Chapter XXII: Appendix (5)

_Jacke._ Well, master content your selfe, for if my divination bee 685
not out, that shall bee spent at the next inne or alehouse we come
too; for maister, I knowe you are passing hungrie; therefore Ile goe
before and provide dinner untill that you come; no doubt but youle
come faire and softly after.

_Eum._ I, go before, Ile follow thee. 690

_Jack._ But doo you heare, maister, doo you know my name?

_Eum._ No, I promise thee, not yet.

_Jack._ Why, I am Jack. _Exeunt_ Jack.

_Eum._ Jack, why be it so, then.

_Enter the Hostes and_ JACK, _setting meate on the table, and Fidlers came[1120] to playi_, EUMENIDES _walketh up and downe, and will eate no meate_.

_Host._ How say you, sir, doo you please to sit downe? 695

_Eum._ Hostes, I thanke you, I have no great stomack.

_Host._ Pray, sir, what is the reason your maister is so strange?
Doth not this meate please him?

_Jack._ Yes, hostes, but it is my maisters fashion to pay before
hee eates, therefore a reckoning, good hostesse. 700

_Host._ Marry shall you, sir, presently. _Exit._

_Eum._ Why, Jack, what doost thou meane, thou knowest I have
not any money: therefore, sweete Jack, tell me what shall I doo.

_Jack._ Well, maister, looke in your pursse.[1121]

_Eum._ Why, faith, it is a follie, for I have no money. 705

_Jack._ Why, looke you, maister, doo so much for me.

_Eum._ Alas, Jack, my pursse is full of money.

_Jack._ 'Alas,' maister,--does that worde belong to this accident?
Why, me thinkes I should have seene you cast away your cloake,
and in a bravado daunced a galliard round about the chamber; why, 710
maister, your man can teach you more wit than this; come, hostis
cheere up my maister.

_Hostis._ You are heartily welcome: and if it please you to eate
of a fat capon, a fairer birde, a finer birde, a sweeter birde, a
crisper birde, a neater birde, your worship never eate off. 715

_Eum._ Thankes, my fine eloquent hostesse.

_Jack._ But heare you, maister, one worde by the way; are you
content I shall be halfes in all you get in your journey?

_Eum._ I am, Jack, here is my hand.

_Jack._ Enough, maister, I aske no more. 720

_Eum._ Come, hostesse, receive your money, and I thanke you
for my good entertainment.

_Host._ You are heartily welcome, sir.

_Eum._ Come, Jack, whether go we now?

_Jack._ Mary, maister, to the conjurers presently. 725

_Eu._ Content, Jack: Hostis, farewell. _Exe. om._

_Enter_ COREBUS _and_ ZELANTO[1122] _the foule wench, to the Well for
water_.

_Coreb._ Come, my ducke, come. I have now got a wife; thou art
faire, art thou not?[1123]

_Zelan._ My Corebus, the fairest alive, make no doubt of that.

_Cor._ Come, wench, are we almost at the wel? 730

_Zela._ I, Corebus, we are almost at the Well now; Ile go fetch
some water: sit downe while I dip my pitcher in.

_Voyce._ Gently dip: but not too deepe;
For feare you make the goulde_n_ beard to weepe.

_A head comes up with eares of corne, and she combes them in her lap._

Faire maiden, white and red, 735
Combe me smoothe, and stroke my head,
And thou shall have some cockell bread.
Gently dippe, but not too deepe,
For feare thou make the goulden beard to weep.
Faire maide, white and redde, 740
Combe me smooth, and stroke my head;
And every haire a sheave shall be,
And every sheave a goulden tree.

_A head[1124] comes up full of golde, she combes it into her lap._

_Zelan._ Oh see, Corebus, I have combd a great deale of golde into my
lap, and a great deale of corne. 745

_Coreb._ Well said, wench; now we shall have just[1125] enough. God
send us coiners to coine our golde. But come, shall we go home, sweet
heart?

_Zelan._ Nay, come, Corebus, I will lead you.

_Coreb._ So, Corebus, things have well hit, 750
Thou hast gotten wealth to mend thy wit. _Exit._

_Enter_ JACK _and the wandring knight_.

_Jack._ Come away, maister, come.

