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When Heav'n was nam'd, they loos'd their hold again, Then sprung

she forth, they follow'd her amain. Not far behind, a knight of swarthy face, High on a coal-black steed pursu'd the chace; With flashing flames his ardent eyes were fill'd, And in his hand a naked sword he held : He cheer'd the dogs to follow her who fled, And vow'd revenge on her devoted head.

As Theodore was born of noble kind,
The brutal action rous'd his manly mind;
Mov'd with unworthy usage of the maid,
He, tho' unarm'd, resolv'd to give her aid.
A saplin pine he wrench'd from out the ground,
The readiest weapon that his fury found.
Thus furnish'd for offence, he cross'd the way
Betwixt the graceless villain and his prey. [afar,
The knight came thund'ring on, but, from
Thus, in imperious tone, forbad the war:
Cease, Theodore, to proffer vain relief,
Nor stop the vengeance of so just a grief;
But give me leave to seise my destin'd prey,
And let eternal justice take the
way:

I but revenge my fate, disdain'd, betray'd,
And suff 'ring death for this ungrateful maid.
He said, at once dismounting from the steed;
For now the hell-hounds, with superior speed,
Had reach'd the dame, and, fast'ning on her side,
The ground with issuing streams of purple dy'd;
Stood Theodore surpris'd in deadly fright,
With chatt'ring teeth, and bristling hair upright;
Yet arm'd with inborn worth, Whate'er, said he,
Thou art, who know'st me better than I thee,
Or prove thy rightful cause, or be defied :
The spectre, fiercely staring, thus reply'd.

Know, Theodore, thy ancestry I claim,
And Guido Cavalcanti was my name :
One common sire our fathers did beget,
My name and story some remember yet:
Thee, then a boy, within my arms I laid,
When for my sins I lov'd this baughty maid;
Not less ador'd in life, nor serv'd by me,
Than proud Honoria now is lov'd by thee.
What did I not her stubborn heart to gain?
But all my vows are answer'd with disdain:
She scorn'd my sorrows, and despis'd my pain.
Long time I dragg'd my days in fruitless care
Then, loathing life, and plung'd in deep despair,
To finish my unhappy life, I fell

On this sharp sword,and now anı damn'd in hell. Short was her joy, for soon the insulting maid By heaven's decree in this cold grave was laid: And as in unrepented sin she dy'd,

Doom'd to the same bad place is punish'd for her pride:

Because she deem'd I well deserv'd to die,
And made a inerit of her cruelty.

There, then, we met; both try'd, and both were

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No more a lover, but a mortal foe,
I seek her life (for love is none below):
As often as my dogs with better speed
Arrest her flight, is she to death decreed:
Then with this fatal sword, on which I dy'd
I pierce her open back, or tender side,
And tear that harden'd heart from out her
breast,

Which, with her entrails, makes my hungry hounds a feast.

}

Nor lies she long, but, as the fates ordain,
Springs up to life, and, fresh to second pain,
Is sav'd to-day, to-morrow to be slain.
This, vers'd in death, th' infernal k night re-
lates,

And then for proof fulfill'd the common fates;
Her heart and bowels thro' her back he drew,
And fed the hounds that help'd him to pursue.
Stern look'd the fiend, as frustrate of his will,
Not half suffic'd, and greedy yet to kill.
And now the soul, expiring through the wound,
Had left the body breathless on the ground,
When thus the grisly spectre spoke again:
Behold the fruit of ill-rewarded pain:
As many months as I sustain'd her hate,
So many years is she condemn'd by fate
To daily death; and ev'ry several place,
Conscious of her disdain and my disgrace,
Must witness her just punishment; and be
A scene of triumph and revenge to ne!
As in this grove I took the last farewell,
As on this very spot of earth I fell,
As Friday saw me die, so she my prey
Becomes ev'n here, on this revolving day.

