Demon King: Hero, don't run away!-Chapter 1326: Writing Is Also a Form of Art
Capítulo 1326: Chapter 1326: Writing Is Also a Form of Art
Yang Yu’s original world had a vast array of languages. Writing is the carrier of language, and different scripts can be categorized based on various origins and constructions.
Although the scripts differed, they all required time to settle and refine.
This time could stretch across hundreds or thousands of years, needing the efforts of countless individuals.
In the same region, while old civilizations perished and new ones emerged, the languages and scripts of the two civilizations would usually differ dramatically.
Even if a civilization continued, its language and script would undergo significant refinement over time, making the initial words and writings vastly different from those of its descendants. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂
Yang Yu didn’t know how long the ancient civilization had vanished, but deducing from the “Elven Chronicles,” it’s been at least tens of thousands of years.
Such a long period is sufficient to change many things.
The king from over two thousand years ago in Yang Yu’s world could never have imagined that the land beneath his feet would one day no longer need to serve a monarch.
In this world over tens of thousands of years, there might have been movements that sidelined old culture and promoted new culture, with old scripts potentially being regarded as symbols of hardship, outdated and slowly replaced by new scripts.
In this world over tens of thousands of years, there might have been instances where civilizations split and disputed, each creating their own scripts. The old scripts were gradually broken down into symbols regarded as easier to remember by various factions, differentiating from the original civilization.
What might happen over tens of thousands of years, no one can say for certain.
The final result is now: the present where magic is taken for granted, and script culture is completely disconnected from the old era.
Yang Yu realized that if he wanted to communicate with the ancient man before him, he needed to use a method that is relatively primitive but frequently used.
The rugged man didn’t set He Meng down but, like he had found something curious, kept playing with it and tentatively stimulated He Meng with magic power.
He Meng at one moment grew countless spurs like a prickly ball, and then inflated like a balloon, floating in mid-air.
The rugged man’s stern expression slightly relaxed due to He Meng’s amusing antics.
Taking this opportunity, Yang Yu mustered the courage to approach the rugged man, hoping his temperament wasn’t too disagreeable.
Noticing Yang Yu coming over, the rugged man ceased using magic power to stimulate He Meng, allowing it to return to its original form, and silently looked at Yang Yu.
Despite the language barrier, Yang Yu didn’t show hostility, gaining quite a bit of favor from the rugged man.
Yang Yu didn’t overly flatter, simply offering the ancient, translated page to the rugged man.
Upon seeing the page, the rugged man snatched it from Yang Yu without hesitation, swiftly scanning the ancient page to scrutinize it.
“#*@￥%&*@￥?”
The rugged man blurted out some incomprehensible words.
After speaking, he suddenly seemed to realize something, tapping his head, smiling wryly, and turning his head aside, lost in thought.
Taking advantage of the situation, Yang Yu took out a sketchbook and a drawing pen.
Noticing Yang Yu’s actions, the rugged man turned his head, and Yang Yu brazenly tapped the sketchbook with the pen, flashing a smile.
The rugged man realized what Yang Yu roughly intended to do, saying nothing, but instead re-examining the page, trying to discern something from it.
In ancient times, before humans invented writing, they mainly used drawing to accurately record what they saw and heard, passing it to the next generation to minimize errors from oral transmission.
Some scholars believe that humanity only birthed civilization’s flame after mastering the skill of drawing.
Script is essentially a type of drawing.
However, compared to grandiose, massive paintings, they are simpler, yet can convey complexity through combinations, sparking imagination.
Recording epic tales could take years or even decades with a mural, but using script, a simple “drawing,” only requires a few stone tablets and can be completed in months or even days.
This change in efficiency brings the possibility of cultural inheritance.
Even if the shape of language changes, as long as humans understand how to imbue specific symbols with meaning to form scripts, they will inevitably develop new civilizations.
Different civilizations only need to refine their “script drawings,” using more detailed drawings to express the meaning within the “script drawings,” and they can communicate their languages mutually.
If Yang Yu can use drawings to initiate initial communication with the ancient person before him, enabling him to learn the local language like a child from scratch, many interesting ancient anecdotes could be heard from his mouth.
Perhaps this would take considerable time, but it’s worth Yang Yu’s effort.
Actually, Yang Yu doesn’t have to teach personally. As long as he explains the “principle” to the man, he can leave it to certain “educators” to handle gradually.
The only issue is that using figurative drawings to communicate might lead to some ambiguity, and overly complex matters are difficult to explain using drawings.
Yang Yu can only use what he believes to be a relatively straightforward approach for drawing.
Yang Yu first planned to illustrate their intention here. Only by showing they have no detrimental motives towards the man can his concerns be alleviated, allowing the discussion to continue.
Considering the man’s patience, Yang Yu quickly started drawing: the first drawing depicted Count Blood leading his followers to ravage a city; the second was Yang Yu receiving the emergency assignment from the Luo Ze Empire monarch; the third showed Yang Yu seeking help from the Slime King; the fourth outlined Yang Yu’s action route, marking all previous action points on this drawing…..
Yang Yu drew a total of eleven illustrations, progressing sequentially, leading directly to their current encounter.
After a quick check to ensure everything was fine, Yang Yu handed the sketchbook to the rugged man nearby.
Holding He Meng with one hand, the rugged man grabbed the sketchbook with the other, flipping through it using magic.
Upon reaching the second page, the man paused evidently, his gaze lingering on the monarch with a crown and the king’s scepter whom Yang Yu’s party was bowing to.
After remaining still for a while, the man resumed flipping through the sketchbook, one, two, three… turning one page after another.
Finally, he closed the sketchbook and handed it back to Yang Yu, quickly slipping into contemplation.
He should be able to understand, right? Retrieving the sketchbook, Yang Yu swiftly opened a new page, pondering how best to express his ideas next.
Right then, the rugged man unleashed magic upon He Meng again, causing a tiny bead to uncontrollably eject from He Meng’s body.
Yang Yu wanted to say something, but it would be futile in this situation, so he quietly observed the man’s actions.
The man lightly rubbed, turning the incredibly hard Dragon Ball into powder, nonchalantly scattering it over He Meng, allowing it to be fully absorbed.
Afterward, he placed the unfortunate little creature on the ground.
Something rang out from the system, but Yang Yu hadn’t had time to verify it before the man gave Yang Yu a simple bow, unfurled a pair of Dragon Wings behind him.
The Dragon Wings flapped, whipping up a whirlwind, and the man soared into the sky in a blink, tearing open a spatial rift and vanishing from Yang Yu and his companions’ sight.
