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- The name on their passports is Poole.
P, double O, I, E.
All three of them.
Tarr told his woman,
so we understand, in case of difficulties,
she should come to you.
- Sign this, Peter, would you?
Stupid bloody cabaret.
Percy gets more insufferable every day.
[horn blaring] - Get over, you sodden snail.
- Peter. - Tan. That bastard, Tan.
- Peter, slow down.
Slow down.
- The file on Testify seemed a bit thin.
I hope it was worth the sweat.
- Ricki Tarfs not lied to us, Peter,
not in any material way.
He's simply done what agents the world over do:
failed to tell us the whole story.
On the other hand, he has been rather clever.
- Are you actually pleased with him?
- Well, yes.
We now know that Source Merlin works to Moscow Center,
because that's where Merlin's information
on Ricki Tarr must have come from,
from Karla.
[intense instrumental music]
II
[suspenseful instrumental music]
II
II
[car door shuts]
- Ricki's been a lot better today, sir.
Not nearly so nervy,
paid at his football pools this morning.
And this afternoon,
we planted some trees in the garden.
And, uh, then this evening, we had a nice game of cards.
- Has he been out alone? - Oh, no, Mr. Smiley.
- Used the telephone? - No, wouldn't dare, sir.
- Has he talked about his daughter Danny
or her mother?
- Well, he did over the weekend, sir,
but, well, he's sort of cooled off about them since.
I think it's in view of the emotional side.
- Did he ever mention any arrangements
for meeting them again?
Anything about passports?
- No, sir.
- What has he talked about, for God's sake?
- Well, mostly the Russian lady, Irina.
Oh, he mentions her name a lot, Irina.
He likes to read her diary.
He says he's gonna make Moscow Center
swap the mole for Irina, when the mole's been caught
and all this has been cleared up.
And then he's gonna buy a little place in Scotland.
Oh, and he says he'll see me right too.
Get me a big job in the Circus.
I, uh...
I just listen, of course.
- Right.
[car doors opening]
You don't post those football pool coupons,
do you, Fawn?
- Oh, no, Mr. Smiley.
- Well, let's hope he doesn't have a win.
That would be expensive for us.
Thank you for your help, Ms. Brimley.
Sorry to impose on you.
- He's gone to bed.
[maps]
[inhales and sighs]
I must ask you once more.
What did you do with the two Swiss escape passports
you took with you to Lisbon?
- I told you. Burned them.
' [sighs]
When you bought your fake British passport in Istanbul,
a passport for yourself
in the name of Richard Henry Poole,
did you buy any others from the same source?
- Why? Why should I?
- To protect your child and her mother.
That seems quite reasonable.
After all, it wouldn't be a very gallant act
to leave the woman and the child you love
to the mercy of the Moscow hood on your tail
while you escape to all this VIP protection.
It's horrible to think of,
truly horrible to contemplate the lengths Karla might go to
in order to obtain your silence
or your services.
But perhaps what you actually did
and forgot to tell us about,
was to burn the British passports
you obtained for Mrs. Poole and Ms. Danny Poole
but kept your own to convince Karla's footpads
you thought it was still safe.
Then, probably,
you made travel bookings in the name of the Poole family
for the same reason.
You doctored the Swiss passports for Danny and her mother
and made other arrangements for them...
like staying in Marseilles, perhaps.
- [grunting]
[blows landing]
[whimpers]
Ugh.
[moaning]
- I don't know where they are,
but I'm sure no harm has come to them.
Does that satisfy you?
- Maybe you should keep a closer eye
on your own damn woman and leave mine alone.
- No, Peter.
- [Spits]
- Perhaps it's just as well.
I shouldn't know where you've hidden them,
so long as you don't try to communicate,
unless, of course, you want me to help in some way,
money or whatever.
- No need.
Let's trust each other, shall we?
Are we friends again, Mr. Guillam?
- It won't be long now.
Have you got all you need?
- Can I have my gun back?
- Yes.
Oh, why not, Peter?
' [sighs]
[door handle rattles]
- Do we buy that? - Oh, yes.
I told you he'd been clever.
A little bit of the truth is indispensable
in the games agents play.
You know that.
Ricki put his family in safekeeping
and found his own way home.
He fooled the Russians.
If Karla had a deal with him,
do you think you and I would be alive and well
and living in hope?
Not by now, I think.
