human
I have philosophy enough to satisfy me. I care not to be what Arcesilas[1373] was, and woe-begone Solons, with head awry[1374] and eyes fastened on the ground, while they mumble suppressed mutterings, or idiotic silence, or balance words on their lip pouting out, pondering over the dreams of some palsied dotard, 'that nothing can be generated from nothing; nothing can return to nothing.'--Is it this over which you grow pale? Is it this for which one should go without his dinner?
gpt
Examine me! My breast palpitates unusually; and my breath heaves oppressedly from my fevered jaws: examine me, pray! He that speaks thus to his physician, being ordered to keep quiet, when the third night has seen his veins flow with steady pulse, begs from some wealthier mansion some mellow Surrentine,[1376] in a flagon of moderate capacity, as he is about to bathe.
human
Ho! my good fellow, you look pale!
gpt
It is nothing!
human
But have an eye to it, whatever it is! Your sallow skin is insensibly rising.
gpt
Well, you look pale too! worse than I! Don't play the guardian to me! I buried him long ago--you remain.
human
Go on! I will hold my peace!