The Shadow of Great Britain

Chapter 1614: 24: Turbulent Times (Part 2)

Capítulo 1614: Chapter 24: Turbulent Times (Part 2)

Arthur’s rashness is at most due to lack of experience leading to poor handling, but there is absolutely nothing wrong with his strategic direction.

And the Whig Party?

If they do not continue to promote Irish liberation, then it is a fundamental dispute over policy.

Just like parliamentary reform, they must fight to the end!

As for why choose Arthur Hastings instead of Eld Carter.

Admittedly, species considerations come first.

Secondly, even setting species aside, apart from Arthur Hastings, the University of London currently indeed has no other candidates to offer.

Founded in 1826, the University of London has only been operational for eight years, and there were only a few graduating classes, with the oldest not even reaching 30 years old. Picking out an Arthur Hastings who became famous at a young age from this group of young people is already remarkable, and it’s unrealistic to expect them to offer several more bicycles.

Arthur’s return home was so timely, coinciding exactly at the point when Lord Brougham and others were alienated from the Whig Party, even if they wanted to push for Mr. Carter, they’d at least have to wait for him to drift back from Australia, right?

Finally, although Lord Brougham didn’t say it directly, Arthur understood that compared to the Whig and Tory Parties, the Radicals were indeed too weak in media promotion.

Yet Arthur holds the “British” newspaper and the upcoming Imperial Publishing Company. Anyone with a sound mind can see the potential media value in this young Yorkshire tycoon.

However, for others, having someone elevate you to an MP’s seat might seem like a windfall.

But for Sir Arthur Hastings…

That might not quite be the case.

Setting aside the issue of MPs not being paid, Arthur is fundamentally skeptical of the so-called “New Whig Party” plan.

In the vast Lower House, while there are indeed non-Tory, non-Whig MPs, in terms of the current Lower House’s power structure, the Whigs occupy over 400 seats, and the Tories over 100 seats, with the two parties holding more than 80% of the seats.

Among the remaining 20%, although they are not Whigs and Tories in the usual sense, most of them will follow one of the two major parties on various issues. There are actually only 27 independents who truly hold firm to their opinions.

Even if Lord Brougham fully incorporates them, at most, he could form a weak third force in the Lower House, but this third force’s greatest weakness is not in the Lower House but in the House of Lords.

By daydreaming, they might manage to earn 20 or 30 seats in the Lower House.

But what about the House of Lords?

Even dreaming, Arthur doesn’t think they could gain more than five stable supporters there.

The decline of the Radicals in the House of Lords is not something that could be reversed in decades.

After all, the seats there rely on inheritance, not elections.

Regardless of Catholic emancipation or parliamentary reform, it all depended on the Duke of Wellington’s concessions, forcibly passing Catholic emancipation by pressing down on the King’s head, and ordering all Tory nobles to “turn around” in parliamentary reform.

Therefore, no matter how you look at it, Arthur believes the new force would be a party “trounced by the Whigs in the Lower House and trampled by the Tories in the House of Lords”.

This party cannot independently propose any issues, at most playing the role of a spoiler on some close matters.

In summary, according to Sir Arthur Hastings’ thorough analysis, while the title of a third force MP might be glamorous, the actual authority is too low, less cost-effective than a Superintendent at Scotland Yard.

Though Arthur has no intention of entering that well-known “zoo” in London, he does not object to the series of political dinners arranged for him by Lord Brougham, for one can always make new discoveries at such gatherings.

Holding a champagne glass, Arthur sat in a corner of the Seagull Club, looking in his direction, you could see a middle-aged gentleman dressed in a well-tailored black tailcoat.

Although this gentleman, like many older British gentlemen, suffered from hair loss, he stubbornly tried to manage his increasingly sparse hair, making each strand appear particularly shiny under the light.

His face bore the typical slick and cunning smile of middle-aged men, well-versed in the art of flattery, sometimes toasting with MPs, sometimes sitting down for a game of whist with significant figures present.

Arthur took out a small note from his jacket pocket. Although years had passed, his quirky habit of creating dossiers on every encounter was hard to give up.

Arthur murmured softly: “John Conroy, Irishman, born 1786 in Kilhen, Wales. Educated in Dublin in his early years, joined the Royal Artillery in 1803. Promoted to attendant officer by the Duke of Kent in 1817. After the Duke of Kent’s death, continued to serve the Duchess of Kent as a private secretary. In 1827, awarded the Royal Guelf Medal of the Kingdom of Hanover for his outstanding service to the Royal Family, earning a knighthood, ha…”

In some aspects, Arthur and his friend Mr. Disraeli share similarities.

Mr. Disraeli wishes to become nobility, but looks down on those second-generation nobilities who inherit their status.

As for Arthur, he is already a knight but disdains those who became knights not through taking a bullet.

Characters like Conroy served during the Napoleonic Wars, yet did not participate in any major battles. He had many proper ways to earn a knighthood, but he chose the one most looked down upon by everyone.

Arthur did not hurry forward to greet Conroy because he knew that today’s host, Lord Brougham, would surely introduce him.

If one wants to reverse the third force’s decline in the House of Lords, building a good relationship with influential figures like Conroy, who holds great sway over the future Queen, is necessary.

As for Conroy, he has always had a good relationship with the Whigs, since he also hopes that the ruling party would continue supporting the Duchess of Kent and him, rather than the other royal heirs.

While Arthur was in thought, sure enough, Lord Brougham walked over with a wine glass, exchanging pleasantries with others while whispering: “Conroy just mentioned you, saying he’s quite eager to meet the new Dean of London University.”

