human
Come to my bosom, my Augustine! Lucille, where art thou?
gpt
Thy father is an ogre. Oh, no, no; no more! Thou shalt have thy lieutenant, the choice of thine own heart, my child, and thy father's blessing a thousand thousand times. Nothing shall come between us again, Augustine. Thy Danton is thine, and thine only--thine and Lucille's.
human
Thou wilt not mind what they will say at the 'Vieux Corsaire,'
gpt
Vieux diable! Vieux sac-à-papier. No more cares thy Danton what they say. Que mon nom soit flétri--là bas--que mes chéries soient heureuses!
human
That's my good Danton,
gpt
Then Madame will wear to-day the black passementerie instead of the costume Ninth Thermidor,
human
Yes, Julie, we will witness the procession this morning, clothed in our right clothes--and in our right mind, eh, my Danton.
gpt
Mon chou!