Thus while he spoke the virgin from the
ground

Upstarted fresh, already clos'd the wound,
And, unconcern'd for all she felt before,
Precipitates her flight along the shore:
The hell-hounds, as ungorg'd with flesh and
blood,

Pursue their prey, and seek their wonted food:
The fiend remounts his courser, mends his pace,
And all the vision vanish'd from the place.
Long stood the noble youth oppress'd withawe,'
And stupid at the wond'rous things he saw,
Surpassing common faith, transgressing na-

ture's law:

}

He would have been asleep, and wish'd to wake,
But dreams, he knew, nolong impression make,
Though strong at first; if vision, to what end,
But such as must his future state portend?
His love the damsel, and himself the fiend.
But yet, reflecting that it could not be
From heaven, which cannot impious acts decree,
Resolv'd within himself to shun the snare,
Which hell for his destruction did prepare;
And as his better genius should direct,
From an ill cause to draw a good effect.
Inspir'd from heaven he homeward took his

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They came, and, usual salutations paid,
With words premeditated, thus he said ;
What you have often counsell'd, to remove
My vain pursuit of unregarded love;
By thrift my sinking fortune to repair,
Tho' late, yet is at last became my care:
My heart shall be my own; my vast expence
Reduc'd to bounds, by timely providence;
This only I require; invite for me
Honoria, with her father's family,

Her friends and mine; the cause I shall display,
On Friday next; for that's the appointed day.
Well pleas'd were all his friends, the task was
light,

The father, mother, daughter, they invite;
Hardly the dame was drawn to this repast;
But yet resolv'd, because it was the last.
The day was come, the guests invited came,
And with the rest, th' inexorable damne :
A feast prepar'd with riotous expence,
Much cost, more care, and most magnificence,
The place ordain'd was in that haunted grove,
Where the revenging ghost pursu'd his love.
The tables in a proud pavillion spread,
With flow'rs below, and tissue overhead:
The rest in rank, Honoria chief in place,
Was artfully contriv'd to set her face
To front the thicket, and behold the chace.
The feast was serv'd, the time so well forecast,
That just when the dessert and fruits were plac'd,
The fiend's aların began; the hollow sound
Sung in the leaves, the forest shook around,
Air blacken'd, roll'd the thunder, groan'd
the ground.

Nor long before the loud laments arise Of one distress'd, and mastiffs' mingled cries; And first the dame came rushing thro'thewood,And next the famish'd hounds that sought their food, fin blood.

And grip'd her flanks, and oft essay'd their jaws
Last came the felon, on his sable steed,
Arm'd with his naked sword, and urg'd his dogs
to speed.

She ran, and cry'd, her flight directly bent
(A guest unbidden) to the fatal tent,
The scene of death, and place design'd for

nishment.

pu-S

Loud was the noise, aghast was ever guest,
The women shriek'd, the men forsook the feast;
The hounds at nearer distance hoarsely bay'd ;-
The hunter close puru'd the visionary maid.
She rent the heav'n with loud laments, implor-
ring aid.

The gallants, to protect the lady's right,
Their falchions brandish'd at the grisly spright;
High on his stirrups he provok'd the fight,
Then on the crowd he cast a furious look,
And wither'd all their strength before he spoke
Back, on your lives; let be, said he, my prey,
And let my vengeance take the destin'd way:
Vain are your arms, and vainer your defence,
Against th' eternal doom of Providence :
Mine is th' ungrateful maid by heaven design'd,
Mercy shewould notgive, nor mercyshall she find.

:

At this the former tale again he told,
With thund'ring tone, and dreadful to behold:
Sunk were the hearts with horror of the crime,
Nor needed to be warn'd a second time,
But bore each other back: some knew the face,
And all had heard the much lamented case
Of him who fell for love, and this the fatal place.
And now th' infernal minister advanc'd,
Seis'd the due victim and with fury lanc'd
Her back, and piercing through her inmost heart,
Drew backward, as before, th' offending part.
The reeking entrails next he tore away,
And to his meagre mastiffs made a prey.
The pale assistants on each other star'd,
With gaping mouths for issuing words prepar'd;
The still-born sounds upon the palate hung,
And dy'd imperfect on the falt ring tongue.
The fright was gen'ral; but the female band
(A helpless train) in more confusion stand;
With horror shudd'ring, on a heap they run,
Sick at the sight of hateful justice done;
For conscience rung the alarm, and made the
case their own.

So spread upon a lake, with upward eye,
A plump of fowl behold their foe on high;
They close their trembling troop, and all attend
On whom the sowsing eagle will descend.

