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Enter Thersites.

Ther. A wonder! Achil. What?

And I myself see not the bottom of it. [Exeunt Achilles and Patroclus. Ther. 'Would the fountain of your mind were

Ther. Ajax goes up and down the field, asking clear again, that I might water an ass at it! I had for himself. rather be a tick in a sheep, than such a valiant ignorance. [Exit

Achil. How so?

Ther. He must fight singly to-morrow with Hector; and is so prophetically proud of an heroical cudgelling, that he raves in saying nothing.

Achil. How can that be?

Ther. Why, he stalks up and down like a peacock, a stride and a stand: ruminates, like a hostess, that hath no arithmetic but her brain to set down her reckoning: bites his lip with a politic regard, as who should say-there were wit in this head, an 'twould out; and so there is; but it lies as coldly in him as fire in a flint, which will not show without knocking. The man's undone for ever; for if Hector break not his neck i'the combat, he'll break it himself in vain-glory. He knows not me: I said, Good-morrow, Ajax; and he replies, Thanks, Agamemnon. What think you of this man, that takes me for the general? He is grown a very land-fish, languageless, a monster. A plague of opinion! a man may wear it on both sides, like a leather jerkin.

Achil. Thou must be my ambassador to him, Thersites.

Ther. Who, I? why, he'll answer nobody; he professes not answering; speaking is for beggars; he wears his tongue in his arms. I will put on his presence; let Patroclus make demands to me, you shall see the pageant of Ajax.

Acnil. To him, Patroclus: Tell him,-I humbly desire the valiant Ajax, to invite the most valorous Hector to come unarmed to my tent; and to procure safe conduct for his person, of the magnanimous, and most illustrious, six-or-seven-times-honoured captain-general of the Grecian army, Agamemnon. Do this.

Patr. Jove bless great Ajax.
Ther. Humph!

Patr. I come from the worthy Achilles,—
Ther. Ha!

Pat. Who most humbly desires you, to
Hector to his tent!-

Ther. Humph!

invite

Patr. And to procure safe conduct from Aga

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Patr. Your answer, sir.

Ther. Fare you well, with all my heart. Achil. Why, but he is not in his tune, is he? Ther. No, but he's out o'tune thus. What music will be in him when Hector has knocked out his brains, I know not: But, I am sure, none; unless the fiddler Apollo get his sinews to make catlings' on.

Achil. Come, thou shalt bear a letter to him straight.

Ther. Let me bear another to his horse; for that's the more capable2 creature. Achil. My mind is troubled, like a fountain stirr'd;

1) Lute-strings made of catgut. (2) Intelligent.

ACT IV.

SCENE I.-Troy. A street. Enter, at one side, Eneas and Servant, with a torch; at the other, Paris, Deiphobus, Antenor, Diomedes, and oth ers, with torches.

Par. See, ho! who's that there? Dei. "Tis the lord Æneas. Ene. Is the prince there in person ?Had I so go good occasion to lie long, As you, prince Paris, nothing but heavenly business Should rob my bed-mate of my company. Dio. That's my mind too.-Good morrow, lord Æneas.

Par. A valiant Greek, Æneas; take his hand : Witness the process of your speech, wherein You told-how Diomed, a whole week by days, Did haunt you in the field.

Ene.

Health to you, valiant sir, During all question3 of the gentle truce: But when I meet you arm'd, as black defiance, As heart can think, or courage execute.

Dio. The one and other Diomed embraces. Our bloods are now in calm; and, so long, health: But when contention and occasion meet, By Jove, I'll play the hunter for thy life, With all my force, pursuit, and policy.

Ene. And thou shalt hunt a lion, that will fly With his face backward.-In humane gentleness, Welcome to Troy! now, by Anchises' life, Welcome, indeed! By Venus' hand I swear, No man alive can love, in such a sort, The thing he means to kill, more excellently. Dio. We sympathize:-Jove, let Æneas live, If to my sword his Pate be not the glory, A thousand complete courses of the sun! But, in mine emulous honour, let him die, With every joint a wound; and that to-morrow! Ene. We know each other well.

Dio. We do; and long to know each other

worse.

