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𝙰𝚗𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚍𝚘 𝚏𝚊𝚣𝚒𝚊 𝚊𝚕𝚐𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚜 𝚎 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚟𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚣𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚞 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚑𝚘 𝚍𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚊́ 𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚌̧𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚛, 𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚛 𝚗𝚘 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚜 𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚑𝚘...

𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒐 𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒎𝒑 𝑷𝒐𝒗

- 𝚅𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚘? - 𝙴𝚕𝚊 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚊 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚞 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖 𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚞 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚘 𝚌𝚒́𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚘 𝚜𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚘. - 𝙼𝚊𝚜 𝚓𝚊́ 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊́ 𝚗𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚊? 𝙽𝚎𝚖 𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚖 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚊 𝚗𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚊 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚊.

- 𝙽𝚊̃𝚘 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝚗𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚑𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚌𝚎̂. - 𝙲𝚛𝚞𝚣𝚘 𝚘𝚜 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚌̧𝚘𝚜.

- 𝙿𝚘𝚛 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊́ 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚖 𝚍𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚘? 𝙰𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚒 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚊 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚊 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚘 𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚘. - 𝙴𝚕𝚊 𝚜𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊 𝚗𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚊.

𝚂𝚞𝚊 𝚟𝚘𝚣 𝚜𝚘𝚊 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚊, 𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚌̧𝚊̃𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚣 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚊𝚛 𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚜.

- 𝙴 𝚎𝚞 𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚒 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚌𝚎̂ 𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚟𝚛𝚊. - 𝚁𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚒, 𝚌𝚘𝚖 𝚘𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚜 𝚎 𝚊 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚟𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚙𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘.

𝙴𝚕𝚊 𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚣𝚎 𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊, 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚊, 𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚟𝚎𝚓𝚘 𝚊 𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚐𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚜, 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚣 𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚙𝚊?

- 𝙳𝚘 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊́ 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘? 

- 𝚅𝚘𝚌𝚎̂ 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚗𝚊̃𝚘 𝚒𝚊 𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚛 𝚘 𝚕𝚞𝚐𝚊𝚛 𝚍𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚊 𝚖𝚊̃𝚎. 𝚅𝚘𝚌𝚎̂ 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚞! 𝙼𝚊𝚜 𝚎𝚞 𝚟𝚒... - 𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚊 𝚟𝚘𝚣 𝚟𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚕𝚊, 𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚘 𝚝𝚘𝚖 𝚜𝚊𝚒 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚍𝚘 𝚍𝚎 𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚊. - 𝙴𝚞 𝚟𝚒 𝚟𝚘𝚌𝚎̂ 𝚎 𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚞 𝚙𝚊𝚒 𝚓𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚜 𝚗𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚊.

𝙰 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊̃𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚕𝚊 𝚖𝚞𝚍𝚊 𝚗𝚞𝚖 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎. 𝙽𝚊̃𝚘 𝚎́ 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚊, 𝚗𝚎𝚖 𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚘, 𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚞𝚖𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌̧𝚊̃𝚘 𝚎 𝚞𝚖𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚊 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚐𝚘 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚎𝚞 𝚗𝚊̃𝚘 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚊 𝚘𝚞𝚟𝚒𝚛.

- 𝙾𝚑 𝚕𝚘𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚘. - 𝙴𝚕𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚛, 𝚌𝚘𝚖 𝚊 𝚟𝚘𝚣 𝚋𝚊𝚒𝚡𝚊, 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚟𝚎.

- 𝙽𝚊̃𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚊 𝚎𝚖 𝚖𝚒𝚖! - 𝙴𝚡𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚒, 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚞𝚖 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚘 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚝𝚛𝚊́𝚜.

𝙾 𝚊𝚛 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚜𝚊𝚍𝚘 𝚊𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚘𝚛, 𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚕𝚊 𝚜𝚘́ 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚝𝚊.

𝙴𝚕𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊, 𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚊̃𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎.

- 𝙳𝚎𝚒𝚡𝚊 𝚎𝚞 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚛...

- 𝙴𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚛 𝚘 𝚚𝚞𝚎̂? 𝚀𝚞𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚌𝚎̂ 𝚎́ 𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚞 𝚙𝚊𝚒? 𝚀𝚞𝚎 𝚗𝚊̃𝚘 𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚖 𝚘𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚞𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚜, 𝚗𝚎𝚖 𝚌𝚘𝚖 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚊 𝚖𝚊̃𝚎 𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘́𝚛𝚒𝚊 𝚍𝚎𝚕𝚊? - 𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚟𝚛𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚊𝚎𝚖 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚘 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚊𝚜, 𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚊̃𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚜𝚊̃𝚘 𝚊 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚍𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚎𝚞 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘.

- 𝙼𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚘, 𝚗𝚊̃𝚘 𝚎́ 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚖... - 𝙰 𝚟𝚘𝚣 𝚍𝚎𝚕𝚊 𝚟𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚕𝚊, 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘, 𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚎𝚞 𝚓𝚊́ 𝚗𝚊̃𝚘 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝚘𝚞𝚟𝚒𝚛.

- 𝙴́ 𝚜𝚒𝚖! - 𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚘, 𝚜𝚎𝚖 𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛. - 𝚅𝚘𝚌𝚎̂ 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚑𝚊𝚛 𝚊 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚘, 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚘 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚖 𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚝𝚊 𝚞𝚖 𝚌𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚘 𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚍𝚘, 𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚘𝚛𝚊 𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚛 𝚘 𝚕𝚞𝚐𝚊𝚛 𝚍𝚎𝚕𝚊.

𝙴𝚕𝚊 𝚗𝚊̃𝚘 𝚍𝚒𝚣 𝚗𝚊𝚍𝚊, 𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚟𝚎𝚓𝚘 𝚘 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚟𝚛𝚊𝚜. 𝚄𝚖 𝚜𝚎𝚐𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚍𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚎̂𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚘 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘́𝚜, 𝚝𝚊̃𝚘 𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚘 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚞𝚖 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚘.

- 𝚅𝚘𝚌𝚎̂ 𝚍𝚎𝚞 𝚘 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚎. - 𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚊 𝚟𝚘𝚣 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚞 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚒𝚡𝚊, 𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚗𝚘. - 𝙴 𝚊𝚐𝚘𝚛𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚞 𝚘 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚊.

𝙴𝚞 𝚖𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚛𝚘, 𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚛𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚌̧𝚊̃𝚘 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚊 𝚙𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚣𝚎𝚛. 𝙼𝚎𝚞 𝚙𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊́ 𝚙𝚎𝚜𝚊𝚍𝚘, 𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚊̃𝚘 𝚍𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌̧𝚘 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚊́𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚜. 𝙽𝚊̃𝚘 𝚊𝚐𝚘𝚛𝚊.

𝙴𝚕𝚊 𝚗𝚊̃𝚘 𝚍𝚒𝚣 𝚗𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚎 𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚞𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚜 𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚍𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚊 𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚌̧𝚘 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚖𝚊 𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛 𝚊 𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊.

𝚂𝚎𝚒 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚌̧𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘 𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚖 𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚟𝚊𝚒 𝚍𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚛 𝚖𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚘.