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The Old Bachelor

W >> William Congreve >> The Old Bachelor

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6



That woman sure enjoys a blessed night,
Whom love and vengeance both at once delight.



ACT IV.--SCENE I.



SCENE: The Street.

BELLMOUR, in fanatic habit, SETTER.

BELL. 'Tis pretty near the hour. [Looking on his watch.] Well,
and how, Setter, hae, does my hypocrisy fit me, hae? Does it sit
easy on me?

SET. Oh, most religiously well, sir.

BELL. I wonder why all our young fellows should glory in an
opinion of atheism, when they may be so much more conveniently lewd
under the coverlet of religion.

SET. S'bud, sir, away quickly: there's Fondlewife just turned the
corner, and 's coming this way.

BELL. Gad's so, there he is: he must not see me.


SCENE II.


FONDLEWIFE, BARNABY.

FOND. I say I will tarry at home.

BAR. But, sir.

FOND. Good lack! I profess the spirit of contradiction hath
possessed the lad--I say I will tarry at home, varlet.

BAR. I have done, sir; then farewell five hundred pound.

FOND. Ha, how's that? Stay, stay, did you leave word, say you,
with his wife? With Comfort herself?

BAR. I did; and Comfort will send Tribulation hither as soon as
ever he comes home. I could have brought young Mr. Prig to have
kept my mistress company in the meantime. But you say -

FOND. How, how, say, varlet! I say let him not come near my
doors. I say, he is a wanton young Levite, and pampereth himself
up with dainties, that he may look lovely in the eyes of women.
Sincerely, I am afraid he hath already defiled the tabernacle of
our sister Comfort; while her good husband is deluded by his godly
appearance. I say that even lust doth sparkle in his eyes and glow
upon his cheeks, and that I would as soon trust my wife with a
lord's high-fed chaplain.

BAR. Sir, the hour draws nigh, and nothing will be done here until
you come.

FOND. And nothing can be done here until I go; so that I'll tarry,
de'e see.

BAR. And run the hazard to lose your affair, sir!

FOND. Good lack, good lack--I profess it is a very sufficient
vexation for a man to have a handsome wife.

BAR. Never, sir, but when the man is an insufficient husband.
'Tis then, indeed, like the vanity of taking a fine house, and yet
be forced to let lodgings to help pay the rent.

FOND. I profess a very apt comparison, varlet. Go and bid my
Cocky come out to me; I will give her some instructions, I will
reason with her before I go.


SCENE III.


FONDLEWIFE alone.

And in the meantime I will reason with myself. Tell me, Isaac, why
art thee jealous? Why art thee distrustful of the wife of thy
bosom? Because she is young and vigorous, and I am old and
impotent. Then why didst thee marry, Isaac? Because she was
beautiful and tempting, and because I was obstinate and doting; so
that my inclination was (and is still) greater than my power. And
will not that which tempted thee, also tempt others, who will tempt
her, Isaac? I fear it much. But does not thy wife love thee, nay,
dote upon thee? Yes. Why then! Ay, but to say truth, she's
fonder of me than she has reason to be; and in the way of trade, we
still suspect the smoothest dealers of the deepest designs. And
that she has some designs deeper than thou canst reach, thou hast
experimented, Isaac. But, mum.


SCENE IV.


FONDLEWIFE, LAETITIA.

LAET. I hope my dearest jewel is not going to leave me--are you,
Nykin?

FOND. Wife--have you thoroughly considered how detestable, how
heinous, and how crying a sin the sin of adultery is? Have you
weighed it, I say? For it is a very weighty sin; and although it
may lie heavy upon thee, yet thy husband must also bear his part.
For thy iniquity will fall upon his head.

LAET. Bless me, what means my dear?

FOND. [Aside.] I profess she has an alluring eye; I am doubtful
whether I shall trust her, even with Tribulation himself. Speak, I
say, have you considered what it is to cuckold your husband?

LAET. [Aside.] I'm amazed. Sure he has discovered nothing. Who
has wronged me to my dearest? I hope my jewel does not think that
ever I had any such thing in my head, or ever will have.