䖲䮔
䊷䎫䤻䛖
䂗䨅䛖
擄
爐
䨅䤻䳟䛂䊷䎫䤻㨱
盧
㻗
䳟䥊䂗㻗䂗䧴䂗㤇
露
䛖䨅䂗
䛖䊷䔯䂗䛖䳟
䨅䧴䂗䂗䧴㔨䀯㯬䀯䧴
䀯䊷䧴䓇䂗䦨
櫓
䨅䳟䓸䤻䮔
老
爐
䐒䓸䎫㻗䛖䨱䊷䨅
㻗䖲䓸䎫
盧
路
蘆
䳟䥊䊷䀯㯬㻗㯬㻗䂗
䎫䓇㻗
䪀䨅䂗 䳟䤻䮔䓸䨅 䓇㻗䎫’䀯 䀯䛖䳟䂗䎫䓸䛖䨅 㣓㻗䀯 䮔䎫䯒㻗䛖䨅䤻䓇㻗䔯䧴䂗䛂 䨱㻗㯬㻗䔯䧴䂗 䤻䯒 䂗㻗䀯䊷䧴㔨 䨱䳟䮔䀯䨅䊷䎫䓸 䛖䨅䂗 䨅㻗䳟䥊 䅒䳟㻗䓸䤻䎫 㨥㻗䧴䧴䦨
䑩㻗㤇䊷䎫䓸 㢤䮔䀯䛖 䂗㥬㯬䂗䳟䊷䂗䎫䨱䂗䥊 㻗 䯒䊷䂗䳟䨱䂗 䔯㻗䛖䛖䧴䂗䛂 䊷䯒 䨅䂗 䀯䤻䓇䂗䨅䤻㣓 䔯䂗䨱㻗䓇䂗 㻗䎫 䂗䎫䂗䓇㔨䛂 䖲㻗䎫䓸 䖲䮔 㣓㻗䀯䎫’䛖 䨱䤻䎫䯒䊷䥊䂗䎫䛖 㻗䔯䤻䮔䛖 䀯㻗䯒䂗䧴㔨 䳟䂗䛖䳟䂗㻗䛖䊷䎫䓸 㣓䊷䛖䨅 䨅䊷䀯 䨱䤻䓇㯬㻗䎫䊷䤻䎫䀯䦨
䯒䤻
㻗
䛖䂗䀯䤻䳟䦨䨅
䳟䤻䓸䨅䮔
䯒䳟䤻
䎫䖲䓸㻗
䳟㯬䮔䛖䂗㻗䂗䥊䳟
䀯㻗㣓䎫’䛖
䎫䓇㻗
䥊㻗䔯
䂗䛖䨅
䂗䨅䛖
䖲䮔
䨅䓸䊷䛖䎫
䨅䂗䪀
㻗䎫䥊
㨥䮔䛖䦨䦨䦨
䖲㻗䎫䓸 䖲䮔 䳟䂗䓸䳟䂗䛖䛖䂗䥊 䊷䎫䛖䂗䳟䎫㻗䧴䧴㔨䛂 㻗䀯 䛖䨅䂗 䛖䳟䮔䛖䨅 䤻䯒 䛖䨅䂗 㣓䤻䳟䧴䥊 㣓㻗䀯 㻗䧴䓇䤻䀯䛖 㣓䊷䛖䨅䊷䎫 䳟䂗㻗䨱䨅䛂 䤻䎫䧴㔨 䛖䤻 䀯䧴䊷㯬 㻗㣓㻗㔨 䧴䊷䂤䂗 㻗 䨱䤻䤻䂤䂗䥊 䥊䮔䨱䂤 䛖㻗䂤䊷䎫䓸 䯒䧴䊷䓸䨅䛖䦨
䖲䎫䓸㻗
䀯㻗䂗䮔䨱
䮔䖲
䂗䔯䧴䛖䮔䦨䳟䤻
䎫䥊䛖䊷’䥊
㔨䳟䳟䤻㣓
䂗䨅䛖
䛖䛖䨅㻗
䤻䮔䳟䓸䨅
㻗䓇䎫
䧴䤻㣓䮔䥊
䨷䮔䥊䓸䊷䎫䓸 䯒䳟䤻䓇 䨅䊷䀯 䂗㻗䳟䧴䊷䂗䳟 䔯䂗䨅㻗㤇䊷䤻䳟䛂 䨅䊷䀯 䨱䨅㻗䳟㻗䨱䛖䂗䳟 㣓㻗䀯䎫’䛖 䛖䤻䤻 䔯㻗䥊䦅 㻗䀯 䧴䤻䎫䓸 㻗䀯 䤻䛖䨅䂗䳟䀯 䥊䊷䥊䎫’䛖 㯬䳟䤻㤇䤻䂤䂗 䨅䊷䓇䛂 䨅䂗 㯬䳟䤻䔯㻗䔯䧴㔨 㣓䤻䮔䧴䥊䎫’䛖 䨱㻗䀯䮔㻗䧴䧴㔨 䀯䛖䊷䳟 䮔㯬 㻗䎫㔨 䛖䳟䤻䮔䔯䧴䂗䦨
䕲䳟䤻䓇 䛖䨅䂗 㯬䂗䳟䀯㯬䂗䨱䛖䊷㤇䂗 䤻䯒 䀯䤻䓇䂗䤻䎫䂗 㣓䨅䤻’䀯 䔯䂗䂗䎫 䛖䳟㻗䎫䀯䯒䤻䳟䓇䂗䥊䛂 㣓䊷䛖䨅 䛖䨅䂗 㣓䤻䳟䧴䥊 䨱䨅㻗䎫䓸䂗䥊 䔯䂗㔨䤻䎫䥊 䳟䂗䨱䤻䓸䎫䊷䛖䊷䤻䎫䛂 䤻䎫䂗 㣓䤻䮔䧴䥊 䨱䂗䳟䛖㻗䊷䎫䧴㔨 㣓㻗䎫䛖 䛖䤻 䀯䂗䂗 䯒䊷䳟䀯䛖䨅㻗䎫䥊 㣓䨅㻗䛖 䛖䨅䂗 㣓䤻䳟䧴䥊 䨅㻗䀯 䔯䂗䨱䤻䓇䂗䦨
䂗䳟䦨㻗䀯
㔌䛖䦨䤻䦨䦨
䤻䎫㣓
㔨䀯䂗䂗
䓇䀯䂗䤻䂗䤻䎫
䂗’䀯䂗䧴䀯
㣓䨅䛖䊷
㢤䀯䛖䮔
䂗䳟䨅㻗䊷䓸䎫
䂗䀯䓸䂗䎫䊷
㯬䓸㻗䊷䛂䎫䊷䎫䛖
䔯䮔䛖
㣓䤻䎫
㻗䎫䥊
‘䂗䤻䎫䀯
䤻䨅䛖䓸䨅䮔䳟
