House of the Dragon - Season 1 EP2.The Rogue Prince

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  • (epic theme playing)

    ♪ ♪

    ♪ ♪


    (tense music playing)

    (water flowing)

    (indistinct yelling)

    (winces, groans)

    (people yelling)

    (distant screaming)

    King Viserys: Ser Ryam was a strong

    Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.

    But he was ill for some time.

    He passed in peace, I hope.

    Grand Maester Mellos:

    Yes, Your Grace.

    He was found to have passed

    gently in his sleep.

    His remains are being prepared

    by the Silent Sisters.

    The succeeding Lord Commander,

    Ser Harrold,

    would like to make haste in finding

    Ser Ryam’s replacement

    on the Kingsguard.

    Ser Harrold Westerling:

    Your Grace. My lords.

    The Kingsguard must soon be restored

    to its full complement of seven.

    With the help of the Hand,

    I’ve invited a number of

    fine candidates to court.

    All have passed fair trials.

    (door opens)

    Four ships have now been lost.

    The last one was flying my banner.

    The Stepstones have now

    grown into a conflagration,

    yet you sit here

    and dither about court business.

    Ser Otto Hightower: If you’ve

    something to discuss, Lord Corlys…

    I want to know what is to be done

    about my ships and my men.

    The Crown will compensate you

    for your ship and crew,

    and make an offering

    - to the men’s families.

    - I don’t want compensation.

    I want to seize the Stepstones by force

    and burn out this Crabfeeder.

    I am not prepared to start

    a war with the Free Cities.

    These pirates are not the Free Cities.

    Who do you think provides them

    with their ships and tender?

    In all of its history, my lord,

    the Seven Kingdoms have never entered

    open war with the Free Cities.

    Were that to happen,

    the losses would be incalculable.

    What reason does

    the Crabfeeder have to fear us?

    The King’s own brother has been

    allowed to seize Dragonstone

    and fortify it with an army

    of his gold cloaks.

    Daemon has squatted there

    for over half a year

    without even a protest from The Crown.

    I’ll caution you, Lord Corlys,

    a seat at the King’s table

    does not make you his equal.

    I have acted, Corlys.

    I’ve sent envoys to Pentos and Volantis

    to see if we might find common cause.

    Ships and men are at the ready.

    The Stepstones

    will be settled… in time.

    You have dragonriders, father.

    Send us.

    (soft chuckle)

    It isn’t that simple, Rhaenyra.

    It would be a show of force.

    At least the Princess has a plan.

    - I only meant that we should at least…

    - Otto: Perhaps, uh…

    there’s some better use for the

    Princess’s talents, Your Grace.

    King Viserys: Why don’t you take

    the Princess to see about the new

    Kingsguard posting, Lord Commander?

    A fine idea, Your Grace.

    This knight will protect you as well.

    You should choose.


    (door opens)

    (birds chirping)


    Ser Desmond Caron,

    a fine knight, Princess.

    Step forward, Ser Desmond.

    Son of Ser Royce Caron,

    Ser Desmond has proved

    strong and steady

    in both the tourney lists and without.

    While traveling through the Kingswood

    on his way to King’s Landing,

    Ser Desmond recently brought

    a would-be poacher

    to justice.

    You might thank him

    for his leal service, Princess.

    We thank you for your loyal

    service to The Crown, ser.

    (footsteps departing)


    Ser Rymun Mallister.

    Son of Lord Lymond Mallister

    of Seagard.

    Winner of the melee at Cider Hall.

    He was the last mounted

    of three-and-twenty knights.

    Ser Rymun was knighted

    at eight-and-ten.

    Do any of these knights

    have combat experience?

    Beyond capturing poachers.

    (city bells tolling)


    Ser Criston Cole.

    Son of the steward

    of the Lord of Blackhaven.

    Be welcome, Ser Criston.

    You saw combat in the Stormlands.

    Dornish marches, Princess.

    I fought for a year as a foot solider

    against the Dornish incursions.

    Ser Arlan Dondarrion

    knighted me after we razed

    two of the watchtowers

    along the Boneway.

    I choose Ser Criston Cole.

    Let’s not be too hasty, Princess.

    There’s no doubt Ser Criston

    is a fine warrior,

    but houses such as

    Crakehall and Mallister

    are important allies of The Crown.

