here, like his Rose, into pot-pourri? Our tu- | positively will not write a gilt Autograph, telary Countess, too, is shyer in this matter authorizing his Eminence to make the bargain; than we ever saw her. Nevertheless, by in- but writes rather, in a petting manner, that the tense skilful cross-questioning, he has extorted thing is of no consequence, and can be given somewhat; sees partly how it stands. The up! Thus must the poor Countess dash to Queen's Majesty will have her Necklace, (for and fro, like a weaver's shuttle, between Paris when, in such case, had not woman her and Versailles; wear her horses and nerves way?); and can even pay for it-by instal- to pieces; nay, sometimes in the hottest haste, ments; but then the stingy husband! Once wait many hours within call of the Palace, for all, she will not be seen in the business. considering what can be done, (with none but Now, therefore, were it, or were it not, per- Villette to bear her company,)-till the Queen's missible to mortal to transact it secretly in her whim pass. stead? That is the question. If to mortal, then to Monseigneur. Our Countess has even ventured to hint afar off at Monseigneur (kind Countess!) in the proper quarter; but his discretion is doubted,-in regard to money matters.-Discretion? And I on the Promenade de la Rose?-Explode not, O Eminence! Trust will spring of trial: thy hour is coming.. The Lamottes, meanwhile, have left their farewell card with all the respectable classes of Bar-sur-Aube; our Dramaturgist stands again behind the scenes at Paris, How is it, O Monseigneur, that she is still so shy with thee, in this matter of the Necklace; that she leaves the love-lorn Latmian shepherd to droop, here in lone Saverne, like weeping-ash, in naked winter, on his Promenade of the Rose, with vague commonplace responses that "his hour is coming?"-By Heaven and Earth! at last, in late January, it is come. Behold it, this new gilt Autograph: "To Paris, on a small business of delicacy, which our Countess will explain,"-which I already know! To Paris! Horses; Postillions; Beefeaters!—And so his resuscitated Eminence, all wrapt in furs, in the pleasantest frost, (Abbé Georgel says, un beau froid de Janvier,) over clear-jingling highways, rolls rapidly, borne on the bosom of Dreams. O Dame de Lamotte, has the enchanted Diamond fruit ripened, then? Hast thou given it the little shake, big with unutterable fate?I can the Dame justly retort: Who saw me in it?—The reader, therefore, has still Three scenic Exhibitions to look at, by our great Dramaturgist; then the Fourth and last,-By another Author. : At length, after furious-driving and conferences enough, on the 29th of January, a middle course is hit on. Cautious Boehmer shall write out (on finest paper) his terms; which are really rather fair: Sixteen hundred thousand livres; to be paid in five equal instalments; the first this day six months; the. other four from three months to three months; this is what Court-Jewellers, Boehmer and Bassange, on the one part, and Prince Cardinal Commendator Louis de Rohan, on the other part, will stand to; witness their hands. Which written sheet of finest paper our poor Countess must again take charge of, again dash off with to Versailles; and therefrom, after trouble unspeakable, (shared in only by the faithful Villette, of Rascaldom,) return with it, bearing this most precious marginal note,-" BonMarie Antoinette de France," in the Autograph hand! Happy Cardinal! this thou shalt keep in the innermost of all thy repositories. Boehmer, meanwhile, secret as Death, shall tell no man that he has sold his Necklace; or if much pressed for an actual sight of the same, confess that it is sold to the Favourite Sultana of the Grand Turk for the time being.* Thus, then, do the smoking Lamotte horses. at length get rubbed down, and feel the taste of oats, after midnight; the Lamotte Countess can also gradually sink into needful slumber, perhaps not unbroken by dreams. On the morrow the bargain shall be concluded; next day the Necklace be delivered, on Monseigneur's receipt. Will the reader, therefore, be pleased to glance at the following two Life-Pictures, Real-Phantasmagories, or whatever we may call them: they are the two first of those Three scenic real-poetic Exhibitions, brought about by our Dramaturgist: short Exhibitions, but To us, reflecting how oftenest the true moving force in human things works hidden underground, it seems small marvel that this month of January, (1785,) wherein our Coun-essential ones. tess so little courts the eye of the vulgar historian, should, nevertheless, have been the busiest of all for her; especially the latter half thereof. Wisely eschewing matters of business, (which she could never in her life understand,) our Countess will personally take no charge of that bargain-making; leaves it all to her Majesty and the gilt Autographs. Assiduous Boehmer, nevertheless, is in frequent close conference with Monseigneur: the Paris Palais-de-Strasbourg, shut to the rest of men, sees the Jouaillier-Bijoutier, with eager official aspect, come and go. The grand difficulty is -must we say it?