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The beast (though haunting deeps) not there con-"| Those which to take men did all snares allow, fin'd,

[head, all without baits, or nets, are taken pow. Whose haires as pretious decke each great man's Before like eagles', like a swan's behinde,

These flouds which first did fields with streames Whose feet(as oares) lo manage streames are made,

array, To waste the liquid wayes not needing winde, The rivers foure by sacred writ made knowne, Whose tayle his course doth as a rudder leade, Which (since farre sundry) make their wits to A sparke (falne from a tree) may then confound,

stray, Him with his teeth that now strikes trees to ground. WhoParadise drawne by their dreames have showne,

As turn'd from it, or it from them away; The otter black where finne-wihg'd troups repaire, In all the earth their strength shall be ore-throwne. Fresh rivers' robber, which his prey doth chuse, Whom first high pleasures, horrours huge last bound, And all that kinde, nor fish, nor flesh that are, (As if for griefe) they vanish from the ground. But do two elements (amphibions) use, Not able to touch th' earth, nor to draw th' aire In waters they their kindled skinnes infuse:

The fertile Nilus never rashly mov'd, But yet can refuge finde in neither soile,

Which (ag'd in travell) many countrey knows, They burne ou the earth, and in the deeps do boile. Whose inundation by the labourer lord,

As barrennesse or plenty it fore-shows, Flouds seeme to groans which beasts' incursion From divers meanes (but doubtfull all) is provid; maymes,

“Oft nature's work all reason's power ore-throws:" All altered then which look't of late like glasse, The ancients wondred not to finde his head, And murmur at the stayning of their streames, But it shall all invisible be made. By carkasses flot-ilotting in a masse, A moving bridge whilst every channel frames,

Heaven's indignation seizing on all things, When as there are no passengers to passe.

The greatest waters languish in their way; With beasts all buried waters are preşs'd downe, The little brooks, exhausted in their springs, Whil'st both at once their burdens burn, and drowne. For poverty cannot their tribute pay:

Of moisture spoil'd the earth craves help, not brings; The crystals quicke which slowly us'd to go, “ The mighty thus left to themselres decay; And others' heat by coldnesse did allay,

Great powers compos'd make but of many one, (As if then griev'd to be polluted so)

Whose weaknesse shows it selfe when left alone." Growne red with rage, boil'd up, pop-popling stay, And tread in triumph on their breathlesse foe, That floud whose fame more great than waters Whose ashes with their sands they levell lay.

strayd,

[owe, But Vulcan now a victor in each place,

Whose race (like it) more then their own would By violence doth all these nymphs embrace. Which from the Appennines oft gathering ayde,

Would those orethrow, who did the world orethrow, The dwellers of the deeps not harm'd in ought,

Which though unstable, only stable stay'd, When first vice all, and next the waters drown'd,

In that great city where all else fell low: So since by some more sacred still are thought,

It which so long familiar was with fame,
As whom sinne's scourge did onely not confound,

Shall be (dry'd ap) an unregarded streame.
The elements not pure to purge now brought,
Are likewise ruin'd by this generall wound.

The sheep-heard's mirrours, all like silver pure, The fishes then are boil'd in every flood,

Which curious eyes delighted were to see, [dure, Yet finde no eater that can relish food.

When flames from Heaven their beauties must en

No creature then left from confusion free,
All which corruption onely serves to feed,
When it doth end, doth end, so Heaven designes:

Even they sball grow more ugly and obscure, Nought save the soule which doth from God proceed, of their long course, there shall no signe remaine,

Then the infernall fouds are fain'd to be : Over death triumphs, and still is pleas’d, else pynes, Worse then that lake where brimstone once did Death not man's essence, but his sinne did breed,

raine. And it with it, the end of time confines. Then death and life shall never meet againe,

Whil'st Thetis bent to court, those streames(as vaine) The state then taken always doth remaiue.

That on themselves to gaze, strive time to winne, Salt seas, fresh streames, the fish which loves to And liquid serpents winding through the plaine, change,

(As if to sting the earth oft gathered in) (The rivers' prince esteem'd by dainty tastes)

Seeme to attend the remnant of their traine, Which through the ocean though at large he range, Them to out-goe, that nearer wayes would runne : The bounds him bred to see yet yearly bastes;

Even in that pompe surpris'd dry'd are their Ah, man oft wants (O monster more then strange)

deeps, This kinde affection common even to beasts.

