human
Well, Waddilove, he said, throwing himself on the long-settle, and holding his hands to the fire-blaze,
gpt
Maister Michael in this mood of weariness.
human
Ye used to be allus so light-hearted, come shine or storm,
gpt
That is the worst of a high reputation. One falls to earth, old sinner. I’ve no jest, no hope, nothing but this amazing thirst. If there’s wine left in the Castle, bring it.
human
Oh, good! said Michael, with something of his old laugh.
gpt
Fire and wine—I need them. He kicked the logs into a blaze.
human
It seems odd to need warmth, with midsummer scarce past, but I’ve brought a great coldness from the Moor. Gentlemen of the King’s—men who should be living for him—are lying where they fell. There was no room for a horse’s hoofs; one had to trample the loyal dead. Wine, Ben! Pour me a brimmer for forgetfulness.
gpt
One can buy peace so easily—at a price, he said.
human
Fill again for me, Daniel, and we’ll drink confusion to Noll Cromwell.