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I speak my good lord cardinal to this point,

With you, my lord of Lincoln: you remember
And thus far clear him. Now, what mov'd me to't, How under my oppression I did reek,
I will be bold with time, and

your
attention :-

When I first mov'd you.
Then, mark th' inducement. Thus it came ;-give

Lin.

Very well, my liege. heed to't.

K. Hen. I have spoke long: be pleas'd yourself to say My conscience first receiv'd a tenderness,

How far you satisfied me. Scruple, and prick, on certain speeches utter'd

Lin.

So please your highness, By the bishop of Bayonne, then French ambassador, The question did at first so stagger me, Who had been hither sent, on the debating

Bearing a state of mighty moment in't, A marriage. 'twixt the duke of Orleans and

And consequence of dread,—that I committed Our daughter Mary. I' the progress of this business, The daring'st counsel which I had to doubt, Ere a determinate resolution, he

And did entreat your highness to this course, (I mean, the bishop) did require a respite ;

Which you are running here. Wherein he might the king his lord advertise

K. Hen.

I then mov'd you, Whether our daughter were legitimate,

My lord of Canterbury; and got your leave
Respecting this our marriage with the dowager, To make this present summons.—Unsolicited
Sometime our brother's wife. This respite shook I left no reverend person in this court;
The bottom of my conscience, enter'd me,

But by particular consent proceeded,
Yea, with a splitting power, and made to tremble Under your hands and seals : therefore, go on;
The region of my breast; which forc'd such way, For no dislike i' the world against the

person That many maz'd considerings did throng,

Of the good queen, but the sharp thorny points
And press in with this caution. First, methought, Of my alleged reasons drive this forward.
I stood not in the smile of Heaven ; who had Prove but our marriage lawful, by my life,
Commanded nature, that my lady's womb,

And kingly dignity, we are contented
If it conceiv'd a male child by me, should

To wear our mortal state to come with her, Do no more offices of life to't, than

Katharine our queen, before the primest creature The

grave does to the dead; for her male issue That's paragon'd o' the world. Or died where they were made, or shortly after

Cam.

So please your highness,
This world had air’d them. Hence I took a thought, The queen being absent, 'tis a needful fitness
This was a judgment on me; that my kingdom, That we adjourn this court till farther day :
Well worthy the best heir o' the world, should not Meanwhile must be an earnest motion
Be gladded in't by me. Then follows, that

Made to the queen, to call back her appeal
I weigh'd the danger which my realms stood in She intends unto his holiness.
By this my issue's fail ; and that gave to me

K. Hen.

I may perceive, [Aside. Many a groaning throe. Thus, hulling in

These cardinals trifle with me: I abhor The wild sea of my conscience, I did steer

This dilatory sloth, and tricks of Rome. Toward this remedy, whereupon we are

My learn’d and well-beloved servant, Cranmer, Now present here together; that's to say,

Pr'ythee, return! with thy approach, I know, I meant to rectify my conscience,- which

My comfort comes along. ( Aloud.]—Break up the I then did feel full sick, and yet not well,

court: By all the reverend fathers of the land,

I say, set on. [Exeunt, in manner as they entered. And doctors learn'd. First, I began in private

SONG,

ACT III.
SCENE 1.-The Palace at Bridewell.

Gent. An't please your grace, the two great cardinals
A Room in the Queen's Apartment.

Wait in the presence.
Q. Kath.

Would they speak with me?
The Queen, and her Women, as at work.

Gent. They will'd me say so, madam.
Q. Kath. Take thy lute, wench : my soul

grows
sad
Q. Kath.

Pray their graces with troubles ;

To come near. [Exit Gent.] What can be their business Sing, and disperse them, if thou canst. Leave working. With me, a poor weak woman, fallen from favour ?

I do not like their coming, now I think on't.
Orpheus with his lute made trees,

They should be good men, their affairs as righteous;

But all hoods make not monks.
And the mountain-tops, that freeze,

Enter Wolsey and CAMPEIUS.
Bow themselves, when he did sing :

Wol.

Peace to your highness.
To his music, plants, and flowers,
Ever sprung; as sun, and showers,

Q. Kath. Your graces find me here part of a house-
There had made a lasting spring.

wife;

I would be all, against the worst may happen.
Every thing that heard him play,

What are your pleasures with me, reverend lords ?
Even the billows of the sea,

Wol. May it please you, noble madam, to withdraw
Hung their heads, and then lay by.

