyrus breathing, love delighting,

And chances to be hang'd; you'd cry, Joy to slumber soft inviting,

Let bir be hang'd, and so good-by. Trembling sounds that make no noise,

Hold, says the friar; let me alone, And songs to please without a voice,

He's but to Purgatory gone; Were mixt with down that fell from Jove,

And, if you'll let our convent keep When he became a swan for lore.

Those purses, cows, horses, and sheep, 'Twas night, and Nature's self lay dead, The fellow shall find no more pain, Nodding upon a feather-bed;

Than if he were alive again.” The mountains seem'd to bend their tops,

Here Orpheus sigh’d, began to take on, And shutters clos'd the milleners' shops,

Cried, “Could I find the whore you spake on, Excluding both the punks and tops;

I'd give him my best fitch of bacon: No ruffled streams to mill do come,

I'd give him cake and sugar'd sack, The silent fish were still more dumb;

If he would bring my Dicé back: Look in the chimney, not a spark there,

Rather than she should longer stay, And darkness did itself grow darker.

I'd find some lusty man to pray. But Orpheus could not sleep a wink,

And then poor Dicé, let him try her, He had too many things to tbink:

I dare say, would requite the friar.” But, in the dark, his harp he strung,

Great Nosnotbocai smild to see And to the listening fairies sung.

Such goodness and simplicity. Prince Prim, who pitied so much youth Then kindly led them to a cell, Join'd with such constancy and truth,

An outward granary of Hell; Soon gave him thus to understand;

A filthy place, that's seldom swept, “ Sir, I last night receiv'd command

Where seeds of villany are kept. To see you out of fairy land,

“Orpheus,”-said he, “ Pd have you take Into the realm of Nosnotbocai;

Some of these seeds here, for my sake; But let not fear of sulphur choak ye;

Which, if they are discreetly hurl'd For he's a fiend of sense and wit,

Throughout the parts of tother world,
And has got many rooms to let.”

They may oblige the fiend you sue to,
As quick as thought, by glow-worm glimpse, And fill the palace of old Pluto.
Out walk the fidler and the prince.

“Sow pride-seed uppermost; then abore They soon arrive ; find Bocai brewing

Envy and scandal plant self-love. Of claret for a vintner's stewing.

Here take revenge, and malice without cause, “ I come from Oberon," quoth prince Prim. And here contempt of honesty and laws; “'Tis well,” quoth Bocai: “what from him?" This hot seed's anger, and this hotter lust,

“Why, something strange; this honest man Best sown with breach of friendship, and of trust: Had his wife died; now, if he can,

These storm, hail, plague, and tempest seeds; He says, he'd have her back again."

And this a quintessence of weeds;

This the worst sort of artichoke,

When I survey the world's harmonious frame, A plant that Pluto has himself bespoke,

How Nature lives immutably the same; Nourish it well,'tis useful treachery;

How'stated bounds and ambient shores restrain This is a choice though little seed, a lie:

The rolling surges of the briny main; Here take some now from these prodigious loads, How constant Time revolves the circling year; Of tender things that look like toads :

How day and night alternately appear; In future times, these, finely drest,

Then am I well convinc'd some secret soul, Shall each invade a prince's breast;

Some first informing power directs the whole; 'Tis fiattery seed; though thinly sown,

Some great intelligence, who turns the spheres, It is a mighty plant when grown,

Who rules the steady motion of the stars, When rooted deep, and fully blown;

Who decks with borrow'd light the waning Moon, Now see these things like bubbles fly;

And fills with native light th' uuchanging Sun, These are the seeds of vanity.

Who hangs the Earth amidst surrounding skies, Take tyrant acorns, which will best advance, And bids her various fruits in various seasons rise. If sown in eastern climates, or in France;

But, soon as I reflect on human state,
But these are things of most prodigious hopes, How blind, how unproportion'd, is our fate;
They're Jesuit bulbs tied up with ropes,

How ill men, crown'd with blessings,smoothly pass
And these the Devil's grafts for future popes, A golden circle of delightful days;
Which with fanaticism are join'd so clean, How good men bear the rugged paths of life,
You'd scarce believe a knife had pass'd between. Condemn'd to endless cares, to endless strife;
False-witness seed had almost been forgot,

Then am I lost again; religion fails; 'Twill be your making, should there be a plot. Then Epicurus' bolder scheme prevails, (dance, And now, dear Orpheus, scatter these but well; Which through the void makes wandering atoms And you'll deserve the gratitude of Hell."