But most the proud Honoria fear'd the event,
And thought to her alone the vision sent.
Her guilt presents to her distracted mind
Heaven's justice, Theodore's revengeful kind,
And the same fate to the same sin assigif'd:
Already sees herself the mouster's prey,
And feels her heart and entrails torn away.
'Twas a mute scene of sorrow, mix'd with fear;
Still on the table lay th' unfinish'd cheer:
The knight and hungry mastiff's stood around,
The mangled dame lay breathless on the ground,
When on a sudden, re-inspir'd with breath,
Again she rose, again to suffer death;
Nor staid the hell-hounds nor the hunter staid,
| But follow'd, as before, the flying maid:
Th' avenger took from earth th'avenging sword,
And mounting light as air his sable steed he
spurr'd:

The clouds dispell'd, the sky resum'd the fight,
And nature stood recover'd of her fright.
But fear, the last of ills, remain'd behind,
And horror heavy sat on ev'ry mind.
Nor Theodore encourag'd more the feast,
But sternly look'd as hatching in his breast
Some deep designs; which when Honoria view'd,
The fresh impulse her former fright renew'd;
She thought herself the trembling dame who fled,
And him the grisly ghost that spurr'd th’infernal
steed:

The more dismay'd, forwhen the guests withdrew

Their courteous host, saluting all the crew, Regardless pass'd her o'er; nor grac'd wit

kind'adieu.

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Home as they went, the sad discourse renew'd'
Of the relentless dame to death pursu'd,
And of the sight obscene so lately view'd.
None durst arraign the righteous doom she bare,
Ev'n they who pity'd most, yet blau'd her more:
The parallel they needed not to nanic,
But in the dead they damn'd the living dame.
At ev'ry little noise she look'd behind,
For still the knight was present to her mind :
And anxious oft she started on the way,

With faults confess'd commission'd her to go,
If pity yet had place, and reconcile her foe:
The welcome message made, was soon receiv'd;
"Twas to be wish'd,and hop'd, but scarce believ'd;
Fate seem'd a fair occasion to present;
He knew the sex, and fear'd she might repent,
Should he delay the moment of consent.
There yet remain'd to gain her friends (a care
The modesty of inaidens well might spare :)
But she with such a zeal the cause embrac'd,.

And thought the horseman-ghost came thun-(As women, where they will are all in haste)

d'ring for his prey.

Return'd, she took her bed with little rest,

But in soft slumbers dreamt the fun'ral feast :
Awak'd, she turn'd her side, and slept again;
The same black vapors mounted in her brain,
And the same dreams return'd with double
pain.

Now fore'd to wake, because afraid to sleep,
Her blood all fever'd, with a furious leap,

She sprang from bed, distracted in her mind,
And fear'd at ev'ry step, a twitching spright be-

hind.

Darkling and desperate, with stagg'ring pace,
Of death afraid, and conscious of disgrace:

The father, mother, and the kin beside,
Were overborne by fury of the tide;
With full consent of all she chang'd her state;
Resistless in her love, as in her hate.
By her example warn'd, the rest beware;
More easy, less imperious, were the fair;
And that one hunting, which the devil design'd
For one fair female, lost him half the kind.

Churchill.

§ 34. The Resciad.
Roscius deceas'd, each high aspiring play'r
Push'd all his int'rest for the vacant chair.
The buskin'd heroes of the mimic stage

Fear, pride, remorse, at once her heart assail'd,No longer whine in love, and rant in rage;
Pride put remorse to flight, but fear prevail'd.
Friday, the fatal day, when next it came,
Her soul forethought the fiend would change his

game,

And her pursue, or Theodore be slain,
And two ghosts join their packs to hunt her o'er
the plain.

The monarch quits his throne, and condescends
Humbly to court the favor of his friends;
For pity's sake tells undeserv'd mishaps,
And, their applause to gain, recounts his claps.
Thus the victorious chiefs of antient Rome,
To win the mob, a suppliant's form assume,
In pompous strain fight o'er th'extinguish'd war,
And show where honor bled in ev'ry scar.
But though bare merit might in Rome appear
The strongest plea for favor, 'tis not here;
We form our judgement in another way;
And they will best succeed, who best can pay
Those, who would gain the votes of British tribes,
Must add to force of merit force of bribes.

