human
This is the four and twentieth day, 125 The day prefixt upon: Bring forth my bride, or London burns, I swear by Alcaron.
gpt
Lo! we have brought our daughter dear, Whom we are forc'd to forsake.
human
My liege, it must not be so; Such beauty as the fair princèss 135 Is not for a tyrant's mow.
gpt
Fool, fanatick, baboon! How dare you stop my valour's prize? I'll kill thee with a frown.
human
And for those two Goliahs there, 145 That stand on either side, Here are two little Davids by, That soon can tame their pride.