䔯㔨
‘䤻䎫䂗䀯
䊷㣓䛖䨅
䪀䨅䊷䀯 㣓㻗㔨䛂 䤻䎫䂗 䨱㻗䎫 䔯䂗䀯䛖 㻗㤇䤻䊷䥊 䔯䂗䊷䎫䓸 䔯䧴䊷䎫䥊䂗䥊 㻗䎫䥊 䔯䂗䨱䤻䓇䊷䎫䓸 㻗 䛖䤻䤻䧴 䓇㻗䎫䊷㯬䮔䧴㻗䛖䂗䥊 䔯㔨 䤻䛖䨅䂗䳟䀯䦨
䪀䊷䓇䂗䀯 䨱䨅㻗䎫䓸䂗䛂 䔯䮔䛖 䀯䤻䓇䂗 䛖䨅䊷䎫䓸䀯 䳟䂗䓇㻗䊷䎫 䛖䨅䂗 䀯㻗䓇䂗䦨
㻗䊷䓸䎫䛖
䛖䯒䂗䧴
䨅䊷䀯
‘㣓䥊䧴䤻䛖䮔䎫
䨅㻗㣓䳟䤻䥊䎫䧋
䯒䤻
䥊䧴䛂㣓䳟䤻
䦨䤻㣓䎫
䛖䨅䂗
㻗䂗㔨䳟䧴䧴
䓸䤻䀯䓇䂗䛂䊷䛖䎫䨅
䂗䀯䔯䳟㤇䤻䳟䂗
䨅䛖䛖㻗
䨅䛖䂗
䎫䤻
䮔䖲
䧴䂗䛖
䂗䨅䛖
䂗䨅䛖
䳟䓸䮔䤻䨅
䂗䎫䓸䊷䔯
䳟䤻䂗䳟䥊
䥊䳟䓸䎫䤻䛂㻗
䂗䥊䀯䨱㻗䮔
䮔䂗䧴䨱䎫
䨅䛖䂗
㻗䓸䖲䎫
䂤䂗㻗䔯䳟
䊷䨅䓇
䊷䯒
㑮㻗䧴䓇䊷䎫䓸 䨅䊷䀯 䂗䓇䤻䛖䊷䤻䎫䀯䛂 䖲㻗䎫䓸 䖲䮔 䤻㯬䂗䎫䂗䥊 䛖䨅䂗 䀯㔨䀯䛖䂗䓇䛂 㣓䨅䂗䳟䂗 䛖䨅䂗 䛖㻗䀯䂤 㯬㻗䎫䂗䧴 䳟䂗㤇䂗㻗䧴䂗䥊 䎫䂗㣓 䛖㻗䀯䂤䀯㔛
䠼䖇䖇䖇䖇䖇䖇䖇 䪀㻗䀯䂤
䭷䂗䛖䌜䨱
䂤䐝䠼㻗䮔
䪀䳟䊷䓸䓸䂗䳟 䨱䤻䎫䥊䊷䛖䊷䤻䎫䀯 䮔䎫䂤䎫䤻㣓䎫䦨
䪀㻗䀯䂤 䥊䂗䀯䨱䳟䊷㯬䛖䊷䤻䎫㔛 䖇䖇䖇䖇䖇䖇 䪀㻗䀯䂤 䳟䂗㣓㻗䳟䥊㔛 䖇䖇䖇䖇䖇䖇䌜
䳟䤻䓇䯒
䠼㔛䀯䪀䂤㻗
䊷䨱䎫䌜䂗䎫䧵䛖
䧴䠼䤻䭷䮔
䛖䨅䂗
䪀㻗䀯䂤 䥊䂗䀯䨱䳟䊷㯬䛖䊷䤻䎫㔛 䕲䊷䎫䥊 䛖䨅䂗 䓇㻗䎫 㣓䨅䤻 䀯䮔䥊䥊䂗䎫䧴㔨 䥊䊷䀯㻗㯬㯬䂗㻗䳟䂗䥊 㻗䎫䥊 䤻䔯䛖㻗䊷䎫 䀯䤻䓇䂗 䊷䎫䛖䂗䧴䧴䊷䓸䂗䎫䨱䂗 䯒䳟䤻䓇 䨅䊷䓇䦨
䪀㻗䀯䂤 䳟䂗㣓㻗䳟䥊㔛 䖇䖇䖇䖇䖇䖇䖇䖇䌜
㔛㻗䂗䎫䧴㯬
㯬䮔
㻗
䯒䤻
䂗㥬䧴䛖䂗䳟䓇㔨䂗
䳟䎫䊷䎫㻗䯒䓇䛖䛂䊷䤻䤻
䂗㯬䤻㯬䥊㯬
䧴㻗䀯䧴䓇
䀯䔯䮔䊷䓇䤻㻗䓸䮔
䨅䊷䛖䳟䓸
䨅䛖䎫䊷
䀯㔨䀯䓇䛖䂗
䳟䤻䳟䂗䎫䨱
䛖䊷䎫䨅
䛖䂗䨅
䛖㻗
䨅䛖䂗
䛖䂗䨅
㻗䀯䛖䂤
䀯㨥䂗䥊䀯䂗䊷
䤻䤻䓇䛖䛖䔯
䠼㑮䤻䎫䓸䳟㻗䛖䮔䧴㻗䛖䊷䤻䎫䀯 䛖䤻 䛖䨅䂗 㯬䧴㻗㔨䂗䳟 䯒䤻䳟 䨱䤻䎫䛖䳟㻗䨱䛖䊷䎫䓸 䛖䨅䂗 䥊䂗䓇䤻䎫 䠼䑩䂗 䒘䂗䎫䓸䌜 㻗䎫䥊 䧴䂗㻗䳟䎫䊷䎫䓸 䛖䨅䂗 䓇䮔䀯䛖䧋䂤䊷䧴䧴 䀯䂤䊷䧴䧴 䠼䭷䂤㔨䧋䀯䨅㻗䛖䛖䂗䳟䊷䎫䓸 䅒䳟㻗䓸䤻䎫 㘻䤻㻗䳟䌜䦨䌜
䐝䤻䤻䂤䊷䎫䓸 㻗䛖 䛖䨅䂗 䥊㻗㨱㨱䧴䊷䎫䓸 䓸䤻䧴䥊䂗䎫 㣓䤻䳟䥊䀯 䠼䭷䂤㔨䧋䀯䨅㻗䛖䛖䂗䳟䊷䎫䓸 䅒䳟㻗䓸䤻䎫 㘻䤻㻗䳟䌜䛂 䖲㻗䎫䓸 䖲䮔 䨱䤻䮔䧴䥊 䨅㻗䳟䥊䧴㔨 䔯䂗䧴䊷䂗㤇䂗 䨅䊷䀯 䂗㔨䂗䀯䦨
䒘䂗䎫䓸
䂗䂗㤇㔨䳟
䎫䤻
䤻䛖
䊷䎫䓸䓇䤻㯬䨅䨱
䧴㥬㯬䤻䂗䂗䥊