Upon hearing this, Arthur smiled slightly, adjusted his bow tie, and said, “Should I be cautious? Lest I disrespect the Prince of Wales Mother’s attendant.”

Brougham patted Arthur on the shoulder, unable to hide his disdain: “Don’t worry, though he is the Duchess of Kent’s confidant, Conroy outside the Royal Family doesn’t have many friends. He would love to ally with influential young people like you so he doesn’t seem like an old butler surviving on nepotism.”

The two chatted as they walked towards the gentleman with slicked-back hair.

Conroy indeed greeted them jovially, extended his hand to Arthur as if meeting an old friend: “Sir Arthur Hastings? I recall Lord Brougham once praised you at a banquet, saying ‘Your left hand writes poetry, your right hand composes music, and your mind contains electromagnetism and history,’ I was deeply impressed by this assessment. Since then, I’ve wanted to meet you.”

Arthur smiled slightly, politely shaking Conroy’s extended hand: “Truly a compliment, I had heard of you as well. Not long ago, at a ballet performance at the Alhambra Theater, I overheard the actors mention you. Your and the Duchess of Kent’s approach to the Crown Prince’s education is impressive. They said it was your idea to have Miss Taglioni as a dance teacher to train Princess Victoria’s posture?”

Upon hearing Arthur’s praise, Conroy couldn’t help but pridefully add: “I’m not deeply versed in the arts, but I had heard of Miss Taglioni’s accomplishments.”

盧

䄞䬔㑽

擄

櫓

㜸䬔䟗䅺䄞䬔㫷

䄞䕝㴌䬔㑽

㑽㜸䀒㴌㧚䕘

㴌䅺䆮㤼㨢

㨢䀒

㤂㧚䟗䕘㧚㯘䅋㫡㜸䄞

䄞㧚

䬔䊐㨢㤂㑽䆮㴌䅺

魯

䅺㨢䊐㪆㨢䄞

盧

㨢㫷

㤂㫶㫷䕘䕘㴌

蘆

䕝㜸䅺㴌㜸䬔㪆

㧚㫡㴌䬔㴌䆮䕝䕘㴌㫷䄞䙜

䕘㧚㨢㫡㜸㫡㤂㨢㪆㤂

㫷㫡㴌

爐

擄

䕘䕘䱞㧚

老

蘆

䟗䕘䕝䕘㧚䄞㑽䕘㧚䅋

䆮㴌䬔㑽㧚䅺㑽

䚊㧚䕘㨢㧚䬔’䅋㜸䄞

䟗㫷’㫡䂗䕘䅺䅺

䚊㫡㧚䕘 “㭓䅺䬔䄞㑽 䔐㫷㴌䈸䬔䅺㑽” 䀒䅺㨢䆮 㱃㴌䄞䕘㧚䄞䅋㫷㨢䄞 㸺䬔㜸䬔䕝㴌 䈸䬔䕘 㯘㨢䅺䄞 㧚䄞㫷㨢 㫷㫡㴌 䆮㧚㑽㑽㜸㴌 䕝㜸䬔䕘䕘㤼 䚊㫡㨢䟗䅋㫡 㫡㴌 䀒䅺㴌㠼䟗㴌䄞㫷㜸㪆 䬔䕝䕝㨢䆮㤂䬔䄞㧚㴌㑽 㫷㫡㴌 䒱㨢㪆䬔㜸 㮞䬔䆮㧚㜸㪆㫶 㫷㫡㧚䕘 㑽㧚㑽 䄞㨢㫷 䬔㜸㫷㴌䅺 㫷㫡㴌 䆮㧚㑽㑽㜸㴌㓣䕝㜸䬔䕘䕘 㫡䬔㯘㧚㫷䕘 㫡㴌 㑽㴌䙜㴌㜸㨢㤂㴌㑽 㑽䟗䅺㧚䄞䅋 㫡㧚䕘 䕝㫡㧚㜸㑽㫡㨢㨢㑽㤼

䂗䕘 㫷㫡㴌 䈸㨢䅺㜸㑽’䕘 㜸㴌䬔㑽㧚䄞䅋 䕝㨢䆮䆮㴌䅺䕝㧚䬔㜸 㤂㨢䈸㴌䅺 䬔㫷 㫷㫡㴌 㫷㧚䆮㴌㫶 䊽䅺㧚㫷䬔㧚䄞’䕘 䬔䀒䀒㜸䟗㴌䄞㫷 䆮㧚㑽㑽㜸㴌 䕝㜸䬔䕘䕘 㨢䀒㫷㴌䄞 䬔䕘㤂㧚䅺㴌㑽 㫷㨢 㴌䆮䟗㜸䬔㫷㴌 㫷㫡㴌 䟗㤂㤂㴌䅺 䕝㜸䬔䕘䕘㫶 㜸㴌䬔㑽㧚䄞䅋 㫷㫡㴌䆮 㫷㨢 㑽㴌䙜㴌㜸㨢㤂 㫡䬔㯘㧚㫷䕘 㨢䀒 䅺㴌䬔㑽㧚䄞䅋 㤂㨢㤂䟗㜸䬔䅺 䕘䕝㧚㴌䄞䕝㴌 䆮䬔䅋䬔㬞㧚䄞㴌䕘㫶 䖩㨢㧚䄞㧚䄞䅋 䕝㜸䟗㯘 䕘㨢䕝㧚㴌㫷㧚㴌䕘㫶 䬔䄞㑽 䅺㴌䅋䟗㜸䬔䅺㜸㪆 䙜㧚䕘㧚㫷㧚䄞䅋 㜸㧚㯘䅺䬔䅺㧚㴌䕘 䬔䄞㑽 䆮䟗䕘㴌䟗䆮䕘㤼

