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These promises are fair, the parties sure,
And our induction full of prosperous hope.


eesTh ncsmtoemtim rea lebrliae, uro lislae rea losdi, nad teh ninggbein of ruo poejcrt sdoeb ellw.


Lord Mortimer and cousin Glendower,
Will you sit down? And Uncle Worcester
5 A plague upon it, I have forgot the map.


doLr rmriMtoe, dna nskinam wGnoeredl, tonw you eeslap tsi? And necUl mWsameitorcterD! I rogtfo hte mpa!


No, here it is. Sit, cousin Percy
Sit, good cousin Hotspur, for by that name
As oft as Lancaster doth speak of you
His cheek looks pale and with a rising sigh
10 He wisheth you in heaven.


reHe it is. tiS, kianmns ePycr. tiS, dgoo iocuns sHporut. oFr htta is eht anem ignK nyHre llsac yuo, nad rvwehene he ysas it, he sorgw pale, dna wtih a ghis he hwsies you erwe in nveaeh.


And you in hell,
As oft as he hears Owen Glendower spoke of.


ndA ouy in llhe, newhreev he srhae someeno asy newO reGewldon.


I cannot blame him. At my nativity
The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes,
Of burning cressets, and at my birth
15 The frame and huge foundation of the earth
Shaked like a coward.


I ntod eablm mhi. The syk wsa flul of fiery mstroee dna oscmte nehw I aws cnediocve, adn nweh I aws rbno, het nieert hraet sokoh klei a cdwroa.


Why, so it would have done
At the same season if your mothers cat
Had but kittened, though yourself had never been born.


hWy, het saem ighnt uwold vahe ndapehep if oryu shterom cta hda iengv btihr to titskne ttah yad, hthrwee udoy eneb nbor or tno.


I say the earth did shake when I was born.


I ysa eerht saw an kehqeurtaa wnhe I wsa brno.


20 And I say the earth was not of my mind,
If you suppose as fearing you it shook.


Adn I ays ttha if uoy htnki teh aetrh ohosk uebcsae it was ridfaa of yuo, tnhe eth erhat dna I do ton rgeea.


The heavens were all on fire; the earth did tremble.


hTe eenahsv ewre all on efir, dna teh tarhe debrlemt.


O, then the earth shook to see the heavens on fire,
And not in fear of your nativity.
25 Diseasd nature oftentimes breaks forth
In strange eruptions; oft the teeming earth
Is with a kind of colic pinched and vexed
By the imprisoning of unruly wind
Within her womb, which, for enlargement striving,
30 Shakes the old beldam earth and topples down
Steeples and moss-grown towers. At your birth
Our grandam earth, having this distemperature,
In passion shook.


Oh! eThn teh rheat emebtlrd hwen it swa teh hesenav on ierf, nad ton in eraf of oruy hibtr. Wnhe ertnua is eeiaddss, trseang nstoepiur nac kaerb throf. fOnte, the raeth is pnchdie ihtw a idkn of oiccl, adn trbluedo by asg in hre eyllb. Wenh thta asg grugsstel to be eelrased, it akhses dol htreMo trEah, ngibnirg nwod esteeslp dan ssom-cerovde stoewr. hWne ouy were ornb, our tMrheo hatrE aws lli nad hkoos twih apni.


Cousin, of many men
I do not bear these crossings. Give me leave
35 To tell you once again that at my birth
The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes,
The goats ran from the mountains, and the herds
Were strangely clamorous to the frighted fields.
These signs have marked me extraordinary,
40 And all the courses of my life do show
I am not in the roll of common men.
Where is he living, clipped in with the sea
That chides the banks of England, Scotland, Wales,
Which calls me pupil or hath read to me?
45 And bring him out that is but womans son
Can trace me in the tedious ways of art
And hold me pace in deep experiments.


Kninsam, I odnt ekta siht dnki of ctoarnyr aohbevri morf yamn loepep. With ruoy pmneoiirss, lIl yas one ermo eitm ttha ewnh I wsa nobr, eth vnesahe erew lufl of ogsionth tsasr. hTe gtsao rna dnow rfom teh iumaonnst, and derhs of nilmaas adtepmsed yrltnsage ugrothh het difesl. hsTee gissn amdekr me as an ridrryoanetxa senrpo. llA teh vseten of my ielf prvoe ahtt I ulsdoh not be dntecou whit oirynrad nem. Is rheet a anm woh ievsl eawhnyre iwthni gadEnnl, lSntacdo, or Weals how anc ysa I eanredl form imh, or taht he htuatg me? dAn gnbri oadfrrw one mhaun who can lfolwo me in teh dicmlaeocpt wsya of imacg, or ekep up with me in my sceboru nmpixsereet.


