human
We have the road to Rupert, now,
gpt
So we have, lad.
human
Then why look back at Knaresborough? You’re in a dream, Michael.
gpt
The prettiest eyes in England set me dreaming. I’ve good excuse.
human
There is Rupert waiting for us,
gpt
Ah, true, grave brother. Let’s get to Oxford, and the Duchess of Richmond will cure me of this folly, maybe. There, lad, not so fiery! It’s no crime that a duchess should have pleasant eyes. Even princes must warm themselves at the hearth just now and then.
human
What route to take?
gpt
We’ll go by the sun so far as the winding roads will let us. Oxford lies south-west. Chance and the sun, between them, shall decide; but we had best keep free of towns and garrisons.
human
Undoubtedly, growled Christopher.
gpt
There would be the finest eyes in England glancing at you through the lattices.