And calls the medley world the work of Chance, Quoth Orpheus, “ You shall be obey'd Which God's eternal Providence denies, In every thing that you have said,

And feigns him nodding in the distant skies, Por mischief is the poet's trade :

At length Rufinus' fate my doubt removes, And whatsoever they sball bring,

And God's eristence and his justice proves. You may assure yourself, I'll sing.

Nor do I longer undeceiv'd complain, But pray what poets shall we have,

The wicked flourish, and triumphant reign; At my returning from the grave ?”

Since they to Fortune's heights are rais'd alone, "Sad dogs !" quoth Bocai," let me see To rush with greater ruin headlong down. But, since what I say cannot shame them,

But here instruct thy bard, Pierian dame, I'll e'en resolve to never name them.

Whence, and of whom, the dire contagion came. “But now," says Bocai, “ sir, you may Alecto's breast with rage and envy glows, Long to be going on your way,

To see the world possess'd of sweet repose. Unless you'll drink some arsenic claret : Down to the dreary realms below she bends, 'Tis burnt, you see: but Sam can spare it.” There summons a cabal of sister fiends;

Orpheus replied, “ Kind sir, 'tis neither Thither unnumber'd plagues direct their flight, Brandy nor whets that brought me hither; The cursed progeny of Hell and Night. But love, and I an instance can be,

First, Discord rears her head, the nurse of War; Love is as hot as pepper'd brandy;

Next, Famine fiercely stalks with haughty air; Yet, gentle şir, you may command

Then Age scarce drags her limbs, scarce draws her A tune from a departing hand;

breath, The style and passion both are good,

But, tottering on, approaches neighbouring Death; 'Tis The Three Children in the Wood.”

Here grows Disease, with inbred tortures worn; He sang; and pains themselves found ease; There Envy snarls, and others' good does mourn; For griefs, when well express'd, can please. There Sorrow sighs, her robe to tatters torn; When he describ'd the children's loss,

Fear skulks bebind, and trembling hides her face, And how the robins cover'd them with moss; But Rashness headlong thrusts her front of brass; To hear the pity of those birds,

Then Luxury, Wealth's bane, profusely shines, Er'n Bocai's tears fell down with Orpheus' words. Whilst Want, attending in a cloud, repines.

A train of sleepless self-tormenting cares,
Daughters of meagre Avarice, appears;
Who, as around her wither'd neck they cling,

Confess the parent hag from whence they spring. RUFINUS; OR, THE FAVOURITE 1. Here ills of each malignant kind resort,

A thousand monsters guard the dreadful court, IMITATED FROM CLAUDIAN.

Amidst th' infernal crowd, Alecto stands,

And a deep silence awfully commands; Ort, as I wondering stand, a secret doubt

Then, in tumultuous terms like these, express'd Puzzles my reason, and disturbs my thought,

A passion long had swell?d within her breast : Whether this lower world by Chance does move, « Shall we supine permit these peaceful days, Or guided by the guardian hand of Jove.

So smooth, so gay, so undisturbd, to pass ?

Shall Pity melt, sball Clemency control, 'The essay, to which this poem was originally A Fury's fierce and unrelenting soul? annexed, was written in 1711, as a harsh satire on What do our iron whips, our brands, avail; the duke of Marlborough, dictated perhaps ra- What all the horrid implements of Hell; ther by party rage than truth. It is printed in Since mighty Jove debars us of his skies, Dr. King's works, vol. ii. p. 280. N.

Since Theodosius too his Earth denies :


Such were the days, and so their tenour ran,

“ If you the stratagem propos'd approve, When the first happy golden age began :

Let us to court this bare of crouns redlove. Virtue and Concord, with their heavenly train, There shall he soon, with his intriguing art, With Piety and Faitli, securely reign;

Guide uncontrol'd the willing prince's heart, Nay, Jastice, in imperi'' pomp array'd,

Not Numa's wisdom shall that heart defend, Boldly explores this everlasting shade;

When the false favourite acts the faithful friend."' Me she, insulting, menaces and awes;

Soon as she ended, the surrounding crowd Reforms the world, and vindicates her law's. With peals of joy the black design applaud, And shall we then, ne lected and forlorn,

Now with an adamant her hair she bound, From every region banishid, idly mourn?

