human
Noble baron, cries the black horseman,
gpt
By my troth, here let us stay, and refresh ourselves. There is water for our thirst, and good grazing for our steeds.
human
Zounds, replies the hunter,
gpt
You say well.
human
Have pity, gracious lord; spare the labour of an old man; do not let your steeds devour and trample down the field which nourishes the solitary, the traveller, and the poor.
gpt
To the devil with hermits and nuns, replies the proud hunter.
human
Away with you, lazy rascal; or your carcass shall go to feed my hounds.
gpt
Father, which art in Heaven, forgive this young man; Thy providence which feeds the birds of the air and clothes the flower of the field will suffice for me also.
human
Gaston, interposes the white rider,
gpt
Your words are harsh. Who knows but that you owe your very life to this old man? that, perchance without his prayers and fastings, your soul, already weighed many times in the heavenly scales, might well have been found too light.