FOND. No, no, I tell you I shall have it in my head -

LAET. [Aside.] I know not what to think. But I'm resolved to
find the meaning of it. Unkind dear! Was it for this you sent to
call me? Is it not affliction enough that you are to leave me, but
you must study to increase it by unjust suspicions? [Crying.]
Well--well--you know my fondness, and you love to tyrannise--Go on,
cruel man, do: triumph over my poor heart while it holds, which
cannot be long, with this usage of yours. But that's what you
want. Well, you will have your ends soon. You will--you will.
Yes, it will break to oblige you. [Sighs.]

FOND. Verily, I fear I have carried the jest too far. Nay, look
you now if she does not weep--'tis the fondest fool. Nay, Cocky,
Cocky, nay, dear Cocky, don't cry, I was but in jest, I was not,
ifeck.

LAET. [Aside.] Oh then, all's safe. I was terribly frighted. My
affliction is always your jest, barbarous man! Oh, that I should
love to this degree! Yet -

FOND. Nay, Cocky.

LAET. No, no, you are weary of me, that's it--that's all, you
would get another wife--another fond fool, to break her heart--
Well, be as cruel as you can to me, I'll pray for you; and when I
am dead with grief, may you have one that will love you as well as
I have done: I shall be contented to lie at peace in my cold
grave--since it will please you. [Sighs.]

FOND. Good lack, good lack, she would melt a heart of oak--I
profess I can hold no longer. Nay, dear Cocky--ifeck, you'll break
my heart--ifeck you will. See, you have made me weep--made poor
Nykin weep. Nay, come kiss, buss poor Nykin--and I won't leave
thee--I'll lose all first.

LAET. [Aside.] How! Heaven forbid! that will be carrying the
jest too far indeed.

FOND. Won't you kiss Nykin?

LAET. Go, naughty Nykin, you don't love me.

FOND. Kiss, kiss, ifeck, I do.

LAET. No, you don't. [She kisses him.]

FOND. What, not love Cocky!

LAET. No-h. [Sighs.]

FOND. I profess I do love thee better than five hundred pound--and
so thou shalt say, for I'll leave it to stay with thee.

LAET. No you sha'n't neglect your business for me. No, indeed,
you sha'n't, Nykin. If you don't go, I'll think you been dealous
of me still.

FOND. He, he, he, wilt thou, poor fool? Then I will go, I won't
be dealous. Poor Cocky, kiss Nykin, kiss Nykin, ee, ee, ee. Here
will be the good man anon, to talk to Cocky and teach her how a
wife ought to behave herself.

LAET. [Aside.] I hope to have one that will show me how a husband
ought to behave himself. I shall be glad to learn, to please my
jewel. [Kiss.]

FOND. That's my good dear. Come, kiss Nykin once more, and then
get you in. So--get you in, get you in. Bye, bye.

LAET. Bye, Nykin.

FOND. Bye, Cocky.

LAET. Bye, Nykin.

FOND. Bye, Cocky, bye, bye.


SCENE V.


VAINLOVE, SHARPER.

SHARP. How! Araminta lost!

VAIN. To confirm what I have said, read this. [Gives a letter.]

SHARP. [Reads.] Hum, hum! And what then appeared a fault, upon
reflection seems only an effect of a too powerful passion. I'm
afraid I give too great a proof of my own at this time. I am in
disorder for what I have written. But something, I know not what,
forced me. I only beg a favourable censure of this and your
ARAMINTA.

SHARP. Lost! Pray heaven thou hast not lost thy wits. Here,
here, she's thy own, man, signed and sealed too. To her, man--a
delicious melon, pure and consenting ripe, and only waits thy
cutting up: she has been breeding love to thee all this while, and
just now she's delivered of it.

VAIN. 'Tis an untimely fruit, and she has miscarried of her love.

SHARP. Never leave this damned ill-natured whimsey, Frank? Thou
hast a sickly, peevish appetite; only chew love and cannot digest
it.

VAIN. Yes, when I feed myself. But I hate to be crammed. By
heaven, there's not a woman will give a man the pleasure of a
chase: my sport is always balked or cut short. I stumble over the
game I would pursue. 'Tis dull and unnatural to have a hare run
full in the hounds' mouth, and would distaste the keenest hunter.
I would have overtaken, not have met, my game.

SHARP. However, I hope you don't mean to forsake it; that will be
but a kind of mongrel cur's trick. Well, are you for the Mall?