[suspenseful instrumental music]
II
[engine turning over]
II
[peaceful classical music]
II
Uh, let it breathe a little.
- Oh, and just leave it. We'll pour it when we're ready.
Does anyone know Karla's real name?
And how old is he?
- Another mystery.
Decades of his life unaccounted for.
So many of the people he's worked with
have a way of dying off.
He was in England in 1936 and '41.
That's documented.
We can assume it was sometime during that period
he recruited our mole, Gerald.
I met him once... in Delhi.
Oh, this was long before
we came to know him as the legendary Karla.
In the mid-'50s,
Moscow Center was in pieces on the floor,
wholesale purgings and shootings.
And as a result?
Defection everywhere.
I became a kind of commercial traveler.
The whole world was my territory:
inspecting the goods, fixing the terms,
disposing as seemed best,
on London's instructions, of course.
Well, I found myself off to India
where the authorities had arrested,
at our request,
on some trumped-up immigration nonsense,
a Mr. Gerstmann,
Karla's name at that time.
He was on his way back to Moscow from San Francisco,
except that he didn't know when he left California
that he was Moscow-bound.
He'd been told to rendezvous
with a Tass correspondent in Delhi.
The message from the Tass man was an airplane ticket and...
"Don't ask me any questions, comrade."
Karla was in disgrace.
Summoned...
And doomed.
[bell rings]
There were two other things he didn't know.
The first was that we'd intercepted
the radio signal directing him to Delhi.
The second was that the San Francisco network
he'd organized had been rolled up
hide and hair the day he left.
[bells ringing]
Could we take those things off his hands?
I only have to shout for you, don't I?
[sighs]
Mr. Gerstmann.
You are the Cold War orphan.
If you go home to Moscow as ordered,
you'll be either shot
or sent to die in one of the camps.
Wouldn't you prefer to ask us for protection?
We have no powers of permanent arrest
and our arrangement with the Americans
was that they hit your agents and we make you this invitation.
I can't see an alternative for you.
If you cooperate,
we can give you a new start, a new identity,
seclusion, a modest amount of money.
Now, why don't you start by telling me your true name?
[clears throat]
Would you like a cigarette?
[smacking cigarette box]
I know you're a chain smoker.
Oh.
I know this is what you smoke.
Look
I'm not offering you wealth or smart women
or your choice of fast cars.
I know you haven't any use for those things.
And I'm not gonna make any claims
about the moral superiority of the West.
I'm sure you can see through our values,
just as I can see through yours in the East.
You and I have spent our lives
looking for the weaknesses in each other's systems.
I'm sure each of us has experienced
innumerable technical satisfactions
in our wretched Cold War.
[people speaking indistinctly in the distance]
But now your own side is going to shoot you...
for nothing...
for misdemeanors you have not committed
because of a power struggle within your own hierarchy
because, probably, of someone's treachery...
or sheer incompetence.
[sighs]
[sniffs]
I'm sure both of us, when we were young,
subscribed to great visions...
but not anymore.
After all you've seen...
you can't still be committed to that old grand design.
You know it's achieved nothing
except new forms of the old misery.
Don't destroy yourself.
They're not worth it.
[sniffs]
Do you know where your wife is?
I mean at this moment?
You have to think about her.
She'll have to make a new life.
Do you have a friend,
one really good friend who could look after her?
Uh, perhaps we could get in touch with her secretly.
If you stay with us,
we might be able to arrange something,
an exchange for someone your people want returned.
But if you go back,
it can do her nothing but harm.
She'll be cold-shouldered,
suspected.
The best she can hope for
is to be allowed to see you before you're shot...
Another meaningless firing squad.
Guard.
[bell rings]
[bell rings]
[shackles jangle]
- What did Control have to say when you got back?
- I hoped to God they do shoot him.
But they didn't.
His boss was the one who faced the firing squad
as it turned out.
Mr. Gerstmann survived
and thrived...
how he thrived.
He went on to build his legend and become the Karla we know,
the Karla who, all the time he sat looking at me,
was no doubt thinking of Gerald the mole.
Have you noticed, Peter,
that whenever I really trouble of our acquaintances
with my questions,
he'll raise the matter of my failure as a husband
to confound me?
Instructive.
- Ricki Tarr tried it twice.
- Unimportant in his case,
spite.
Well, that was sumptuous.