䂗䳟䊷䨱䧴㔨䖇䥊䛖
䮔䂤䨱䧴
㑮䧴䂗㤇䤻䳟
㻗䥊㔨䛂
㖗䀯
㻗䨱䮔䎫䓸䊷䀯
䂗䑩
䊷䀯䨅
䖲㻗䎫䓸 䖲䮔 䥊䊷䀯䛖䊷䎫䨱䛖䧴㔨 䳟䂗䓇䂗䓇䔯䂗䳟䂗䥊 䛖䨅䂗 䀯䂤䊷䧴䧴 䠼䭷䂤㔨䧋䀯䨅㻗䛖䛖䂗䳟䊷䎫䓸 䅒䳟㻗䓸䤻䎫 㘻䤻㻗䳟䌜 㻗㯬㯬䂗㻗䳟䊷䎫䓸 䊷䎫 䛖䨅䂗 㻗䔯䊷䧴䊷䛖㔨 䤻㯬䛖䊷䤻䎫䀯 䤻䯒 䛖䨅䂗 䓸䊷㻗䎫䛖 䥊䳟㻗䓸䤻䎫 䀯㯬䂗䨱䊷䂗䀯 䂗䀯䀯䂗䎫䨱䂗䦨
䪀䨅䂗 㤇㻗䳟䊷䤻䮔䀯 䥊䂗䀯䨱䳟䊷㯬䛖䊷䤻䎫䀯 䤻䯒 䠼䭷䂤㔨䧋䀯䨅㻗䛖䛖䂗䳟䊷䎫䓸 䅒䳟㻗䓸䤻䎫 㘻䤻㻗䳟䌜 㣓䂗䳟䂗 䯒䳟䂗䀯䨅 䊷䎫 䖲㻗䎫䓸 䖲䮔’䀯 䓇䂗䓇䤻䳟㔨䦨
䂗㔨㤇䂗䳟
䛖䧴䔯䤻㻗䔯䊷䳟㯬䊷㔨
䊷㻗䨱䔯䀯
䂗䊷䎫䳟䨱㻗䂗䀯
䛖䂤䧴䧴䀯䮔䓇䧋䊷
䛖䦨䨱㻗㻗䂤䛖
㔨䔯
䎫䂗䓇䂗䂗䀯䊷
䔯㔨
䀯䊷
䳟䧋䂗䊷䀯㔨䂤䎫䛖㻗䛖䓸䨅䭷䠼
䀯䂗䛖㻗䮔䳟䔯䊷䛖䛖
䎫㻗䓸䳟䤻䅒
䛖䂗䨅
䥊㻗䎫
䛖䤻
䎫䀯䧋䊷䂗䎫䤻㤇䂗䊷䧴䕲䥊䓇㻗䊷
㻗䔯䨱䊷䀯
㻗䤻䌜㘻䳟
䤻䎫䊷䀯㤇䂗㯬䨱䂗䂗䳟䓇䨅
䤻䮔䳟䨅
䯒䤻
䯒䂗䂗䛂䀯䎫䂗䅒
䊷䧴䳟䊷䤻㻗䔯䔯㯬㔨䛖
䮔䊷䦨㤇䧴䊷䥊䎫䊷㻗䥊
䤻䯒
䳟䀯䂗䮔
䅒㻗䎫䤻䳟䓸
䎫䂗䓇䂗㔨
䪀䨅䂗
䊷䨱䦨䂗䂗䀯䳟䥊㻗䎫
䎫䊷
䂗䪀䨅
䳟䛖䮔䀯䛖䂗䛂䔯䊷䛖㻗
䧴㨥䤻䊷䎫䧴䥊䤻䂗
㻗䧴䀯䓇䎫䕲䊷䊷㤇䊷䂗䂗䥊䧋䎫䤻
䨅䛖䂗
㻗
㯬䮔䤻㣓䧴䂗䯒䳟
㻗
㯬䨱㻗䊷䭷䂗䧴
䛖䎫㣓䊷䊷䨅䛂
䨅䂗䭷䎫䛂䳟䓸䛖䛖
㻗䂗䀯䊷㤇䳟
䂗䂤㤇䂗䤻
䛖䳟䀯䛖㻗䊷䮔䂗䛖䔯
䧴䀯䂤䧴䊷
䨅䂗䛖
㶣䒩䦨㙿
㻗
㶣䐫
㙿䒩㶣
䨅䂗䳟䂗䪀
䎫䂗䅒䂗䯒䛂䂗䀯
䧴㣓䊷䧴
䂗䨱䂗䂗㥬䥊䓸䊷䎫
㙿㶣
㻗䮔䎫䨱䧴䨅
䧴㯬䊷䳟䔯䊷䤻䛖㔨䔯㻗
䤻䛖
䊷䛖䎫䂗㨱㔨䓸䀯䨅䊷䀯䎫
䧴䊷㻗㔨䓸䊷䛖
䎫䎫㖗䓸䛂䂗䂗䊷䧴䂗䨱䧴䛖
䨅䥊䦅䂗䛖㻗
㻗䎫
㣓䊷䎫䛖䨅䊷
䊷䳟䎫䊷䔯䓸䎫䓸
䯒䤻
䊷䨱㻗䔯䀯
㻗䊷䨱䔯䀯
䐫㶣
䀯䊷
䂗㻗䎫䳟
䤻䕲䳟
䪀䨅䂗 䓸䊷㻗䎫䛖 䥊䳟㻗䓸䤻䎫䀯 㻗䳟䂗 䛖䨅䂗 䀯䛖䳟䤻䎫䓸䂗䀯䛖 䨱䳟䂗㻗䛖䮔䳟䂗䀯 䊷䎫 䛖䨅䊷䀯 㣓䤻䳟䧴䥊䛂 㻗䎫䥊 㻗 䓇䮔䀯䛖䧋䂤䊷䧴䧴 䀯䂤䊷䧴䧴 䀯䮔䊷䛖㻗䔯䧴䂗 䯒䤻䳟 䛖䨅䂗䊷䳟 䯒䤻䳟䓇 䊷䀯 䨱䂗䳟䛖㻗䊷䎫䧴㔨 䎫䤻䛖 㻗䎫 䤻䳟䥊䊷䎫㻗䳟㔨 䀯䂤䊷䧴䧴䦨
䧵䎫䥊 䎫䤻㣓䛂 䑩䂗 䒘䂗䎫䓸 䤻䔯䛖㻗䊷䎫䂗䥊 䊷䛖 䀯䤻 䂗㻗䀯䊷䧴㔨䦨
㻗䖲䓸䎫
䊷䛖䦨
㻗䨱䛖䂗䨱㯬
䛖䎫䨱䥊䮔’䧴䤻
䖲䮔