Into your private chamber, we shall give you
In sweet music is such art,

The full cause of our coming.
Killing care and grief of heart

Q. Kath.

Speak it here.
Fall asleep, or, hearing, die.

There's nothing I have done yet, o' my conscience,
Enter a Gentleman.

Deserves a corner: would all other women Q. Kath. How now!

Could speak this with as free a soul as I do!

My lords, I care not, (so much I am happy

He's loving, and most gracious : 'twill be much
Above a number) if my actions

Both for your honour better, and your cause;
Were tried by every tongue, every eye saw them, For if the trial of the law o'ertake you,
Envy and base opinion set against them,

You'll part away disgrac'd.
I know my life so even.
If your business

Wol.

He tells you rightly. Seek me out, and that way I am wife in,

Q. Kath. Ye tell me what ye wish for both, ---my ruin. Out with it boldly : truth loves open dealing. Is this your Christian counsel ? out upon ye! Wol. Tanta est erga te mentis integritas, regina sere- Heaven is above all yet: there sits a Judge nissima,

That no king can corrupt. Q. Kath. O, good my lord, no Latin :

Cam.

Your rage mistakes us. I am not such a truant since my coming,

Q. Kath. The more shame for ye! holy men I As not to know the language I have liv'd in:

thought ye, A strange tongue makes my cause more strange, sus- Upon my soul, two reverend cardinal virtues; picious;

But cardinal sins, and hollow hearts, I fear ye. Pray, speak in English. Here are some will thank you, Mend them for shame, my lords. Is this your comIf you speak truth, for their poor mistress' sake :

fort? Believe me, she has had much wrong. Lord cardinal, The cordial that ye bring a wretched lady? The willing'st sin I ever yet committed

A woman lost among ye, laugh'd at, scorn'd ? May be absolv'd in English.

I will not wish ye half my miseries, Wol.

Noble lady,

I have more charity; but say, I warn'd ye: I am sorry, my integrity should breed,

Take heed, for heaven's sake, take heed, lest at once (And service to his majesty and you)

The burden of my sorrows fall upon ye. So deep suspicion, where all faith was meant.

Wol. Madam, this is a mere distraction; We come not by the way of accusation,

You turn the good we offer into envy. To taint that honour every good tongue blesses,

Q. Kath. Ye turn me into nothing. Woe upon ye, Nor to betray you any way to sorrow;

And all such false professors! Would ye have me You have too much, good lady; but to know

(If
ye

have any justice, any pity, How you stand minded in the weighty difference

If
ye

be any thing but churchmen's habits) Between the king and you, and to deliver,

Put my sick cause into his hands that hates me? Like free and honest men, our just opinions,

Alas! he has banish'd me his bed already; And comforts to your cause.

His love, too long ago : I am old, my lords, Cam,

Most honour'd madam, And all the fellowship I hold now with him My lord of York,-out of his noble nature,

Is only my obedience. What can happen Zeal and obedience he still bore your grace,

To me above this wretchedness? all your studies Forgetting, like a good man, your late censure Make me a curse like this. Both of his truth and him, (which was too far)—

Cam.

Your fears are worse. Offers, as I do, in a sign of peace,

Q. Kath. Have I liv'd thus long-(let me speak His service and bis counsel.

myself, Q. Kath.

To betray me. [Aside. Since virtue finds no friends,)—a wife, a true one? My lords, I thank you both for your good wills, A woman (I dare say without vain-glory) Yé speak like honest men, (pray God, ye prove so !) Never yet branded with suspicion ? But how to make ye suddenly an answer,

Have I with all my full affections In such a point of weight, so near mine honour, Still met the king ? lov'd him next heaven? obey'd (More near my life, I fear,) with my weak wit,

him? And to such men of gravity and learning,

Been, out of fondness, superstitious to him? In truth, I know not. I was set at work

Almost forgot my prayers to content him? Among my maids ; full little, God knows, looking And am I thus rewarded ? 'tis not well, lords. Either for such men, or such business.

Bring me a constant woman to her husband, For her sake that I have been, for I feel

One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his pleasure, The last fit of my greatness, good your graces, And to that woman, when she has done most, Let me have time and counsel for my cause.