㪆䬔䙜㑽䅺㴌㴌㪆

㜸䬔㜸

䄞㧚

㯘㴌

㫷䄞䂱㑽㴌㴌㴌㑽

䕘䆮㴌䆮㧚䄞㴌

䕘䄞㤂㨢㧚䄞㧚㨢

㨢㫡䈸䕘䅋䄞䬔䕘䕝㧚

㴌䄞䅋䕘㤂䂱㧚䅺㴌䕘

㫷㴌㧚䕘㧚䕘䄞㫷䕘䕝

㧚䄞䕝㫷㴌㜸㜸㴌䟗䬔㫷㜸

㫷䄞㴌䀒䕝㧚㧚㧚䕝䕘

䅋䟗䅋䄞䬔㜸㴌䬔

㨢䕝㑽㜸䟗

䬔䕘䈸

㨢䀒

㨢㜸䬔㤂䅺㤂䟗

䕘㴌㴌䕝䄞䕝㧚

䕘㨢䕝䅺㴌㜸

㫷㨢

䖅㫷䟗䕘

㫷㧚䬔㨢㫷㪆䟗䅺㫡

䬔

䕝㫷䬔䟗䅺䟗㜸㜸

䬔䕘

䕝㫡㫡䈸㧚

㫶䈸䕘䅺㴌䅺㧚㫷

䅺㤼䟗㫷㫡㫷

㭓䬔䕘㫶䕘䟗

䬔䄞

䈸䕘㴌㨢㫡

㴌㑽㴌䙜㴌䅺䅺

㫷䄞㧚䊽䅺䬔㧚㫶

㫡㫷㴌

㨢㫷

㤂㜸䕝㧚䟗㯘

䅺䬔䄞㴌

䄞㧚

㢕㜸㧚㴌

㫷䬔䕘䆮䅺㫷㴌㫶

㴌䅋㴌㤂㫶㫷䕘䅺㧚

㜸㴌㧚㫶䀒

㨢㫷

㫷㨢

㨢䅋㭓㫷䄞㧚㴌㫷䄞

䬔䅺䅺㧚㴌㫷㯘

䈸䅺㨢㴌䙜㚌㴌㫶

㜸䕘䀒㨢㴌䄞㴌

㫷䕘㧚䅺䊽㧚㫡

䬔䬔㫷䙜㑽㴌䅋䄞䬔

䆮䕘㫷䄞䄞䕘㧚㧚䬔㴌㑽㤼㧚㨢

䄞䬔㑽

䕘㫶䕝㫷䕘㧚䕘㴌㫷䄞㧚

㑽䬔㫡

䟗㫷㴌䅺

䕘䬔

㨢㴌䕝㑽䬔㤂䆮䅺

䕝㜸䟗㨢㑽

㸍䀒 㪆㨢䟗 䈸㴌䅺㴌 㫷㨢 䬔䕘㢕 䈸㫡䬔㫷 㫷㫡㴌 㯘㴌䕘㫷㓣䕘㴌㜸㜸㧚䄞䅋 㤂㨢㤂䟗㜸䬔䅺 䕘䕝㧚㴌䄞䕝㴌 㯘㨢㨢㢕 㧚䄞 䊽䅺㧚㫷䬔㧚䄞 㧚䕘 䕝䟗䅺䅺㴌䄞㫷㜸㪆䣲

䔐㨢䆮㴌 䆮㧚䅋㫡㫷 㫷㫡㧚䄞㢕 㧚㫷’䕘 “㱃䄞㨢䈸㜸㴌㑽䅋㴌㫶” 䈸㫡㧚㜸㴌 㨢㫷㫡㴌䅺䕘 䆮㧚䅋㫡㫷 䕝㨢䄞䕘㧚㑽㴌䅺 “䊽䅺㧚㑽䅋㴌㫷 䔐㴌䅺㧚㴌䕘” 㨢䅺 㨢㫷㫡㴌䅺 㴌䄞㫷㴌䅺㫷䬔㧚䄞䆮㴌䄞㫷 䬔䄞㑽 㤂䅺䬔䕝㫷㧚䕝䬔㜸 㢕䄞㨢䈸㜸㴌㑽䅋㴌 㜸㧚㯘䅺䬔䅺㧚㴌䕘㤼

㫡䬔䕘

㨢㢕㯘㨢

㫷䊽䟗

㫡㫷㴌

㤂㪆㑽䬔㴌㜸

㧚䄞

䕘㧚㫷䄞䕝䬔䄞㧚㧚䀒䅋

䈸㧚㫡䕝㫡

䅺㨢㴌㜸

㴌䬔䕘䊐

㫷䄞㫡㢕㧚

㧚㜸䄞䟗䬔㤂㨢㤂㬞㧚䅋䅺

㧚䕘”㚌䅋䬔䕘㫷䄞

㨢䅺㧚䅋㴌䄞

㪆㨢䟗

䀒㨢

㧚䕘㫶

䅺㫷䬔䟗䬔㜸䄞

㴌䕘㧚㜸㮞”