That boy, Fawn,
good at his judo, isn't he?
- Karate, George.
Judo is what Fawn would call
"Just your little cuddle, Mr. Smiley."
[snaps finger]
- Well, I don't think even Toby Esterhase's people
would follow us here.
The food's well below the standard
they've come to expect.
- So Karla's fireproof.
He can't be bought, and he can't be beaten.
- Not fireproof, because he's a fanatic.
I may have behaved like a soft dolt,
the very archetype of a flabby Western liberal,
but I'd rather be my kind of fool than his.
One day, that lack of moderation
will be Karla's downfall.
[suspenseful instrumental music]
II
[engine turning over]
He's never touched radio
since the debacle in San Francisco.
Cut it right out of his handwriting.
His agents aren't allowed near him.
- That's something else you and Karla have in common.
- Yes, I am prejudiced against radio men:
tiresome breed- overstrung, unreliable.
What's the other thing?
- Well, the cigarette lighter.
I assume he still has it.
- As far as I know, Peter.
- Sorry, George. - Not at all.
How do you feel, Peter?
- I'm all right.
- After Delhi, you know,
Control gave me three months' leave
without the option.
When this is over,
I hope you'll take it easy for a while.
We're not quite there, but nearly.
Peter, have you got the hand brake on?
[car horn blaring]
[clock ticking]
[siren blaring]
[suspenseful instrumental music]
II
[groans]
II
II
[birds chirping]
[car horn honks]
Operation Witchcraft.
Alleline to Minister:
"Extremely secret and personal.
'We spoke.
"Merlin, as you may have known for some time,
"is not one source but several.
It would do the treasury no harm to learn..."
Percy was enjoying himself, wasn't he?
"To learn that Merlin's
"10,000 Swiss francs a month in salary
"and a similar figure for expenses and running costs
"are scarcely excessive
when the cloth has to be cut so many ways."
Then he adds,
"Nevertheless, I regard it as paramount
"that knowledge of the London House
"and the purpose for which it is used
remain absolutely at a minimum."
Well, in a sense, Percy Alleline's
quite right about Merlin.
Of course, Merlin represents several sources,
various departments of Moscow Center
with Karla queuing them in on the basis
of the most timely material of the given moment.
Sometimes, he likes to direct Circus attention
to a topical subject;
sometimes, to deflect it.
For example,
after Ricki Tarfs encounter with Irina in Lisbon,
Merlin delivered some vivid insights
on the ideological penetration of the United States.
- But Karla doesn't know
what Tarr's done with the information from Irina.
- Which brings us to your interrogation by Alleline
and his reference to Tarr's probable rollover here
in muddying pools, et cetera.
Merlin's message on Tarr, lsuggesL
was that Ricki would be trying to sell
to someone in London on Karla's behalf
fictitious material about a traitor in the Circus.
Nothing muddier than that, is there?
Remember, Merlin is totally believed.
So now we have a clear connection
between Merlin and the mole.
And at the heart of this beautifully symmetrical plot
is a house in London
for which the treasury paid £60,000.
Plus another 10
for making it more to Merlin's liking,
or Gerald's.
' [sighs]
Fascinating, George.
Thank you.
And how do you suggest I explain to my minister,
least painfully, that Merlin's a fraud
and he'll have to tell the Americans so?
He's devoted to Merlin.
- Impress upon him that whatever he's buying
from the Americans with Merlin's discredited currency
is going straight to Moscow via Gerald the mole.
That should do the trick.
- This document is not one you've asked me to bring.
It arrived only today.
Source unknown.
According to a recently released prisoner
from Lubyanka jail,
Moscow Center held a secret execution
in the punishment block in March.
The victims were three of its own functionaries.
All were shot in the back of the neck.
One was a woman.
- Ricki Tarr mustn't know.
It's vital he gets no wind of this.
God knows what he'd do or not do
if he found out Irina was dead.
And we may need to make further use of him.
- Do you really believe all that guff
about Tarr being in love with her?
The little homestead in the Highlands?
The avenging lover?
The honorable Ricki Tarr?
- He may feel compelled, Peter.
Everybody has a loyalty somewhere.
He mustn't know.
- I agree.
Now, George, I've brought what I could find
on Jim Prideaux, such as it is.
- Thank you.
- Prideaux and Bill Haydon were really very close, you know.
I didn't realize.
- Yes.