With a blue serpent girt her vest around; Assert yourselves; know what, and whence, you Then hastes to Phlegethon's impetuous stream,

Whose pitchy waves are flakes of rolliug Hame; Attempt some glorious mischief worth your care; There lights a torch, and straight, with wings Involve the universe in endless war.

display'd, Oh! tbat I could in Stygian vapour rise,

Shoots swiftly through the dun Tartarian glade. Darken the Sun, pollute the balmy skies ;

A place on Gallia's utmost verge there lies, Let loose the rivers, deluge every plain,

Extended to the sea and southern skies; Break down the barriers of the roaring main, Where once Ulysses, as old fables tell, And shatter Nature into chaos once again !"

luvok'd and rais'd th'inhabitants of Hell; So rag'd the bend, and toss'd her vipers round, Where oft, with staring eyes, the trembling hind Which hissing pour'd their poison on the ground. Sees airy phantoms skim before the wind: A murmur through the jarring audience rung,

Hence springs the Fury into upper skies, Different resolves from different reasons sprung.

Infecting all the region as she flies : So when the fury of the storm is past,

She roars, and shakes the atmosphere around, When the rough winds in softer murmurs waste;

And earth and sea rebellow to the sound. So sounds, so fluctuates, the troubled sea,

Then straight transform'd bersnakes to silver hairs, As the expiring tempest plows its way.

And like an old decrepid sage appears; Megæra, rising then, address'd the throng, Slowly she er. ep. along with trembling gait, To whom Srition, Tumult, Rage, belong :

Scarce can her languid limbs sustain her weight. Whose food is entrails of the guiltless dead, At length, arriving at Rufinus' cell, Whose drink is children's blood by parents shed. Which, from his monstrous birth, she knew so She scorch'd Alcides with a frantic flame,

well, She broke the bow, the savage world did tame; She mildly thus Hell's darling hupe addressil, She nerv'd the arm, she Nung the deadly dart, South'd bis ambition, and inflam'd his bivast:. When Athamas transtix'd Learchus' heart :

“ Can sloth dissolve Rufinus; canst thou pass She prompted Agamemnon's monstrous wife Thy sprightly youth in soft inglorious ease? To take her injurd lord's devoted life:

Know, that thy better fate, thy kinder star, She breath'd revenge and rage into the son,

Does more exalted paths for thee prepare. So did the mother's blood the sire's atone:

If thou an old man's counsel canst obey, She blinded Oedipus with kindred charms, The subject world shall own thy soverei o sway Forc'd him incestuons to a mother's arms :

For my enlight'd soul, my conscious breast, She stung Thyestes, and his fury fed ;

Of magic's secret science is possess'd. She taught him to polluțe a daughter's bed.

Oft' have I forcd, with mystic midnight spells, Such was her dreadful speech:

Pale spectres from their subterranean cells: “ Your schemes not practical nor lawful are,

Old Hecaté attends my powerful song, With Heaven and Jove to wage unequal war:

Powerful to hasten fate, or to prolong; But, if the peace of man you would invade,

Powerful the rooted stubborn oak to move, If o'er the ravag'd Earth destruction spread; To stop the thunder bursting from above, Then shall Rufinus, fram'd for eve y ill,

To make the rapid flood's descending stream With your own vengeance execute your will;

Flow backward to the fountain whence it came. A prodigy from savage parents sprung,

Nor doubt my truth-bchold, with just surprise, Impetuous as a tigress new with young;

Au effort of my art—a palace rise.". Fierce as the hydra, fickle as the floor,

She said; and, lo! a palace towering seems, And keen as meagre harpies for their food.

With Parian pillars and metallic beams. “ Soon as the infant drew the vital air,

Rutious, ravish'd with the vast delight, I first receiv'd him to my nursing care ;

Gorges his marice, and giuts his sight. And often he, when tender yet and young, Such was his transport, such his sudden pride, Cried for the teat, and on my bosoin hung:

Whi'n Midas first his golden wish enjoy'd: Whilst my horn'd serpents round his visage play'd, But, as his stiffening food to metal turn'd, His features form’d, and there their renom shed; He found bis rashness, and his ruin mourn'd. Whilst I, infusing, breath'd into his heart

“ Be thou or man or god," Rufinus said, Deceit and craft, and every hurtful art;

“ I follow wheresve'er thy dictates lead." Taught him t'involve his soul in secret clouds, Then from his hut he flies, assunes the state With false dissembling smiles to veil his frauds. Propounded by the fiend, prepar'd by Fate. “ Not dying patriots' tortures can assuage

Ambition soon began to lift her head, His inborn cmelty, bis native rare :

Soaring, she mounts with restless pinions spread ; Not Tagus' yellow torrent can suffice

But Justice, conscious, shuys the poison'd air, His boundless and unsated avarice :

Where only prostituted tools repair; Nor all the metal of Pactolus' streams,

Where Stilico and Virtue not avail; Nor Hermus glittering as the solar beams,

Where royal favours stand expos'd to sale;

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