-her Majesty's wilful whimsicality, unacquaintance with Business. She CHAPTER XII. THE NECKLACE VANISHES. It is the first day of February; that grand day of Delivery. The Sieur Boehmer is in the Court of the Palais de Strasbourg; his look mysterious-official, but (though much emaciated) radiant with enthusiasm. The Seine. has missed him: though lean, he will fatten again, and live through new enterprises. Singular, were we not used to it: the name, * Campan. Boehmer, as it passes upwards and inwards, lowers all halberts of Heyducs in perpendicular rows: the historical eye beholds him, 'bowing low, with plenteous smiles, in the plush Saloon of Audience. Will it please Monseigneur, then, to do the ne-plus-ultra of Necklaces the honour of looking at it? A piece of Art, which the Universe cannot parallel, shall be parted with (Necessity compels Court-Jewellers) at that ruinously low súm. They, the Court-Jewellers, shall have much ado to weather it; but their work, at least, will find a fit Wearer, and go down to juster posterity. Monseigneur will merely have the condescension to sign this Receipt of Delivery all the rest, her Highness the Sultana of the Sublime Porte has settled it. Here the Court-Jeweller, with his joyous, though now much emaciated face, ventures on a faint knowing smile; to which, in the lofty dissolute-serene of Monseigneur's, some twinkle of permission could not but respond. This is the First of those Three real-poetic Exhibitions, brought about by our Dramaturgist, with perfect success. same,) he has, with his grave, respectful, yet official air, received the Casket, and its priceless contents; with fit injunction, with fit engagements; and retires bowing low. Thus, softly, silently, like a very Dream, flits away our solid necklace,-through the Horn Gate of Dreams! CHAPTER XIII. SCENE THIRD: BY DAME DE LAMOTTE. "To Now, too, in these same days (as he can afterwards prove by affidavit of Landlords) arrives Count Cagliostro himself, from Lyons? No longer by predictions in cipher; but by his living voice, (often in wrapt communion with the unseen world," with Caraffe and four candles;") by his greasy prophetic bulldog face, (said to be the "most perfect quack-face of the eighteenth century,") can we assure ourselves that all is well; that all will turn "to the glory of Monseigneur, to the good of France, and of mankind,"* and Egyptian masonry. It was said, long afterwards, that Monseig- kay flows like water;" our charming Countess, neur should have known, that Boehmer should with her piquancy of face, is sprightlier than have known, her Highness the Sultana's mar-ever; enlivens with the brightest sallies, with ginal-hote (that of "Right-Marie Antoinette of France") to be a forgery and mockery: the of France was fatal to it. Easy talking, easy criticizing! But how are two enchanted men to know; two men with a fixed-idea each, a negative and a positive, rushing together to neutralize each other in rapture?-Enough, Monseigneur has the ne-plus-ultra of Necklaces, conquered by man's valour and woman's wit; and rolls off with it, in mysterious speed, to Versailles, triumphant as a Jason with his Golden Fleece. the adroitest flatteries to all, those suppers of the gods. O Nights, O Suppers-too good to last! Nay, now also occurs another and Third scenic Exhibition, fitted by its radiance to dispel from Monsiegneur's soul the last trace of care. Why the Queen does not, even yet, openly receive me at Court? Patience, Monseigneur! Thou little knowest those too intricate cabals; and how she still but works at them silently, with royal suppressed fury, like a royal lioness only delivering herself from the hunter's toils. Meanwhile, is not thy work done? The NeckThe Second grand scenic Exhibition by our lace, she rejoices over it; beholds (many times Dramaturgic Countess occurs in her own in secret) her Juno-neck mirrored back the apartment at Versailles, so early as the follow-lovelier for it, as our tutelar Countess can ing night. It is a commodious apartment, with alcove; and the alcove has a glass door.