Whose widow'd bed scarce their impression keeps. That salmond fresh for which so many strive, May then be had, boild where it liv'd alive.

That floud which doth his name from silver take,

The sea-like Obbe, and others of the Indes; The trout, the eele, and all that watrie brood, Over which a bridge men by no meanes can make, Which without feet or wings can make much way, whilst one born there amazing strangers' mindes) Then leape aloft, forc'd by the raging flood, On straw or reeds, with one behinde his backe, Not as they us'd before, for sport, or prey: (stood, Can crosse them all, both scorning waves and windes: That which (once freez'd) their glasse to gaze in Their empty channels may be troad on dry, Now (turn'd to lames) makes what it bred decay. (Though pav'd with pearles) then pretious in no eye.

The great which change before they end their race, She of her nest, against the waves presumes,
Salt Aouds, fresh seas, by mutual bands as past, Bat never look’t for fire which all consumes.
Which th'ocean charge, and tho'igh repuls'd a space,
Yet make a breach and enter at the last,
Which from the earth (that strives them to embrace) Which lodg'd griev'd lonas harmelesse in his wombe,

The greatest monster of the ocean's brood,
Now haste with speed, and straight a compasse cast :

And did disgest (yet to be fed) a food, They then for helpe to Neptune seeke in vaine,

A buried quicke man in a living tombe, [floud, By Vulcan ravish'd ere his waves they gaine.

Doth (monstrous masse) now tumble through the

As scorning force could make him to succumbe: The raging rampire which doth alwaies move,

But straight his finnes all fir'd, a farre doe shine, Whose floting waves entrench the solid round,

As if some Pharos, but a deathfull signe.
And (whilst by Titan's kisse drawne up above)
From Heaven's alembicke dropt upon the ground,
Of fruits and plants, the vitall bloud doe prove,

That little wonder decking Thetis bowre,
And foster all that on the Earth are found: Whose adamantine touch there strongly bindes
It likewise yeelds to the Eternal's ire,

(Though both it saile and swimme) a wooden towre, Loe, all the sea not serves to quench this fire. For which man's wit no show of reason findes ;

O matchlessc vertue, admirable power, [winds ! Yet did the sea presage this threatned ill,

Which fights and foiles alone, sailes, oares, waves, With ugly roarings ere that it arriv'd,

Of all which live it that most strength hath shown, As if contending all Hell's fires to kill,

Press'd down by vulgar bands doth dye unknown. By violence to burst, whilst through it driv'd, Which must make monstrous sounds jar-jaring still, That moving mountaine in a fearefull forme, As heate with cold, with moisture drynesse striv'd: Which compassing a ship, it downewards flings, Whilst love-like thundring, Pluto doth grow proud, And even in calmes doth vomit forth a storme, Even as when fires force passage through a cloud.

Whose bloud (all poison) where it touches stings,

That monstrous masse, if serpent, eele, or worme, O what strange sight, not to be borne with eyes !

To hastie ruine his owne greatnesse brings : That tennis-court where oft the windes too bold,

" The greatest sought for harmes are soonest spy'd, What still rebounded toss'd unto the skies,

Where little ones a little thing will hide."
And to the ground from thence have head-longs rold,
Doth now in raging rounds, not furrowes rise,
Theu hosts of heate, as us’d to be of cold :

Of all the humid host, tbe most esteem'd,
All government the liquid state neglects,

The gentle dolphins (where the deepths doe roare) Whil'st Vulcan's hammer, Neptune's trident breks. Which (not ingrate) who them redeem'd, redeem'd,

Him help'd alive, and did when dead deplore ; When this huge vessell doth to boyle begin, Of which one once with musicke ravish'd seem'd, What can it fill with matter fit to purge?

When carrying Arion safely to the shore : The Earth as else without, if throwne within, Those which delight so much in pleasant sounds, With all her creatures kept but for a scourge, The contrary preventing fire confounds. To wash away the foulenesse of that sinne, Which on fraile flesh, strong nature oft doth urge : The fairest nymph which haunts the Aoting state, Bat ah, my thoughts are vaine, this cannot be,

To whose great beauty, Thetis envy beares, Seas cleanse not sinne, sinne doth defile the sea.

