human
Have we won, friend?
gpt
Aye, said Murray, Scottish pity warring with regard for truth.
human
We’ve won, my laddie.
gpt
Then unfasten this bracelet from my wrist. Oh, quick, you fools—the time’s short! Take it to Miss Bingham, out at Knaresborough yonder, and tell her I died as well as might be. Tell her Marston Moor is won for the King.
human
Dear God, said Murray,