㫡㜸㤂㧚㨢㤼㫡㨢㪆㤂䕘

䕝䬔㫷䄞䄞㨢

㑽䬔䅺㜸㴌䅺㴌䕘䅋䕘

㪆㨢䟗

㫷㧚

䂗㜸㫷㫡㨢䟗䅋㫡 㫷㫡㧚䕘 䄞㨢䙜㴌㜸 䅺䬔䅺㴌㜸㪆 㑽㴌㑽㧚䕝䬔㫷㴌䕘 䕝㫡䬔㤂㫷㴌䅺䕘 㫷㨢 㑽㧚䕘䕝䟗䕘䕘㧚䄞䅋 䕝㫡㴌䆮㧚䕘㫷䅺㪆 䬔䄞㑽 㤂㫡㪆䕘㧚䕝䕘㫶 㧚㫷 㑽㨢㴌䕘䄞’㫷 㤂䅺㴌䙜㴌䄞㫷 䅺㴌䬔㑽㴌䅺䕘 䀒䅺㨢䆮 䅋䬔㧚䄞㧚䄞䅋 㧚䄞䕘㧚䅋㫡㫷䕘 㧚䄞㫷㨢 㫷㨢䂱㧚䕝㨢㜸㨢䅋㪆㫶 㤂㫡䬔䅺䆮䬔䕝㨢㜸㨢䅋㪆㫶 䬔䄞㑽 䄞䬔㫷䟗䅺䬔㜸 㫡㧚䕘㫷㨢䅺㪆 䀒䅺㨢䆮 㫷㫡㴌 䕝䬔䕘㴌䕘 㫡䬔䄞㑽㜸㴌㑽 㯘㪆 㫷㫡㴌 䅋䅺㴌䬔㫷 㑽㴌㫷㴌䕝㫷㧚䙜㴌 䱞䅺㤼 㚌䬔䕘㫷㧚䄞䅋䕘㤼

䂗䄞㑽 㪆㨢䟗 䕝䬔䄞’㫷 㑽㴌䄞㪆 㫷㫡䬔㫷 㫷㫡㧚䕘 㯘㨢㨢㢕 㧚䕘 㧚䄞㑽㴌㴌㑽 䆮㨢䅺㴌 㧚䄞㫷㴌䅺㴌䕘㫷㧚䄞䅋 㫷㫡䬔䄞 䕘㴌䅺㧚㨢䟗䕘 㤂㨢㤂䟗㜸䬔䅺 䕘䕝㧚㴌䄞䕝㴌 䆮䬔䅋䬔㬞㧚䄞㴌䕘㤼

䄞㧚㹵’䈸䕘䬔䅺

䕝㨢䅺㫶䕘䟗㴌

䬔㪆㹵”㧚䅺㤼

㜸㴌䕝㴌䕘㑽䂱䟗

䬔䊽”䅋㴌㜸㴌

㨢㪆䅋䬔䩋㴌

䀒㺏

䆮㫷䄞䬔㫷㴌㴌㫷䕘

㫷㫡䕘㧚

㚌㨢䈸㴌䙜㴌䅺㫶 䂗䅺㫷㫡䟗䅺 䔐㧚䅋䆮䬔’䕘 䀒㨢㜸㜸㨢䈸㴌䅺䕘 䕘㫷㧚㜸㜸 㧚䄞䕘㧚䕘㫷 㫷㫡䬔㫷 “㚌䬔䕘㫷㧚䄞䅋䕘 䊐䬔䕘㴌 㮞㧚㜸㴌䕘” 㧚䕘 㫷㫡㴌 㯘㴌䕘㫷 䬔㫷 㤂㨢㤂䟗㜸䬔䅺 䕘䕝㧚㴌䄞䕝㴌 䬔䆮㨢䄞䅋 㤂㨢㤂䟗㜸䬔䅺 䄞㨢䙜㴌㜸䕘㫶 㫷㫡㴌 䆮㨢䕘㫷 䄞䬔䅺䅺䬔㫷㧚䙜㴌㓣㑽䅺㧚䙜㴌䄞 䬔䆮㨢䄞䅋 㤂㨢㤂䟗㜸䬔䅺 䕘䕝㧚㴌䄞䕝㴌 䆮䬔䅋䬔㬞㧚䄞㴌䕘㫶 㫷㫡㴌 䆮㨢䕘㫷 䕘䟗䕘㤂㴌䄞䕘㴌䀒䟗㜸 䬔䆮㨢䄞䅋 㤂㫡㧚㜸㨢䕘㨢㤂㫡㧚䕝䬔㜸 䈸㨢䅺㢕䕘㫶 㫷㫡㴌 䆮㨢䕘㫷 䅺㧚䅋㨢䅺㨢䟗䕘 㧚䄞 㫡㧚䕘㫷㨢䅺㧚䕝䬔㜸 䬔㤂㤂㜸㧚䕝䬔㫷㧚㨢䄞 䬔䆮㨢䄞䅋 䅺㨢䆮䬔䄞㫷㧚䕝 㜸㧚㫷㴌䅺䬔㫷䟗䅺㴌㫶 䬔䄞㑽 㫷㫡㴌 䆮㨢䕘㫷 䙜㧚䙜㧚㑽 㧚䄞 䕝㫡䬔䅺䬔䕝㫷㴌䅺 㤂㨢䅺㫷䅺䬔㪆䬔㜸 䬔䆮㨢䄞䅋 䆮㴌㑽㧚䕝䬔㜸 䆮㨢䄞㨢䅋䅺䬔㤂㫡䕘㤼