VAIN. No; she will be there this evening. Yes, I will go too, and
she shall see her error in -

SHARP. In her choice, I-gad. But thou canst not be so great a
brute as to slight her.

VAIN. I should disappoint her if I did not. By her management I
should think she expects it.

All naturally fly what does pursue:
'Tis fit men should be coy when women woo.


SCENE VI.


A Room in Fondlewife's House.

A SERVANT introducing BELLMOUR, in fanatic habit, with a patch upon
one eye and a book in his hand.

SERV. Here's a chair, sir, if you please to repose yourself. My
mistress is coming, sir.

BELL. Secure in my disguise I have out-faced suspicion and even
dared discovery. This cloak my sanctity, and trusty Scarron's
novels my prayer-book; methinks I am the very picture of Montufar
in the Hypocrites. Oh! she comes.


SCENE VII.


BELLMOUR, LAETITIA.

So breaks Aurora through the veil of night,
Thus fly the clouds, divided by her light,
And every eye receives a new-born sight.
[Throwing off his cloak, patch, etc.]

LAET. Thus strewed with blushes, like--Ah! Heaven defend me!
Who's this? [Discovering him, starts.]

BELL. Your lover.

LAET. Vainlove's friend! I know his face, and he has betrayed me
to him. [Aside.]

BELL. You are surprised. Did you not expect a lover, madam?
Those eyes shone kindly on my first appearance, though now they are
o'ercast.

LAET. I may well be surprised at your person and impudence: they
are both new to me. You are not what your first appearance
promised: the piety of your habit was welcome, but not the
hypocrisy.

BELL. Rather the hypocrisy was welcome, but not the hypocrite.

LAET. Who are you, sir? You have mistaken the house sure.

BELL. I have directions in my pocket which agree with everything
but your unkindness. [Pulls out the letter.]

LAET. My letter! Base Vainlove! Then 'tis too late to dissemble.
[Aside.] 'Tis plain, then, you have mistaken the person. [Going.]

BELL. If we part so I'm mistaken. Hold, hold, madam! I confess I
have run into an error. I beg your pardon a thousand times. What
an eternal blockhead am I! Can you forgive me the disorder I have
put you into? But it is a mistake which anybody might have made.

LAET. What can this mean? 'Tis impossible he should be mistaken
after all this. A handsome fellow if he had not surprised me.
Methinks, now I look on him again, I would not have him mistaken.
[Aside.] We are all liable to mistakes, sir. If you own it to be
so, there needs no farther apology.

BELL. Nay, faith, madam, 'tis a pleasant one, and worth your
hearing. Expecting a friend last night, at his lodgings, till
'twas late, my intimacy with him gave me the freedom of his bed.
He not coming home all night, a letter was delivered to me by a
servant in the morning. Upon the perusal I found the contents so
charming that I could think of nothing all day but putting 'em in
practice, until just now, the first time I ever looked upon the
superscription, I am the most surprised in the world to find it
directed to Mr. Vainlove. Gad, madam, I ask you a million of
pardons, and will make you any satisfaction.

LAET. I am discovered. And either Vainlove is not guilty, or he
has handsomely excused him. [Aside.]

BELL. You appear concerned, madam.

LAET. I hope you are a gentleman;--and since you are privy to a
weak woman's failing, won't turn it to the prejudice of her
reputation. You look as if you had more honour -

BELL. And more love, or my face is a false witness and deserves to
be pilloried. No, by heaven, I swear -

LAET. Nay, don't swear if you'd have me believe you; but promise -

BELL. Well, I promise. A promise is so cold: give me leave to
swear, by those eyes, those killing eyes, by those healing lips.
Oh! press the soft charm close to mine, and seal 'em up for ever.

LAET. Upon that condition. [He kisses her.]

BELL. Eternity was in that moment. One more, upon any condition!

LAET. Nay, now--I never saw anything so agreeably impudent.
[Aside.] Won't you censure me for this, now?--but 'tis to buy your
silence. [Kiss.] Oh, but what am I doing!

BELL. Doing! No tongue can express it--not thy own, nor anything,
but thy lips. I am faint with the excess of bliss. Oh, for love-
sake, lead me anywhither, where I may lie down --quickly, for I'm
afraid I shall have a fit.

LAET. Bless me! What fit?

