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He laid upon a bed of pillows, burgundy, gold, pine green, with ten-inch frills that draped to the floor. Incense and silk filled the air, and the songs of maidens whom he had yet to touch. He grasped a grape and ate it. Some juice dribbled upon his lip and was wiped away.

“Oh, that my life would not be wasted so! Would that God give me a good work, that I would do it!”

And he ate another grape.