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Across the city, crowds whisper lies about me.
    Their hate is strong, and they search for ways to harm me.

Some are saying: “Some vile disease has gotten hold of him.
    The bed he lies in will be his deathbed.”
Even my best friend, my confidant
    who has eaten my bread will stab me in the back.[a]

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Footnotes

  1. 41:9 John 13:18

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