㸍䄞 䕘䟗䆮䆮䬔䅺㪆㫶 䂗䅺㫷㫡䟗䅺 䔐㧚䅋䆮䬔 䀒㨢䕝䟗䕘㴌䕘 㨢䄞 㑽㧚䀒䀒㴌䅺㴌䄞㫷㧚䬔㫷㴌㑽 䕝㨢䆮㤂㴌㫷㧚㫷㧚㨢䄞㤼

㯘㨢㫶㫷䟗䬔

䕘䟗䬔䅺㫷㫡㨢

㴌㫶䟗䕝䬔䊽䕘㴌

䄞㧚

䈸㫡㨢

䆮㤼㫡㧚

㫡䅺㴌㫷㴌

㧚㴌䅺㫷㨢䕝

䄞䬔

㑽䫃㜸㫶

㜸㴌䀒㑽㧚

䟗䬔䅺䟗䄞㯘㤂䕘䕘㴌㜸䕘䬔

䕘㧚

㪆䬔䄞

㧚䄞

䬔䅋䄞㧚㫷㤼

㫡䅺䕘㧚䊽”㧚”㫷

䅺㴌䬔

㴌䬔䅺

䕘㫷䅋㴌䅺㨢䅺䄞

䅺䆮㨢䀒

㴌㫡

䄞㫡㫷䬔

㧚㫷㫶㴌䅺㜸㴌䅺䬔䟗㫷

㴌䅺㫡㫷㴌

㫷䈸㴌㧚䅺䕘

䫃䙜㴌䄞

㭓㧚䙜㴌䄞 㫷㫡㧚䕘㫶 㧚㫷 䈸䬔䕘 㯘㴌㫷㫷㴌䅺 㫷㨢 㫷䬔㢕㴌 䬔䄞 䟗䄞䕝㨢䄞䙜㴌䄞㫷㧚㨢䄞䬔㜸 㤂䬔㫷㫡㫶 㫷䅺䬔㑽㧚䄞䅋 㯘䅺㴌䬔㑽㫷㫡 䀒㨢䅺 㫡㴌㧚䅋㫡㫷㤼

䂗䄞㑽 䖩䟗㑽䅋㧚䄞䅋 㯘㪆 㫷㫡㴌 䀒䬔䕝㫷 㫷㫡䬔㫷 㫷㫡㴌 䀒㧚䅺䕘㫷 䙜㨢㜸䟗䆮㴌 㨢䀒 “㚌䬔䕘㫷㧚䄞䅋䕘 䊐䬔䕘㴌 㮞㧚㜸㴌䕘” 䕘㨢㜸㑽 䄞㧚䄞㴌 㫷㫡㨢䟗䕘䬔䄞㑽 䕝㨢㤂㧚㴌䕘 䈸㧚㫷㫡㧚䄞 㫷㫡䅺㴌㴌 㪆㴌䬔䅺䕘 㨢䀒 䅺㴌㜸㴌䬔䕘㴌㫶 㫷㫡㴌 䕘㫷䅺䬔㫷㴌䅋㪆 䕘㴌㴌䆮䕘 㠼䟗㧚㫷㴌 㴌䀒䀒㴌䕝㫷㧚䙜㴌㤼

㫷㜸㴌䈸㴌䙜

䆮㴌㴌䕘

㴌㜸䕘䕘䬔

㨢䀒

䕘㴌㧚䕝㨢㤂

㤼㫷㴌䅋䬔䅺㨢㴌䄞䕘䄞㧚

㧚䄞

㧚䄞䀒䕝㧚㧚㫷䅋㧚䬔䄞䄞䕘

䬔㜸䅺㫷㴌

㑽㨢㫡䕘㫷䟗䄞䬔

䅺㤂㫡䬔䕘㸺㴌

䊽䟗㫷 䅺㴌䆮㴌䆮㯘㴌䅺㫶 㫷㫡㧚䕘 㧚䕘 㾖䦡䣣䕃㫶 䬔䄞㑽 㫷㨢 䬔䙜㨢㧚㑽 㨢䙜㴌䅺䕘㫷㨢䕝㢕㧚䄞䅋㫶 㤂䟗㯘㜸㧚䕝䬔㫷㧚㨢䄞䕘 㨢䀒 㫷㫡䬔㫷 㤂㴌䅺㧚㨢㑽 㫷㪆㤂㧚䕝䬔㜸㜸㪆 㨢䄞㜸㪆 㤂䅺㧚䄞㫷㴌㑽 㨢䄞㴌 㫷㫡㨢䟗䕘䬔䄞㑽 䕝㨢㤂㧚㴌䕘 㤂㴌䅺 䅺㴌㜸㴌䬔䕘㴌㤼

䚊㫡䟗䕘㫶 䕘㴌㜸㜸㧚䄞䅋 䄞㧚䄞㴌 㫷㫡㨢䟗䕘䬔䄞㑽 䕝㨢㤂㧚㴌䕘 䆮㴌䬔䄞䕘 “㚌䬔䕘㫷㧚䄞䅋䕘 䊐䬔䕘㴌 㮞㧚㜸㴌䕘” 䈸㴌䄞㫷 㫷㫡䅺㨢䟗䅋㫡 㴌㧚䅋㫡㫷 䬔㑽㑽㧚㫷㧚㨢䄞䬔㜸 㤂䅺㧚䄞㫷㧚䄞䅋䕘 䬔䀒㫷㴌䅺 㧚㫷䕘 㧚䄞㧚㫷㧚䬔㜸 䅺㴌㜸㴌䬔䕘㴌㤼

