human
If you would serve me, friend, he said in a hollow voice,
gpt
Not so, said Penfold strongly.
human
The boy was his father's son. Would you have seen him grow a weakling? Sons bred beside an enemy's camp must fight or be found unworthy of their name.
gpt
The sword has fallen, said the knight.
human
Last night I had a dream. A shiver coursed through him.
gpt
Take up the sword with which I killed my son and bury it in the water. I have sworn to lay hand on it no more.
human
I have lost a friend, muttered the yeoman.
gpt
One known to me by hearth and in field, at work and pleasure. I have buried him this day in a strange land. I grow old, and my friends drop from me as acorns shed from the oak, but while my eye is steady and my arm strong I shall fight for England's empire over sea. Old age, when dotage grows, is time sufficient to mourn for friends. While strength remains a man must work. Country, then friends, myself the last. 'Tis the motto of the Penfolds of County Berks.
human
You have no flesh and blood to mourn.
gpt
What is relationship if it be not friendship? Know you not that two brothers may fall in hatred from one another, and yet either have a friend dear to his heart as his own soul? Our troubles we carry to our pastor. Our highest love to the woman who stays for us on our way through life. Such friendship binds more firmly than any tie of blood.
human
Speak not to me, cried the bitter man.
gpt
My ambition has fallen to the ground.
human
Stand by yonder mound, cried Penfold.
gpt
The boy shall speak.
human
Vengeance shall not bring him back.
gpt
Had you fallen he would have gone upon his way stronger than before.
human
He was young and I grow old.
gpt
Yet I am older far. And the yeoman shook himself like an old lion.
human
There is work for me.
gpt
Poison stirs in our English blood, driving us from home, leading us across seas to fight unthanked for our country's cause. What gadfly of madness stings us on thus to build the foundations of Empire? What honour shall be rendered to pioneers? Who shall seek our graves and pause to say, 'Here lies one who fought to plant the red-cross flag in the face of its enemies'? Fools, fools, fools! We forsake home and kindred in pursuit of a dream, rise up for our unrewarded effort, and fail. So we are gone and our deeds lie buried in our graves.
human
One leaf makes not a summer, replied Penfold.
gpt
The one cannot be discerned by the eye, and yet that one does its share in making the tree perfect. We also have our part to play. Our lives are obscure. Our deeds shall live, if not our names. Let others reap the harvest.
human
There is a cave a league away, he said.
gpt
There sorrow and myself shall dwell. Seek not to find me.
human
Something has broken there,