    Seagard, for instance,

    is the realm’s prime defense

    against reavers from the Iron Islands.

    Those men are tourney knights.

    My father should be defended by

    a man who’s known real combat.

    Should he not?

    Of course, Princess.

    Well, let us plan Ser Criston’s

    investiture then.

    (city bells tolling)

    ♪ ♪

    King Viserys: The Valyrian

    capital was built into a volcano,

    much like Dragonstone.

    And the dragonlords,

    the highest of the nobility,

    lived here, at the volcanic face,

    closest to the source

    of their magic and power.

    And this was the Anogrion.

    Where the bloodmages

    worked their craft.

    It is truly wondrous what you’ve built.

    Oh no.

    I only pore over the histories

    and provide the plans.

    The stonemasons built the structures.

    Do you believe that Westeros

    can be another Valyria, Your Grace?

    That depends,

    whether you speak of the Freehold

    at its height or at its fall.

    Over a thousand dragons,

    a navy large enough to span

    the seas of the world.

    The glory of Old Valyria

    will never be seen again.

    - (object breaks)

    - Seven Hells.

    (birds cawing)

    Tell me, how is Rhaenyra?

    - What do you mean?

    - Well, these days,

    she doesn’t say more

    than a few words to me.

    I think she might find it difficult…

    to discuss personal matters.

    It will take time.

    It did when I lost mine own mother.

    I wish she would approach me.

    What if you went to her?

    There are times when

    I would rather face

    the Black Dread himself

    than mine own daughter of 15.


    I think she would open

    herself to you if invited.

    You do have such an easy way about

    you, Your Grace.


    you do not mention our

    talks to Rhaenyra, do you?

    I just…

    I fear that she wouldn’t

    understand them.

    No, Your Grace.

    (seabirds cawing)

    It’s only been half a year

    since my mother died,

    and already they tried

    to marry my father off

    and replace me as heir.

    I know those men and how they plot

    in their secret councils

    when I’ve been sent away.

    You cannot worry at the matters

    of lords and kings, Rhaenyra.

    What if your father were to remarry?

    Your father loves you.

    He chose you for his heir.

    He didn’t choose me.

    He spurns Daemon.

    Kneel with me.

    I find this is a way

    to be with my mother.

    Here in the quiet of the Sept…

    I feel close to her.

    - I know it sounds foolish.

    - I don’t think it’s foolish.

    - I don’t.

    - Good…

    because I thought you might try.


    If not for me, then, perhaps for them.


    What do I say?

    Whatever you wish.

    It’s only for you and the gods to know.

    (poignant music playing)


    I want him to see me as

    more than his little girl.

    Mine own father does not know

    the language of girls either.

    (Rhaenyra chuckles)

    When I wish to talk with him…

    I know that I must make the effort.

    ♪ ♪

    Thank you.

    ♪ ♪

    Corlys Velaryon: Your Grace.

    King Viserys:

    I’m glad we could meet.

    I know tempers ran hot today,

    and I wanted to assure you

    how much I value the bond

    between our houses.

    Rhaenys is my favorite

    cousin after all.

    I wish to apologize for the tenor

    at the Small Council today, Your Grace.

    It was not my intent to make offense.

    Your fleet is one of the realm’s

    most important assets, Lord Corlys.

    But you must understand,

    as King, it is my

    obligation to avoid war

    until such time it is unavoidable.

    None among us desire open war.

    Might I speak plainly, Your Grace?

    I always welcome the unfettered

    thoughts of my council.

    I fear that the eyes of our enemies

    are presently fixed on the Red Keep.

    The Queen has passed.

    A girl has been named

    heir to the Iron Throne,

    the first in its history.

    The King’s brother, so disinherited,

    has claimed the Targaryen seat

    on Dragonstone

    without challenge.

    And now, a foreign power

    has established a colony

    in our most critical shipping lane.

    You paint such an aspirant

    portrait of my reign, Lord Corlys.

    It is an honest one, cousin.

    At the moment, The Crown is

    perceived as being vulnerable.

    And a blind incursion in the Stepstones

    is the only way to demonstrate

    that we are not?


    To elude a storm,

    you can either sail into it

    or around it.

    But you must never await its coming.

    Do you have a specific

    course of action to propose,

    my lord?

    Join our families.

    Wed our daughter, Laena.