_Eum._ Go along, Jack, Ile follow thee.
Jack, they say it is good to go crosse-legged, and say his prayers
backward:[1126] how saiest thou? 755

_Jack._ Tut, never feare, maister; let me alone, heere sit you still,
speake not a word. And because you shall not be intised with his
inchanting speeches, with this same wooll Ile stop your eares: and
so, maister, sit still, for I must to the Conjurer. _Exit_ Jack.

_Enter the Conjurer to the wandring knight._

_Sa._ How now, what man art thou that sits so sad? 760
Why dost thou gaze upon these stately trees,
Without the leave and will of Sacrapant?
What, not a word but mum?
Then, Sacrapant, thou art betraide.

_Enter_ JACK _invisible, and taketh off_ SACRAPANTS _wreath from his
head, and his sword out of his hand_.

_Sac._ What hand invades the head of Sacrapant? 765
What hatefull fury doth envy my happy state?
Then, Sacrapant, these are thy latest dayes.
Alas, my vaines are numd, my sinews shrinke,
My bloud is pearst,[1127] my breath fleeting away,
And now my timelesse date is come to end: 770
He in whose life his actions[1128] hath beene so foule,
Now in his death to hell descends his soule.

_He dyeth._

_Jack._ Oh, sir, are you gon? Now I hope we shall have some
other coile. Now, maister, how like you this? the Conjurer hee is
dead, and vowes never to trouble us more. Now get you to your 775
faire Lady, and see what you can doo with her. Alas, he heareth me
not all this while; but I will helpe that.

_He pulles the wooll out of his eares._

_Eum._ How now, Jack, what news?

_Jack._ Heere, maister, take this sword and dig with it, at the
foote of this hill. 780

_He digs and spies a light._

_Eum._ How now, Jack, what is this?

_Jack._ Maister, without this the Conjurer could do nothing, and
so long as this light lasts, so long doth his arte indure, and this
being out, then doth his arte decay.

_Eum._ Why then, Jack, I will soone put out this light. 785

_Jack._ I, maister, how?

_Eum._ Why with a stone Ile breake the glasse, and then blowe
it out.

_Jack._ No, maister, you may as soone breake the smiths anfill, as
this little vyoll; nor the biggest blast that ever Boreas blew,
cannot blowe out this little light; but she that is neither 790
maide,[1129] wife, nor widowe. Maister, winde this horne; and see
what will happen.

_He windes the horne._

_Heere enters_ VENELIA _and breakes the glasse, and blowes out the
light, and goeth in againe_.

_Jack._ So, maister, how like you this? This is she that ranne madding
in the woods, his betrothed love that keepes the crosse; and nowe, 795
this light being out, all are restored to their former libertie. And
now, maister, to the Lady that you have so long looked for.

_He draweth a curten, and there_ DELIA _sitteth a sleepe_.

_Eum._ God speed, faire maide sitting alone: there is once.
God speed, faire maide; there is twise: 800
God speed, faire maide, that is thrise.

_Delia._ Not so, good sir, for you are by.

_Jack._ Enough, maister, she hath spoke; now I will leave her with
you.

_Eum._ Thou fairest flower of these westerne parts, 805
Whose beautie so reflecteth in my sight,
As doth a christall mirror in the sonne:
For thy sweet sake I have crost the frosen Rhine,[1130]
Leaving faire Po, I saild up Danuby,
As farre as Saba, whose inhansing streames 810
Cuts twixt the Tartars and the Russians,--
These have I crost for thee, faire Delia:
Then grant me that which I have sude for long.

_Del._ Thou gentle knight, whose fortune is so good,
To finde me out, and set my brothers free, 815
My faith, my heart, my hand, I give to thee.

_Eum._ Thankes, gentle madame: but heere comes Jack; thanke
him, for he is the best friend that we have.

_Enter_ JACK _with a head in his hand_.

_Eum._ How now, Jack, what hast thou there?

_Jack._ Mary, maister, the head of the conjurer. 820

_Eum._ Why, Jack, that is impossible; he was a young man.

_Jack._ Ah, maister, so he deceived them that beheld him: but hee
was a miserable, old, and crooked man; though to each mans eye h[e
see]med young and fresh. For, maister, this Conjurer tooke the shape
of the olde man that kept the crosse: and that olde man was in the 825
likenesse of the Conjurer.[1131] But nowe, maister, winde your horne.
_He windes his horne._

_Enter_ VENELIA, _the two Brothers, and he that was at the Crosse_.