Thank you.
Operation Testify.
We still need to understand what happened
or, rather, why it happened.
The file you borrowed, Peter, does at least
give us a nudge in the right direction.
I think I know who to talk to next.
Your day was hardly wasted.
- I am glad of that, George.
- We've traced Prideaux. He's become a teacher.
Thursgood Preparatory School for Boys.
It's in the west country.
- Right.
- Three, two, one, go!
[boys yelling]
[engine rumbling]
[boys yelling over each other]
[boys yelling]
[boys yelling]
All: Put the brake on.
Gear in neutral.
Switch off ignition.
- Please, sir? How long, sir?
What's my time, sir?
- Timekeeper, time please, Rhino.
- Please, sir. How long?
- Well, done, Roach.
Knew you would second time round.
- Sir, how long?
- Now then, Jumbo.
See that man?
Who is he, then? Is he number four?
- No, sir.
- Anybody seen him before?
All: No, sir.
- He's not staff, and he's not village,
so who is he, a beggar man, thief?
- Tinker tailor soldier sailor.
All: Rich man, poor man,
beggar man, thief.
- Why doesn't he look this way?
Something funny about that.
Here's a bunch of boys
burning up a car around a playing field
and he doesn't even give them a glance.
You would, wouldn't you?
All: Yes, sir.
- Doesn't he like boys? Doesn't he like cars?
Doesn't even look at that car.
Best Britain ever made in years out of production.
[bird squawking]
All right, gather around.
Come on.
All right, now, anybody sees him again,
let me know,
or any other sinister bodies, understand?
All: Yes, sir.
- Don't want juju men wandering around
pretending they don't know we exist.
First glimpse, tell me.
All right?
- Yes, sir.
- You know, Jumbo,
no hold with odd bods wandering around a school,
last place I was at, we had a whole gang broke in.
Cleared the place out:
house cups, money, boys' watches.
Nothing's sacred to types like that.
We don't want him swiping the Alvis.
[growls] It's irreplaceable,
thanks to socialism.
Color of hair, Jumbo?
- Sort of light-colored, sir.
- Height? - About the same as you, sir.
- Age? - Well...
hard to say, really, sir.
- Go as he was, at that distance.
But you would know him again, Jumbo, for sure.
Best watcher in the unit, Jumbo Roach is, eh?
Long as he keeps his specs clean.
[animal screeches]
' [sighs]
[sighs]
[sniffles]
[choir warming up]
[animal screeches]
[Organ music]
[choir singing]
II
II
[whimpering slightly]
[gasps lightly]
[whimpering slightly]
[exhales sharply]
[animal screeches, dog barking]
[footsteps rustling in leaves]
[dirt crunching]
[animal screeches]
- [gasps]
[groans in pain]
Please, sir.
- Oh, it's you, Jumbo.
- I broke my leg, sir.
- Oh, dear.
Hm, can you get UP?
Now, slowly.
Slowly.
Fell off the bricks, did you, Jumbo?
Let's have a look.
Ah, nothing broken.
Just a graze.
Matron will soon put that right.
One thing gives you a good excuse
for getting in late,
missing evensong.
Tripped over in a lane, is that what you will tell her?
We've got a secret, haven't we?
I can trust you. I know that.
We're good at keeping secrets, loners like you and me.
- Is it because of that man?
Would you shoot him?
Are you working undercover
like Bulldog Drummond in the book?
Some of the boys wanted to call you Bulldog,
but we thought Rhino was better,
bigger than a Bulldog.
- I, uh...
I used to be a soldier, Jumbo.
What you saw just now, that's a souvenir.
You know, it's like this.
How I got it, they're both secrets.
I keep 'em to myself.
You understand, don't you, Jumbo, eh?
- Yes, sir.
- Knew you would.
Knew you would.
Good night, Jumbo.
- Night, sir.
Thank you, sir.
[train whistle whines]
[animal screeches]
[suspenseful instrumental music]
II
- Well, well, long time no see.
- Hello, Sam.
- Care for it?
Very impressive. - [chuckles]
[phone rings]
It's better than selling washing machines anyway.
It's a bit odd putting a dinner jacket on
at 10:00 in the morning, of course.
[phone rings]
Reminds me of diplomatic cover, come to think of it.
[chandelier clinking]
Believe it or not, it's straight,
if it makes you change.
We get all the help we need from the arithmetic.