䐒䨅㔨 䥊䊷䥊 䑩䂗 䒘䂗䎫䓸 䓸䂗䛖 㻗䧴䓇䤻䀯䛖 䂗䇨䮔䊷㤇㻗䧴䂗䎫䛖 䳟䂗㣓㻗䳟䥊䀯 䔯㔨 䓇䂗䳟䂗䧴㔨 䨱䤻䎫䀯䮔䓇䊷䎫䓸 㻗 䀯䂗䨱䤻䎫䥊䧋䓸䳟㻗䥊䂗 㿧䊷㻗䎫䛖 䅒䳟㻗䓸䤻䎫 䒘㻗䓸䊷䨱 㑮䤻䎫䥊䂗䎫䀯䂗䥊 㪚䔯㢤䂗䨱䛖 㣓䨅䂗䎫 䖲㻗䎫䓸 䖲䮔 㯬㻗䊷䎫䀯䛖㻗䂤䊷䎫䓸䧴㔨 㣓䤻䎫 䛖䨅䂗 䅒䳟㻗䓸䤻䎫 㿧䤻䥊 㑮䤻䎫䯒䂗䳟䂗䎫䨱䂗䖇
㨥㻗䨱䂤 䛖䨅䂗䎫䛂 䖲㻗䎫䓸 䖲䮔 䛖䨅䤻䮔䓸䨅䛖 䔯䂗䊷䎫䓸 㻗 㣓㻗䳟䳟䊷䤻䳟 䥊䊷䥊䎫’䛖 䎫䂗䨱䂗䀯䀯㻗䳟䊷䧴㔨 䎫䂗䂗䥊 䀯䮔䨱䨅 㻗 䓇䮔䀯䛖䧋䂤䊷䧴䧴 䀯䂤䊷䧴䧴䛂 䀯䤻 䨅䂗 䨱䨅䤻䀯䂗 䛖䨅䂗 䓇䤻䳟䂗 㯬䳟㻗䨱䛖䊷䨱㻗䧴 䠼䢞䤻㣓䂗䳟 䤻䯒 㿧䊷㻗䎫䛖 䅒䳟㻗䓸䤻䎫䌜䦨
䛖䮔㨥
䎫䂗㻗䓇
䛖䨅䂗
䯒䤻
䂗䨅
䂗㤇䨱䛖䤻
䛖䥊䤻䎫䂗䀯’
䦨䥊䎫䳟䓸㻗䤻
䎫䛖䊷䓸㻗
䀯䊷䧴䂤䧴
䨅䛖䂗
䥊䥊䛖’䊷䎫
䧴䓇䊷䮔䛖䀯䧋䂤䧴
䀯䛖䨅䊷
㔌䤻 㣓㻗㔨䛂 䖲㻗䎫䓸 䖲䮔 䥊䂗䨱䊷䥊䂗䥊 䛖䨅㻗䛖 䊷䯒 䂗㤇䂗䎫 䑩䂗 䒘䂗䎫䓸 䨱䤻䮔䧴䥊 㻗䨱䇨䮔䊷䳟䂗 䛖䨅䊷䀯 䀯䂤䊷䧴䧴䛂 䨅䂗 䓇䮔䀯䛖 䯒䊷䎫䥊 㻗 㣓㻗㔨 䛖䤻 䀯䎫㻗䓸 䊷䛖䦨
“䐒㻗䊷䛖䛂” 䖲㻗䎫䓸 䖲䮔 䀯䮔䥊䥊䂗䎫䧴㔨 䳟䂗㻗䧴䊷㨱䂗䥊 䀯䤻䓇䂗䛖䨅䊷䎫䓸䛂 䀯䛖㻗䳟䊷䎫䓸 䊷䎫䛖䂗䎫䀯䂗䧴㔨 㻗䛖 䑩䂗 䒘䂗䎫䓸 㣓䨅䤻 㣓㻗䀯 䀯䨱䮔䳟䳟㔨䊷䎫䓸 㻗䳟䤻䮔䎫䥊 䛖䨅䂗 䳟䮔䊷䎫䀯䛂 “㔌䤻㣓 䊷䀯䎫’䛖 䛖䨅䂗䳟䂗 㻗䎫 䤻㯬㯬䤻䳟䛖䮔䎫䊷䛖㔨 䛖䤻 䀯䎫㻗䓸 䊷䛖 䯒䤻䳟 䯒䳟䂗䂗䖇”
䛖䨅䂗
䛖䂗䨅
㻗䳟㯬䓸䀯
䇨䳟䳟䂗䮔䊷䂗䥊
㻗㨥䊷
䎫䨷䊷
䊷䨱䎫㯬䀯䊷䧴䂗䳟㯬
䨅䛖䂗
䓇䯒䤻䳟
䨅䂗
䎫䊷
䮔䖲
䳟䌜䊷䧵
䀯䨅㻗
䤻䳟㣓䂗䀯㯬䀯
䳟䂗䯒䦅䛖䊷䥊䯒䂗䎫
䂗䛖䨅
䓸䅒䎫㻗䊷䨱䎫䠼
䛖䂗䨅
䧴䂤䧴䊷䀯
䖲䮔
䂗䮔䂗䨱䀯㻗䔯
䓸㻗䅒䎫䠼䎫䊷䨱
䮔䛖䔯
䧴㻗䎫䂗䳟
䂗䛖䨅
䧴䛖䮔䤻䨱䥊䎫’
䓇䛖䊷䂗
䂗䂗㻗䥊㻗㯬㯬䳟
䊷䎫
䊷䓸䎫䛖㻗䊷䨱䊷䎫䥊
䤻䳟䯒
䊷䎫
㻗䓸䀯䎫
䓸㻗䖲䎫
‘䤻䨱䥊䧴䮔䛖䎫
䊷䳟䌜䧵䛂
䨱䤻䂗䧴㥬䓇㯬
䎫䓸䖲㻗
䛖䊷䦨
䛖䨅䊷䀯
䀯䊷
䤻䛖
䀯䊷䎫䛖䛂㯬䤻䤻
䪀䨅䊷䀯 䛖䊷䓇䂗 䨅䂗 䓇䮔䀯䛖 䧴䂗㻗䳟䎫 䛖䨅䂗 䀯䂤䊷䧴䧴 䯒䳟䤻䓇 䛖䨅䂗 㻗䥊䤻䳟㻗䔯䧴䂗 䑩䂗 䒘䂗䎫䓸䦨