What can an actor give? in ev'ry age
Cash hath been rudely banish'd from the stage;
Monarchs themselves, to grief of ev'ry play'r
Appear as often as their image there:

Pour seas of wine, and mountains raise of meat.
Wine! they could bribe you with the world as

soon,

This dreadful image so possess'd her mind,
That, desperate any succour else to find,
She ceas'd all farther hope; and now began
To make reflection on th' unhappy man.
Rich, brave, and young, who pastexpressionlow'd,
Proof to disdain, and not to be remov'd:
Of all the men respected and adinir'd,
Of all the dames, except herself, desir'd:
Why not of her? preferr'd above the rest,
By him with knightly deeds, and open love
profess'd?
[dress'd.
So had another been, where he his vows ad-They can't, like candidate for other seat,
This quell'd her pride, yet other doubts remain'd,
That, once disdaining, she might be disdain'd.
The fear was just, but greater fear prevail'd,
Fear of her life by hellish hounds assail'd :
He took a low'ring leave; but who can tell
What outward hate might inward love conceal?
Her sex's arts she knew; and why not, then,
Might deep dissembling have a place in men?
Here hope began to dawn; resolv'd to try,
She fix'd on this her utmost remedy:
Death was behind, but hard it was to die.
"Twas time enough at last on death to call,
The precipice in sight: a shrub was all, [fall.
That kindly stood betwixt to break the fatal
One maid she had, belov'd above the rest:
Secure of her, the secret she confess'd;
And now the cheerful light her fears dispell'd,"
She with no winding turns the truth conceal'd,
But put the woman off, and stood reveal'd :

more,

And of roast beef, they only know the tune:
But what they have they give; could Clive do
[four}
Though for each million he had brought home
Shuter keeps open house at Southwark fair,
And hopes the friends of humor will be there;
In Sinithfield, Yates prepares the rival treat
For those who laughter love instead of meat;
Foote, at Old House, for even Foote will be,
In self-conceit, an actor, bribes with tea;
Which Wilkinson at second-hand receives,
And at the New, pours water on the leaves,

The town divided, each runs sev'ral ways,
As passion, humor, int'rest, party sways.
Things of no moment, eolor of the hair,
Shape of a leg, complexion brown or fair,

A dress

A dress well chosen, or a patch misplac'd,
Conciliate favor, or create distaste.

From galleries loud peals of laughter roll,
And thunder Shruter's praises — he's so droll,
Embox'd, the ladies must have something smart,
Palmer! Oh Palmer tops the janty part.
Seated in pit, the dwarf, with aching eyes,
Looks up, and vows that Barry's out of size;
Whilst to six feet the vig'rous stripling grown,
Declares that Garrick is another Coan.

When place of judgement is by whim supplied,
And our opinions have their rise in pride;
When, in discoursing on each mimic elf,
We praise and censure with an eye to self;
All must meet friends, and Ackman bids as fair
In such a court, as Garrick, for the chair.

Twice did those blockheads startle at my name'
And foul rejection gave me up to shame.
To law and lawyers then I bade adieu,
And plans of far more lib'ral note pursue.
Who will may be a judge-my kindling breast
Burns for thatchair which Roscius once possess'd.
Here give your votes, your int'rest here exert,
And let success for once attend desert."

With sleek appearance, and with ambling pace,
And, type of vacant head, with vacant face,
The Proteus Hill put in his modest plea,—

Let favor speak for others, worth for me.”—
For who, like him, his various powers could call
Into so many shapes, and shine in all?
Who could so nobly grace the motley list,
Actor, inspector, doctor, botanist?
Knows any one so well-sure no one knows,—
At once to play, prescribe, compound, compose?
Who can-But Woodward came,-Hill slipp'd

away,

Melting, like ghosts, before the rising day.