BELL. Oh, a convulsion--I feel the symptoms.

LAET. Does it hold you long? I'm afraid to carry you into my
chamber.

BELL. Oh, no: let me lie down upon the bed; the fit will be soon
over.


SCENE VIII.


SCENE: St. James's Park.

ARAMINTA and BELINDA meeting.

BELIN. Lard, my dear, I am glad I have met you; I have been at the
Exchange since, and am so tired -

ARAM. Why, what's the matter?

BELIN. Oh the most inhuman, barbarous hackney-coach! I am jolted
to a jelly. Am I not horribly touzed? [Pulls out a pocket-glass.]

ARAM. Your head's a little out of order.

BELIN. A little! O frightful! What a furious phiz I have! O
most rueful! Ha, ha, ha. O Gad, I hope nobody will come this way,
till I have put myself a little in repair. Ah! my dear, I have
seen such unhewn creatures since. Ha, ha, ha. I can't for my soul
help thinking that I look just like one of 'em. Good dear, pin
this, and I'll tell you--very well--so, thank you, my dear--but as
I was telling you--pish, this is the untowardest lock--so, as I was
telling you--how d'ye like me now? Hideous, ha? Frightful still?
Or how?

ARAM. No, no; you're very well as can be.

BELIN. And so--but where did I leave off, my dear? I was telling
you -

ARAM. You were about to tell me something, child, but you left off
before you began.

BELIN. Oh; a most comical sight: a country squire, with the
equipage of a wife and two daughters, came to Mrs. Snipwel's shop
while I was there--but oh Gad! two such unlicked cubs!

ARAM. I warrant, plump, cherry-cheeked country girls.

BELIN. Ay, o' my conscience, fat as barn-door fowl: but so
bedecked, you would have taken 'em for Friesland hens, with their
feathers growing the wrong way. O such outlandish creatures! Such
Tramontanae, and foreigners to the fashion, or anything in
practice! I had not patience to behold. I undertook the modelling
of one of their fronts, the more modern structure -

ARAM. Bless me, cousin; why would you affront anybody so? They
might be gentlewomen of a very good family -

BELIN. Of a very ancient one, I dare swear, by their dress.
Affront! pshaw, how you're mistaken! The poor creature, I warrant,
was as full of curtsies, as if I had been her godmother. The truth
on't is, I did endeavour to make her look like a Christian--and she
was sensible of it, for she thanked me, and gave me two apples,
piping hot, out of her under-petticoat pocket. Ha, ha, ha: and
t'other did so stare and gape, I fancied her like the front of her
father's hall; her eyes were the two jut-windows, and her mouth the
great door, most hospitably kept open for the entertainment of
travelling flies.

ARAM. So then, you have been diverted. What did they buy?

BELIN. Why, the father bought a powder-horn, and an almanac, and a
comb-case; the mother, a great fruz-towr, and a fat amber necklace;
the daughters only tore two pairs of kid-leather gloves, with
trying 'em on. O Gad, here comes the fool that dined at my Lady
Freelove's t'other day.


SCENE IX.


[To them] SIR JOSEPH and BLUFFE.

ARAM. May be he may not know us again.

BELIN. We'll put on our masks to secure his ignorance. [They put
on their masks.]

SIR JO. Nay, Gad, I'll pick up; I'm resolved to make a night on't.
I'll go to Alderman Fondlewife by and by, and get fifty pieces more
from him. Adslidikins, bully, we'll wallow in wine and women.
Why, this same Madeira wine has made me as light as a grasshopper.
Hist, hist, bully, dost thou see those tearers? [Sings.] Look you
what here is--look you what here is--toll--loll--dera--toll--loll--
agad, t'other glass of Madeira, and I durst have attacked 'em in my
own proper person, without your help.

BLUFF. Come on then, knight. But do you know what to say to them?

SIR JO. Say: pooh, pox, I've enough to say--never fear it--that
is, if I can but think on't: truth is, I have but a treacherous
memory.

BELIN. O frightful! cousin, what shall we do? These things come
towards us.

ARAM. No matter. I see Vainlove coming this way--and, to confess
my failing, I am willing to give him an opportunity of making his
peace with me--and to rid me of these coxcombs, when I seem opprest
with 'em, will be a fair one.

