human
It is in vain that we struggle with our doom, said he, calmly;
gpt
You, you--
human
But with a lukewarm and selfish love, and one that cannot last. Thou wilt be a flower in my path; I inhale thy sweetness and pass on, caring not what wind shall sup thee, or what step shall tread thee to the dust. Which is the love thou wouldst prefer?
gpt
But do you, can you love me,--you, you, Zicci,--even for an hour? Say it again.
human
Yes, Isabel; I am not dead to beauty, and yours is that rarely given to the daughters of men. Yes, Isabel, I could love thee