Par. This is the most despiteful gentle greeting, The noblest hateful love, that e'er I heard of.What business, lord, so early?

Ene. I was sent for to the king; but why, I know

not.

Par. His purpose meets you; 'Twas to bring this Greek

To Calchas' house; and there to render him,
For the enfreed Antenor, the fair Cressid :
Let's have your company; or, if you please,
Haste there before us: I constantly do think
(Or, rather, call my thought a certain knowledge,)
My brother Troilus lodges there to-night,
Rouse him, and give him note of our approach,
With the whole quality wherefore: I fear,
We shall be much unwelcome.
Ene.
That I assure you;
Troilus had rather Troy were borne to Greece,
Than Cressid borne from Troy.
Par.
There is no help;
The bitter disposition of the time
Will have it so. On, lord; we'll follow you

(3) Conversation.

ne. Good morrow, all.

Exit. -Here, you maid! where's my cousin Cressid? Cres. Go hang yourself, you naughty mocking uncle!

Par. And tell me, noble Diomed; 'faith, tell me true,

Even in the soul of sound good-fellowship,-
Who, in your thoughts, merits fair Helen best,
Myself, or Menelaus?

Dio.

Both alike:

He merits well to have her, that doth seek her
(Not making any scruple of her soilure,)
With such a hell of pain, and world of charge;
And you as well to keep her, that defend her
(Not palating the taste of her dishonour,)
With such a costly loss of wealth and friends:
He, like a puling cuckold, would drink up
The lees and dregs of a flat tamed piece;
You, like a lecher, out of whorish loins
Are pleas'd to breed out your inheritors:
Both merits pois'd, each weighs nor less nor more;
But he as he, the heavier for a whore.

Par. You are too bitter to your countrywoman.
Dio. She's bitter to her country: Hear me,
Paris,-

For every false drop in her bawdy veins

A Grecian's life hath sunk; for every scruple
Of her contaminated carrion weight,

A Trojan hath been slain: since she could speak,
She hath not given so many good words breath,
As for her Greeks and Trojans suffer'd death.

Par. Fair Diomed, you do as chapmen do, Dispraise the thing that you desire to buy: But we in silence hold this virtue well,We'll not commend what we intend to sell. Here lies our way. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-The same. Court before the house of Pandarus. Enter Troilus and Cressida. Tro. Dear, trouble not yourself; the morn is cold. Cres. Then, sweet my lord, I'll call mine uncle down;

He shall unbolt the gates.

Tro.

Trouble him not;
To bed, to bed: Sleep kill those pretty eyes,
And give as soft attachment to thy senses,
As infants' empty of all thought!
Cres.

Tro. Pr'ythee now, to bed.
Cres.

Good morrow then.

Are you a-weary of me? Tro. O Cressida! but that the busy day, Wak'd by the lark, hath rous'd the ribald' crows, And dreaming night will hide our joys no longer," I would not from thee.

Cres.

Night hath been too brief. Tro. Beshrew the witch! with venomous wights she stays,

As tediously as hell; but flies the grasps of love,
With wings more momentary-swift than thought.
You will catch cold, and curse me.
Cres.

You men will never tarry.

Pr'ythee, tarry;—

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Cres. A pestilence on him! now will he be mocking:

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Pan. Ha, ha! Alas, poor wretch! a poor capocchia !-hast not slept to-night? would he not, a naughty man, let it sleep? a bugbear take him! [Knocking.

Cres. Did I not tell you?-'Would he were knock'd o'the head!

Who's that at door? good uncle, go and see.-
My lord, come you again into my chamber:
You smile, and mock me, as if I meant naughtily.
Tro. Ha, ha!

Cres. Come, you are deceiv'd, I think of no such thing.[Knocking. How earnestly they knock!-pray you, come in; I would not for half Troy have you seen here. [Exeunt Troilus and Cressida. Pan. [Going to the door.] Who's there? what's the matter? will you beat down the door? How now? what's the matter?

Enter Æneas.

Ene. Good morrow, lord, good morrow.

Pan. Who's there? my lord Eneas? By my troth, I knew you not; what news with you so early? Ene. Is not prince Troilus here!