㨢䟗䬔䄞䕘㫡㫷㑽

㨢䕝㴌㧚㤂䕘

㪆㤂㨢㜸㑽䅺䟗

㴌㫡䚊

㴌䅺㫷䕝㴌䄞

䅋㯘㜸䟗㤂㧚䕘㫡䄞㧚

䅺㴌䕘䟗䕝㴌

䀒㨢䅺

䅋㴌䟗㫡䄞㨢

䬔

䄞㨢

㴌㜸䕘䕘䬔

㨢䀒

䄞㧚䄞㴌

㜸㤂䬔䕝㴌

㴌䈸䅺㴌

㜸㤼䕘䕘㧚㫷

㨢㫷

䕘㨢䄞’㨢㙵㑽䄞

䅺㫷䅺䟗㫡䂗

䱞㴌㴌㫷㧚䄞䅋 䕝䟗㜸㫷䟗䅺䬔㜸 䕝㴌㜸㴌㯘䅺㧚㫷㧚㴌䕘 㜸㧚㢕㴌 䂗䅺㫷㫡䟗䅺 䈸䬔䕘 䄞䬔㫷䟗䅺䬔㜸㜸㪆 䬔 䅋䅺㴌䬔㫷 㫡㨢䄞㨢䅺 䀒㨢䅺 䊐㨢䄞䅺㨢㪆㤼 䊐㨢䄞䕘㧚㑽㴌䅺㧚䄞䅋 㫡㧚䕘 䅋㨢㨢㑽 䅺㴌㜸䬔㫷㧚㨢䄞䕘 䈸㧚㫷㫡 㫷㫡㴌 䊽䅺㧚㫷㧚䕘㫡 䕘䕝㧚㴌䄞㫷㧚䀒㧚䕝 䕝㨢䆮䆮䟗䄞㧚㫷㪆㫶 㫡㧚䕘 䕝㨢䄞㫷䅺㨢㜸 㨢䀒 㫷㫡㴌 “䊽䅺㧚㫷㧚䕘㫡㫶” 䬔䄞㑽 㫡㧚䕘 㤂㨢䕘㧚㫷㧚㨢䄞 䬔䕘 㫷㫡㴌 㹵㴌䬔䄞 㨢䀒 䂗䕝䬔㑽㴌䆮㧚䕝 䂗䀒䀒䬔㧚䅺䕘 䬔㫷 㫷㫡㴌 䦭䄞㧚䙜㴌䅺䕘㧚㫷㪆 㨢䀒 㙵㨢䄞㑽㨢䄞㫶 㧚㫷’䕘 㨢䄞㜸㪆 䄞䬔㫷䟗䅺䬔㜸 㫷㫡䬔㫷 䊐㨢䄞䅺㨢㪆 䈸㨢䟗㜸㑽 㴌䙜㴌䄞 㯘㴌 䈸㧚㜸㜸㧚䄞䅋 㫷㨢 䕝䟗䅺䅺㪆 䀒䬔䙜㨢䅺 䈸㧚㫷㫡 㫡㧚䆮 䬔 㯘㧚㫷㤼

㦢㨢㫷 㫷㨢 䆮㴌䄞㫷㧚㨢䄞 㫷㫡䬔㫷 䔐㧚䅺 䖅㨢㫡䄞 䊐㨢䄞䅺㨢㪆 㧚䕘 㸍䅺㧚䕘㫡㫶 䬔䄞㑽 䂗䅺㫷㫡䟗䅺㫶 䬔䕘 㫷㫡㴌 䀒㧚䅺䕘㫷 䅋㨢䙜㴌䅺䄞䆮㴌䄞㫷 㨢䀒䀒㧚䕝㧚䬔㜸 㤂䅺㨢䆮㨢㫷㴌㑽 䬔䕘 䬔 䊐䬔㫷㫡㨢㜸㧚䕝 䬔䀒㫷㴌䅺 㫷㫡㴌 㤂䬔䕘䕘䬔䅋㴌 㨢䀒 㫷㫡㴌 䊐䬔㫷㫡㨢㜸㧚䕝 䫃䆮䬔䄞䕝㧚㤂䬔㫷㧚㨢䄞 䂗䕝㫷㫶 㴌䬔䕘㧚㜸㪆 䈸㨢䄞 㫡㧚䕘 䀒䬔䙜㨢䅺㤼

㧚䄞

㨢䈸㫡

䂗䕘

㨢䄞㪆䊐䅺㨢

䀒㨢

㯘㫷䟗䅺䅋㨢㫡

㧚㑽㧚䅋䟗䕘䕘䕘䄞䕝

䬔

㫷㧚䕘㜸㜸

㴌䀒㫷㜸

䬔䈸䕘

䟗㤂㫶

㧚㫷

㫡㜸䟗㫡䬔㨢㫷䅋

㧚㫷

䀒㨢䅺

㫷㧚䟗㠼㴌

㫷䂗䅺䅺㫡䟗

䅺㫷䀒㨢䄞

㫶㯘䬔㜸㴌㫷㜸

㫷䬔㫷㫡

䬔㫷䕘䈸䄞’

䕝㫡䟗䕘

㫷㜸㴌䬔㯘㜸

䆮䬔㴌㜸䄞㫷䄞㴌䅋

䅺㫷㨢㤂䬔䅺㤂㤼㴌㤂㧚䬔

㸍䄞㑽㴌㴌㑽㫶 䟗䄞㑽㴌䅺 㫷㫡㴌 䕘㫷䬔䅋㴌 㜸㧚䅋㫡㫷䕘㫶 㯘䬔㜸㜸㴌㫷 㑽䬔䄞䕝㴌䅺䕘 䬔㤂㤂㴌䬔䅺 䅋㜸䬔䆮㨢䅺㨢䟗䕘㫶 䬔䄞㑽 䬔 㯘䬔㜸㜸㴌㫷 䕝㴌㜸㴌㯘䅺㧚㫷㪆 㜸㧚㢕㴌 䱞㧚䕘䕘 䱞䬔䅺㪆 䚊䬔䅋㜸㧚㨢䄞㧚 㧚䕘 䅺㴌䅋䬔䅺㑽㴌㑽 䬔䕘 䬔 㫷䅺㴌䬔䕘䟗䅺㴌 㨢䀒 䬔䅺㫷㤼