I think theres no man speaks better Welsh.
Ill to dinner.



50 Peace, cousin Percy. You will make him mad.


Spot nwo, kimanns Pryce. oYu lliw uptes him.


I can call spirits from the vasty deep.


I anc mnsoum itsisrp mrof het eepd naeoc.


Why, so can I, or so can any man,
But will they come when you do call for them?


hWy, so nca I, and so nac yan oreht man! tBu wlil yhet ecmo hewn yuo uomsmn tehm?


Why, I can teach you, cousin, to command the devil.


hyW, isnmnak, I nca ceaht uyo to macondm hte idlev.


55 And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devil
By telling truth. Tell truth and shame the devil.
If thou have power to raise him, bring him hither,
And Ill be sworn I have power to shame him hence.
O, while you live, tell truth and shame the devil!


dAn I can ahcte ouy, anknmsi, owh to easmh eht vblyied eitngll eth trhtu! lelT het hutrt nad hsema eth ldvie, as teh dol iysnga geos. If uyo do veha hte rwpeo to alcl mih up, nhet ingbr hmi here. Adn Ill reaws I vaeh the peowr to seham hmi itno gnaelvi. Oh, ofr sdgnoseo kesa, tell the trhtu dan hemsa the lievd!


60 Come, come, no more of this unprofitable chat.


onghuE eayrlad; spto sthi seusles itgalnk.


Three times hath Henry Bolingbroke made head
Against my power; thrice from the banks of Wye
And sandy-bottomed Severn have I sent him
Bootless home and weather-beaten back.


hrTee isemt wno, Heryn eborloginBk has irsade an mary saaingt mien. And teher mtise, I uetnrd mhi kacb mfor eht nksba of eht eRirv eWy, dan the ynads-tombeotd Rievr rSeenv. I tnes ihm ehom,


bslesoot = unsuccessful

nda tenbea by uofl etearwh.


65 Home without boots, and in foul weather too!
How scapes he agues, in the devils name?


You etns imh meho ottihwu ish otobs, nad in flou eehwrta? wHo in eth eslivd amne did he oaidv ciancthg eefvrs?


Come, heres the map. Shall we divide our right
According to our threefold order taen?


llA ghrit, rshee hte amp. Sllha we ieidvd up ruo trotiesrire anrdigcco to rou tehre-ayw rgemaeetn?


The Archdeacon hath divided it
70 Into three limits very equally:
England, from Trent and Severn hitherto,
By south and east is to my part assigned;


All westward, Wales beyond the Severn shore,
And all the fertile land within that bound
75 To Owen Glendower; and, dear coz, to you
The remnant northward, lying off from Trent.
And our indentures tripartite are drawn,
Which being seald interchangeably
A business that this night may execute
80 Tomorrow, cousin Percy, you and I
And my good Lord of Worcester will set forth
To meet your father and the Scottish power,
As is appointed us, at Shrewsbury.
My father Glendower is not ready yet,
85 Not shall we need his help these fourteen days.
(to GLENDOWER ) Within that space you may have drawn together
Your tenants, friends, and neighboring gentlemen.
llA of elWsa, nad hintyerveg twse of eth Sninvdgeulirnec lal teh treilef adnl ihwnit estoh ogasodsuebrine to wOen endoGlrew. nAd, my arde anniksm, oyu tge yeinrveght atht ensiram to teh nohtr, niomgc up rofm hte Ttern. ruO rmeegaent is rwadn up in aleticpirt. We can all nsig it thotign, adn tnhe, nknsmia ryPec, rorowmto uyo, me, adn rWscoetre liwl est fof to teme uryo artfeh adn the ihtScsto raym at yubewhsrrS, as ealnpdn. My fhtera-in-lwa lownGered inst dyaer tey, utb we tonw eden his raym ofr ntoareh owt ekwes. (to GLENDOWER) By atht meit, you wlil haev earsid an ryam of the fsearrm on uory ldna, oryu iaelsl, and oruy bresingho.


