human
Well, Master Warner, resumed Hastings,
gpt
Ah, I comprehend. The goldmaker must not speak of his craft before the goldsmith. Good Alwyn, thou mayest retire. All arts have their mysteries.
human
In sooth, he said,
gpt
I have overtarried, good my lord. The Lady Bonville will chide me; for she is of no patient temper.
human
Bridle thy tongue, artisan, and begone!
gpt
I stung him there, muttered Alwyn, as he withdrew.
human
Oh, fool that I was to--nay, I thought it never, I did but dream it. What wonder we traders hate these silken lords! They reap, we sow; they trifle, we toil; they steal with soft words into the hearts which--Oh, Marmaduke, thou art right-right!--Stout men sit not down to weep beneath the willow. But she--the poor maiden--she looked so haughty and so happy. This is early May; will she wear that look when the autumn leaves are strewn?