    Unite the two great surviving

    Valyrian houses.

    With the Targaryen dragons

    and the Velaryon fleet bound in blood,

    you can show the realm

    that The Crown’s strongest days

    are ahead…

    not behind.

    (tense music playing)

    I must admit…

    I haven’t given marriage much thought.

    It hasn’t even been half

    a year since Aemma passed.

    The realm expects you

    to take a new wife

    soon or late, Your Grace,

    to strengthen your line

    and produce more heirs.

    You could not ask for

    a stronger match than Laena.

    ♪ ♪

    (crickets chirping)

    We haven’t spoken much…


    A regret of mine.

    We should be free to speak

    our minds to one another.

    You can say whatever you’d like.

    You are the King.


    I loved your mother…

    very much.

    As did I.

    (tapping on table)


    Ser Harrold provided a fine

    field of tourney knights.


    But in questioning them,

    I discovered that Ser Criston

    was the only man among them

    - with true battle experience.

    - (chuckles)

    He’ll make a fine

    knight of the Kingsguard.

    - Today at Small Council…

    - Pay it no mind.

    - I thought I might have had some insight.

    - You’re young.

    You will learn.

    Mellos: This is our best chance

    to save the digit, Your Grace.

    The maggots will remove the dead flesh

    and hopefully stop

    the advance of the rot.

    I held an audience earlier today

    with Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys.

    That was most charitable

    of you, Your Grace.

    I’m sure Lord Corlys

    appreciated the spirit of it.

    He proposed a marriage.

    To whom, Your Grace?

    The Lady Laena.

    To combine the strength of our houses,

    and demonstrate my reign’s

    strongest days are ahead,

    not behind.

    Lord Corlys has

    overreached, Your Grace.

    Such matters must be discussed

    with the Small Council.

    That is what I’m doing, presently.

    So… what is your

    advice, dear Otto.


    The Lady Laena…

    is young, Your Grace.

    Indeed, but the wounds

    made by the Great Council

    still linger, my King.

    A match with their daughter

    would go a long way towards

    sealing the breach

    and uniting the two

    great Valyrian houses

    would certainly signal

    unity throughout the realm

    and beyond.

    The Grand Maester’s reasoning is sound.

    I do fear what Rhaenyra might think.

    Mellos: What does it

    matter, Your Grace?

    Her mother has passed.

    Her father must propagate

    the royal line.

    I, uh, dearly loved my own lady wife.

    The pain of her passing

    still haunts me.

    And to be compelled to…

    replace her for duty’s sake.

    You are the King.

    But I do not envy you.

    (birds chirping)

    (insects buzzing)

    What was it like

    flying the Black Dread?

    You were Balerion’s last rider.

    Only for a short time before he died.

    With Balerion

    died the last memory of Valyria of Old.

    But Vhagar still lives…

    - somewhere.

    - (King Viserys sighs)

    Bit too large for the Dragonpit.

    Some would say too large for our world.

    - Do you know where she nests?

    - I’m sorry?

    Do you know where Vhagar is now?

    Um, the Dragonkeepers

    believe she made home

    somewhere on the coast

    of the Narrow Sea.

    The workers at Spicetown report

    hearing her song at times.

    - They say it is a sad thing.

    - (King Viserys sighs)

    I imagine even dragons get lonely.

    Your Grace…

    it would be a great honor

    to join our houses

    as they were in Old Valyria.

    I would give you many children

    of pure Valyrian blood

    so that we might strengthen

    the royal line

    and the realm.

    Is that what your father

    told you to say?

    What did your mother tell you?

    That I wouldn’t have to bed you

    until I turned 14.


    (pensive music playing)

    ♪ ♪

    It bothers you, does it not?

    My father is a king.

    It is his duty to take a new wife

    and strengthen his line.

    I did not ask for a lesson in politics.

    I asked whether this bothers you.

    Laena is your daughter, Princess.

    Does it bother you?

    Of course, it does.

    But I understand the order of things.

    I’m not sure you do.

    If you mean to elicit

    some anger from me,

    you should know that

    you’re failing, Princess.

    Quite the opposite.

    Whether it’s to my daughter

    or to someone else’s,

    your father will remarry

    sooner than late.

    His new wife will produce new heirs,

    and chances are better than not

    that one of those will be male.

