human
One of us is bidden to the court of our most munificent patroness to educate her only son.
gpt
He is a little devil!
human
He talks and whistles in church,
gpt
He reviles the saints and the souls of the departed.
human
He torments animals.
gpt
He is the accursed child of a mad mother.
human
She is the destruction of all men, continued the Abbot.
gpt
She sins against all the commandments.
human
She tramples under foot all the sacraments.
gpt
She is a raging fury and a sacrilegious witch.
human
She sent her husband to his grave with a deadly drink.
gpt
Still she is our gracious patroness, and her son also will one day be our patron. We must drink the bitter cup to its dregs. Let us choose.
human
I have the fever in my bones,
gpt
I have trouble with my liver,
human
It is my vocation to heal the sick.
gpt
And I am not acquainted with the Scythian speech, neither the Hungarian nor the Slavic.
human
I have taken a vow never to speak to a woman.
gpt
Then let us send Peter,
human
He is too young,
gpt
But he is stern of character,
human
He will meet with very great temptations,
gpt
The greater will be his triumph,
human
But he is still only a brother,
gpt
We can make him a father,
human
That cannot be! that cannot be! our rules are against it.
gpt
Then let some one else go,
human
Then let Peter be made father, and let father Peter go.
gpt
In rags is a student at his best.