The ocean's Muse, from whose sweet sounds (soule's

The lord of Ithaca did stop his eares, (bate) O foule contagion, spreading still to death, Of what she was most proud, that hastes her fate; What pest most odious can with thee compare? The golden baires which she dishevel'd weares : Which first by thoughts conceiv'd, then born with

Then whil'st they burne, her head seemes crowu'd breath,

with light: Doth straight infect the sea, the earth, the ayre, Thus showes maske misery, and mocke the sight. Which, damn'd in justice, and chastis'd in wrath, Doth show that God no creature's spots will spare: All scourges must be scourg'd, and even the fire,

Those which from slight, by slight their lives oft As but impure, must feele th' effects of ire.

The angler drawing scorned lines to land, [winne,

Whilst some do cast forth hooks, some draw them in, That restlesse element which never sleepes,

And some benumme the gazing holder's hand; But by it selfe, when by nought else, is wrought,

They can finde helpe in neither force, nor finne, Which joynes all lands, yet them asunder keepes, In scale, in shell, on rocke, in mudde, or sand : It (ruine's rocke) for refuge last is sought,

Whil'st Triton's sounds to tragick notes doe turne, For troupes doe throw themselves amidst the deeps, They in the deeps are boil'd, or on the banks do As if death reft, then given, lesse griefe were thought:

burne. "Thus is despaire hot sonne of father cold, Rash without hope, and without courage bold.” The floting lodgings that all soiles doe try, [stray,

Which whil'st they walke on waves, and burden'd The loving alcion, trusty to her mate,

Seeme swimming mountaines, castles that doe iye, The which (save this)

no other storme could catch, Which cannons arme, and ensigues doe array, Whose arke not erres amid'st the going gate, At first for smoke they nought about them spy, Though none in it with art the waves doth watch, Till all their sayles (on fire) doe cleare their way: To many monsters, as expos’d a bait,

Whil'st flouds and flames doe all their force imploy, Which moving sits, and in the deepes doth batch : As if they strived, which should the ship destroy

The liquid labyrinth, thou who first did'st prove, Which barbarous customes founded to remove,
No doubt thy desp'rate heart was arm'd with steele, Most civill first, most subtile last did prove.
Did not the waves and clouds which alwaies move,
(Firme objects wanting) make thy eyes to reele? Those which great monarchs strongly strir'd to
Then he who first did steale fire from above,

owe,
Thou greater torments do'st deserve to feele: (As which oft times a kingdome's keyes doe prove)
He onely sought the fire to quicken breath, By mines like earth-quakes shaken from below,
And thou the water, as a way to death.

By salphurous thunder battered from above,

Yet (as orethrown) them hopelesse to ore-throw, 0! hatefull monster, since the world began, Which with thine owne could never yet be pleas'd, Those which at powers of armed emperours spurn'd,

With scorned squadrons did disdain'd remove: For lacke of rayment cold, for hunger wan,

Are at an instant then, charg'd, sack'd, and With what thou hast, though many might be eas'd,

burn'd. Thou poison'st first the quiet minde of man, Whose fury since can never be appeas'd:

Brare citizens which have resisted long, But seekes both sea and land with endlesse care,

Till their dismantled towne all naked stands, And wants but wings to violate the aire.

And are by weakenesse left unto the strong, That which encroach'd on every bordering shore,

All taken, kill'd, or sold (like beasts) in bands, By oft renu'd assaults asurping myles,

As bound of right to suffer all the wrong, Shall then all ebbe, not Aowing as before,

Of rajling tongues, or of outragious hands:
Whilst travelling Thetis doth bring forth new iles, They of this last assault no type can see ;
Which birth soone old, to be embrac'd no more,

Even worse then was, or can imagin'd be.
She loth to leave, oft turnes, and kissing smiles:
Till all the world one withered masse appeares,

Ah! if one house when onely fir'd by chance, Spoil'd of all moisture, save man's fruitlesse teares.

Doth straight confound a city all with feare,

What minde can think, though thoughts the same What hideous object! what a horrid sight!

entrance, O terrour strange which even I quake to thinke! How those inhabitants themselves shall beare, Where all of late was levell at one height, (sinke, Whose townes (like lightning) vanish with a glance, Their mountaine's mount, and fields farre down do whil'st them a moment doth in pieces teare? All pav'd with monsters, which if painting right, This with amazement may benumme the minde, Feare would make paper blacke, and pale my inke: But will seeme small, a greater then divin'd. The seas with borrour so arrest my hand, I must amaz'd retire me to the land.