    And when that boy comes of age

    and your father has passed,

    the men of the realm

    will expect him to be heir,

    not you.

    Because that is the order of things.

    When I’m Queen,

    I will create a new order.

    (Princess Rhaenys chuckles)

    How I wish that could be, Rhaenyra.

    But the men of the realm

    already had their opportunity

    to appoint a ruling queen

    at the Great Council

    and they denied it.

    They denied you, Princess Rhaenys.

    “The Queen Who Never Was.”

    But they bent the knee to me

    and called me heir to the throne.

    Do you remind your father’s men of that

    as you carry their cups?

    Here is the hard truth,

    which no one else has

    the heart to tell you.

    Men would sooner put

    the realm to the torch

    than see a woman

    ascend the Iron Throne.

    (tense music playing)

    And your father is no fool.

    King Viserys: The Small Council

    is urging me to remarry.

    It seems the realm

    wants for a new queen.

    A good and kind queen will

    give comfort to your subjects.

    Does the Small Council have

    a particular lady in mind?

    - Uh…

    Lord Corlys Velaryon has offered

    the hand of his daughter,

    the Lady Laena.

    A very strong match, Your Grace.

    I must admit, I,

    I don’t know Laena very well.

    I’m sure that she is good and kind,

    and that she will enjoy your

    company, as I have, Your Grace.

    I brought you something.

    I asked the stonemasons to mend it.


    This is, um,

    a very kind gesture, Alicent.

    - Very kind.

    - (knocking on door)

    - Come.

    - (door opens)


    The Hand, Your Grace.

    (door closes)

    Your Grace, I’ve called

    the Small Council

    to an emergency session.


    I think it best you hear it directly.

    Very well.

    (door opens)

    (door closes)





    - Daemon.

    - The Prince left a missive,

    which I believe might explain.

    “It is the pleasure

    of Daemon Targaryen,

    “the Prince of Dragonstone

    “and rightful heir to the Iron Throne,

    “to announce that he is

    to take a second wife

    “in the tradition of Old Valyria.

    “She is to assume the title

    Lady Mysaria of Dragonstone.

    “Her Grace is with child

    “and is to have a dragon’s egg

    placed in the babe’s cradle

    in the custom

    of House Targaryen.”

    The Prince has invited you

    to his wedding, Your Grace.

    - It is in two days’ time.

    - Gods be good.

    Who is Lady Mysaria?

    - Mellos: We believe–

    - Otto: Daemon’s whore.

    - This is nothing less than sedition.

    - I strongly agree, sire.

    My brother wishes to provoke me.

    To answer is to give him what he wants.

    The realm is watching, Your Grace.

    King Viserys:

    What would you have me do?

    Send him to the Wall?

    Perhaps I could put

    his head on a spike.


    Daemon has seized Dragonstone,

    has surrounded himself

    with an army of gold cloaks,

    and has now stolen a dangerous weapon…


    ♪ ♪



    Assemble a detachment, Otto.

    I will go to Dragonstone

    and drag Daemon back

    - to face justice myself.

    - Otto: Your Grace.

    My apologies, Your Grace,

    but I cannot allow it.

    It’s too dangerous.

    Daemon is without limit.

    Let me go to Dragonstone.

    ♪ ♪

    (pensive music playing)

    (Otto sighs)

    You’re the most comely girl at court.

    Why do you destroy yourself?


    Will you see the King tonight?

    If you wish it.

    - Good day, Ser Criston.

    - My Lady.

    I’ve assembled 20 of your best

    household guards, my Lord Hand.

    Sir Harrold will also join us.

    (tense music playing)

    Alicent: Please look after the

    Hand, Ser Criston.

    ♪ ♪

    (waves crashing)

    ♪ ♪

    (footsteps approaching)

    ♪ ♪

    Welcome to Dragonstone, Otto.

    Otto: Your occupation of

    this island is at an end.

    You’re to relinquish the dragon’s egg,

    disband your army,

    banish your whore…

    and leave Dragonstone

    by order of His Grace,

    - King Viserys…

    - Where is the King? I don’t see him.

    His Grace would never lower himself

    to entertain such a mummer’s farce.

    Ser Crispin, wasn’t it?

    Ser Criston Cole:

    Ser Criston Cole, my Prince.

    Ah, yes, apologies.

    I couldn’t recall.