Pan. Here! what should he do here? Ene. Come, he is here, my lord, do not deny him; It doth import him much, to speak with me.

I'll be sworn :-For my own part, I came in late: Pan. Is he here, say you? 'tis more than I know,

What should he do here?

ne. Who!-nay, then :Come, come, you'll do him wrong ere you are 'ware: You'll be so true to him, to be false to him: Do not you know of him, yet go fetch him hither; Go.

As Pandarus is going out, enter Troilus.

Tro. How now? what's the matter?

ne. My lord, I scarce have leisure to salute you, My matter is so rash: There is at hand Paris your brother, and Deiphobus, The Grecian Diomed, and our Antenor Deliver'd to us; and for him forthwith, Ere the first sacrifice, within this hour, We must give up to Diomedes' hand The lady Cressida.

Tro.

Is it so concluded?

Ene. By Priam, and the general state of Troy : They are at hand, and ready to effect it.

I

Tro. How my achievements mock me!

will go meet them: and, my lord Encas, We met by chance; you did not find me here. Ene. Good, good, my lord; the secrets of na

ture

Have not more gift in taciturnity.

[Exeunt Troilus and Æneas. Pan. Is't possible? no sooner got, but lost? The devil take Antenor! the young prince will go mad. Pan. How now, how now? how go maiden- A plague upon Antenor: I would, they had broke'

I shall have such a life,

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Enter Cressida.

Cres. O Troilus! Troilus. [Embracing him. Part. What a pair of spectacles is here! Let Cres. How now? What is the matter? Who me embrace too: O heart!-as the goodly saying

was here?

Pan. Ah, ah'

Cres. Why sigh you so profoundly? where's
my lord gone?

Tell me, sweet uncle, what's the matter?
Pan. 'Would I were as deep under the earth as
I am above!

Cres. O the gods!-what's the matter?
Pan. Pr'ythee, get thee in; 'Would thou hadst
ne'er been born! I knew, thou would'st be his
death:-0 poor gentleman!-A plague upon An-
tenor?

Cres. Good uncle, I beseech you on my knees, I beseech you, what's the matter?

Pan. Thou must be gone, wench, thou must be gone; thou art changed for Antenor: thou must to thy father, and be gone from Troilus; 'twill be his death; 'twill be his bane; he cannot bear it.

Cres. O you immortal gods!-I will not go.
Pan. Thou must.

Cres. I will not, uncle: I have forgot my father;
I know no touch of consanguinity:
No kin, no love, no blood, no soul so near me,
As the sweet Troilus.-O you gods divine!
Make Cressid's name the very crown of falsehood,
If ever she leave Troilus! Time, force, and death,
Do to this body what extremes you can;
But the strong base and building of my love
Is as the very centre of the earth,

Drawing all things to it.-I'll go in, and weep ;-
Pan. Do, do.

Cres. Tear my bright hair, and scratch my praised

cheeks,

is,

o heart, o heavy heart,
Why sigh'st thou without breaking?

where he answers again,

Because thou canst not ease thy smart,

By friendship, nor by speaking.
There never was a truer rhyme. Let us cast away
nothing, for we may live to have need of such a
verse; we see it, we see it.-How now, lambs ?
That the blest gods-as angry with my fancy,
Tro. Cressid, I love thee in so strain'd a purity,
More bright in zeal than the devotion which
Cold lips blow to their deities,-take thee from me
Cres. Have the gods envy?

Pan. Ay, ay, ay, ay; 'tis too plain a case.
Cres. And is it true, that I must go from Troy?
Tro. A hateful truth.

Cres.

What, and from Troilus too!
Tro. From Troy, and Troilus.
Cres.
Is it possible?
Tro. And suddenly; where injury of chance
All time of pause, rudely beguiles our lips
Puts back leave-taking, justles roughly by
Of all rejoindure, forcibly prevents

Our lock'd embrasures, strangles our dear vows
Even in the birth of our own labouring breath:
We two, that with so many thousand sighs
Did buy each other, must poorly sell ourselves
With the rude brevity and discharge of one.
Injurious time now, with robber's haste,
Crams his rich thievery up, he knows not how
As many farewells as be stars in heaven,
With distinct breath and consign'd kisses to their.
He fumbles up into a loose adieu;
And scants us with a single famish'd kiss,
Deipho-Distasted with the salt of broken tears.