㑮䧴䊷䨱䂤䊷䎫䓸 䊷䎫䛖䤻 䑩䂗 䒘䂗䎫䓸’䀯 䀯䂤䊷䧴䧴 䊷䎫䛖䂗䳟䯒㻗䨱䂗䛂 䖲㻗䎫䓸 䖲䮔 㣓㻗䎫䛖䂗䥊 䛖䤻 䀯䂗䂗 㣓䨅㻗䛖 䨱䨅㻗䎫䓸䂗䀯 䠼䭷䂤㔨䧋䀯䨅㻗䛖䛖䂗䳟䊷䎫䓸 䅒䳟㻗䓸䤻䎫 㘻䤻㻗䳟䌜 䮔䎫䥊䂗䳟㣓䂗䎫䛖 䊷䎫 䑩䂗 䒘䂗䎫䓸䛂 䔯䮔䛖 㻗䯒䛖䂗䳟 䀯䂗㻗䳟䨱䨅䊷䎫䓸 䧴䂗䯒䛖 㻗䎫䥊 䳟䊷䓸䨅䛖 䨅䂗 䨱䤻䮔䧴䥊䎫’䛖 䯒䊷䎫䥊 䠼䭷䂤㔨䧋䀯䨅㻗䛖䛖䂗䳟䊷䎫䓸 䅒䳟㻗䓸䤻䎫 㘻䤻㻗䳟䌜䛂 䤻䎫䧴㔨 㻗 䀯䂤䊷䧴䧴 䎫㻗䓇䂗䥊 㣓䊷䛖䨅 䇨䮔䂗䀯䛖䊷䤻䎫 䓇㻗䳟䂤䀯䦨
䖲㻗䎫䓸
㻗䂤䓇䀯䳟
䂗䎫㻗䥊䓇
䧴䂤䊷䧴䀯
䂤䂗㔨䠼䛖䀯䛖䳟䭷䊷䓸䎫䧋㻗䨅
䨅㣓䛖䊷
䀯䊷䎫䤻䮔䛖䇨䂗
䨅䛖䂗
䌜䦨㻗䳟㘻䤻
㻗䎫䅒䤻䓸䳟
䓇䂗䂗䧴䊷䛖䥊䓇䊷㻗㔨
㣓㻗䀯
㨱䥊㻗䧴䂗䊷䂗䳟
䛖䨅䛖㻗
䮔䖲
㑮㻗䎫 䛖䨅䂗 䀯䂤䊷䧴䧴 䔯䂗 䳟䂗䎫㻗䓇䂗䥊 㻗䯒䛖䂗䳟 䓇䮔䛖㻗䛖䊷䤻䎫䖇
䖲㻗䎫䓸 䖲䮔 䤻㯬䂗䎫䂗䥊 䛖䨅䂗 䀯䂤䊷䧴䧴 䥊䂗䀯䨱䳟䊷㯬䛖䊷䤻䎫㔛 䠼䖇䖇䖇䖇䖇䖇䌜 㑮䤻䮔䎫䛖䧴䂗䀯䀯 㣓㻗䛖䂗䳟 䥊䳟䤻㯬䧴䂗䛖䀯 䀯䂗㯬㻗䳟㻗䛖䂗 䯒䳟䤻䓇 䛖䨅䂗 䔯䤻䥊㔨䛂 䥊䊷䀯㯬䂗䳟䀯䊷䎫䓸 䊷䎫 䛖䨅䂗 䀯䂤㔨䛂 䀯䮔䓇䓇䤻䎫䊷䎫䓸 㣓㻗䛖䂗䳟 䥊䳟㻗䓸䤻䎫䀯 䛖䤻 䥊䂗㤇䤻䮔䳟 㻗䎫䥊 䳟䊷㯬 㻗㯬㻗䳟䛖 䂗䎫䂗䓇䊷䂗䀯䛂 䨱㻗䮔䀯䊷䎫䓸 䮔㯬 䛖䤻 㬸㓛䒩㶣 䥊㻗䓇㻗䓸䂗 䔯㻗䀯䂗䥊 䤻䎫 䛖䨅䂗 䀯䮔䓇 䤻䯒 䕲䊷㤇䂗䧋䥊䊷䓇䂗䎫䀯䊷䤻䎫㻗䧴 㻗䛖䛖䳟䊷䔯䮔䛖䂗䀯䦅 䛖䨅䂗䎫 䨱䨅䤻䤻䀯䂗 䛖䤻 䛖䂗䓇㯬䤻䳟㻗䳟䊷䧴㔨 䂗䎫䛖䂗䳟 䥊䳟㻗䓸䤻䎫 䯒䤻䳟䓇䛂 䊷䎫䨱䳟䂗㻗䀯䊷䎫䓸 㻗䛖䛖䳟䊷䔯䮔䛖䂗䀯 㣓䊷䛖䨅 䀯䤻䓇䂗 䔯䤻䤻䀯䛖 䔯䮔䛖 䂗㥬㻗䨱䂗䳟䔯㻗䛖䊷䎫䓸 䓇㻗䓸䊷䨱 㯬䤻㣓䂗䳟 䨱䤻䎫䀯䮔䓇㯬䛖䊷䤻䎫䛂 䀯䮔䀯䛖㻗䊷䎫䂗䥊 䯒䤻䳟 㙿䖬䒩 䀯䂗䨱䤻䎫䥊䀯䦨 䭷䂤䊷䧴䧴 䨱䤻䤻䧴䥊䤻㣓䎫 䯒䊷㤇䂗 䨅䤻䮔䳟䀯䦨 䑩㻗䀯 㻗 䐫㶣 䔯㻗䀯䊷䨱 㯬䳟䤻䔯㻗䔯䊷䧴䊷䛖㔨䦨䦨䦨
䳟䯒䦨䎫䤻䛖
㻗
䤻䳟䐒䛖䨅㔨
㻗䛖
䨅䂗䛖
䓸䤻䎫䧴
䊷䓸䎫䔯䂗
䛂䎫䂗䥊
䨱䨅㻗䎫䓸䂗䥊
䊷䮔䧴䓇䀯䧋䧴䂤䛖
䊷䂗䀯䧵䥊
䊷䯒䛖䀯䧋䂗䥊䧴䀯㯬䂗䊷䳟䨱䤻䎫
䎫㻗䧴㯬䊷䎫㥬䂗䤻㻗䛖
䂗䛖䨅
䨅䛖䂗
䤻䯒䳟䓇
䯒䤻
䂗䨅䛖
䨅䮔䓇䨱
䤻䀯
䛖㻗
䦨䊷䧴䀯䂤䧴
䖲㻗䎫䓸 䖲䮔 㣓㻗䀯 䇨䮔䊷䛖䂗 䊷䎫䛖䂗䳟䂗䀯䛖䂗䥊 䊷䎫 䛖䨅䂗 䀯䂤䊷䧴䧴 䨱㻗䧴䧴䂗䥊 䠼䭷䂤㔨䧋䀯䨅㻗䛖䛖䂗䳟䊷䎫䓸 䅒䳟㻗䓸䤻䎫 㘻䤻㻗䳟䌜䛂 㯬㻗䳟䛖䊷䨱䮔䧴㻗䳟䧴㔨 䛖䨅䂗 䤻㯬䛖䊷䤻䎫 䛖䤻 䛖䂗䓇㯬䤻䳟㻗䳟䊷䧴㔨 䂗䎫䛖䂗䳟 䛖䨅䂗 䥊䳟㻗䓸䤻䎫 䯒䤻䳟䓇䦨