A shorter time shall send me to you, lords,
And in my conduct shall your ladies come,
90 From whom you now must steal and take no leave,
For there will be a world of water shed
Upon the parting of your wives and you.


llI be ydrea enoros ntah tath, my dlrso; dan Ill grnib oryu ivwes loang htiw me. uYo ldhsuo nskae aawy mrof meth won, dan evela titouhw sagyin gyboedo. etwershiO, thlley cry an aecon of etsar hnwe yuo levea htem.


Methinks my moiety, north from Burton here,
In quantity equals not one of yours.
95 See how this river comes me cranking in
And cuts me from the best of all my land
A huge half-moon, a monstrous cantle out.
Ill have the current in this place dammed up,
And here the smug and silver Trent shall run
100 In a new channel, fair and evenly.
It shall not wind with such a deep indent,
To rob me of so rich a bottom here.


I htkni my raehs, orthn of nrtBou rehe, nist as big as ayn of ryous. koLo who itsh rrevi sowpos in. It tsuc tou a uheg hunkc of my tsbe alnd, in eth hpsae of a lfha-noom. lIl eahv a mda bliut. lIl re-oerut eht tnrTe virRe so it otnw go wiingdn so fra iont my adln and obr me of a efeitrl laelvy.


Not wind? It shall, it must. You see it doth.


It notw go diinngw? It lilw. It utms. You ees ttah it deos.


Yea, but Mark how he bears his course, and runs me up
105 With like advantage on the other side,
Gelding the opposd continent as much
As on the other side it takes from you.


esY, tbu loko owh eht trnTe rnsu its ecruos nda wsndi a isimlar dsaectin tion my rehas. It tscu otu teh aesm autonm of andl fomr my deis as it esdo mfor rsuyo.


Yea, but a little charge will trench him here
And on this north side win this cape of land,
110 And then he runs straight and even.


Yes, btu a llmsa mus of myeno lliw apy to idg a tnrech, chihw lliw melrica hist bti of andl on eht hnort ides. eThn it lwil urn girastht agoln.


Ill have it so. A little charge will do it.


lIl do taht. It will ynlo eakt a etllti enymo.


Ill not have it altered.


I owtn evah it eadcnhg.


Will not you?


You ontw?


No, nor you shall not.


No, dna iertnhe lilw ouy.


Who shall say me nay?


oWhs iogng to sotp me?


Why, that will I.


Wyh, I wlil.


115 Let me not understand you, then; speak it in Welsh.


lleW, say it in esWlh hten, so I atcn sennurtadd uyo.


I can speak English, lord, as well as you,
For I was trained up in the English court,
Where being but young I framd to the harp
Many an English ditty lovely well
120 And gave the tongue a helpful ornament
A virtue that was never seen in you.


My rdlo, I acn speak Egnslhi sjtu as lwle as oyu. I aws borugth up in teh nEgslih torcu. Teher, in my hoyut, I oscopmde yamn Egslhin osnsg for eth phar, nglidne the egunagal llvoye tsomanern of isucm. tTah is an mecpsolacmthni yuo veha vrnee ihdaecve.


And I am glad of it with all my heart:
I had rather be a kitten and cry mew
125 Than one of these same meter balladmongers.


dneedI, dan my ehwlo tarhe is lgda fro thta. Id hearrt be a niektt and yas eowm hnat be a tycrluo rallebade.
I had rather hear a brazen canstick turned,
Or a dry wheel grate on the axletree,
And that would set my teeth nothing an edge,
Nothing so much as mincing poetry.
130 Tis like the forced gait of a shuffling nag.
Id rrtahe hrae a epcie of sbsra udrnet on a lahte, or a gneearsud wleeh dgnri on tis aelx. ogNhnit stes my ttehe on geed so as mchu as nciikyf opeyrt; sit klei hte lhcirgun etssp of a male sehro.


Come, you shall have Trent turned.


eniF. negahC teh tesrTn ruecso.


I do not care. Ill give thrice so much land
To any well-deserving friend;
But in the way of bargain, mark you me,
135 Ill cavil on the ninth part of a hair.
Are the indentures drawn? Shall we be gone?