* Monseigneur enters, with a follower bearing a mysterious Casket; carefully depositing it, and then respectfully withdrawing. It is the Necklace itself in all its glory! Our tutelary Countess, and Monseigneur, and we, can at leisure admire the queenly Talisman; congratulate ourselves that the painful conquest of it is achieved. But, hist! A knock, mild, but decisive, as from one knocking with authority! Monseigneur and we retire to our alcove; there, from behind our glass screen, observe what passes. Who comes? The door flung open: de par la Reine! Behold him, Monseigneur : he enters with grave, respectful, yet official air; worthy Monsieur Queen's-valet Lesclaux, the same who escorted our tutelary Countess, that moonlight night, from the back apartments of Versailles. Said we not, thou wouldst see him once more?—Methinks, again, spite of his Queen's-uniform, he has much the features of Villette of Rascaldom!-Rascaldom or Valetdom, for to the blind all colours are the *Georgel, &c. testify. Come to-morrow to the Eil de Bœuf ; there see with eyes, in high noon, as already in deep midnight thou hast seen, whether in her royal heart there were delay. Let us stand, then, with Monseigneur, in that ŒŒil de Bœuf, in the Versailles Palace Galery; for all well-dressed persons are admitted : there the Loveliest, in pomp of royalty, will walk to mass. The world is all in pelisses and winter furs; cheerful, clear,-with noses tending to blue. A lively many-voiced Hum plays fitful, hither and thither; of sledge parties and Court parties: frosty state of the weather; stability of M. de Calonne ; Majesty's looks yesterday;-such Hum as always, in these sacred Court-spaces since Louis le Grand made and consecrated them, has, with more or less impetuosity, agitated our common Atmosphere. Ah, through that long high Gallery what figures have passed and vanished! Louvois, with the Great King, flashing fire-glances on the fugitive; in his red right hand a pair of tongs, which pious Maintenon hardly holds * Georgel, &c. back: Louvois, where art thou? Ye Maré- Monseigneur; another thing to Cagliostro, chaux de France? Ye unmentionable-women and Vilette of Rascaldom; a third thing to the of past generations? Here also was it that World, (in printed Mémoires ;) a fourth thing to rolled and rushed the "sound, absolutely like Philippe Egalité: all things to all men! thunder,"* of Courtier hosts; in that dark Let her, however, we say, but manage now to hour when the signal light in Louis the Fif- act her own parts, with proper Histrionic illuteenth's chamber-window was blown out; and sion; and, by Critical glosses, give her past his ghastly infectious Corpse lay alone, for- Dramaturgy the fit aspect, to Monsiegneur and saken on its tumbled death-lair, "in the hands others: this henceforth, and not new Dramaof some poor women :" and the Courtier-hosts turgy, includes her whole task. Dramatic rushed from the Deep-fallen to hail the New-Scenes, in plenty, will follow of themselves; risen! These too rushed, and passed; and especially that Fourth and final Scene, spoken their "sound, absolutely like thunder," became of above as by another Author,-by Destiny silence. Figures? Men? They are fast fleet- itself. ing Shadows: fast chasing each other: it is For in the Lamotte Theatre (so different not a Palace, but a Caravansera.-Monseig- from our common Pasteboard one) the Play neur, (with thy too much Tokay overnight!) goes on, even when the Machinist has left it. cease puzzling: here thou art, this blessed Strange enough: those Air-images, which from February day-the Peerless, will she turn her Magic-lantern she hung out on the empty lightly that high head of hers, and glance bosom of Night, have clutched hold of this aside into the Eil de Bœuf, in passing? Please solid-seeming World, (which some call the Heaven, she will. To our tutelary Countess, Material World, as if that made it more a Real at least, she promised it; though, alas, so one,) and will tumble hither and thither the fickle is womankind!— solidest mass there. Yes, reader, so goes it Hark! Clang of opening doors! She issues, here below. What thou callest a Brain-web, like the Moon in silver brightness, down the or mere illusive Nothing, is it not a web of the Eastern steeps. La Reine vient! What a figure! Brain; of the Spirit which inhabits the Brain; I (with the aid of glasses) discern her. O and which, in this World, rather, as I think, Fairest, Peerless! Let the hum of minor dis- to be named the spiritual one,) very naturally coursing hush itself wholly; and only one moves and tumbles hither and thither all things successive rolling peal of Vive la Reine (like it meets with, in Heaven or in Earth ?