Crack my clear voice with sobs, and break my heart
With sounding Troilus. I will not go from Troy.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.-The same. Before Pandarus'
house. Enter Paris, Troilus, Eneas,
bus, Antenor, and Diomedes.

Par. It is great morning; and the hour prefix'd
Of her delivery to this valiant Greek
Comes fast upon :-Good my brother Troilus,
Tell you the lady what she is to do,

And haste her to the purpose.

Tro.

Ene. [Within.] My lord! is the lady ready?
Tro. Hark! you are call'd: Some say, the
Genius so

Cries, Come! to him that instantly must die.-
Bid them have patience; she shall come anon.
Pan. Where are my tears? rain, to lay this wind,

Walk in to her house; or my heart will be blown up by the root!

I'll bring her to the Grecian presently:
And to his hand when I deliver her,
Think it an altar; and thy brother Troilus

A priest, there offering to it his own heart. [Exit.

Par. I know what 'tis to love;

And 'would, as I shall pity, I could help!-
Please you, walk in, my lords.

[Exeunt.

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The grief is fine, full, perfect, that I taste,

And violenteth in a sense as strong

[Exit Pandarus.

Cres. I must then to the Greeks?
Tro.
No remedy.
When shall we see again?
Cres. A woful Cressid 'mongst the merry Greeks!

Tro. Hear me, my love: Be thou but true of

heart,

Cres. I true! how now? what wicked deem is

this?

Tro. Nay, we must use expostulation kindly,
For it is parting from us :

I speak not, be thou true, as fearing thee;
For I will throw my glove to keath himself,
That there's no maculations in thy heart:

As that which causeth it: How can I moderate it? But be thon true, say I, to fashion in

If I could temporize with my affection,
Or brew it to a weak and colder palate,
The like allayment could I give my grief:
My love admits no qualifying dross:

No more my grief, in such a precious loss.

Enter Troilus.

Pan. Here, here, here he comes.-Ah, sweet ducks!

(1) Sense or feeling of relationship. (2) Sealed. |

VOL. II.

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To give thee nightly visitation.
But yet, be true.
Cres.

O heavens !-be true again?
Tro. Hear why I speak it, love;
The Grecian youths are full of quality;'

I'll answer to my lust: And know you, lord,
I'll nothing do on charge: To her own worth
She shall be priz'd; but that you say-be't so,
I'll speak it in my spirit and honour,-no

Tro. Come, to the port.-I'll tell thee, Diomed,

They're loving, well compos'd, with gifts of nature This brave shall oft make thee to hide thy head.—

flowing,

And swelling o'er with arts and exercise;

How novelty may move, and parts with person,
Alas, a kind of godly jealously

(Which I beseech you, call a virtuous sin,)
Makes me afeard.

Cres.

O heavens! you love me not.
Tro. Die I a villain then!
In this I do not call your faith in question,
So mainly as my merit: I cannot sing,
Nor heel the high lavolt, nor sweeten talk,
Nor play at subtle games; fair virtues all,
To which the Grecians are most prompt and

nant:

Lady, give me your hand; and, as we walk,
To our own selves bend we our needful talk.
[Exeunt Troilus, Cressida, and Diomed
[Trumpet heare

Par. Hark! Hector's trumpet.

Jne.
How have we spent this morning :
The prince must think me tardy and remiss,
That swore to ride before him to the field.

Par. 'Tis Troilus' fault: Come, come, to field
with him.

Dei. Let us make ready straight.

Ene. Yea, with a bridegroom's fresh alacrity,
preg-Let us address to tend on Hector's heels •
The glory of our Troy doth this day lie,
On his fair worth and single chivalry.

But I can tell, that in each grace of these
There lurl's a still and dumb-discoursive devil,
That tempts most cunningly: but be not tempted.
Cres. Do you think I will?