_Eu._ Welcome, Erestus, welcome, faire Venelia,[1132]
Welcome, Thelea, and Kalepha[1133] both!
Now have I her that I so long have sought, 830
So saith faire Delia, if we have your consent.

_1. Bro._ Valiant Eumenides, thou well deservest
To have our favours: so let us rejoyce,
That by thy meanes we are at libertie.
Heere may we joy each in others sight, 835
And this faire Lady have her wandring knight.

_Jack._ So, maister, nowe yee thinke you have done: but I must have a
saying to you. You know you and I were partners, I to have halfe in
all you got.

_Eum._ Why, so thou shalt, Jack. 840

_Jack._ Why, then, maister draw your sworde, part your Lady, let mee
have halfe of her presently.

_Eumenid._ Why, I hope, Jack, thou doost but jest; I promist thee
halfe I got, but not halfe my Lady.

_Jack._ But what else, maister? have you not gotten her? Therefore 845
devide her straight, for I will have halfe; there is no remedie.

_Eumen._ Well, ere I will falsifie my worde unto my friend, take her
all; heere Jack, Ile give her thee.

_Jacke._ Nay, neither more nor lesse, maister, but even just halfe.

_Eum._ Before I will falsifie my faith unto my friend, I will 850
divide hir; Jacke, thou shalt have halfe.

_1. Brother._ Bee not so cruell unto our sister, gentle knight.

_2. Brother._ O spare faire Delia; shee deserves no death.

_Eum._ Content your selves; my word is past to him; therefore
prepare thy selfe, Delya, for thou must die. 855

_Delya._ Then, farewell, worlde; adew Eumenides.

_He offers to strike and_ JACKE _staies him_.

_Jacke._ Stay, master; it is sufficient I have tride your constancie.
Do you now remember since you paid for the burying of a poore
fellow?

_Eum._ I, very well, Jacke. 860

_Jacke._ Then, master, thanke that good deed for this good turne, and
so God be with you all.

JACKE _leapes downe in the ground_.

_Eum._ Jacke, what, art thou gone?
Then farewell, Jacke.
Come, brothers and my beauteous Delya, 865
Erestus, and thy deare Venelia:
We will to Thessalie with joyfull hearts.

_All._ Agreed, we follow thee and Delya.

_Exeunt omnes._[1134]

_Fant._ What, Gammer, a sleepe?

_Old wom._ By the Mas, sonne, tis almost day, and my windowes 870
shut[1135] at the cocks crow.

_Frol._ Doo you heare, Gammer, mee thinkes this Jacke bore a great
sway amongst them.

_Old wom._ O, man, this was the ghost of the poore man, that they kept
such a coyle to burie, & that makes him to help the wandring 875
knight so much. But come, let us in: we will have a cup of ale and a
tost this morning and so depart.[1136]

_Fant._ Then you have made an end of your tale, Gammer?

_Old wom._ Yes, faith. When this was done, I tooke a peece of
bread and cheese, and came my way, and so shall you have, too, 880
before you goe, to your breakefast.

FINIS.

Printed at London by _John Danter_, for _Raph
Hancocke_, and _John Hardie_, and are to
be solde at the shop over against
Saint Giles his Church without
Criplegate.
1595.

FOOTNOTES:

[1018] A mistake for Frolic.

[1019] _Alamort_, mortally sick; and then, dispirited.

[1020] "A gay, reckless fellow."

[1021] Below 'Neptune,' Sig. A iii.

[1022] B. refers to Ebbsworth, _Roxburghe Ballads_, IV. 365, 468. See also Nash, _Four Letters Confuted_ (Grosart, II. 190), who says of Harvey's "barefoote rimes" that "they would have trowld off bravely to the tune of _O man in desperation_, and, like _Marenzos_ Madrigals, the mourneful note naturally have affected the miserable Dittie."

[1023] Chappell gives the song in _Popular Music of the Olden Time_, p. 216. _Three Merry Men_ is quoted in _Westward Hoe_, and in Barry's _Ram Alley_ (sung by Smallshanks: see note, Hazlitt-Dodsley, X. 298), as well as in _Twelfth Night_; and it is parodied by the musical cook in _The Bloody Brother_. Chappell is somewhat daring when he takes these words from the _Old Wives' Tale_ as the original; lines 3 and 4 look like a parody.