Base miser, thou who by all meanes hast us'd, The land where pleasure lodg'd, where rest did rest,

To bruise the poore, and on their spoiles to feed, Which did abound in fruits, in fowles, and beasts,

In measure, weight, and quality abus'd, Of which (all good) none could discerne the best,

Whil'st of all evils, dearth is the least they dread, In number more (though many) then men's tastes, That wealth by thee even to thy selfe refus'd, Which should refresh fraile nature when distress'd,

Which might of thousands have releer'd the 'Though them fond man superfluously wastes:

need : Till that the Earth doth to a chaos turne, [burne. Shall all in flames upbraid thee with Hell's fire, Which since his teares not wash, his sinnes shall Whose use then at thy hands-God will require. Where are the flowry fields, the fishy streames, Thou who to riches wąst preferr'd from nought,

The pasturing mountaines, and the fertile plaines, Though once but poore, contemn’d, of base degree, With shadowes oft, oft clad with Titan's beames, For whom at leugth all realmes by shippes were As of Heaven's pleasures types, and of Hell's paines ?

sought, (Thus in our brest, some thoughts each moment So that no winde could blow but serving thee, claimes,

Yet would not comfort those who stary'd in ought, To curbe rash joy with contemplation's raines:) Not mindefull what thou wast, nor what to be: Where are all those delights in league with sense, As naked born, thou naked shalt returne, Which make a Heaven when here, a Hell when Else kept to see thy wealth, thy selfe next burne.

hence ? Thou who thy thoughts from no fond course re

Those stately statues which great townes doe grace, claimes,

And monuments (as rare) which mindes amaze, But do'st thy eyes with pleasant objects cloy,

The world's seven wonders, wondred at a space, And let'st thy heart have all at which it aymes,

Wbil'st strangers long did on their reliques gaze, Bent of the sonnes of men to want no joy;

If that ere then time doe them not deface, Those to thy sleeping spule are all but dreames,

A little flash sball even their ruines raze,
Which waking findes this treasure but a toy :

Which onely serve to witnesse to each sight,
Thinke, thinke, when all confounded thus remaines, Their idle builder's vanity and might.
If temporall joy be worth eternall paines.

Those palaces amongst rare things enrol'd, Those stately townes, whose towres did brave Hea. Which architectors' numbrous art bewray, ven's rounds,

With interlaced roofes, emboss'd with gold, Their kingdome's quintessence for wealth and skill, On marbled walles which costly workes array, A state's abridgement drawn in little bounds, Though rich without, yet worthy but to hold, Which are (whil'st them guests of all lands doe fill) | A richer riches, which within doth stay, Mappes of the world, deduc'd from divers grounds Past emulation, admiration's marke; Where all life's parts are act’d, both good and ill, All their great pompe doth perish with a sparke.

Those second. Edens, gardens of delight,

Then every one of them to Hell repaires, Where time's bright patron justly parts the houres, or else a greater heat doth drink up theirs. Where meu to gaze, all objects doe invite, In alwaies lying walkes, and growing bowres, Great monarchs, whom ambitious hopes do drive, In smelling beds with pleasure ravishd quite, To raise their owne by razing others' thrones, Whil'st wandring in a labyrinth of flowers, Who spare no wayes that there they may arrive, Where art with nature still for praise contends, Through orphan's teares, man's bloud, and woman's A strife though oft times judg:d, which never ends :

grones,

[strive,

And aħ those earthly mindes which for th' earth Where Flora's treasures with Pomona's strive, By passing bounds, and altering setled stones; Low shining groves with shadow'd lights above, All such that day not lords of their owne grave, Whil'st art (by engines rais'd,) doth water drive, Shall have no earth, nor them no earth shall havę. Borne through the ayre an uncouth way to prove, Anni by all sounds which creatures can contrive, The Earth, as glorying in her changed state, To melt in mirth, would melancholy move: With face all bright with flames, seemes lightning Those pleasant parts shall straight abhorr'd remaine,

smiles, As where salt sowne, or showres of brimstone raine. Whil'st free from wounds and toils, indur'd of late,