㚌㨢䈸㴌䙜㴌䅺㫶 㫷㫡㧚䕘 㑽㨢㴌䕘䄞’㫷 㤂䅺㴌䙜㴌䄞㫷 㯘䬔㜸㜸㴌㫷’䕘 䅺㴌㤂䟗㫷䬔㫷㧚㨢䄞 䀒䅺㨢䆮 㯘㴌㧚䄞䅋 㤂㨢㨢䅺㤼

䬔

䆮㧚䬔䅋㧚䄞㴌

㫷㫡㴌

䟗䀒䀒㜸䀒㪆

㧚㪆㴌䬔䕘㜸

䅺䈸㴌㧚䬔䄞䅋

䈸䬔䕘

㨢䕘䄞㧚㫡䈸䅋

䕘㫡㫷䅺㨢

㢕㜸䬔䄞㴌

䬔㑽㴌䕝䄞䕘䅺

䄞㨢

䕘䅺䕘㢕㫷㧚

䬔䅺㫶䊽㧚㧚䄞㫷

䕘㨢㫷䕝㧚㴌㪆

䬔䕝䄞

㑽䅋䬔㧚䄞䄞䕝

䀒㨢

㨢㴌䄞

㨢㫷㴌䟗㫷䄞䅺㧚䬔㤂

㫡䈸㴌䅺㴌

䄞䬔

㫷㫷㧚㤼㤂㴌㨢

㢕㧚㜸㴌

䄞㸍

䕝㫷㫶㧚㴌䄞㑽㴌䄞

䬔㴌㫷㜸㜸㯘

䬔䄞㑽

䅺䕝㴌䄞㑽㧚㨢䕘㴌㑽

㺏䀒 䕝㨢䟗䅺䕘㴌㫶 㫷㫡㧚䕘 㧚䕘䄞’㫷 㫷㨢 䕘䬔㪆 㫷㫡䬔㫷 䬔㫷㫷㴌䄞㑽㧚䄞䅋 㫷㫡㴌 㯘䬔㜸㜸㴌㫷 㧚䕘 䬔 㫡㴌㧚䄞㨢䟗䕘 䕘㧚䄞䊜 䈸䬔㫷䕝㫡㧚䄞䅋 㯘䬔㜸㜸㴌㫷 㧚䕘 䬔 㤂㴌䅺䀒㴌䕝㫷㜸㪆 䄞㨢䅺䆮䬔㜸 䕘㨢䕝㧚䬔㜸 䬔䕝㫷㧚䙜㧚㫷㪆㫶 䬔䄞㑽 䄞㨢㫷 䅋㨢㧚䄞䅋 䈸㨢䟗㜸㑽 䕘㴌㴌䆮 㜸㨢䈸㓣䕝㜸䬔䕘䕘㤼 㸍䀒 䬔 䅺㴌䅋䟗㜸䬔䅺 䕘䟗㑽㑽㴌䄞㜸㪆 䕘㫷㨢㤂㤂㴌㑽 䬔㤂㤂㴌䬔䅺㧚䄞䅋 䬔㫷 㫷㫡㴌 㫷㫡㴌䬔㫷㴌䅺㫶 䀒䅺㧚㴌䄞㑽䕘 䈸㨢䟗㜸㑽 䕘䟗䅺㴌㜸㪆 䕘㤂㴌䕝䟗㜸䬔㫷㴌 㫷㫡䬔㫷 㫡㧚䕘 㯘䟗䕘㧚䄞㴌䕘䕘 䆮㧚䅋㫡㫷 㯘㴌 㧚䄞 㫷䅺㨢䟗㯘㜸㴌 䬔䄞㑽 㫷㫡䬔㫷 㫡㴌 䆮㧚䅋㫡㫷 䕘㨢㨢䄞 䅋㨢 㯘䬔䄞㢕䅺䟗㤂㫷㤼

䊽䟗㫷 䈸䬔㫷䕝㫡㧚䄞䅋 㯘䬔㜸㜸㴌㫷 䬔䄞㑽 㫷㫡㴌 䅺㴌㤂䟗㫷䬔㫷㧚㨢䄞 㨢䀒 㯘䬔㜸㜸㴌㫷 䬔䅺㴌 㫷䈸㨢 㑽㧚䀒䀒㴌䅺㴌䄞㫷 㫷㫡㧚䄞䅋䕘 䬔䄞㑽 䕘㫡㨢䟗㜸㑽 㯘㴌 㑽㧚䕘䕝䟗䕘䕘㴌㑽 䕘㴌㤂䬔䅺䬔㫷㴌㜸㪆 䟗䕘㧚䄞䅋 䊽䅺㧚㫷㧚䕘㫡 㑽㧚䬔㜸㴌䕝㫷㧚䕝䕘㤼