[1024] Dy. points out the pun in 'wooden' (= mad).

[1025] Long wide breeches or trousers; Dy. See _Looking-Glass for London and England_, near end: "This right slop is my pantry, behold a manchet [_Draws it out_]" ...

[1026] A bit of nonsense like the talk of Macbeth's porter. The speech is a sort of parody on the appeal of wandering knights or travellers in romances, and Clunch, with his 'territories,' may take the place of enchanter, giant, or the like.

[1027] This use of the third person is common in dramas of the time. See Ward, _Old English Drama, Select Plays_, etc., Introd., p. xi., notes. So in Greene: "Which Brandamart (_i.e._ I)" ...; "For Sacripant must have Angelica." It served to identify the actor.

[1028] They are now supposed to be at the cottage.

[1029] For fear of ...

[1030] A crab-apple. The pulp was mixed with ale, 'lamb's wool.'

[1031] Collier gave Dyce the following quotation from _Martin's Month's Minde_: "leaving the ancient game of England (_Trumpe_), where every coate and sute are sorted in their degree, are running to _Ruffe_, where the greatest sorte of the sute carrieth away the game."

[1032] The familiar _motif_ of the contented peasant as entertainer of royalty or what not.

[1033] According to the _Jests_ (Bullen, II. 314), George Peele had no skill in music, and must have been a conspicuous exception; witness the well-known statement of Chappell, _Popular Music_, p. 98. The barber kept "lute or cittern" in his shop for the amusement of waiting customers; and England had been a land of song from Cædmon's time down. The "man in the street" was expected to know how to join in a part song. The rural song, such as they sing here, was a great favorite with the dramatists.

[1034] Chopcherry: "a game in which one tries to catch a suspended cherry with the teeth; bob-cherry." ... New Engl. Dict.

[1035] A version of _Childe Rowland?_

[1036] Peele was probably of a Devonshire family.

[1037] A Dogberrian touch, evidently beloved by the pit, and a fine makeweight to those pompous experiments with word and phrase which delighted the serious playgoer.

[1038] Below 'extempore,' Sig. B.

[1039] See _Critical Essay_ for the folk-tales in question.

[1040] handsome.

[1041] 'he' keeps (frequents, lives), _i.e._ the young man. Omission of subject is common in the ballads.

[1042] The conjurer.

[1043] See the _Critical Essay_ for this "play within the play."

[1044] The princes, of course, talk in metre when the "high style" is needed, but in familiar prose with Erestus (= "Senex"). The repetitions in this blank-verse are characteristic.

[1045] B. omits. Dy. proposes to omit 'faire.' Neither omission is necessary.

[1046] Reminds one of nursery tales with bits of rhyme,--the _cante-fable_ of folk-lore.

[1047] So Milton's famous "grey hooded Even, Like a sad votarist in palmer's weed" ...

[1048] Below 'gold,' Sig. B ii.

[1049] Dy. assumes that "something ... has dropt out"; but this is not necessary. Erestus, who says below that he 'speaks in riddles,' knows the errand of the brothers, and asks the question abruptly. He plays the part of Merlin in _Childe Rowland_.

[1050] The spell is important, solemn, and is therefore repeated. No particular tale of The White Bear of England's Wood is known, but similar cases of transformation are plentiful.

[1051] Dy. prints ''chanting'; needlessly.

[1052] Below 'mend,' Sig. B iii.

[1053] B. notes that "St. Luke's Day (18th October) was the day of Horn Fair; and St. Luke was jocularly regarded as the patron saint of cuckolds. St. Andrew was supposed to bring good luck to lovers." ...

[1054] The reference is to the tale preserved in several versions, and known as "The Three Heads of the Well," Jacobs, _English Fairy Tales_, p. 222. "The Well of the World's End," p. 215, however, has the incident of filling a sieve.

[1055] So "God ye good night, and twenty, sir!" In Middleton's _Trick to Catch the Old One_--"A thousand farewells." Compare the well-known forms of greeting, as "Grüss' mir mein Liebchen zehntausend mal!" or the elaborate message at the opening of the ballad _Childe Maurice_.

[1056] See Appendix _B_ on this Song.

[1057] See Appendix _A_.