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With truth and plainness I do wear mine bare.
Fear not my truth; the moral of my wit
Is-plain, and true,-there's all the reach of it.

Enter Æneas, Paris, Antenor, Deiphobus, and
Diomedes.

Welcome, sir Diomed! here is the lady,
Which for Antenor we deliver you:
At the port, lord, I'll give her to thy hand;
And, by the way, possess thee what she is.
Entreat her fair; and, by my soul, fair Greek,
If e'er thou stand at mercy of my sword,
Name Cressid, and thy life shall be as safe
As Priam is in Ilion.

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You shall be mistress, and command him wholly.
Tro. Grecian, thou dost not use me courteously,
To shame the zeal of my petition to thee,
In praising her: I tell thee, lord of Greece,
She is as far high-soaring o'er thy praises,
As thou unworthy to be call'd her servant.

I charge thee, use her well, even for my charge;
For, by the dreadful Pluto, if thou dost not,
Though the great bulk Achilles be thy guard,
I'll cut thy throat.

Dio.
O, be not mov'd, prince Troilus:
Let me be privileg'd by my place, and message,
To be a speaker free; when I am hence,

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Lists set out.
SCENE Y.-The Grecian camp.
Enter Ajax armed; Agamemnon, Achilles, Pa-
troclus, Menelaus, Ulysses, Nestor, and others.
Agam. Here art thou in appointment fresh and
fair,

Anticipating time with starting courage.
Give with thy trumpet a loud note to Troy,
Thou dreadful Ajax; that the apalled air
May pierce the head of the great combatant,
And hale him hither.

Ajax.
Thou, trumpet, there's my purse.
Now crack thy lungs, and split thy brazen pipe:
Blow, villain, till thy sphered bias cheek
Out-swell the colic of puff'd Aquilon:

Come, stretch thy chest, and let thy eyes spout

blood;

Thou blow'st for Hector.

Ulyss. No truniper answers.
Achil.

[Trumpet sounds

'Tis but early days.

Agam. Is not yon Diomed, with Calchas'

daughter?

He rises on the toe: that spirit of his
Ulyss. 'Tis he, I ken the manner of his gait ;
In aspiration lifts him from the earth,

Enter Diomed, with Cressida.
Agam. Is this the lady Cressid?
Dio.
Agam. Most dearly welcome to the Greeks,
sweet lady.

Even sne.

Nest. Our general doth salute you with a kiss
Ulyss. Yet is the kindness but particular;

"Twere better she were kiss'd in general.
Nest. And very courtly counsel: I'll begin.—
So much for Nestor.

Achil. I'll take that winter from your lips, fair
lady:

Achilles bids you welcome.

Men. I had good argument for kissing once.
Patr. But that's no argument for kissing now:
For thus popp'd Paris in his hardiment;
And parted thus you and your argument.
Ulyss. O deadly gall and theme of all of
scorns!

For wnich we lose our heads, to gild his horns.
Patr. The first was Menelaus' kiss ;-this, mine:
Patroclus kisses you.
Men.

O, this is trim!
Patr. Paris, and 1, kiss evermore for him.
Men. I'll have my kiss, sir :-Lady, by your leave.

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Ulyss.
Cres.

I do desire it.

Why, beg then.
Ulyss. Why then for Venus' sake, give me a kiss,
When Helen is a maid again, and his.
Cres. I am your debtor, claim it when 'tis due.
Ulyss. Never's my day, and then a kiss of you.
Dio. Lady, a word:-I'll bring you to your father.
[Diomed leads out Cressida.
Nest. A woman of quick sense.
Ulyss.
Fie, fie upon her!
There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip,
Nay, her foot speaks; her wanton spirits look out
At every joint and motive' of her body.

O, these encounters, so glib of tongue,
That give a coasting welcome ere it comes,
And wide unclasp the tables of their thoughts
To every ticklish reader! set them down
For sluttish spoils of opportunity,
And daughters of the game.
All. The Trojans' trumpet.
Agam.

[Trumpet within.

Yonder comes the troop.

Enter Hector armed; Æneas, Troilus, and other
Trojans, with Attendants.