    Perhaps my Prince recalls when

    I knocked him off his horse.

    (chuckles) Very good.

    Otto: This is a truly pathetic

    show, Daemon.

    Are you so desperate

    for the King’s attention

    that you’ve resorted to skulking about

    - like a common cutpurse?

    - I’m simply keeping

    with the traditions of my house,

    the same as my brother

    did for his heir.

    Those traditions are for the

    trueborn children of royalty,

    not for bastards fathered

    on a common whore.

    Lady Mysaria is to be my wife.


    This is an abomination.

    With every breath you soil your name,

    your house, and your brother’s reign.

    Our love does not know

    titles and traditions.

    And what of you, men of the City Watch?

    Aiding the Prince in his treason?

    Prince Daemon: The King

    made me their commander.

    They are loyal to me.

    You’ve come for the egg.

    Here it is.

    Are you mad?

    - You’d never survive this.

    - Well, happily, neither would you.

    To choose violence, here,

    is to declare war against your King.


    Even if it ends in the death

    of your unborn child and its mother?

    ♪ ♪


    (Caraxes screeching)

    - (rumbling)

    - (screeching)


    (Caraxes grumbling)

    All of you…

    sheathe the fucking steel.

    (distant dragon rumbling)

    ♪ ♪

    (wings flapping)

    (Syrax screeching)

    ♪ ♪


    ♪ ♪

    (dragons screeching)

    ♪ ♪

    - What are you doing here, Princess?

    - Preventing bloodshed.

    Ser Criston, please escort

    the Princess to safety.

    Take care not to startle Syrax,

    my lords.

    She’s rather protective of me.













    (waves crashing)

    I’m right here, Uncle…

    the object of your ire…

    the reason that you were disinherited.

    If you wish to be restored as heir,

    you’ll need to kill me.

    So, do it.

    And be done with all this bother.

    ♪ ♪

    ♪ ♪

    (footsteps departing)

    (intense music playing)


    (Syrax screeches)

    (grumbles, roars)

    (triumphant music swells)

    (wind blowing)

    (metal clinking)

    (Prince Daemon sighs)

    Lady Mysaria: You announced

    that we were to be wed?

    On the morrow.

    And that I was with child.

    Your child.

    Well, perhaps when we are wed,

    we can make that true.

    I ensured long ago

    that I would never be

    threatened by childbirth.

    Good. Children can be such

    irritating creatures.

    You swore to protect me, Daemon.

    Dragonstone is quite secure.

    Until the King decides to

    reclaim his ancestral seat.

    His men might not put

    the Prince’s head on a spike,

    but what would they do

    with the common whore

    he claims he’s taken to wife

    and made with child?

    No one will harm you.

    I have been sold as property

    more times than I care to count,

    beginning in a homeland

    I can no longer recall.

    Most of my years have been spent

    living in terror.

    You’re safe with me, I swear it.

    You are Targaryen.

    You can afford to play

    your stupid games with the King,

    but I cannot.

    I didn’t come into your

    service wanting gold or power

    or station.

    - I came to you to be liberated.

    - Liberated.

    From what?


    (pensive music playing)

    ♪ ♪

    - (door closes)

    - No, please, Lord Lyonel.

    I have come looking for

    an unencumbered opinion.

    That’s all I would

    ever give, Your Grace.

    Ever since my name was read by the

    archmaesters at the Great Council,

    I have felt Corlys Velaryon’s

    envious gaze staring at me

    from across the Blackwater.

    You sit upon the highest seat

    in the realm, Your Grace.

    Proud men don’t like having to look up.

    Laena Velaryon.

    Lord Corlys is your Master of Ships

    and she is the eldest daughter

    of the wealthiest house in the realm.

    She comes from unimpeachable

    Velaryon stock

    and she has Targaryen blood.

    - What’s to mislike?

    - She is 12.

    She will mature.

    I never asked to remarry.

    As King, you have a claim

    on all things.

    Even those you don’t want.

    Marriage is not an obligation

    you can put off for long.

    What if I was to reject

    Lord Corlys’s proposal?

    He would not be like to take it well.

    I fear nothing short of a direct line

    to the Iron Throne would satisfy him.

    You should also consider

    that we find ourselves

    on the precipice of war

    in the Stepstones.

    And the Sea Snake holds claim to

    nearly half the realm’s ships.