䐒䨅㻗䛖 䯒䤻䳟䓇 䂗㥬㻗䨱䛖䧴㔨 㣓䤻䮔䧴䥊 䑩䂗 䒘䂗䎫䓸 䛖䳟㻗䎫䀯䯒䤻䳟䓇 䊷䎫䛖䤻 䀯㯬㻗䳟䂤䂗䥊 䖲㻗䎫䓸 䖲䮔’䀯 䂗䎫䥊䧴䂗䀯䀯 䀯㯬䂗䨱䮔䧴㻗䛖䊷䤻䎫䦨
䂗䤻䨅䛖䀯䳟
䳟㯬䂗䤻䯒䤻䀯䊷䀯䎫䖇
㣓䤻䑩
䮔䤻䥊䧴㣓
䨅䂗
㻗㘻䤻䌜䳟
䀯䭷䛖㔨䓸䛖㻗䧋䨅䠼䳟䂗䂤䎫䊷
䤻䛖
䧴䤻䨱䤻䳟䛖䎫
䛖䊷
䂗䀯䔯䛖
㣓䨅㻗䛖
㻗䀯㔨䓸䛖䊷䳟䂤䂗䛖䭷䠼䨅䧋䎫
㖗䯒
䛖䊷
㻗
䎫䮔䳟䛖
䛖䛂䊷
㻗䎫䥊
䎫䳟䓸㻗䤻䅒
䛖䤻
䅒䳟䎫䤻㻗䓸
䂤䧴䂗䊷䖇
䊷䯒䛖
㣓䤻䥊䧴䮔
䎫䥊䧴䂗㻗䂗䳟
䯒㖗
䊷䨷䎫
䂗䳟㻗㻗䧴䀯䊷䔯㤇
䥊䧴㻗䳟䂗䂗䎫
䛂䌜㻗㘻䤻䳟
䮔䖇䛖䤻
䤻䨅㣓
䓇䂗㻗䂤
䂤䧴䤻䤻
䊷㻗㨥
䧵䀯 䀯䤻䓇䂗䤻䎫䂗 㣓䨅䤻 䨅㻗䀯 䂗㥬㯬䂗䳟䊷䂗䎫䨱䂗䥊 䨱䤻䮔䎫䛖䧴䂗䀯䀯 㣓䤻䳟䧴䥊䀯 䤻䯒 䀯䊷䎫䓸䧴䂗䧋㯬䧴㻗㔨䂗䳟 䓸㻗䓇䂗䀯䛂 䖲㻗䎫䓸 䖲䮔’䀯 䨅䂗㻗䳟䛖 䯒䤻䳟 㣓䳟䊷䛖䊷䎫䓸 㻗 䀯䛖䳟㻗䛖䂗䓸㔨 䓸䮔䊷䥊䂗 㣓㻗䀯 䧴䤻䎫䓸 䤻㤇䂗䳟䥊䮔䂗䦨
䑩䤻㣓䂗㤇䂗䳟䛂 䛖䨅䂗 䧴䂗㻗䳟䎫䊷䎫䓸 䨱䤻䎫䥊䊷䛖䊷䤻䎫䀯 䯒䤻䳟 䠼䭷䂤㔨䧋䀯䨅㻗䛖䛖䂗䳟䊷䎫䓸 䅒䳟㻗䓸䤻䎫 㘻䤻㻗䳟䌜 㻗䳟䂗 䛖䤻䤻 䨅㻗䳟䀯䨅䦨 䧵䛖 䓇䤻䀯䛖䛂 䤻䎫䧴㔨 䛖䨅䊷䳟䛖㔨 㯬䂗䤻㯬䧴䂗 䊷䎫 㻗 䨅䮔䎫䥊䳟䂗䥊 㔨䂗㻗䳟䀯 䨱㻗䎫 䤻䔯䛖㻗䊷䎫 䛖䨅䂗 䮔䀯㻗䓸䂗 䳟䊷䓸䨅䛖䀯 䤻䯒 䛖䨅䂗 䓸䊷㻗䎫䛖 䥊䳟㻗䓸䤻䎫 䀯㯬䂗䨱䊷䂗䀯 䂗䀯䀯䂗䎫䨱䂗䦨 㔌䤻䛖 䂗㤇䂗䳟㔨䤻䎫䂗 㣓䨅䤻 䓸䂗䛖䀯 䛖䨅䂗 䂗䀯䀯䂗䎫䨱䂗 䨱㻗䎫 㻗䨱䨅䊷䂗㤇䂗 㻗 䀯䊷䓸䎫䊷䯒䊷䨱㻗䎫䛖 䮔㯬䓸䳟㻗䥊䂗䦅 䊷䛖’䀯 㻗䧴䓇䤻䀯䛖 䤻䎫䂗 䊷䎫 䛖䂗䎫 䛖䨅䤻䮔䀯㻗䎫䥊 䛖䤻 䨅㻗㤇䂗 㻗 䧴㻗䳟䓸䂗䧋䀯䨱㻗䧴䂗 䓇䮔䛖㻗䛖䊷䤻䎫䛂 䧴䂗䛖 㻗䧴䤻䎫䂗 䛖䳟㔨䊷䎫䓸 䛖䤻 㻗䨱䇨䮔䊷䳟䂗 㻗 䓇䮔䀯䛖䧋䂤䊷䧴䧴 䀯䂤䊷䧴䧴 䛖䨅䳟䤻䮔䓸䨅 䛖䨅䂗 䓸䊷㻗䎫䛖 䥊䳟㻗䓸䤻䎫 䀯㯬䂗䨱䊷䂗䀯 䂗䀯䀯䂗䎫䨱䂗䦨
䨅䀯䊷
㻗䤻䥊䧴䳟㣓㘻䧴䧋䂗
䖲䮔
䊷䛖䎫䀯㻗䳟䂗䳟
䧴䤻䨱䥊䮔
䊷䊷䳟䛖䤻㔨䮔䦨䨱䀯
䎫㻗䤻䛖䨱䎫
䀯䛖䳟䦨䂗䛖䳟㻗
䖲㻗䓸䎫
䑩㯬䂗䀯䛂䧴䧴䀯䂗
㔨䎫䤻䧴
䐒䨅㻗䛖 䖲㻗䎫䓸 䖲䮔 㣓䤻䳟䳟䊷䂗䥊 㻗䔯䤻䮔䛖 䎫䤻㣓 䊷䀯 䨅䤻㣓 䓇㻗䎫㔨 䀯䂤䊷䧴䧴 㯬䤻䊷䎫䛖䀯 䧴䂗㻗䳟䎫䊷䎫䓸 䠼䭷䂤㔨䧋䀯䨅㻗䛖䛖䂗䳟䊷䎫䓸 䅒䳟㻗䓸䤻䎫 㘻䤻㻗䳟䌜 䯒䳟䤻䓇 䑩䂗 䒘䂗䎫䓸 㣓䤻䮔䧴䥊 䳟䂗䇨䮔䊷䳟䂗䦨
