human
After all, sir, suggested Boniface,
gpt
That has a pleasant sound for us, with all between this and York to travel.
human
Take two o’ my beasts, gentles, if there’s haste. You’re cropped enough, and in quiet clothes enough, to ride good horses—always granting their colour doesn’t happen to be white. As for these two o’ mine, one is a roan, t’other a darkish bay.
gpt
And you, when you unlock the door on these rogues?
human
I shall fare as I shall fare, and not grumble either way. For your part, get away on the King’s business, and God guide him safe, say I.
gpt
But at least there’s our reckoning to pay.
human
Not a stiver. Nay, I’ll not hear of it. Am I so poor a King’s man that I grudge a cut from the joint and a bottle to the Riding Metcalfs?
gpt
Our thanks, host. As for the three in yonder, they’ll not trouble you. I told them the door would be unlocked in an hour’s time, explained that my folk were in the neighbourhood, and warned them to save their skins as best they could. You’ll laugh till there are no more tears to shed when you see two of them in their bravery. Till I die that picture will return—their two sad faces set on top of our gay finery.