    He would not dare withhold them

    in the face of the realm’s need.

    - Who is he to hector me?

    - No one, Your Grace.

    But Driftmark makes for a better ally

    than it does an enemy.

    The Sea Snake has made

    a calculated reach,

    a fair play for a man of his position.

    If you truly want

    my unencumbered opinion…

    I do.

    You should wed Laena Velaryon,

    Your Grace.

    Sate Lord Corlys

    and fix him at your side,

    - permanently, as an ally.

    - (door opens)

    Ser Steffon Darklyn:

    Your Grace,

    the Princess has returned

    from Dragonstone.


    (tense music playing)


    Your Grace.

    King Viserys:

    You disobeyed me.

    You fled King’s Landing without a word

    and you acted without

    The Crown’s leave.

    You are my only heir.

    You could’ve been killed.

    May I sit?

    You went to Dragonstone.

    And retrieved the egg

    without bloodshed.

    A feat I’m not sure Ser Otto

    could’ve accomplished alone.

    Yes, well…


    I sometimes forget

    how alike you both were.


    Your mother’s absence

    is a wound that will never heal.

    Without her…

    the Red Keep has lost a warmth

    that I dare say it will never recover.

    It pleases me to hear you say this.

    To know that I’m not alone in my grief.

    I wish I had known better

    what to say to you in the aftermath.

    I struggled to realize that my daughter

    had so quickly become a woman grown.

    But I know…

    she understands what

    is now expected of me.

    The King must take a new wife.

    I could never replace your mother.

    No more than I intend

    to replace you as heir.

    But you are my only heir

    and our line is vulnerable,

    too easily ended.

    And by marrying again,

    I may begin to ensure

    - that we are better defended.

    - Against whom?

    Whomever may dare to challenge us.

    I do not wish to make us estranged.

    You are the King…

    and so, your first duty

    is to the realm.

    Mother would’ve understood this.

    Just as I do.

    (bell tolls)

    (birds cawing)

    (pensive music playing)

    (door opens)

    (indistinct chatter)

    ♪ ♪

    (door closes)

    Good morrow, my lords.

    I have decided to take a new wife.

    I intend to marry…

    the Lady Alicent Hightower

    before spring’s end.

    This is an absurdity.

    My house is Valyrian,

    the greatest power in the realm.

    And I am your King.

    (tense music playing)

    (door opens)

    (door closes)

    ♪ ♪

    King Viserys:


    (door opens)

    ♪ ♪

    House Velaryon’s origins

    reach back to Old Valyria.

    More ancient even than

    House Targaryen…

    according to some texts.

    But unlike the Targaryens,

    we were no dragonlords.

    For centuries, my house had to

    scratch out an existence from the sea

    with grit and luck.

    When I ascended the Driftwood Throne…

    I knew what I wanted.

    So I went out and seized it.

    Unlike every other lord of the realm,

    I can say that I built

    my house’s high seat

    with the strength of mine own back.

    (tense music playing)

    I’ve always thought of

    you and I as having been

    made from the same cloth.

    ♪ ♪

    I wasn’t aware you had

    a king for a brother.

    We’re both men who have had to cut

    our own way through the world.

    We’ve been passed over…

    too often.

    Did you call me to Driftmark

    to remind me of my

    low standing, Lord Corlys,

    or was there some other reason?

    You’ve heard of the troubles

    in the Stepstones?


    Some Myrish Prince

    is feeding Westerosi

    sailors to the crabs.

    Corlys: I have been petitioning

    the King to send my navy

    into the territory,

    but he’s denied me.

    - It was never my brother’s strongest trait.

    - What?

    Being King.

    Corlys: The Crabfeeder is backed

    by powerful entities

    within the Free Cities who

    wish to see Westeros weakened.

    - (sailor grunting)

    - And the King’s failures

    have allowed him

    to accumulate strength.

    If those shipping lanes fall,

    my house will be crippled.

    And I will not have Driftmark

    beggared while our King

    idles himself with feasts

    and balls and tourneys.

    I will speak of my brother as I wish.

    You will not.

    ♪ ♪

    Waiting in the Stepstones

    is a chance for you to prove your worth

    to any who might yet doubt it.

    We are the realm’s second sons, Daemon.

    Our worth is not given.

    It must be made.

    ♪ ♪