*With that low cunning, which in fools sup And amply too, the place of being wise, [plies, Which Nature, kind, indulgent parent, gave To qualify the blockhead for a knave; With that smooth falschood, whose appearance charms,

At length agreed, all squabbles to decide. By some one judge the cause was to be tried; But this their squabbles did afresh renew, Who should be judge in such a trial:-Who? For Johnson some, but Johnson, it was fear'd, Would be too grave; and Sterne too gay appear'd:] Others for Francklin voted; but 'twas known, He sicken'd at all triumphs but his own : For Colman many, but the peevish tongue Of prudent Age found out that he was young: For Murphy some few pilf'ring wits declar'd, Whilst Folly clapp'd her hands, and Wisdom And reason of each wholesome doubt disarms, star'd. [womb, Which to the lowest depths of guile descends, To mischief train'd, e'en from his mother's By vilest means pursues the vilest ends, Grown old in fraud, tho' yet in manhood's bloom, Wears friendship's mask for purposes of spite, Adopting arts, by which gay villains rise, Fawns in the day, and butchers in the night, And reach the heights which honest men despise; With that malignant envy, which turns pale, Mute at the bar, and in the senate loud, And sickens, even if a friend prevail, Dull 'mongst the dullest, proudest of the proud; Which merit and success pursues with hate, A pert, prim prater of the northern race, And damns the worth it cannot imitate; Guilt in his heart, and famine in his face, With the cold caution of a coward's spleen, Stood forth-and thrice he wav'd his lily hand- Which fears not guilt but always seeks a screen; And thrice he twirl'd his eye-thrice strok'd his Which keeps this maxim ever in her view→ [aim, What's basely done, should be done safely too; "At Friendship's call (thus oft with trait'rous With that dull, rooted, callous impudence, Men void of faith usurp faith's sacred name) Which dead to shame, and ev'ry nicer sense, At Friendship's call I come, by Murphy sent, Ne'er blush'd, unless, in spreading Vice's snares, Who thus by me develops his intent. She blunder'd on some virtue unawares; With all these blessings, which we seldom find Lavish'd by Nature on one happy mind, A motley figure, of the Fribble tribe, Which heart can scarce conceive, or pen describe, Caine simp'ring on; to ascertain whose sex Twelve savage impanell'd matrons would perplex. Nor male, nor female; neither, and yet both; Of neuter gender, tho' of Irish growth; A six-foot suckling, mincing in its gait; Affected, peevish, prim, and delicate; Fearful it seem'd, tho' of athletic make, Lest brutal breezes should too roughly shake Its tender form, and savage motion spread, O'er its pale cheeks the horrid manly red. Much did it talk, in its own pretty phrase,

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But lest, transfus'd, the spirit should be lost,
That spirit which in storins of Rhet'ric tost,
Bounces about, and flies like bottled beer,
In his own words his own intentions hear.
"Thanks to my friends-But to vile fortunes
born,

No robes of fur these shoulders must adorn.
Vain your applause, no aid from thence I draw;
Vain all my wit, for what is wit in law?
Twice (curs'd remembrance!) twice I strove to
gain

Admittance 'mongst the law-instructed train,
Who, in the Temple and Gray's Inn, prepare
For clients' wretched feet the legal snare:
Dead to those arts, which polish and refine,
Deaf to all worth, because that worth was mine,Of genius and of taste, of play'rs and plays;

Much

*This severe character was intended for Mr. Fitzpatrick, a person who had rendered himself re markable by his activity in the playhouse riots of 1763, relative to the taking half prices. He was the hero of Garrick's Fribbleriad.

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Much too of writings, which itself had wrote,
Of special merit, tho' of little note;
For Fate, in a strange humor, had decreed
Toat what it wrote, none but itself should read;
Much too it chatter'd of dramatic laws,
Misjudging critics, and misplac'd applause;
Then, with a self complacent jutting air,
It smil'd, it smirk'd, it wriggled to the chair;
And, with an awkward briskness pot its own,
Looking around, and perking on the throne,
Triumphant seem'd, when that strange savage
dame,