- I'm sure you do.
- My employers might let me invest a few pennies of my own
before too long.
They're tough boys, but very go-ahead, you know,
rather like we were in the old days.
So...
what can I do for you?
- I want to talk to you
about the night Jim Prideaux was shot,
the night of Operation Testify, which is what it was called,
in case you didn't know.
- Hm. Writing your memoirs, George?
- We are reopening the case.
- Who's this "we," old boy?
- Lacon called me and with the Minister's blessing.
I can give you a telephone number to confirm,
although I'd prefer not.
- All power corrupts, but some must govern,
and in that case, Brother Lacon
will reluctantly scramble to the top of the heap.
- The record's been filleted.
Of what there is on the file,
the most useful piece of information
is that you were duty officer that night.
- Yes.
Yes, I'd just come back from Tokyo,
a three-year stint.
Nobody seemed to have any plans for me,
so I thought I'd push off to the south of France
for a month's leave.
And then old Mendel, Control's minder,
picked me up in the passage
and marched me off to see Control.
The whole place felt weird.
There was nobody about,
except the radio and code people.
That harridan, Molly somebody or other,
was monitoring, a busy little body.
- Molly Purcell.
- You were in Berlin, Bill Haydon was up-country,
and Percy Alleline was in Scotland.
Control seemed to have cleared the decks.
My God, he was a shock.
I'd heard he wasn't his old self anymore,
but I hadn't been prepared for this.
It was like opening a coffin lid.
He didn't waste time on any pleasantries.
- I need somebody good to man the switchboard.
He's got to be an old hand.
I could bring in somebody from one of the outstations,
but you're better,
because you've been away for so long,
away from the in-fighting and the vendettas
around this place...
You don't know what I'm talking about.
That's good.
Just do exactly what I tell you.
There could be a crisis tonight.
I've got a man doing a special job.
It's of the utmost importance to this service.
The service, it's for us.
It could change everything for us.
Your job tonight is to act as cutout,
cutout between me
and whatever goes on in the rest of the building.
If anything comes in,
radio signal, phone call, letter, anything at all,
no matter how trivial it seems,
you are to wait, wait until the coast is clear,
and then bring it straight to me by hand, Sam.
You don't use the internal phones.
You don't put anything down on paper for future reference.
Is that understood?
And when it's all over,
you're not to breathe a word about it.
Never.
Not to anybody. Not to Smiley.
Not to Haydon. Not to Bland.
Nobody.
- What if I have to send out something?
- Only what I tell you.
- The defensive weaknesses,
have I think cost them the match,
which could now be sewn up by Paul Mariner...
[can cracks open]
Or by Woods-
two are still down-
or by Mirren
or by Woods.
And in the end, by none of them. Unbelievable.
Paul Mariner has completely blanked,
and he deserves a great deal better than that,
because I think by a shade, he's my man of the match.
- Bullocks.
[door handle rattles]
[clock bells chime]
[clock ticking]
[sighs]
[phone ringing]
This is duty officer.
Hm?
Right. Yes, I see.
Yeah, well, I have to call you back.
It all sounds very unlikely.
[knock at door] - Collins?
This is urgent.
- Well, it's open.
- There's all hell broken out in the Czechoslovakia.
Half of it's coded, but there's enough that isn't.
- Prague or Brno? - Brno.
[phone rings]
- Yes'?
Damn it, Molly. Keep listening.
[suspenseful instrumental music]
II
Control.
Oh, Control.
The resident clerk from the foreign office
came on first with a story
from Reuters' head man in London.
Molly picked the same thing up on the radio.
And Reuters and a couple of Fleet Street papers
have already had another go at the foreign office.
They're saying that a British spy
has been shot in Brno.
The Czechs are telling the world
about an act of gross provocation
by a Western power.
They haven't named the dead man yet.
Can I have a brief, please?
Control, I need a brief.
We must say something.
Do you want me to deny it?
A flat denial, just to start with?
Do you want me to get someone else in?
Do you want to come downstairs and handle it yourself?
- It's deniable he had foreign documents.
No one could know he was British at this stage.
There hasn't been time.
Even if he's not dead.
Find Smiley.
- He's in Berlin.
- Yes.
Well, anyone will do.
It makes no difference.
Tell Mendel to get me a taxi.
[phone clicks]
- You sent Mendel home.