Yet will I add an honour,-a great patience. Alas! I am a woman, friendless, hopeless.

Wol. Madam, you wander from the good we aim at. Wol. Madam, you wrong the king's love with these Q. Kath. My lord, I dare not make myself so guilty, fears :

To give up willingly that noble title Your hopes and friends are infinite.

Your master wed me to : nothing but death Q. Kath.

In England, Shall e'er divorce my dignities. But little for my profit: can you think, lords,

Wol.

Pray, hear me. That any Englishman dare give me counsel ?

Q. Kath. Would I had never trod this English earth, Or be a known friend, 'gainst his highness' pleasure,

Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it! (Though he be grown so desperate to be honest) Ye have angels' faces, but heaven knows your hearts. And live a subject? Nay, forsooth, my friends,

What will become of me now, wretched lady? They that must weigh out my afflictions,

I am the most unhappy woman living.-They that my trust must grow to, live not here : Alas! poor wenches, where are now your fortunes ! They are, as all my other comforts, far hence,

[To her Women. In mine own country, lords.

Shipwreck'd upon a kingdom, where no pity,
Cam.
I would, your grace

No friends, no hope, no kindred weep for me,
Would leave your griefs, and take my counsel. Almost no grave allow'd me.—Like the lily,
Q. Kath.

How, sir? | That once was mistress of the field and flourish'd, Cam. Put your main cause into the king's pro- I'll hang my head, and perish. tection;

Wol.

If your grace

Could but be brought to know our ends are honest,

As I could wish mine enemy.
You'd feel more comfort. Why should we, good lady, Sur.

How came
Upon what cause, wrong you ? alas ! our places, His practices to light?
The way of our profession is against it :

Suf.

Most strangely. We are to cure such sorrows, not to sow them.

Sur.

O! how ? how? For goodness' sake, consider what you do;

Suf. The cardinal's letter to the pope miscarried, How you may hurt yourself, ay, utterly

And came to the eye o' the king; wherein was read,
Grow from the king's acquaintance, by this carriage. How that the cardinal did entreat his holiness
The hearts of princes kiss obedience,

To stay the judgment o' the divorce ; for if
So much they love it; but to stubborn spirits, It did take place, “ I do," quoth he, “perceive,
They swell, and grow as terrible as storms.

My king is tangled in affection to
I know, you have a gentle, noble temper,

A creature of the queen's, lady Anne Bullen.” A soul as even as a calm : pray, think us

Sur. Has the king this? Those we profess, peace-makers, friends, and servants. Suf.

Believe it.
Cam. Madam, you'll find it so.

You wrong your
Sur.

Will this work? virtues

Cham. The king in this perceives him, how he coasts,
With these weak women's fears: a noble spirit, And hedges, his own way. But in this point
As yours was put into you, ever casts

All his tricks founder, and he brings his physic
Such doubts, as false coin, from it. The king loves you; After his patient's death : the king already
Beware, you lose it not: for us, if you please Hath married the fair lady.
To trust us in your business, we are ready

Sur.

Would he had ! To use our utmost studies in your service.

Suf. May you be happy in your wish, my lord; Q. Kath. Do what ye will, my lords: and, pray, For, I profess, you have it. forgive me,

Sur.

Now may all joy If I have us’d myself unmannerly :

Trace the conjunction! You know I am a woman, lacking wit

Suf.

My amen to't. To make a seemly answer to such persons.

Nor.

All men's. Pray do my service to his majesty :

Suf. There's order given for her coronation :
He has my heart yet, and shall have my prayers, Marry, this is yet but young, and may be left
While I shall have my life. Come, reverend fathers ; To some ears unrecounted.-But, my lords,
Bestow your counsels on me: she now begs,

She is a gallant creature, and complete
That little thought, when she set footing here, In mind and feature : I persuade me, from her
She should have bought her dignities so dear. (Exeunt. Will fall some blessing to this land, which shall

In it be memoriz'd.
SCENE II.-Ante-chamber to the King's Apartment.

Sur.

But, will the king Enter the Duke of Norfolk, the Duke of SUFFOLK, the Digest this letter of the cardinal's ? Earl of Surrey, and the Lord Chamberlain.