-So, too, the moveable radiance of a train of fire-works) the Necklace, though we saw it vanish through irradiate her path.-Ye Immortals! She does, the Horn Gate of Dreams, and in my opinion she beckons, turns her head this way!" Does man shall never more behold it, yet its activshe not?" says Countess de Lamotte.-Ver-ity ceases not, nor will. For no Act of a man, sailles, the Œil de Bœuf, and all men and things, no Thing,. (how much less the man himself!) are drowned in a sea of Light; Monseigneur is extinguished when it disappears: through and that high beckoning Head are alone, with considerable times (there are instances of each other, in the Universe. O Eminence, what a beatific vision! Enjoy it, blest as the gods; ruminate and re-enjoy it, with full soul: it is the last provided for thee. Too soon (in the course of these six months) shall thy beatific vision, like Mirza's vision, gradually melt away; and only oxen and sheep be grazing in its place;-and thou, as a doomed Nebuchadnezzar, be grazing with them. "Does she not?" said the Countess de Lamotte. That it is a habit of hers; that hardly a day passes without her doing it: this the Countess de Lamotte did not say. CHAPTER XIV. Three Thousand Years) it visibly works; invisibly, unrecognised, it works through endless times. Such a Hyper-magical is this our poor old Real world; which some take upon them to pronounce effete, prosaic! Friend, it is thyself that art all withered up into effete Prose, dead as ashes: know this, (I advise thee;) and seek passionately, with a passion little short of desperation, to have it remedied. Meanwhile, what will the feeling heart think to learn that Monseigneur de Rohan (as we prophesied) again experiences the fickleness of a Court; that, notwithstanding beatific visions, at noon and midnight, the Queen's Majesty (with the light ingratitude of her sex) flies off at a tangent; and, far from ousting his detested and detesting rival, Minister Breteuil, and openly delighting to honour Monseigneur, will hardly vouchsafe him a few gilt Autographs, and those few of the most capricious, suspicious, soul-confusing tenor? What terrifiHere, then, the specially Dramaturgic labours co-absurd explosions, which scarcely Cagof Countess de Lamotte may be said to termi- liostro, with Caraffe and four candles, can still; The rest of her life is Histrionic merely, how many deep-weighed Humble Petitions, Exor Histrionic and Critical; as, indeed, what planations, Expostulations, penned with fervidhad all the former part of it been but a Hypo- est eloquence, with craftiest diplomacy,—all decrisia, a more or less correct Playing of Parts? livered by our tutelar Countess: in vain!÷0 O "Mrs. Facing-both-ways, (as old Bunyan Cardinal, with what a huge iron mace, like said,) what a talent hadst thou! No Proteus Guy of Warwick's, thou smitest Phantasms in ever took so many shapes, no Chameleon so two (which close again, take shape again;) often changed color. One thing thou wert to] and only thrashest the air! nate. THE NECKLACE CANNOT BE PAID. * Campan. + See Georgel. One comfort, however, is that the Queen's Majesty has committed herself. The Rose of Trianon, and what may pertain thereto, lies it | ran down like water. Small sparrows, as I not here? That "Right-Marie Antoinette of learn, have been trained to fire cannon; but France," too; and the 30th of July, first-instal-would make poor Artillery Officers in a Waterment-day, coming? She shall be brought to loo. Thou dost not call that Cork a strong terms, good Eminence! Order horses and beef- swimmer? which, nevertheless, shoots, witheaters for Saverne; there, ceasing all written out hurt, the Falls of Niagara; defies the or oral communication, starve her into capitu- thunderbolt itself to sink it, for more than a lating.* It is the bright May month: his Emi- moment. Without intellect, imagination, power nence again somnambulates the Promenade de of attention, or any spiritual faculty, how brave la Rose; but now with grim dry eyes; and, were one, with fit motive for it, such as from time to time, terrifically stamping. hunger! How much might one dare, by the simplest of methods, by not thinking of it, not knowing it!