[siren blaring]
[intense instrumental music]
II
[flipping switches]
- He's been named.
- Hello?
Hello. Hello.
Is that Mrs. Smiley?
[rattling]
[machine whirring]
You got my message, then.
- Why did you leave it?
- I rang George Smiley's house,
just in case his wife happened to know where you were.
You are a friend of the family, aren't you?
- I saw the tickertape at the club.
I gather it has been some god-awful shooting party.
Tell me. Czechoslovakia, right?
- Jim Prideaux's been shot.
Look, the Czechs haven't got his real name yet.
They're using his work name, Ellis.
- Jim?
Shot dead?
- Well, we're not sure. That was the first flash.
Since then, the word used is simply "shot."
What the Czechs are saying, that Prideaux-
Ellis, traveling on false papers
and assisted by Czech counterrevolutionaries,
tried to kidnap a Czech general, unnamed,
in a forest near Brno
and smuggle him over the Austrian border.
They say that further arrests are imminent.
- Goon
- Well, according to our military,
there are heavy Czech tank movements
along the Austrian border.
Lacon's been on and so has the minister.
They want to know, 'What the hell?" and 'Why?"
Now, I have put out emergency calls
to Smiley, Alleline, Bland.
I'm glad to see you.
I'm sorry, Bill.
- All right, Sam.
Now, first thing we do,
you call this number.
It's Toby Esterhase's.
[paper tearing]
Tell him you're speaking for me.
And he's to pick up the two Czech agents
we've had our eyes on at the London School of Economics
and lock them up now.
Straight away, Sam.
Jim's worth a lot more than those two.
But it's a start.
I'd have a word with the chief hood at the Czech embassy.
If they hurt a hair on Jim Prideaux's head,
I'll strip the entire Czech network
in this country bare.
And you can pass that on to his master.
I'll make him the laughingstock of the profession.
[suspenseful instrumental music]
II
- I'm bound to say Haydon was a treat to watch.
[sniffs]
I used to think of him
as a pretty erratic sort of devil.
Not that night, believe me.
He virtually dictated a press statement
for the foreign office to put out.
And there it was the following morning
in the Sunday papers:
"Proud radio sensation revelations
dismissed with dignified scorn."
I found it good light reading over breakfast at The Savoy.
- And then you went to the south of France?
- Two lovely months.
- Did anyone question you again?
- Percy Alleline.
Well, he was acting chief by then.
You were out on your ear, and Control was in hospital.
Percy wants to know how I'd come to be
doing duty officer on the fateful night.
That chap, Masterman, was down for it.
Well, I told him what I had put to Masterman,
that I know that a kip
and a quiet weekend in the Circus
would save me a bit of spending money for the south of France.
Percy said I was a liar.
- And that's why they sacked you?
For fibbing?
- Alcoholism.
There were five empty beer cans
in the duty officer's waste paper basket.
Well, there's a standing order against booze on the premises.
So what was your offence, George?
- Oh, I couldn't convince them that I wasn't involved.
- Oh, well, if you want anyone's throat cut,
give me a buzz.
- Sam, listen.
It was too late for Haydon's club
to be still running tickertape, wasn't it?
He was making love to Ann that night.
You made a guess of that, and you were right.
You telephoned her,
she told you he wasn't there,
and then as soon as you'd rang off,
she pushed him out of bed,
and Bill turned up an hour later
knowing about Czecho.
Not that you didn't tell Ann...
about Czechs.
[phone rings]
I'll find my own way down.
[phone rings]
- Mind how you go, George.
[door closes, phone rings]
[Song of Simeon]
- ♪ Lord ♪
♪ Now lettest thou ♪
♪ Thy servant ♪
♪ Depart in peace ♪
II
♪ According to Thy word ♪
II
♪ For mine eyes ♪
♪ Have seen Thy salvation ♪
II
♪ Which Thou hast prepared ♪
♪ Before the face ♪
♪ Of all people ♪
II
♪ To be a light ♪
♪ To lighten ♪
♪ The Gentiles ♪
♪ And to be the glory ♪
♪ Of Thy people ♪
♪ Israel ♪
II
♪ Glory be to the Father ♪
♪ And to the Son ♪
♪ And to the Holy Ghost ♪
♪ As it was in the beginning ♪
♪ ls now and ever shall be ♪
♪ World without end ♪
♪ Amen ♪
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