The lord forbid ! Nor. If you will now unite in your complaints, Nor.

Marry, amen! And force them with a constancy, the cardinal

Suf.

No, no: Cannot stand under them: if you omit

There be more wasps than buz about his nose, The offer of this time, I cannot promise,

Will make this sting the sooner. Cardinal Campeius But that you shall sustain more new disgraces, Is stolen away to Rome; hath ta'en no leave; With these you bear already.

Has left the cause o' the king unhandļed, and Sur.

I am joyful

Is posted, as the agent of our cardinal, To meet the least occasion, that may give me

To second all his plot. I do assure you Remembrance of my father-in-law, the duke,

The king cried, ha! at this. To be reveng'd on him.

Cham.

Now, God incense him, Suf. Which of the peers

And let him cry ha! louder. Have uncontemn'd gone by him, or at least

Nor.

But, my lord, Strangely neglected? when did he regard

When returns Cranmer? The stamp of nobleness in any person,

Suf. He is return'd in his opinions, which Out of himself?

Have satisfied the king for his divorce,
Cham. My lords, you speak your pleasures. Together with all famous colleges
What he deserves of you

and
me, I know;

Almost in Christendom. Shortly, I believe,
What we can do to him, (though now the time His second marriage shall be publish'd, and
Gives way to us) I much fear. If you cannot

Her coronation. Katharine no more Bar his access to the king, never attempt

Shall be call'd queen, but princess dowager, Any thing on him, for he hath a witchcraft

And widow to prince Arthur. Over the king in's tongue.

Nor.

This same Cranmer's Nor.

O! fear him not; A worthy fellow, and hath ta’en much pain His spell in that is out: the king hath found

In the king's business. Matter against him, that for ever mars

Suf.

He has; and we shall see him The honey of his language. No, he's settled, For it an archbishop. Not to come off, in his displeasure.

Nor.

So I hear. Sur.

Sir,

Suf. I should be glad to hear such news as this

The cardinal

[They stand back. Once every hour.

Enter Wolsey and Cromwell.
Nor.
Believe it, this is true.

Nor.

Observe, observe; he's moody. In the divorce his contrary proceedings

Wol. The packet, Cromwell, gave it you the king ? Are all unfolded; wherein he appears,

Crom. To his own hand, in his bedchamber.

'Tis so.

Wol. Look'd he o'th' inside of the paper ?

His thinkings are below the moon, not worth Crom.

Presently His serious considering. He did unseal them, and the first he view'd,

[He takes his seat, and whispers Lovell, who He did it with a serious mind; a heed

goes to Wolsey. Was in his countenance : you he bade

Wol.

Heaven forgive me! [ Amazedly. Attend him here this morning.

Ever God bless your highness.
Wol.

Is he ready
K. Hen.

Good my lord,
To come abroad?

You are full of heavenly stuff, and bear the inventory Crom. I think, by this he is.

Of your best graces in your mind, the which Wol. Leave me awhile.

[Exit CROMWELL. You were now running o'er: you have scarce time It shall be to the duchess of Alençon,

To steal from spiritual labour a brief span, The French king's sister : he shall marry her.- To keep your earthly audit. Sure, in that Anne Bullen? No; I'll no Anne Bullens for him : I deem you an ill husband, and am glad There's more in't than fair visage.-Bullen!

To have you therein my companion. No, we'll no Bullens.-Speedily I wish

Wol.

Sir,
To hear from Rome.—The marchioness of Pembroke! For holy offices I have a time; a time
Nor. He's discontented.

To think

upon

the part of business, which Suf.

May be, he hears the king I bear i' the state ; and nature does require Does whet his anger to him.

Her times of preservation, which, perforce, Sur.

Sharp enough,

I her frail son, amongst my brethren mortal, Lord! for thy justice.

Must give my tendance to. Wol. The late queen's gentlewoman, a knight's K. Hen.

You have said well. daughter,

Wol. And ever may your highness yoke together, To be her mistress' mistress! the queen's queen! As I will lend you cause, my doing well This candle burns not clear: 'tis I must snuff it; With my well saying ! Then, out it goes.- What though I know her virtuous, K. Hen.