-Besides, is not Cagliostro, foolish blustering Quack, still here? No scapegoat had ever broader back. The Cardinal, too, has he not money? Queen's Majesty, even in effigy, shall not be insulted; the Soubises, De Marsans, and high and puissant Cousins, must huddle the matter up: Calumniated Innocence, in the most universal of Earthquakes, will find some crevice to whisk through, as she has so often done. But who is this that I see mounted on costliest horse and horse-gear; betting at Newmarket Races; though he can speak no English word, and only some Chevalier O'Niel, some Capuchin Macdermot (from Bar-sur Aube) interprets his French into the dialect of the Sister Island? Few days ago I observed him walking in Fleet-street, thoughtfully through Temple-Bar;-in deep treaty with Jeweller Jeffreys, with Jeweller Grey,† for the sale of Diamonds: such a lot as one may boast of. A tall handsome man; with ex-military whiskers; with a look of troubled | gayety, and rascalism: you think it is the Sieur (self-styled Count) de Lamotte; nay, the man himself confesses it! The Diamonds were a present to his Countess,-from the still bountiful Queen. Villette, too, has he completed his sales at Amsterdam? Him I shall by and by behold; not betting at Newmarket, but drinking wine and ardent spirits in the Taverns of Geneva. Ill-gotten wealth endures not; Rascaldom has no strongbox. Countess de Lamotte, for what a set of cormorant scoundrels hast thou laboured; art thou still labouring! But all this while how fares it with his Eminence, left somnambulating the Promenade de la Rose; and at times truculently stamping? Alas, ill; and ever worse. The starving method, singular as it may seem, brings no capitulation; brings only, after a month's waiting, our tutelary Countess, with a gilt Autograph, indeed, and "all wrapt in silk threads, sealed where they cross, but which we read with curses." * We must back again to Paris; there pen new Expostulations; which our unwearied Countess will take charge of, but, alas, can get no answer to. However, is not the 30th of July coming ?-Behold (on the 19th of that Still labouring, we may say: for as the fatal month,) the shortest, most careless of Auto30th of July approaches, what is to be looked graphs with some fifteen hundred pounds of for but universal Earthquake; Mud-explosion real money in it, to pay the-interest of the that will blot out the face of Nature? Me- first instalment; the principal (of some thirty thinks, stood I in thy pattens, Dame de La-thousand) not being at the moment perfectly motte, I would cut and run.-" Run!" exclaims she, with a toss of indignant astonishment: “calumniated Innocence run?" For it is singular how in some minds (that are mere bottomless "chaotic whirlpools of gilt shreds") there is no deliberate Lying whatever; and nothing is either believed or disbelieved, but only (with some transient suitable Histrionic emotion) spoken and heard. convenient! Hungry Boehmer makes large eyes at this proposal; will accept the money, but only as part of payment; the man is positive: a Court of Justice, if no other means, shall get him the remainder. What now is to be done? Farmer-general Mons. Saint-James, Cag liostro's disciple, and wet with Tokay, will cheerfully advance the sum needed-for her Had Dame de Lamotte a certain greatness Majesty's sake; thinks, however (with all his of character, then; at least, a strength of tran-Tokay,) it were good to speak with her Majesty scendant audacity, amounting to the bastard- first. I observe, meanwhile, the distracted heroic? Great, indubitably great, is her Drama-hungry Boehmer driven hither and thither, not turgic and Histrionic talent: but as for the rest, one must answer, with reluctance, No. Mrs. Facing-both-ways is a "Spark of vehement Life," but the furthest in the world from a brave woman: she did not, in any case, show the bravery of a woman; did, in many cases, show the mere screaming trepidation of one. Her grand quality is rather to be reckoned negative: the "untamableness" as of a fly; the "wax-cloth dress" from which so much by his fixed-idea; alas, no, but by the far more frightful ghost thereof,-since no payment is forthcoming. He stands, one day, speaking with a Queen's waiting-woman (Madam Campan herself,) in "a thunder-shower, which neither of them notice," -so thunderstruck are they. What weather-symptoms for his Eminence! The 30th of July has come, but no money; the 30th is gone, but no money. O Eminence, what a grim farewell of July is this of 1785! The last July went out with airs from Heaven, † Campar. * See Lamotte. 2 R2 and Trianon Roses. These August days, are the Devils drove him? It is Monseigneur's they not worse than dog's days; worthy to be Heyduc: Monseigneur spoke three words in blotted out from all Almanacs? Boehmer German to him, at the door of his Versailles and Bassange thou canst still see; but only Hôtel; even handed him a slip of writing, return from them swearing."