human
Body of a dog, said one, a big, brawny fellow, whose magnificent uniform shone resplendent under the rays of the now fully risen moon, as they flashed down from the snow upon the roofs,
gpt
La! la! said another, equally big and brawny,
human
Long live our Regent, He is so débonnaire.
gpt
Ha! What have we here? Ten thousand thunders! Is it a battlefield? Behold Look at this Dead men around! The house-wall splashed with blood! How it gleams, sticky and shiny, in the moon's rays! Poor beasts!
human
Beasts in truth! exclaimed a third.
gpt
Archers, exempts! _Fichtre!_ who cares for them. Dirty police, watchmen essaying the duties of soldiers--of gentlemen, of ourselves. Bah! and he kicked a dead archer lying in the road with such force that the thud of his heavy-spurred riding-boots sounded hideously against the corpse's ribs.
human
Let them lie there till the dogs find them.
gpt
Ay! ay! exclaimed the first of the speakers.
human
Let them lie. But this other, here; this is no exempt nor archer--instead, a gentleman. Look to his clothes and lace, and his hands. White as De Noailles's own. Also, he is not dead yet.