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Friar Lawrence |
Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful man: |
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Affliction is enamour'd of thy parts, |
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And thou art wedded to calamity. |
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Romeo |
Father, what news? what is the prince's doom? |
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What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand, |
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Friar Lawrence |
Too familiar |
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Is my dear son with such sour company: |
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I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom. |
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Romeo |
What less than dooms-day is the prince's doom? |
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Friar Lawrence |
A gentler judgment vanish'd from his lips, |
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Not body's death, but body's banishment. |
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Romeo |
Ha, banishment! be merciful, say 'death;' |
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For exile hath more terror in his look, |
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Much more than death: do not say 'banishment.' |
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Friar Lawrence |
Hence from Verona art thou banished: |
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Be patient, for the world is broad and wide. |
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Romeo |
There is no world without Verona walls, |
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But purgatory, torture, hell itself. |
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Hence-banished is banish'd from the world, |
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And world's exile is death: then banished, |
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Is death mis-term'd: calling death banishment, |
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Thou cutt'st my head off with a golden axe, |
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And smilest upon the stroke that murders me. |
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Friar Lawrence |
O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness! |
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Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind prince, |
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Taking thy part, hath rush'd aside the law, |
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And turn'd that black word death to banishment: |
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This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not. |
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Romeo |
'Tis torture, and not mercy: heaven is here, |
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Where Juliet lives; and every cat and dog |
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And little mouse, every unworthy thing, |
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Live here in heaven and may look on her; |
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But Romeo may not: more validity, |
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More honourable state, more courtship lives |
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In carrion-flies than Romeo: they my seize |
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On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand |
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And steal immortal blessing from her lips, |
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Who even in pure and vestal modesty, |
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Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin; |
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But Romeo may not; he is banished: |
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Flies may do this, but I from this must fly: |
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They are free men, but I am banished. |
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And say'st thou yet that exile is not death? |
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Hadst thou no poison mix'd, no sharp-ground knife, |
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No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean, |
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But 'banished' to kill me?--'banished'? |
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O friar, the damned use that word in hell; |
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Howlings attend it: how hast thou the heart, |
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Being a divine, a ghostly confessor, |
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A sin-absolver, and my friend profess'd, |
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To mangle me with that word 'banished'? |
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Friar Lawrence |
Thou fond mad man, hear me but speak a word. |
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Romeo |
O, thou wilt speak again of banishment. |
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Friar Lawrence |
I'll give thee armour to keep off that word: |
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Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy, |
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To comfort thee, though thou art banished. |
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Romeo |
Yet 'banished'? Hang up philosophy! |
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Unless philosophy can make a Juliet, |
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Displant a town, reverse a prince's doom, |
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It helps not, it prevails not: talk no more. |
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Friar Lawrence |
O, then I see that madmen have no ears. |
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Romeo |
How should they, when that wise men have no eyes? |
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Friar Lawrence |
Let me dispute with thee of thy estate. |
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Romeo |
Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel: |
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Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love, |
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An hour but married, Tybalt murdered, |
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Doting like me and like me banished, |
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Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy hair, |
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And fall upon the ground, as I do now, |
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Taking the measure of an unmade grave. |
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Friar Lawrence |
Arise; one knocks; good Romeo, hide thyself. |
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Romeo |
Not I; unless the breath of heartsick groans, |
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Mist-like, infold me from the search of eyes. |
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Friar Lawrence |
Hark, how they knock! Who's there? Romeo, arise; |
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Thou wilt be taken. Stay awhile! Stand up; |
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Run to my study. By and by! God's will, |
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What simpleness is this! I come, I come! |
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Who knocks so hard? whence come you? what's your will? |
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Nurse |
[Within] Let me come in, and you shall know |
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Friar Lawrence |
Welcome, then. |
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Nurse |
O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar, |
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Where is my lady's lord, where's Romeo? |
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Friar Lawrence |
There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk. |
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Nurse |
O, he is even in my mistress' case, |
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Just in her case! O woful sympathy! |
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Piteous predicament! Even so lies she, |