'Tis well said again; And well deserving, yet I know her for

And 'tis a kind of good deed to say well: A spleeny Lutheran; and not wholesome to

And yet words are no deeds. My father lov'd you; Our cause, that she should lie i' the bosom of

He said he did, and with his deed did crown Our hard-rul'd king. Again, there is sprung up His word upon you: since I had my office, An beretic, an arch one, Cranmer; one

I have kept you next my heart; have not alone Hath crawl'd into the favour of the king,

Employ'd you where high profits might come home, And is his oracle.

[Retires, musing. But par'd my present havings, to bestow Nor. He is vex'd at something.

My bounties upon you. Suf. I would, 'twere something that would fret the Wol.

What should this mean? [ Aside. string,

Sur. The Lord increase this business! [Behind. The master-chord on's heart!

K. Hen.

Have I not made you Enter the King, reading a Schedule ; and Lovell. The prime man of the state ? I pray you, tell me, Suf.

The king, the king ! If what I now pronounce you have found true; K. Hen. What piles of wealth hath he accumulated, And, if you may confess it, say withal, To his own portion! and what expence by the hour If you are bound to us, or no. What say you ? Seems to flow from him! How, i' the name of thrift, Wol. My sovereign, I confess, your royal graces, Does he rake this together?—Now, my lords ; Shower'd on me daily, have been more than could Saw you the cardinal ?

My studied purposes requite; which went
Nor.

My lord, we have [Coming forward. Beyond all man's endeavours: my endeavours
Stood here observing him. Some strange commotion Have ever come too short of my desires,
Is in his brain : he bites his lip, and starts ;

Yet fill'd with my abilities. Mine own ends
Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground,

Have been mine so, that evermore they pointed Then, lays his finger on his temple; straight, To the good of your most sacred person, and Springs out into fast gait; then, stops again,

The profit of the state. For your great graces
Strikes his breast hard; and anon he casts

Heap'd upon me, poor undeserver, I
His eye against the moon. In most strange postures Can nothing render but allegiant thanks;
We have seen him set himself.

My prayers to heaven for you; my loyalty,
K. Hen.

It may well be: Which ever has, and ever shall be growing, There is a mutiny in's mind. This morning

Till death, that winter, kill it. Papers of state he sent me to peruse,

K. Hen.

Fairly answer'd: As I requir'd; and, wot you, what I found

A loyal and obedient subject is There, on my conscience, put unwittingly?

Therein illustrated. The honour of it Forsooth an inventory, thus importing,

Does pay the act of it; as, i’ the contrary,
The several parcels of his plate, his treasure,

The foulness is the punishment. I presume,
Rich stuffs, and ornaments of household; which That as my hand has open'd bounty to you,
I find at such proud rate, that it out-speaks

My heart dropp'd love, my power rain'd honour, more Possession of a subject.

On
you

than any; so your hand, and heart,
Nor.
It's heaven's will:

Your brain, and every function of your power, Some spirit put this paper in the packet,

Should, notwithstanding that your bond of duty, To bless your eye withal.

As 'twere in love's particular, be more
K. Hen.
If we did think

To me, your friend, than any.
His contemplation were above the earth,

Wol.

I do profess, And fix'd on spiritual object, he should still

That for your highness' good I ever labour'd Dwell in his musings; but, I am afraid,

More than mine own: that am, have, and will be

(Though all the world should crack their duty to you, Sur. The king that gave it. And throw it from their soul; though perils did

Wol.

It must be himself, then. Abound, as thick as thought could make them, and Sur. Thou art a proud traitor, priest. Appear in forms more horrid) yet my duty,

Wol.

Proud lord, thou liest : As doth a rock against the chiding flood,

Within these forty hours Surrey durst better
Should the approach of this wild river break, Have burnt that tongue, than said so.
And stand unshaken yours.

Sur.

Thy ambition, K. Hen.

'Tis nobly spoken. Thou scarlet sin, robb'd this bewailing land Take notice, lords, he has a loyal breast,

Of noble Buckingham, my father-in-law: For you have seen him open't.—Read o'er this: The heads of all thy brother cardinals,

[Giving him Papers. (With thee, and all thy best parts bound together) And, after, this; and then to breakfast, with Weigh'd not a hair of his. Plague of your policy! What appetite you have.