BLUFF. Ladies, by these hilts you are well met.

ARAM. We are afraid not.

BLUFF. What says my pretty little knapsack carrier. [To BELINDA.]

BELIN. O monstrous filthy fellow! good slovenly Captain Huffe,
Bluffe (what is your hideous name?) be gone: you stink of brandy
and tobacco, most soldier-like. Foh. [Spits.]

SIR JO. Now am I slap-dash down in the mouth, and have not one
word to say! [Aside.]

ARAM. I hope my fool has not confidence enough to be troublesome.
[Aside.]

SIR JO. Hem! Pray, madam, which way is the wind?

ARAM. A pithy question. Have you sent your wits for a venture,
sir, that you enquire?

SIR JO. Nay, now I'm in, I can prattle like a magpie. [Aside.]


SCENE X.


[To them] SHARPER and VAINLOVE at some distance.

BELIN. Dear Araminta, I'm tired.

ARAM. 'Tis but pulling off our masks, and obliging Vainlove to
know us. I'll be rid of my fool by fair means.--Well, Sir Joseph,
you shall see my face; but, be gone immediately. I see one that
will be jealous, to find me in discourse with you. Be discreet.
No reply; but away. [Unmasks.]

SIR JO. The great fortune, that dined at my Lady Freelove's! Sir
Joseph, thou art a made man. Agad, I'm in love up to the ears.
But I'll be discreet, and hushed. [Aside.]

BLUFF. Nay, by the world, I'll see your face.

BELIN. You shall. [Unmasks.]

SHARP. Ladies, your humble servant. We were afraid you would not
have given us leave to know you.

ARAM. We thought to have been private. But we find fools have the
same advantage over a face in a mask that a coward has while the
sword is in the scabbard, so were forced to draw in our own
defence.

BLUFF. My blood rises at that fellow: I can't stay where he is;
and I must not draw in the park. [To SIR JOSEPH.]

SIR JO. I wish I durst stay to let her know my lodging.


SCENE XI.


ARAMINTA, BELINDA, VAINLOVE, SHARPER.

SHARP. There is in true beauty, as in courage, somewhat which
narrow souls cannot dare to admire. And see, the owls are fled, as
at the break of day.

BELIN. Very courtly. I believe Mr. Vainlove has not rubbed his
eyes since break of day neither, he looks as if he durst not
approach. Nay, come, cousin, be friends with him. I swear he
looks so very simply--ha, ha, ha. Well, a lover in the state of
separation from his mistress is like a body without a soul. Mr.
Vainlove, shall I be bound for your good behaviour for the future?

VAIN. Now must I pretend ignorance equal to hers, of what she
knows as well as I. [Aside.] Men are apt to offend ('tis true)
where they find most goodness to forgive. But, madam, I hope I
shall prove of a temper not to abuse mercy by committing new
offences.

ARAM. So cold! [Aside.]

BELIN. I have broke the ice for you, Mr. Vainlove, and so I leave
you. Come, Mr. Sharper, you and I will take a turn, and laugh at
the vulgar--both the great vulgar and the small. O Gad! I have a
great passion for Cowley. Don't you admire him?

SHARP. Oh, madam! he was our English Horace.

BELIN. Ah so fine! so extremely fine! So everything in the world
that I like--O Lord, walk this way--I see a couple; I'll give you
their history.


SCENE XII.


ARAMINTA, VAINLOVE.

VAIN. I find, madam, the formality of the law must be observed,
though the penalty of it be dispensed with, and an offender must
plead to his arraignment, though he has his pardon in his pocket.

ARAM. I'm amazed! This insolence exceeds t'other; whoever has
encouraged you to this assurance, presuming upon the easiness of my
temper, has much deceived you, and so you shall find.

VAIN. Hey day! Which way now? Here's fine doubling. [Aside.]

ARAM. Base man! Was it not enough to affront me with your saucy
passion?

VAIN. You have given that passion a much kinder epithet than
saucy, in another place.

ARAM. Another place! Some villainous design to blast my honour.
But though thou hadst all the treachery and malice of thy sex, thou
canst not lay a blemish on my fame. No, I have not erred in one
favourable thought of mankind. How time might have deceived me in
you, I know not; my opinion was but young, and your early baseness
has prevented its growing to a wrong belief. Unworthy and
ungrateful! be gone, and never see me more.