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Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering. |
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Stand up, stand up; stand, and you be a man: |
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For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand; |
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Why should you fall into so deep an O? |
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Nurse |
Ah sir! ah sir! Well, death's the end of all. |
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Romeo |
Spakest thou of Juliet? how is it with her? |
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Doth she not think me an old murderer, |
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Now I have stain'd the childhood of our joy |
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With blood removed but little from her own? |
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Where is she? and how doth she? and what says |
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My conceal'd lady to our cancell'd love? |
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Nurse |
O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps; |
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And now falls on her bed; and then starts up, |
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And Tybalt calls; and then on Romeo cries, |
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And then down falls again. |
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Shot from the deadly level of a gun, |
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Did murder her; as that name's cursed hand |
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Murder'd her kinsman. O, tell me, friar, tell me, |
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In what vile part of this anatomy |
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Doth my name lodge? tell me, that I may sack |
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Friar Lawrence |
Hold thy desperate hand: |
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Art thou a man? thy form cries out thou art: |
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Thy tears are womanish; thy wild acts denote |
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The unreasonable fury of a beast: |
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Unseemly woman in a seeming man! |
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Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both! |
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Thou hast amazed me: by my holy order, |
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I thought thy disposition better temper'd. |
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Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself? |
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And stay thy lady too that lives in thee, |
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By doing damned hate upon thyself? |
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Why rail'st thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth? |
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Since birth, and heaven, and earth, all three do meet |
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In thee at once; which thou at once wouldst lose. |
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Fie, fie, thou shamest thy shape, thy love, thy wit; |
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Which, like a usurer, abound'st in all, |
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And usest none in that true use indeed |
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Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit: |
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Thy noble shape is but a form of wax, |
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Digressing from the valour of a man; |
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Thy dear love sworn but hollow perjury, |
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Killing that love which thou hast vow'd to cherish; |
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Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love, |
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Misshapen in the conduct of them both, |
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Like powder in a skitless soldier's flask, |
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Is set afire by thine own ignorance, |
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And thou dismember'd with thine own defence. |
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What, rouse thee, man! thy Juliet is alive, |
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For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead; |
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There art thou happy: Tybalt would kill thee, |
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But thou slew'st Tybalt; there are thou happy too: |
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The law that threaten'd death becomes thy friend |
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And turns it to exile; there art thou happy: |
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A pack of blessings lights up upon thy back; |
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Happiness courts thee in her best array; |
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But, like a misbehaved and sullen wench, |
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Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love: |
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Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable. |
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Go, get thee to thy love, as was decreed, |
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Ascend her chamber, hence and comfort her: |
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But look thou stay not till the watch be set, |
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For then thou canst not pass to Mantua; |
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Where thou shalt live, till we can find a time |
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To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends, |
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Beg pardon of the prince, and call thee back |
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With twenty hundred thousand times more joy |
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Than thou went'st forth in lamentation. |
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Go before, nurse: commend me to thy lady; |
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And bid her hasten all the house to bed, |
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Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto: |
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Nurse |
O Lord, I could have stay'd here all the night |
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To hear good counsel: O, what learning is! |
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My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come. |
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Romeo |
Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide. |
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Nurse |
Here, sir, a ring she bid me give you, sir: |
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Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late. |
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Romeo |
How well my comfort is revived by this! |
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Friar Lawrence |
Go hence; good night; and here stands all your state: |
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Either be gone before the watch be set, |
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Or by the break of day disguised from hence: |
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Sojourn in Mantua; I'll find out your man, |
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And he shall signify from time to time |
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Every good hap to you that chances here: |
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Give me thy hand; 'tis late: farewell; good night. |
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Romeo |
But that a joy past joy calls out on me, |
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It were a grief, so brief to part with thee: Farewell. |
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