[1058] The 'Booby' is later called 'Corebus' or 'Chorebus.' See Harvey, _The Trimming of Thomas Nashe_, Grosart, III. 29: "Thou mayest be cald the very Chorœbus of our time, of whom the proverbe was sayde, more foole than Chorœbus: who was a seely ideot, but yet had the name of a wise man." ...

[1059] Mr. Fleay thinks this is a pun upon that eternal theme of satire for Harvey's enemies, the rope-maker's trade of his father. "The name," Mr. Fleay says, "for the stock of Huanebango are adapted from Plautus, Polymachæroplacidus (from _Pseudulus_), Pyrgopolinices (from _Miles Gloriosus_), in shapes which inevitably suggest English puns indicating Harvey's rope-making extraction, Polly-make-a-rope-lass, and Perg-up-a-line-O...." Mr. Fleay is bold.

[1060] A difficult passage. Dy. thinks the stock is a sword,--Corebus "has run away from the Parish, and become a sort of knight-errant." Dr. Nicholson: "He has started and they may catch" (if they can) and as a vagabond put him in the stocks. B. makes the clown plume himself on his finery. He points with pride to his feather; and he is equally proud of his fashionable "long stock" (_i.e._ the stocking fastened high above the knee). This gives better sense than the second explanation; Corebus asserts a sort of equality with Huanebango.

[1061] The successful guessing of riddles wins a bride, fortune, liberty, what not, in many a folk-tale.

[1062] Below 'the,' Sig. C.

[1063] Enter _Erestus_.

[1064] care for.

[1065] plenty. Corebus quotes the stilted talk of Huanebango.

[1066] This gift of the cake reminds one of a similar _motif_ in the tale of _The Red Ettin_, Jacobs, p. 135.

[1067] though times are hard.

[1068] sings.

[1069] Below 'up,' Sig. C ii.

[1070] These tricks of magic are the staple of tales and chapbooks about conjurers, and make a braver showing in plays like _Doctor Faustus_ and _Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay._ See the latter play in this volume, and Mr. Ward's introduction to his edition of the two dramas.

[1071] Later editions omit. The formula is less uncanny than usual; but the two cocks have grim associations. The dark-red cock of Scandinavian myth belonged to the underworld. See _The Wife of Usher's Well_, and R. Köhler in the _Germania_, XI. 85 ff.

[1072] The local hits are to be noted: praise for roast beef of England, wine of France, and girding at Spain, at brewers,--one thinks of Falstaff's complaint about the lime in his sack,--friars, and usurers.

[1073] Below 'begon,' Sig. C iii.

[1074] B. prints: 'heaven [n]or hell shall rescue her from me.'

[1075] Did this Echo suggest the song in _Comus_?

[1076] The "Life-Index," so called, of popular tales, connected with the equally popular _motif_ of the "Thankful Dead."

[1077] Erestus.

[1078] Misprint for 'Corebus.'

[1079] Dogberry's distortion of words is about as old as English comedy.

[1080] Q. _assure_.

[1081] As above:--a gay, reckless fellow.

[1082] According to Sir Walter Scott "the very latest allusion to the institution of brotherhood in arms" is in the ballad of _Bewick and Grahame_, "sworn brethren" as they are, each "faith and troth" to the other.

[1083] That's settled once for all.--Bullen.

[1084] Recent editions make the Sexton's speech end here, and put the rest in the stage directions.

[1085] Below 'the,' Sig. D.

[1086] Open the argument from my side (with the aid of the pike-staff).--Bullen.

[1087] Recent eds. [_Gives money_].

[1088] on.

[1089] harvesters.

[1090] See Appendix _B_.

[1091] Below 'men,' Sig. D ii.

[1092] B. points out that Corebus enters a moment later.

[1093] "The 'fee-fi-fo-fum' formula is common to all English stories of giants and ogres; it also occurs in Peele's play and in _King Lear_.... Messrs. Jones and Krorf have some remarks on it in their 'Magyar Tales,' pp. 340-341; so has Mr. Lang in his 'Perrault,' p. lxiii, where he traces it to the furies in Æschylus' _Eumenides_."--Jacobs, _Eng. Fairy Tales_, p. 243.

[1094] Recent eds.--_Enter_ Sacrapant _the Conjurer and_ Two Furies.