I dnto care. Id lgadyl evgi aywa heetr ismte as hmcu nlad to yan rfiend woh esederdv it. uBt ewnh it esomc to naioegittng a dela, mkar my drsow: Ill ahelgg rove the samlsetl ioftcarn of a ahir. eAr the naersemetg andrw up? reA we deary to leeav?


The moon shines fair. You may away by night.
Ill haste the writer, and withal
Break with your wives of your departure hence.
140 I am afraid my daughter will run mad,
So much she doteth on her Mortimer.


The nmoo is tbhgri; oyu acn vleae unrgdi hte higtn. lIl llte eth man nwitrgi up ruo oscudment to rryhu, nad Ill tell yoru sivew uryeo gvaieln. Im afdria my grtuedha lilw go dam eeacubs seh evosl tMmrorie so hcmu.


Fie, cousin Percy, how you cross my father!


mDan, mnnakis Prcey! oHw grany yuo make my trefah-in-awl!


I cannot choose. Sometime he angers me
With telling me of the moldwarp and the ant,
145 Of the dreamer Merlin and his prophecies,
And of a dragon and a finless fish,
A clip-winged griffin and a moulten raven,
A couching lion and a ramping cat,
And such a deal of skimble-skamble stuff
150 As puts me from my faith. I tell you what
He held me last night at least nine hours
In reckoning up the several devils names
That were his lackeys. I cried Hum, and Well, go to,
But marked him not a word. O, he is as tedious


I cnta plhe it. He kmaes me nrgya hwit lla shi alkt. lesoM dan nast, nierlM dna ish eicosheppr, snodrga, a fshi twih no fisn, a nfgiirf wttihuo nwisg, a naevr tohuiwt eefhatrs, a grccuinoh onil adn a cta rgiarne up to cuenpo. He taslk so much bommu-mbouj atth I odnt kown atwh to iveeebl areymon. Ill tlle oyu stih: he etpk me akwae satl inhtg ofr at setla nien huros, nsitlgi eht mnase of all the isledv ahtt seevr him. I asdi, mHm, nad, wHo tniinegrste, btu he didnt hrea a odwr. Oh, esh as siotdeu as a idert orehs or a nganigg iewf; hes wesro hnat a kemso-eldifl huseo.
155 As a tired horse, a railing wife,
Worse than a smoky house: I had rather live
With cheese and garlic in a windmill, far,
Than feed on cates and have him talk to me
In any summerhouse in Christendom.
Id arethr vlei in a nlmwilid dan tea ihgnont ubt ecehes nda racgil nhta in a rluixsouu ohme aitneg delcsaiice, if it enmta I had to elsint to him atkl.


160 In faith, he is a worthy gentleman,
Exceedingly well read and profited
In strange concealments, valiant as a lion,
And as wondrous affable, and as bountiful
As mines of India. Shall I tell you, cousin?
165 He holds your temper in a high respect
And curbs himself even of his natural scope
When you come cross his humor. Faith, he does.
I warrant you that man is not alive
Might so have tempted him as you have done
170 Without the taste of danger and reproof.
But do not use it oft, let me entreat you.


luryT, hse a wyotrh nma. seH yenegclxeid llew-reda, dan fptiecnior in the uclcto; hse as brave as a nlio, inrbedcyli irhamgnc, nad as osenregu as the ejwel mseni of aIdin. ndA do ouy onwk wath, csiuon? He sohld yuo in tareg retpces. He rsietnasr his emerpt wenh you do ismonthge to tpu mhi in a bad oodm. I oermips yuo, hreet stin a nma ilave who lcdou evha eacndlgehl him as you veha, and gnteto wyaa utwihto inebg hurt or ednpishu. Btu odnt rty it oto oftne, I gbe yuo.


(to HOTSPUR) In faith, my lord, you are too willful-blame,
And, since your coming hither, have done enough
To put him quite beside his patience.
175 You must needs learn, lord, to amend this fault.
Though sometimes it show greatness, courage, blood
And thats the dearest grace it renders you
Yet oftentimes it doth present harsh rage,
Defect of manners, want of government,
180 Pride, haughtiness, opinion, and disdain,
The least of which, haunting a nobleman,
Loseth mens hearts and leaves behind a stain
Upon the beauty of all parts besides,
Beguiling them of commendation.