* Nay, what which (some say, with borrowed Pencil, “in new misery is this? Our tutelary Histrionic | his red square cap ") he had managed to preCountess enters, distraction in her eyes;† she pare on the way hither.* To Paris To the has just been at Versailles; the Queen's Ma- Palais-Cardinal! The horse dies on reaching jesty, with a levity of caprice which we dare the stable; the Heyduc swoons on reaching not trust ourselves to characterize, declares the cabinet: but his slip of writing fell from plainly that she will deny ever having got the his hand; and I (says the Abbé Georgel) was Necklace; ever having had, with his Emi- there. The red Portfolio, containing all the nence any transaction whatsoever!-Mud-gilt Autographs, is burnt utterly, with much explosion without parallel in volcanic annals. else, before Breteuil can arrive for apposition -The Palais de Strasbourg appears to be be- of the seals!-Whereby Europe, in ringing set with spies; the Lamottes (for the Count, from side to side, must worry itself with guesstoo, is here) are packing up for Bur-sur-Aube.ing: and at this hour (on this paper) sees the The Sieur Boehmer, has he fallen insane? matter in such an interesting clear-obscure. Or into communication with Breteuil ?— And so distractedly and distractively, to the sound of all Discords in Nature, opens that Fourth, final Scenic Exhibition, composed by Destiny. CHAPTER XV. SCENE FOURTH: BY DESTINY. It is Assumption-day, the 15th of August. Don thy pontificalia, Grand-Almoner; crush down these hideous temporalities out of sight. In any case, smooth thy countenance into some sort of lofty-dissolute serene: thou hast a thing they call worshipping God to enact, thyself the first actor. The Grand-Almoner has done it. He is in Versailles Eil de Boeuf Gallery; where male and female Peerage, and all Noble France in gala, various and glorious as the rainbow, waits only the signal to begin worshipping: on the serene of his lofty-dissolute countenance, there can nothing be read. By Heaven! he is sent for to the Royal Apartment! Soon Count Cagliostro and his Seraphic Countess go to join Monseigneur, in State Prison. In few days, follows Dame de Lamotte (from Bar-sur-Aube); Demoiselle d'Oliva by and by (from Brussels); Villette-de-Retaux from his Swiss retirement, in the taverns of Geneva. The Bastille opens its iron bosom to them all. CHAPTER LAST. MISSA EST. . Thus, then, the Diamond Necklace having, on the one hand, vanished through the Horn Gate of Dreams, and so (under the pincers of Nisus Lamotte and Euryalus Villette) lost its sublunary individuality and being; and, on the other hand, all that trafficked in it, sitting now safe under lock and key, that justice may take cognisance of them,-our engagement in regard to the matter is on the point of terminating. That extraordinary Procès du Collier (NeckHe returns with the old lofty-dissolute look, lace Trial,) spinning itself through Nine other inscrutably serene: has his turn for favour ever-memorable Months, to the astonishment actually come, then? Those fifteen long of the hundred and eighty-seven assembled years of soul's travail are to be rewarded by Parliementiers, and of all Quiddunes, Journala birth ?-Monsieur le Baron de Breteuil ists, Anecdotists, Satirists, in both Hemisissues; great in-his pride of place, in this the pheres, is, in every sense, a "Celebrated Trial," crowning moment of his life. With one radiand belongs to Publishers of such. How, by diant glance, Breteuil summons the Officer on innumerable confrontations and expiscatory Guard: with another, fixes Monseigneur: "De questions, through entanglements, doublings, par le Roi, Monseigneur: you are arrested! At and windings that fatigue eye and soul, this your risk, Officer!"-Curtains as of pitch-most involute of Lies is finally winded off to black whirlwind envelope Monseigneur; whirl the scandalous-ridiculous cinder-heart of it, off with him,--to outer darkness. Versailles let others relate. Gallery explodes aghast; as if Guy Fawkes's Plot had burst under it. "The Queen's Majesty was weeping," whisper some. There will be no Assumption service; or such a one as was never celebrated since Assumption came in fashion. Meanwhile, during these Nine ever-memorable Months, till they terminate late at night precisely with the May of 1786,† how many fugitive leaves," quizzical, imaginative, or at least mendacious, were flying about in Newspapers; or stitched together as Pamphlets; and what heaps of others were left creeping in Manuscript, we shall not say;having, indeed, no complete. Collection of them, and, what is more to the purpose, little to |