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The good man has perished from the Earth, and there is no one righteous among men. They all lie in wait for blood. Every man hunts his brother with a net.

To make good for the evil of both their hands, the prince asks and the judge judges for a reward. And the great man speaks out the corruption of his soul. So they weave it together.

The best of them is as a brier. And the most righteous of them is sharper than a thorn-hedge. The day of your watchmen and your visitation comes. Then shall be their confusion.

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