Known but to few, or only known by name,
Plain Common Sense appear'd, by Nature there
Appointed, with plain truth, to guard the chair.
The pageant saw, and blasted with her frown,
To its first state of nothing melted down.
Nor shall the Muse (for even there the pride
Of this vain nothing shall be mortified)
Nor shall the Muse(should fate ordainherrhymes,
Fond, pleasing thought! to live in after-times)
With such a trifler's name her pages blot;
Known be the character, the thing forgot;
Let it, to disappoint each future aim,
Live without sex, and die without a name!
Cold-blooded critics, by enervate sires
Scarce hammer'd out, when nature's feeble fires
Glimmer'd their last; whose sluggish blood, half
froze,
[glows
Creeps lab'ring thro' the reins; whose heart ne'er
With fancy-kindled heat; a servile race,
Who in mere want of fault, all merit place;
Who blind obedience pay to antient schools,
Bigots to Greece, and slaves to musty rules;
With solemn consequence declar'd that none
Could judge that cause but Sophocles alone.
Dupes to their fancied excellence, the crowd,
Obsequious to the sacred dictate, bow'd. [forth,
When, from amidst the throng, a youth stood
Unknown his person, not unknown his worth;
His look bespoke applause, alone he stood,
Alone he stemim'd the mighty critic flood.
He talk'd of antients, as the man became
Who priz'd their own, but envy'd not their fame;
With noble rev'rence spoke of Greece and Rome,
And scorn'd to tear the laurel from the tomb.
"But more than just to other countries grown,
Must we turn base apostates to our own?
Where do these words of Greeceaud Romeexcel,
That England may not please the ear as well?
What mighty magic's in the place or air,
That all perfection needs must centre there?
In states, let strangers blindly be preferr'd;
la state of letters, merit should be heard.
Genius is of no country, her pure ray
Spreads all abroad, as gen'ral as the day;
Foe to restraint, from place to place she flies,
And may hereafter e'en in Holland rise.
May not (to give a pleasing fancy scope
And cheer a patriot heart with patriot hope)
May no some great extensive Genius raise
The name of Britain 'bove Athenian praise;

And, whilst brave thirst of fame his bosom warms Make England great in letters as in arms? There may-there hath and Shakspeare's Muse aspires

Beyond the reach of Greece: with native fires
Mounting aloft, he wings his daring flight,
While Sophocles below stands trembling at his
height.

Why should we then abroad for judges roam,
When abler judges we may find at home?
Happy in tragic and in comic pow'rs,
Have we not Shakspeare? Is not Jonson ours?
For them, your nat'ral judges, Britons, vote;
They'll judge like Britons, who like Britons
[sway,
He said, and conquer'd-Sense resum❜d her
And disappointed pedants stalk'd away.
Shakspeare and Jouson, with deserv'd'applause,
Joint judges were ordain'd to try the cause.
Mean time the stranger ev'ry voice employ'd,
To ask or tell his name-Who is it? - Lloyd.

wrote.

Thus, when the aged friends of Job stood mute, And tamely prudent, gave up the dispute, Elihu, with the decent warmth of youth, Boldly stood forth the advocate of truth ; Confuted falsehood, and disabled pride, Whilst baffled age stood snarling at his side.

The day of trial's fix'd, nor any fear Lest day of trial should be put off here. Causes but seldom for delay can call In courts where forms are few, fees none at all. The morning came, nor find I that the sun, As he on other great events hath done, Put on a brighter robe than what he wore To go his journey in the day before..

Full in the centre of a spacious plain, On plan entirely new, where nothing vain, Nothing magnificent appear'd, but Art With decent modesty perform'd her part, Rose a tribunal: from no other court It borrow'd ornament, or sought support: No jurics here were pack'd to kill or clear, No bribes were taken, nor oaths broken here; No gownsmen, partial to a client's cause, To their own purpose turn'd the pliant laws. Each Judge was true and steady to his trust, As Mansfield wise, and as old Foster* just.

In the first seat, in robes of various dyes, A noble wildness flashing from his eyes, Sat Shakspeare-in one hand a wand he bore, For mighty wonders fain'd in days of yore; The other held a globe, which to his will Obedient turn'd, and own'd the master's skill: Things of the noblest kind his genius drew, And look'd thro' nature at a single view; A loose he gave to his unbounded soul; And taught new lands to rise, new scos 10 roll; Call'd into being scenes unknown before, And, passing nature's bounds, was something

more.

Next Jonson sat, in antient learning train'd, His rigid judgement fancy's flights restrain d,

• Sir Michael Foster, one of the Judges of the King's Bench.

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