Oft burn'd, oft freez'd, which every day defiles, Those walking worms, which (with worms' spoiles Though forc'd she must conceive (a fertile mate) array'd)

Her husband's hopes who often times beguiles. Would purchase homage from each credulous eye, And as she would revenge all troubles past, And yet (as asses) worth an asse not weigh'd, She yeelds up man whom she had hid at last. Whil'st having nought of worth, but what they buy, They shall see that which so their fancies sway'd, That element which, onely needing aid, The Tyrian purple, and th’ Assyrian dye:

May be made more, and doth on others feed, Of pride the badges, and the baits of lust,

Whose piercing powers can in no bounds be staid ; Though kept with toile from dust, all turn’d to dust. Such bodies small that thiekned rarenesse breed,

The onely essence, which can not be weigh'd, Those glorious roomes of darkenesse, robbing night, And void of weight, doth alwayes upward speed. Where even the walls rich garments doe invest, That soone may seize on all when once set free, Where ivory beds, with gold all glancing bright, Which infinitly multipli'd may be. Are made for show, as others are for rest, And objects need to entertaine the sight,

But lest my furie be too farre declin'd, Which lodge (since great) a seldome sleeping guest: That with the flames to flie have striv'd in vaine, Now at last ala ne to them who live,

I must a space within my selfe confin'd, They then a cottage no more comfort'give. Fresh succours seek to charge of new againe ;

So great amazement hath ore-wbelm'd my minde, Those pretious stones which most in worth excell,

That now I in an agony remaine. Por vertue least, for vanity much sought,

But he who did in fierie tongues descend, Pearles, rubies, diamonds, from rocke, from shell,

As through the fire, will leade me to the end. Pro e depths of flouds, from mountains' entrails

brought,
Made gods with men, whose Heaven is hatching Hell,
Prys'd by opinion, but by substance bought:
The sweet perfumes, and all which is esteem'd,

DOOMES-DAY;
Wast (by the owners' wish) not once redeem'd.

OR, That dreadfull storme as striving to begin,

THE GREAT DAY OF THE LORD'S IVDGEMENT.
Mount Ætna's flames, which roare while as supprest,
And that which swallowing Nature's student in,

THE FOURTH HOURL
Did him digest, who could it not digest,
And all those bills whence streames of sulphur run,
Shall with their fires, then fortifie the rest :

THE ARGUMENT.
Whose generall floud, whil'st it the world ore-comes,
None knowes where kindled first, nor whence it comes.

A hideous trumpet horriblie doth sound;

Who sleep in graves a mighty voyce doth wake; The lucrous coal (though black) a pretious stone, By angels (messengers) charg'd from each ground, Whose force as Vulcan will, makes Mars 10 bend, All flesh comes forth that ever soule did take; Of Albion's jewels second unto none,

Seas give account of all whom they have drown'd; To art and nature both a speciall friend,

The Earth her guests long hid in haste gives backe: Then when of it the needfall use is gone;

Those who then live are at an instant chang'd, What it maintain'd, it likewise helps to end. Though not from life, yet still from death estrang'd. And thus the Earth (though cold)with fire then stor'd, To burne it selfe materials doth afford. Those bathing springs which free physitians prove, So great a power my sacred guide imparts, Yet for all evils one onely cure can show,

That still my Muse doth raise her vent'rous fight, The which may seeme whil'st boyling up above, Thongh with confusion compass'd on all parts, A part of Phlegeton ore-flow'd below:

My troubled thoughts dare on no object light; But for man's health nought can from thence remove, The world by flames (a charmer) justly smarts, Where he doth dwell who would the world orethrow. | Whose ashes now seeme to upbraid my sight;

Though feares would quench those fires my breast | Such bosomes serpents nurse whose stings they try, that burne,

Pride, æmulation, envy, jelousie. Yet I must sing, that thousands else may mourne.