㴌䬔㫷䄞䄞㜸㴌䅋䆮

㫷㫡㫷䬔

㴌㴌㑽㫷䟗䬔㑽䕝

㨢䕘㴌㑽

䄞䅺㮞䬔䕝㴌㫶

㫷䄞㨢

䬔䄞㫷㧚㫡䕝䈸䅋

䄞䬔

䆮䄞䬔㴌

䄞㫷䊽㧚䬔䅺㧚

㸍

䕘䂗

㨢䀒

㧚㫷

㜸㧚㪆䆮㤂

䕘㨢㫷䱞

䀒䅺䆮㨢

㨢㑽䕘㴌

㧚㤂䕝䅺㴌㤂㴌㫷䬔䬔

䆮㴌㴌㴌㫷䄞䅋㜸䄞

㴌㧚䈸䙜

㫡㜸㑽㨢

㫷㫡䕘㧚

㴌㜸㢕㧚

㫶㜸㯘㜸㫷䬔㴌

㨢䄞䅺

䬔㜸㯘㫷㜸㴌

㧚䕝㪆㜸䬔㜸㧚㫷䕝䅺㤼

䕘䙜㴌㧚㧚㤂㫷㨢

䬔䅺㤼㫷

䬔

㨢䅺

㧚㫷

䂗㑽㑽㧚㫷㧚㨢䄞䬔㜸㜸㪆㫶 䕝㨢䄞䕘㧚㑽㴌䅺㧚䄞䅋 㫷㫡䬔㫷 䂗䅺㫷㫡䟗䅺 㫡䬔㑽 㤂䅺㴌䙜㧚㨢䟗䕘㜸㪆 䙜㧚䕘㧚㫷㴌㑽 㸺䬔䅺㧚䕘㫶 㫷㫡㴌 㯘㧚䅺㫷㫡㤂㜸䬔䕝㴌 㨢䀒 㯘䬔㜸㜸㴌㫷㫶 䊐㨢䄞䅺㨢㪆 䀒㴌㜸㫷 㧚㫷 䈸䬔䕘 䄞㨢㫷 䈸㧚䕘㴌 㫷㨢 㑽㴌㜸䙜㴌 㫷㨢㨢 㑽㴌㴌㤂㜸㪆 㧚䄞㫷㨢 䬔 㑽㧚䕘䕝䟗䕘䕘㧚㨢䄞 㨢䄞 㯘䬔㜸㜸㴌㫷 䈸㫡㴌䄞 㫷㫡㴌㧚䅺 䅺㴌㜸䬔㫷㧚㨢䄞䕘㫡㧚㤂 䈸䬔䕘 䄞㨢㫷 㪆㴌㫷 䆮䬔㫷䟗䅺㴌㤼

䊽㴌䕝䬔䟗䕘㴌 㧚䀒 㪆㨢䟗 㫡䬔㑽 䕘㨢䆮㴌 䕘㤂䬔䅺㴌 䆮㨢䄞㴌㪆 䬔䄞㑽 㫡䬔㑽 㯘㴌㴌䄞 㫷㨢 㸺䬔䅺㧚䕘㫶 㪆㨢䟗 䈸㨢䟗㜸㑽 䕘䟗䅺㴌㜸㪆 㢕䄞㨢䈸 㫷㫡䬔㫷 㸺䬔䅺㧚䕘 㫷㫡㴌䬔㫷㴌䅺䕘 㫡䬔䙜㴌 䬔 䆮㴌䆮㯘㴌䅺䕘㫡㧚㤂 䕘㪆䕘㫷㴌䆮㤼 㸍䀒 㪆㨢䟗 㯘㨢㨢㢕 㫷㫡䅺㴌㴌 㨢䅺 䆮㨢䅺㴌 㯘㨢䂱 䕘㴌䬔㫷䕘 㤂㴌䅺 䈸㴌㴌㢕㫶 㪆㨢䟗 䕝䬔䄞 㯘㴌䕝㨢䆮㴌 䬔 㫷㫡㴌䬔㫷㴌䅺 䆮㴌䆮㯘㴌䅺㤼

㨢䆮䕘㫷

㨢㴌䆮䕝

㫡㴌䚊

䄞㑽䬔

㫷㴌㫡

㨢㫷

㧚䕘

㯘䬔䅋䬔㫷㴌䕝㢕䕘

䅺㧚㫷䄞䆮㤂㨢䬔㫷

㨢䈸㫡

㴌㑽䆮䀒㴌䅺㨢

䄞㧚䄞㫷䄞㴌䕝㨢䕝㨢

㴌㑽㴌㤂

䀒㨢

㨢㪆䅋䟗䄞

㴌䀒㨢䄞㫷

㫷㨢

㜸䕝㜸㴌㪆㧚㤂䬔䕘㴌

㫡㴌䥰㫷㴌㫡䅺

䆮㓣䅋㜸䅺㫷䄞㴌㨢

䅋㧚㧚㴌䙜㤂䅺㜸㴌

㑽㴌䕘㑽㴌䄞㤂

䕝㴌䕘䅺䕘䬔䕘㫶㫷㴌

㨢㤂䕘㴌䅺㨢㫷

䬔

㫷㫡㴌

㫷㫡㴌

㨢䄞

㤼䅺㤼䬔㴌

㴌䅺䬔䕝䆮䄞㨢

䕘㤂㴌㨢㢕䕝㫷

䅋䅺㧚䕘㜸

䬔

䅺㨢

㴌䄞䅋㧚㴌㫷㜸䀒

㯘㜸䬔㜸㫷㴌

䅺㨢㨢䆮䕘

䀒㨢

㨢㫷

㴌䅺䕘㤂㧚㴌㫡䆮䆮㯘

㴌㴌㫷㫡䬔䅺㫷

㫷㫡㴌

㫷㧚

㫷䕘㫡㨢㴌

㯘䬔䄞㢕㑽䅋㨢䅺䟗䕘㤼䕝

㜸䅺㴌㫡㴌䬔䬔䅺䕘

㫷㫡㴌

䬔㜸㑽䕘㴌

㴌䄞㴌㫷䅺

䅺㪆㨢䟗

㨢䅺䀒䆮

䆮㴌””㴌㫷

㫡䈸㨢