You sent me deputy-for Ireland, [Exit King, frowning upon Cardinal Wolsey: the Far from his succour, from the king, from all

Nobles throng after him, smiling, and whispering. That might have mercy on the fault thou gav'st him; Wol.

What should this mean? Whilst your great goodness, out of holy pity,
What sudden anger's this? how have I reap'd it? Absolv'd him with an axe.
He parted frowning from me, as if ruin

Wol.

This, and all else
Leap'd from his eyes : so looks the chafed lion This talking lord can lay upon my credit,
Upon the daring huntsman that has gall’d him, I answer, is most false. The duke by law
Then, makes him nothing. I must read this paper; Found his deserts : how innocent I was
I fear, the story of his anger.- 'Tis so:

From any private malice in his end,
[Opens the Paper and reads, trembling. His noble jury and foul cause can witness.
This paper has undone me !—'Tis th' account If I lov'd many words, lord, I should tell you,
Of all that world of wealth I have drawn together You have as little honesty as honour,
For mine own ends; indeed, to gain the popedom, That in the way of loyalty and truth
And fee my friends in Rome. O negligence! Toward the king, my ever royal

master, Fit for a fool to fall by. What cross devil

Dare mate a sounder man than Surrey can be, Made me put this main secret in the packet

And all that love his follies. I sent the king? Is there no way to cure this?

Sur.

By my soul, No new device to beat this from his brains?

Your long coat, priest, protects you: thou should’st feel I know 'twill stir him strongly; yet I know

My sword i' the life-blood of thee else.—My lords, A way, if it take right, in spite of fortune

Can ye endure to hear this arrogance?
Will bring me off again." What's this ?—"To the And from this fellow? If we live thus tamely,
Pope?"

To be thus jaded by a piece of scarlet,
The letter, as I live, with all the business

Farewell nobility ; let his grace go forward, I writ to his holiness. Nay then, farewell !

And dare us with his cap, like larks. I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness,

Wol.

All goodness And from that full meridian of my glory,

Is poison to thy stomach. I haste now to my setting: I shall fall

Sur.

Yes, that goodness Like a bright exhalation in the evening,

Of gleaning all the land's wealth into one, And no man see me more.

[Sinks in a chair. Into your own hands, cardinal, by extortion; Re-enter the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, the The goodness of your intercepted packets,

Earl of SURREY, and the Lord Chamberlain. You writ to the pope, against the king; your goodNor. Hear the king's pleasure, cardinal; who ness, commands you

Since you provoke me, shall be most notorious.To render up the great seal presently

My lord of Norfolk,-as you are truly noble, Into our hands, and to confine yourself

As you respect the common good, the state To Asher-house, my lord of Winchester's,

Of our despis’d nobility, our issues, Till you hear farther from his highness.

(Who, if he live, will scarce be gentlemen) Wol.

Stay: [Rising. Produce the grand sum of his sins, the articles Where's your commission, lords ? words cannot carry Collected from his life.—I'll startle you Authority so weighty.

Worse than the sacring bell, when the brown wench Suf. Who dare cross them,

Lay kissing in your arms, lord cardinal. Bearing the king's will from his mouth expressly ? Wol. How much, methinks, I could despise this Wol. Till I find more than will, or words, to do it,

man, (I mean your malice) know, officious lords,

But that I am bound in charity against it. I dare, and must deny it. Now, I feel

Nor. Those articles, my lord, are in the king's hand; Of what coarse metal ye are moulded, -envy; But, thus much, they are foul ones. How eagerly ye follow my disgraces,

Wol.

So much fairer, As if it fed ye; and how sleek and wanton

And spotless, shall mine innocence arise,
Ye appear in every thing may bring my ruin. When the king knows my truth.
Follow your envious courses, men of malice;

Sur.

This cannot save you. You have Christian warrant for them, and, no doubt, I thank my memory, I yet remember In time will find their fit rewards. That seal, Some of these articles; and out they shall. You ask with such a violence, the king,

Now, if you can blush, and cry guilty, cardinal, (Mine, and your inaster) with his own hand gave me; You'll show a little honesty. Bade me enjoy it, with the place and honours,

Wol.

Speak on, sir; During my life, and to confirm his goodness,

I dare your worst objections: if I blush, Tied it by letters patent. Now, who'll take it? It is to see a nobleman want manners.

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