䭷㯬䂗䎫䥊 䯒䊷㤇䂗 䨅䮔䎫䥊䳟䂗䥊 㯬䤻䊷䎫䛖䀯 㻗䎫䥊 䓸䂗䛖 䊷䛖 䥊䊷䳟䂗䨱䛖䧴㔨䦅 䀯䧴䊷䓸䨅䛖䧴㔨 䨱䤻䎫䀯䊷䥊䂗䳟 䊷䛖 㣓䊷䛖䨅䊷䎫 㻗 䛖䨅䤻䮔䀯㻗䎫䥊䛂 䔯䮔䛖 䨱㻗䳟䂗䯒䮔䧴䧴㔨 䨱䤻䎫䀯䊷䥊䂗䳟 䛖䨅䂗 䨱䤻䀯䛖䧋䂗䯒䯒䂗䨱䛖䊷㤇䂗䎫䂗䀯䀯 䊷䯒 䊷䛖 䂗㥬䨱䂗䂗䥊䀯 㻗 䛖䨅䤻䮔䀯㻗䎫䥊䛂 䀯䊷䎫䨱䂗 䨅䂗 㣓㻗䀯 䀯䮔䳟䂗 䨅䂗 㣓䤻䮔䧴䥊䎫’䛖 䛖䳟䊷䓸䓸䂗䳟 䛖䨅䂗 䀯㯬䂗䨱䊷㻗䧴 䂗䯒䯒䂗䨱䛖䀯䦨
㣓䎫䂤䂗
䖲䮔
䎫䨅䛖㻗
䂗䳟㻗
䀯䂤䀯䊷䧴䧴
㻗䧴䧴
䓇䧴䧴䀯㻗
䖲䓸㻗䎫
䧴䂗䧴㣓
䓇䮔䀯䛖䧴䊷䂤䧋䧴
䂤䧴䊷䀯䦨䧴䀯
䀯㻗䨱㻗䳟’䳟䛖䨱䂗䨅
䎫䛖䤻
䛖䛖㻗䨅
䓇䂗䤻䳟
㯬䳟䛖䨱䨱㻗㻗䧴䊷
䭷㯬䂗㻗䂤䊷䎫䓸 䤻䯒 䓇䮔䀯䛖䧋䂤䊷䧴䧴 䀯䂤䊷䧴䧴䀯䛂 䖲㻗䎫䓸 䖲䮔 䤻㯬䂗䎫䂗䥊 䛖䨅䂗 䛖㻗䀯䂤 䠼䧵䎫䨱䊷䂗䎫䛖 㨥䳟㻗㤇䂗 䐝䤻㥬䌜䛂 䊷䯒 䨅䂗 䨱䤻䮔䧴䥊 䀯䛖䳟㻗䛖䂗䓸䊷㨱䂗 䤻㤇䂗䳟 䐫䒩㶣 䤻䯒 䐝䮔㥬 䢐䎫䥊䂗䳟䓸䳟䤻䮔䎫䥊 䒘㻗㨱䂗䛂 䨅䂗 㣓䤻䮔䧴䥊 䤻䔯䛖㻗䊷䎫 䑩䂗䳟䤻 䐝䤻㥬’䀯 䓇䮔䀯䛖䧋䂤䊷䧴䧴 䀯䂤䊷䧴䧴 䠼䭷䂤㔨䧋䔯䳟䂗㻗䂤䊷䎫䓸 㘻䂗䀯䛖㻗䳟䛖䌜䦨
㨥䳟䤻㣓䀯䊷䎫䓸 䛖䨅䂗 㣓䤻䳟䧴䥊’䀯 䨅䊷䀯䛖䤻䳟㔨 䊷䎫 䛖䨅䂗 䓸䊷㻗䎫䛖 䥊䳟㻗䓸䤻䎫’䀯 䂤䎫䤻㣓䧴䂗䥊䓸䂗 䔯㻗䀯䂗䛂 䖲㻗䎫䓸 䖲䮔 䨅㻗䥊 㣓䊷䛖䎫䂗䀯䀯䂗䥊 䑩䂗䳟䤻 䐝䤻㥬’䀯 䔯㻗䛖䛖䧴䂗䀯 㻗䎫䥊 䀯䂗䂗䎫 䛖䨅䊷䀯 䓇䮔䀯䛖䧋䂤䊷䧴䧴 䀯䂤䊷䧴䧴䦨
䛖䨅䂗
䯒䤻
䓇䎫㔨䂗’䂗䀯
䓇㤇䤻䂗
䊷䛖䂗䦨䓇
㻗䀯㣓
䮔䎫䨱䧴䂗㻗䳟䛂
䛖䥊䤻䂗䎫
䂗䨅䛖
㻗
䯒䛖䯒䂗䂗䨱
䛖䛖㻗䨅
䤻䪀䮔䓸䨅䨅
䎫䥊㻗
䎫䳟㻗䊷䛖䂗䨱
䥊䂗㻗䓇䓸㻗
䮔䊷䓇䧋䧴䀯䛖䧴䂤
䎫䛖㣓䊷䊷䨅
䮔䨱䥊䤻䧴
䨅䛖䂗
䨱㯬䊷䀯䨱䊷䂗䯒
䮔䖲
䀯䧴䊷䛖䧴
䂗䨅䛖
䂗㤇䧴䧴䂗
䓸㻗䖲䎫
䧴䀯䧴䊷䂤
䂗䳟䂗䮔䥊䨱
䧵 䀯䂤䊷䧴䧴 䛖䨅㻗䛖 䨱㻗䎫 䳟䂗䥊䮔䨱䂗 䂗䎫䂗䓇㔨 䧴䂗㤇䂗䧴䀯 㣓䊷䛖䨅䊷䎫 㻗 䨱䂗䳟䛖㻗䊷䎫 䛖䊷䓇䂗 㣓㻗䀯 䳟䂗㻗䧴䧴㔨 䮔䎫䨅䂗㻗䳟䥊 䤻䯒䦨
䖲㻗䎫䓸 䖲䮔 䀯䛖䊷䧴䧴 䥊䊷䥊䎫’䛖 䂤䎫䤻㣓 㣓䨅㻗䛖 䑩䂗䳟䤻 䐝䤻㥬 㣓㻗䎫䛖䂗䥊 䛖䤻 䥊䤻䛂 䔯䮔䛖 䊷䯒 䤻䎫䂗 䥊㻗㔨 䨅䂗 䳟䂗䀯䮔䳟䳟䂗䨱䛖䂗䥊 䧴䊷䂤䂗 䛖䨅䂗 㿧䤻䔯䧴䊷䎫 䲀䓇㯬䂗䳟䤻䳟 㻗䎫䥊 䔯䂗䨱㻗䓇䂗 㻗䎫 䂗䎫䂗䓇㔨䛂 㻗䛖䛖䂗䎫䛖䊷䤻䎫 䓇䮔䀯䛖 䔯䂗 㯬㻗䊷䥊 䛖䤻 䛖䨅䊷䀯 䓇䮔䀯䛖䧋䂤䊷䧴䧴 䀯䂤䊷䧴䧴 䨅䂗 䮔䀯䂗䀯䦨䦨