VAIN. Did I dream? or do I dream? Shall I believe my eyes, or
ears? The vision is here still. Your passion, madam, will admit
of no farther reasoning; but here's a silent witness of your
acquaintance. [Takes our the letter, and offers it: she snatches
it, and throws it away.]

ARAM. There's poison in everything you touch. Blisters will
follow -

VAIN. That tongue, which denies what the hands have done.

ARAM. Still mystically senseless and impudent; I find I must leave
the place.

VAIN. No, madam, I'm gone. She knows her name's to it, which she
will be unwilling to expose to the censure of the first finder.

ARAM. Woman's obstinacy made me blind to what woman's curiosity
now tempts me to see. [Takes up the letter.]


SCENE XIII.


BELINDA, SHARPER.

BELIN. Nay, we have spared nobody, I swear. Mr. Sharper, you're a
pure man; where did you get this excellent talent of railing?

SHARP. Faith, madam, the talent was born with me:--I confess I
have taken care to improve it, to qualify me for the society of
ladies.

BELIN. Nay, sure, railing is the best qualification in a woman's
man.


SCENE XIV.


[To them] FOOTMAN.

SHARP. The second best, indeed, I think.

BELIN. How now, Pace? Where's my cousin?

FOOT. She's not very well, madam, and has sent to know if your
ladyship would have the coach come again for you?

BELIN. O Lord, no, I'll go along with her. Come, Mr. Sharper.


SCENE XV.


SCENE: A chamber in Fondlewife's house.

LAETITIA and BELLMOUR, his cloak, hat, etc., lying loose about the
chamber.

BELL. Here's nobody, nor no noise--'twas nothing but your fears.

LAET. I durst have sworn I had heard my monster's voice. I swear
I was heartily frightened; feel how my heart beats.

BELL. 'Tis an alarm to love--come in again, and let us -

FOND. [Without.] Cocky, Cocky, where are you, Cocky? I'm come
home.

LAET. Ah! There he is. Make haste, gather up your things.

FOND. Cocky, Cocky, open the door.

BELL. Pox choke him, would his horns were in his throat. My
patch, my patch. [Looking about, and gathering up his things.]

LAET. My jewel, art thou there?--No matter for your patch.--You
s'an't tum in, Nykin--run into my chamber, quickly, quickly--You
s'an't tum in.

FOND. Nay, prithee, dear, i'feck I'm in haste.

LAET. Then I'll let you in. [Opens the door.]


SCENE XVI.


LAETITIA, FONDLEWIFE, SIR JOSEPH.

FOND. Kiss, dear--I met the master of the ship by the way, and I
must have my papers of accounts out of your cabinet.

LAET. Oh, I'm undone! [Aside.]

SIR JO. Pray, first let me have fifty pound, good Alderman, for
I'm in haste.

FOND. A hundred has already been paid by your order. Fifty? I
have the sum ready in gold in my closet.


SCENE XVII.


LAETITIA, SIR JOSEPH.

SIR JO. Agad, it's a curious, fine, pretty rogue; I'll speak to
her.--Pray, Madam, what news d'ye hear?

LAET. Sir, I seldom stir abroad. [Walks about in disorder.]

SIR JO. I wonder at that, Madam, for 'tis most curious fine
weather.

LAET. Methinks 't has been very ill weather.

SIR JO. As you say, madam, 'tis pretty bad weather, and has been
so a great while.


SCENE XVIII.


[To them] FONDLEWIFE.

FOND. Here are fifty pieces in this purse, Sir Joseph; if you will
tarry a moment, till I fetch my papers, I'll wait upon you down-
stairs.

LAET. Ruined, past redemption! what shall I do--ha! this fool may
be of use. (Aside.) [As FONDLEWIFE is going into the chamber, she
runs to SIR JOSEPH, almost pushes him down, and cries out.] Stand
off, rude ruffian. Help me, my dear. O bless me! Why will you
leave me alone with such a Satyr?

FOND. Bless us! What's the matter? What's the matter?

LAET. Your back was no sooner turned, but like a lion he came open
mouthed upon me, and would have ravished a kiss from me by main
force.

SIR JO. O Lord! Oh, terrible! Ha, ha, ha. Is your wife mad,
Alderman?

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