human
It is a tremendous show, said Ned to Father Brian,
gpt
Speak Latin, said the missionary.
human
What is that thou wert saying? I don't know one word of Saxon. It's a tongue they'll all get rid of when they're conquered.
gpt
It's a kind of witchcraft, most likely, was the good man's pious conclusion.
human
All of them ought to be burned, and they will be. It's not a country like England that can be civilised in that way. It hath been on my mind, though, that if the Northmen and Duke William kill off the Saxons, we could send over enough of the right kind of men from Ireland to make a fine land of it.
gpt
You could do that, replied Ned.
human
Loads and loads of Irish have come over to our country, and after they get there they all turn into Americans.
gpt
That's witchcraft, again grumbled Father Brian.
human
What's the good of them if they all become heathen themselves?
gpt
Mail and helmet, O Ned, the son of Webb! The command of the king is that every man shall land in full armour. There will be a battle right away.
human
Hurrah!
gpt
I'll be there myself! I'll not have any heathen Saxon cut my throat for nothing, either. I'll have good mail under my cassock, and I can swing an ax with any of them. Get thyself ready, my boy. Thou art young for it, but thou canst show them what thou art made of.