Ene. Hail, all the state of Greece! what shall

be done

To him that victory commands? Or do you purpose,
A victor shall be known? will you, the knights
Shali to the edge of all extremity

Re-enter Diomed.

Ağam. Here is sir Diomed:-Go, gentle knight,
Stand by our Ajax: as you and lord Æneas
Consent upon the order of their fight,
So be it; either to the uttermost,
Or else a breath: the combatants being kin,
Half stints their strife before their strokes begin.
[Ajax and Hector enter the lists.
Ulyss. They are oppos'd already.
Agam. What Trojan is that same that looks so
heavy?

Ulyss. The youngest son of Priam, a true knight;
Not yet mature, yet matchless; firm of word;
Speaking in deeds, and deedless in his tongue;
Not soon provok'd, nor, being provok'd, soon calm'd⚫
His heart and hand both open, and both free;
For what he has, he gives, what thinks, he shows;
Yet gives he not till judgment guide his bounty,
Nor dignifies an impair thought with breath:
Manly as Hector, but more dangerous;
For Hector, in his blaze of wrath, subscribes
To tender objects; but he, in heat of action,
Is more vindictive than jealous love:
They call him Troilus; and on him erect
A second hope, as fairly built as Hector.
Thus says neas; one that knows the youth
Even to his inches, and with private soul,
Did in great Ilion thus translate" him to me.

[Alarum. Hector and Ajax fight.

Agam. They are in action.
Nest. Now, Ajax, hold thine own!
Tro.

Awake thee!

Agam. His blows are well dispos'd:-there,

Hector, thou sleep'st;

[Trumpets cease.

Ajax! Dio. You must no more. Ene. Princes, enough, so please you. Ajax. I am not warm yet, let us fight again. Dio. As Hector pleases. Hect. Why then, will I no more :Thou art, great lord, my father's sister's son, A cousin-german to great Priam's seed; The obligation of our blood forbids A gory emulation 'twixt us twain: Were thy commixion Greek and Trojan so, That thou could'st sav- -This hand is Grecian all, And this is Trojan; the sinews of this leg All Greek, and this all Troy; my mother's blood Runs on the dexter cheek, and this sinister10 Bounds-in my father's; by Jove's multipotent, Thou should'st not bear from me a Greekish member Wherein my sword had not impressure made of our rank feud: But the just gods gainsay, That any drop thou borrow'st from thy mother, My sacred aunt, should by my mortal sword Be drain'd! Let me embrace thee, Ajax : By him that thunders, thou hast lusty arms; Hector would have them fall upon him thus: Ene. Therefore Achilles: But, whate'er, know Cousin, all honour to thee!

Pursue each other; or shall they be divided
By any voice or order of the field?
Hector bade ask.

Agam. Which way would Hector have it?
ne. He cares not, he'll obey conditions.
Achil. 'Tis done like Hector; but securely done,
A little proudly, and great deal misprizing
The knight oppos'd.
If not Achilles, sir,

Ene.
What is your name?

Achil

this;

If not Achilles, nothing.

In the extremity of great and little,

Valour and pride excel themselves in Hector;
The one almost as infinite as all,

The other blank as nothing. Weigh him well,
And that, which looks like pride, is courtesy.
This Ajax is half made of Hector's blood:
In love whereof, half Hector stays at home;
Half heart, half hand, half Hector comes to seek
This blended knight, half Trojan, and half Greek.
Achil. A maiden battle then?-0, I perceive you.

(1) Motion. (2) Breathing, exercise. (3) Stops.
(4) No boaster. (5) Unsuitable to his character.
(6) Yields, gives way.

Ajax.
I thank thee, Hector.
Thou art too gentle, and too free a man:
I came to kill thee, cousin, and bear hence
A great addition" earned in thy death.
Hect. Not Neoptolemus 12 so mirable
(On whose bright crest Fame with her loud'st O yes
Cries, This is he,) could promise to himself
A thought of added honour torn from Hector.
Ene. There is expectance here from both the

sides,
What further you will do.

(7) Explain his character.
(9) Right.
(10) Left,
(11) Title. (12) Achilles.

(8) Bloody.

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