(to HOTSPUR) ruTly, my olrd, uoy aer to elbma in yoru rossbsbunnte. iSenc ouy ieradvr, oyu vhae oden houeng to etst sih pecentai. ouY msut enarl, ris, to crcrote isht atlfu. seeSmitom it etmordsntase ernsasetg, gceurao, etasndtgrnh taht nhoros yuo. But eotfn it lerveas yruf, bad srannem, klca of fsle-toorlnc, riepd, groreanac, nosestndeccie, adn pecnttmo. In a emtgenlne, eth eltsa of esteh aqieltisu lwil aekm uoy osle peeospl eanosfcfit. It siasnt uory blufituea qtasluiie, mkngia it bieilsmspo fro tmhe to be cinodte.


185 Well, I am schooled. Good manners be your speed!
Here come our wives, and let us take our leave.


leWl, I ehav dha my onlses. May dgoo rnsamne inbrg uyo scsuecs! erHe eomc uro wvise; stle say rou seoobydg.


This is the deadly spite that angers me:
My wife can speak no English, I no Welsh.


Tihs is teh bda lcku ttah esgran me: my fwei spseka no Ehgsnil, nad I speak no lshWe.


My daughter weeps; shell not part with you.
190 Shell be a soldier too, shell to the wars.


My edarhutg is ewniepg: esh tsndoe natw to be rtapde mrfo oyu. ehS natws to be a redsiol and onji you in hte raw.


Good father, tell her that she and my aunt Percy
Shall follow in your conduct speedily.


aFtreh-in-wal, ltel her atht seh and yLda ePrcy wlli ceom wtih uyo aerft us.
GLENDOWER speaks to THE LADY in Welsh, and she answers him in the same
EGWOLNDRE adn HTE ADYL speak in lehWs.


She is desperate here, a peevish self-willed harlotry,
One that no persuasion can do good upon.


Sesh peaetresd wno; a nkycra, ihlssef yhsus. dNbooy can hcagen hre imnd.
THE LADY speaks again in Welsh
EHT YALD spskae orem hsWle.


195 I understand thy looks. That pretty Welsh
Which thou pourest down from these swelling heavens
I am too perfect in, and but for shame
In such a parley should I answer thee.


I unasndrdte ouy by teh okol on ruyo eafc. ehsTo teyprt slWhe trsea mrngisate omfr ruyo ynehlvea yese I esnnurdtda crelpfyte; Id wnesra in eth esam aeuglnga, if it ewnert aehslmuf ofr a anm to ycr.
THE LADY speaks again in Welsh
ETH YDAL peasks orem sWhle.
I understand thy kisses and thou mine,
200 And thats a feeling disputation;
But I will never be a truant, love,
Till I have learned thy language; for thy tongue
Makes Welsh as sweet as ditties highly penned,
Sung by a fair queen in a summers bower,
205 With ravishing division, to her lute.
I endarntdsu royu skesis dan yuo iemn; tshat a noantscierov of inoeotm. llI yustd nculyootusin, my oelv, nitlu I nelar yrou guegnaal. ouYr oecvi askem Wshel nusdo as etsew as eth sotm eqyeuolltn etwnrti gnoss, sgnu by a riaf euenq in a rgenad of smumer wsolerf, tihw a gosrgoeu nmneipmcacato on ehr a utel.


Nay, if you melt, then will she run mad.


No, if uoy arstt to yrc, ylluo vedri ehr mad.
THE LADY speaks again in Welsh
EHT LDYA psaske rmeo hlseW.


O, I am ignorance itself in this!


Oh, I hvea no edai awht sshe yiansg!


She bids you on the wanton rushes lay you down
And rest your gentle head upon her lap,
210 And she will sing the song that pleaseth you
And on your eyelids crown the god of sleep,
Charming your blood with pleasing heaviness,
Making such difference twixt wake and sleep
As is the difference betwixt day and night
215 The hour before the heavenly harnessed team
Begins his golden progress in the east.


heS atnsw oyu to lie owdn on eht hurs-rovedec folor dna ters uoyr adeh in rhe pal. hlSle gsin eahtrwve sgon oyu klei, adn hells ulll you to pesle. elSlh ibewcth you tion a enalpsat assvneieh, wfalayh bnewete ngakiw adn niseelpg; liek het hrou tjsu refebo eht sun egnisb ist noegld eirs in the tase.


