human
You shall have the key, Mr. Barnaby, said Michael.
gpt
Release him when and how you like. For ourselves, we ride to Oxford.
human
Nay, you walk, said Barnaby, with great solemnity.
gpt
Oh, I know your breed! You’re all for going to the tavern for your horses. It will not do, gentles. The town is thick with Roundheads.
human
How can we walk twenty miles, with our errand a day or two old already?
gpt
Beggars must foot it, when need asks. Do you want to sing ’Christmas Pie’ again all down Banbury street, and have your errand spoiled? Listen, sirs. This town does not suit my health just now; it does not suit yours. Permit me to guide you out of it along a byway that I know.