[1095] Recent eds.--Huanebango _is carried out by the_ Two Furies.

[1096] Recent eds.--_Strikes_ Corebus _blind_.

[1097] goad.

[1098] In this and like cases the editors restore a tolerable metre by different printing. Thus 'Here hard' may be taken as part of the preceding line.

[1099] Dr. Nicholson would read 'name' to no advantage. Sacrapant says she has forgotten her name, but has not forgotten as much as she ought to forget. The phrase is awkward, but is perhaps more "intelligible" than Mr. Bullen allows.

[1100] Below 'to,' Sig. D iii.

[1101] Dy. prints 'Well done!'

[1102] To the popular tale, here plainly drawn upon, Peele has added an amusing feature which seems to be his own invention. He provides the deaf Huanebango with a scolding wife, while the blind Corebus takes her ugly sister.

[1103] As much as "uncomely," "ugly," as shown by the countless passages in Elizabethan literature, and the connotation of the opposite, "fair." Dyce quotes the same phrase,--"though I am blacke, I am not the Divell ..." from Greene's, _Quip for an Upstart Courtier_.

[1104] _In The Three Heads of the Well_, "a golden head came up singing:--

"'Wash me and comb me,
And lay me down softly.
And lay me on a bank to dry,
That I may look pretty
When somebody passes by.'"

[1105] _Sc._ beard.

[1106] The upshot of much investigation seems to be that the phrase to have cockell-bread means to get a lover or a husband.

[1107] So in Hartmann's _Iwein_, a knight pours water from a certain well upon a stone near by; a terrible thunderstorm is the immediate result. A similar act may bring the milder rain for one's crops (Grimm, _Mythologie_, p. 494).

[1108] Harvey had an indifferent ear for verse, and here, perhaps,--since the hexameters follow so hard upon,--is a neat way of stating the fact.

[1109] Both Stanyhurst and Harvey were favorites for this sort of ridicule. The hexameters of the former are described admirably by Nash, and, of course, are parodied here. Huff, Ruff, and Snuff were characters in the play of _King Cambyses_. Cf. too Harvey in "Green's Memoriall or certain funerall sonnets" (Son. vi):--

"I wott not what these cutting Huffe-snuffes meane,
Of alehouse daggers I have little skill...."

[1110] Dy. points out that this is an actual line in Harvey's _Encomium Lauri_.

[1111] Below 'rattle,' Sig. E.

[1112] Used by Chaucer to describe the "hunting of the letter," in his day still a normal rule of verse, particularly in the north of England (Prologue to the "Persone's Tale"):--

"But trusteth wel, I am a suthern man,
I can not geste rum, ram, ruf, by letter...."

Professor Skeat (_Notes to C.T._, p. 446) thinks Peele has Chaucer in mind, and shows that the latter probably borrowed the words "from some French source."

[1113] 'Ka'=quoth he.--'Wilshaw'? [Qy.: Will ich ha(ve)? _Cf._ l. 648. _Gen. Ed._]

[1114] Lob's pound, is B. notes, was a phrase of the day for "the thraldom of the hen-pecked married man."

[1115] It is hardly necessary to correct this into 'thy.'

[1116] As a ghost, of course.

[1117] Below 'runne,' Sig. E ii.

[1118] The "foot-page" of the ballads.

[1119] These rhyming scraps remind one constantly of the _cante-fable_, of the formula-jingles in popular tales.

[1120] Probably a misprint for 'come.'

[1121] Below 'pursse,' Sig. E iii.

[1122] Celanto.

[1123] He is blind.

[1124] In the tale there are three heads.

[1125] Dyce's copy read 'tost.' Mr. P. A. Daniel: "Qy.: 'Toast'?"

[1126] Milton, _Comus_, 817: "backward mutters of dissevering power."

[1127] Mr. P. A. Daniel would read 'iced.'

[1128] Dy., 'Acts.'

[1129] Below 'maide,' Sig. F.

[1130] Dy. notes that this and the three following lines are taken almost verbatim from Greene's _Orlando Furioso_.

[1131] It is not necessary to adopt Mr. Daniel's emendation.

[1132] Below 'Venelia,' Sig. F ii.

[1133] Calypha.

[1134] That is, all the actors of the play within the play. Below '_Omnes_,' Sig. F iii.

[1135] Q., _shuts_.

[1136] Part.