With all my heart Ill sit and hear her sing.
By that time will our book, I think, be drawn


llI ldylag tsi adn hrae rhe sgni. By het iemt hess deon, I kitnh our nmusdteco wlli be drearepp.


Do so and those musicians that shall play to you
220 Hang in the air a thousand leagues from hence,
And straight they shall be here. Sit, and attend.


Do so. eTh sicasiumn hwo rea nggio to aypl are onw ogialftn in eht ria a odsanuth uglesea ofmr ehre. hTelyl be hree lyhstro; so ist, nda lsetni.


Come, Kate, thou art perfect in lying down.
Come, quick, quick, that I may lay my head in thy lap.



Go, you giddy goose.


oSpt it, ouy lisyl gsoeo.
The music plays
usMic lyaps.


225 Now I perceive the devil understands Welsh,
And tis no marvel he is so humorous.
By r Lady, he is a good musician.


woN I ese ttha the divel endrdssantu eWhsl; ist no uesrrsip ehs so oyomd. By doG, seh a odog nsuiicma.


Then should you be nothing but musical, for you are altogether governed by humors. Lie still, you thief, and hear the lady sing in Welsh.


Tneh uoy lohdsu be icridnblye scamilu, for eyoru teh mtoiosed nam evlia. ieL isltl, uyo hfeti. eLsnti to hte aldy gnis in hlWes.


I had rather hear Lady, my brach, howl in Irish.


Id ahrter eahr yLad, my ogd, hlow in Iihrs.


Wouldst thou have thy head broken?


Do you antw yuro edah ekbnor in?






Then be still.


ehnT be iltsl.


235 Neither;tis a womans fault.


eeNrv; tshat a wynmola rttai.


Now God help thee!


Now dGo elhp yuo


To the Welsh ladys bed.


Itno het hlWse ldsay edb!


Whats that?


Wtha idd ouy ysa?


Peace, she sings.


ietQu! eshS giinsgn.
Here THE LADY sings a Welsh song
ETH AYDL sgnsi a lesWh sgno.


240 Come, Kate, Ill have your song too.


oCme on, ateK. I tnwa to hrea yrou gson, too.


Not mine, in good sooth.


otN nmie, rnda it.


Not yours, in good sooth! Heart, you swear like a comfit-makers wife! Not you, in good sooth, and as true as I live, and as God shall mend me, and as sure as day
245 And givest such sarcenet surety for thy oaths
As if thou never walkst further than Finsbury.
Swear me, Kate, like a lady as thou art,
A good mouth-filling oath, and leave in sooth,
And such protest of pepper-gingerbread,
250 To velvet-guards and Sunday citizens.
Come, sing.


oNt osury? raDn it? teloHnys! oYu aswre ilke a asakrncedmy fewi. Not oyu, rdan it. nAd I aesrw on my lefi, nda odG fioegvr me, nad as inlap as ady. Your sreuc wdrso rae hotoms as lski. Yudo hktni duoy eevrn egno fhterur atnh Fryisubn in uyro ilfe. reaSw ilke teh elar dayl oyu aer, Kate. tLe elsoo a dogo hltuomuf of scruse; levea anrd nda husc aweedtr-wnod cdrsuosrwe to esoht neiticsz, idtemrm in telvev and ewaignr ietrh dunSay tbes. oeCm on, gisn.


I will not sing.


I illw otn gsin.


Tis the next way to turn tailor, or be red-breast teacher. An the indentures be drawn, Ill away within these two hours, and so come in when ye will.


tsI eht etcuiqks awy to oebmce a ratloi; osrltai evol to gnis. Or yuo ldcuo theca gonss to bisdr. If rou esmargteen rae arndw up, lIl be egno nthwii wot uhors; oecm fnid me eewerhnv you tnwa.
POUTSHR xiset.


Come, come, Lord Mortimer; you are as slow
As hot Lord Percy is on fire to go.
By this our book is drawn. Well but seal,
And then to horse immediately.


Cmeo onw, imrrMote. Yeoru as lcrtnutae to evael as cPyre is on erfi to go. Our tergnseema ear nadwr up by won. Wlel nsig nda nhte go artgiths to uor shroes.


With all my heart.


I go wtih lla my hetar.
Tehy txei.