As prick'd with thorne some in their beds doe roule, To płague proud man who look'd of late aloft,

Whilst charg'd with thoughts, which but their cares The Earth still pure, till made by bim uncleane,

abuse, By whome, as fierce for blood, or by lust soft,

And make that mettall idols of their soule; She (forc'd to beare) in both abus'd bad beene, Which in a calfe the lewes great ludge did bruise; Straight (as a strumpet prostituted oft) Now by her lovers naked shall be seene;

Their greedy course whilst nothing can controule,

Though having more then they themselves can An odious masse (even in her owners' eyes)

use; (As bruis'd by thunder) whilst she with’red lyes. Like them who drinke more then they can digest, Now of all states the fatall period comes,

Who keepe the appetite, but not the taste. Which showes how time was short, world's great- The Devill in darkenesse held most powerfull still, nesse small;

Some when retir'd imagine mischiefe strange, Fierce Vulcan's fury Neptune's so orecomes, And to shed blood doe dedicate their will, That not one drop remaines to weepe his fall; Whilst tortur'd with a fury of revenge; Loe, all the world one continent becomes,

More guilty he who in his heart doth kill, Whereas save man no creature lives at all;

Although his course (if disappointed) change; The sea to earth, the earth all turnes to fire,

Then he who doth by chance one's death proA monstrous comet threatning coming ire.

cure, 0! what a vault I see of angels' wings,

“ No member guilty, if the minde be pure.” Whose greater brightnesse makes the fires decline! Though beds should be as private graves for rest, A glorious guard fit for the King of kings,

While as death's image doth seize living dust, Whilst they (like rayes) about that Sunne doe shine.

Yet some (runne mad) as raging in a pest, But, O! his presence (past expressing) brings

Voluptuouslie their fancies surfet must, A reall glory all in all divine;

A filthie fury poysoning the brest, All as from darkenesse looke upon this light,

With strange delights of a prodigious lust; Whilst flames (as mysts) doe flie before his sight.

The which whilst walking so corrupts their will, Those blessed bands in state of grace which stood,

That when they sleepe, it doth delude them still. (As ministers admitted unto God) To mortalls sometime which tould tidings good,

Not onely shall this sudden charge surprise, And oft did strike with indignation's rod;

Such in their sinnes as do from God rebell, They, who till com'd, this time not understood,

But even all those who evils by night devise, With Christ arise all ready at his nod;

As loving darknesse, shall in darknesse dwell : And free from envy which did marre their mates,

Who with a conscience calme all feares despise, Doe seeke with joy the partners of their states.

Not having hope of Heaven, nor feare of Hell :

Such to an owle make God inferiour be, The dregs of Adam's race shall soone disclose As if by night, night's maker nought could see, What God's decree involv'd in clouds doth keepe, That time, that time, which must confound all those, Wing'd messengers may then even some arrest, Whose thoughts are plung'd in pleasure's ground- Who, rioting till quite exhausted all, Jesse deepe,

(Whilst in their vomits wallowing they rest) Even then perchance (that nature may repose)

From men to beasts, from beasts to nought do When all the senses buried are in sleepe;

fall: Ah! how those eyes unclos'd amaz'd remaine,

Those dead (though living) who can but deteste, Which from that time should never close againe.

As Nature's monsters mankinde to appall?

In them who have their reason drown'd in wine, O ten times curst!'whom Christ that time shall finde, No sparke of God's, nor Nature's light doth shine. Still hatching evill, defrauding Nature's due, Whilst darkenesse makes the eyes (though open) Some rating pleasure at too high a price, blinde,

Who with the light do lay all shame aside, And makes the minde wbat it affects to view, Do prostitute their souls to every vice; Which (wing'd with thoughts) fare swifter then the If not then free (by beastlinesse) from pride; winde,

Then their whole states oft venture on the dice, Though (still confin'd) doth all, over all, pursue ; As who in nought but furtune do confide; What doubtfull projects flote within his brest, By many odious oath such mock God's might, Who dreames yet sleepes not, lyes, but doth not True works of darkenesse worthy of the night. rest.

Fond worldlings there involv'd in vaine delight, When that crown'd bird which Peter's braggs did Who to the senses fraile indulgent are,

And (as soft sounds the courage do mvite) (As still a friend to light) seemes to cite light, With measur'd madnesse march upon the aire ; Some more conceive then ever could be borne, Whilst from themselves by pleasure ravish'd quite, Whilst big with monsters of imagin'd might, What it provokes no kinde of sport they spare; And'aiery names with shadowes to adorne, Their eares attending musick's soule to have, Doe build high hopes which fall, ere at the height; Of this dread blast the first assault receive.

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