prompt:
Chapter: ACT I. SCENE 2.
Troy. A street

Enter CRESSIDA and her man ALEXANDER

  CRESSIDA. Who were those went by?
  ALEXANDER. Queen Hecuba and Helen.
  CRESSIDA. And whither go they?
  ALEXANDER. Up to the eastern tower,
    Whose height commands as subject all the vale,
    To see the battle. Hector, whose patience
    Is as a virtue fix'd, to-day was mov'd.
    He chid Andromache, and struck his armourer;
    And, like as there were husbandry in war,
    Before the sun rose he was harness'd light,
    And to the field goes he; where every flower
    Did as a prophet weep what it foresaw
    In Hector's wrath.
  CRESSIDA. What was his cause of anger?
  ALEXANDER. The noise goes, this: there is among the Greeks
    A lord of Troyan blood, nephew to Hector;
    They call him Ajax.
  CRESSIDA. Good; and what of him?
  ALEXANDER. They say he is a very man per se,
    And stands alone.
  CRESSIDA. So do all men, unless they are drunk, sick, or have no
    legs.
  ALEXANDER. This man, lady, hath robb'd many beasts of their
    particular additions: he is as valiant as a lion, churlish as the
    bear, slow as the elephant-a man into whom nature hath so crowded
    humours that his valour is crush'd into folly, his folly sauced
    with discretion. There is no man hath a virtue that he hath not a
    glimpse of, nor any man an attaint but he carries some stain of
    it; he is melancholy without cause and merry against the hair; he
    hath the joints of every thing; but everything so out of joint
    that he is a gouty Briareus, many hands and no use, or purblind
    Argus, all eyes and no sight.
  CRESSIDA. But how should this man, that makes me smile, make Hector
      angry?
  ALEXANDER. They say he yesterday cop'd Hector in the battle and
    struck him down, the disdain and shame whereof hath ever since
    kept Hector fasting and waking.

                          Enter PANDARUS

  CRESSIDA. Who comes here?
  ALEXANDER. Madam, your uncle Pandarus.
  CRESSIDA. Hector's a gallant man.
  ALEXANDER. As may be in the world, lady.
  PANDARUS. What's that? What's that?
  CRESSIDA. Good morrow, uncle Pandarus.
  PANDARUS. Good morrow, cousin Cressid. What do you talk of?- Good
    morrow, Alexander.-How do you, cousin? When were you at Ilium?
  CRESSIDA. This morning, uncle.
  PANDARUS. What were you talking of when I came? Was Hector arm'd
    and gone ere you came to Ilium? Helen was not up, was she?
  CRESSIDA. Hector was gone; but Helen was not up.
  PANDARUS. E'en so. Hector was stirring early.
  CRESSIDA. That were we talking of, and of his anger.
  PANDARUS. Was he angry?
  CRESSIDA. So he says here.
  PANDARUS. True, he was so; I know the cause too; he'll lay about
    him today, I can tell them that. And there's Troilus will not
    come far behind him; let them take heed of Troilus, I can tell
    them that too.
  CRESSIDA. What, is he angry too?
  PANDARUS. Who, Troilus? Troilus is the better man of the two.
  CRESSIDA. O Jupiter! there's no comparison.
  PANDARUS. What, not between Troilus and Hector? Do you know a man
    if you see him?
  CRESSIDA. Ay, if I ever saw him before and knew him.
  PANDARUS. Well, I say Troilus is Troilus.
  CRESSIDA. Then you say as I say, for I am sure he is not Hector.
  PANDARUS. No, nor Hector is not Troilus in some degrees.
  CRESSIDA. 'Tis just to each of them: he is himself.
  PANDARUS. Himself! Alas, poor Troilus! I would he were!
  CRESSIDA. So he is.
  PANDARUS. Condition I had gone barefoot to India.
  CRESSIDA. He is not Hector.
  PANDARUS. Himself! no, he's not himself. Would 'a were himself!
    Well, the gods are above; time must friend or end. Well, Troilus,
    well! I would my heart were in her body! No, Hector is not a
    better man than Troilus.
  CRESSIDA. Excuse me.
  PANDARUS. He is elder.
  CRESSIDA. Pardon me, pardon me.
  PANDARUS. Th' other's not come to't; you shall tell me another tale
    when th' other's come to't. Hector shall not have his wit this
    year.
  CRESSIDA. He shall not need it if he have his own.
  PANDARUS. Nor his qualities.
  CRESSIDA. No matter.
  PANDARUS. Nor his beauty.
  CRESSIDA. 'Twould not become him: his own's better.
  PANDARUS. YOU have no judgment, niece. Helen herself swore th'
    other day that Troilus, for a brown favour, for so 'tis, I must
    confess- not brown neither-
  CRESSIDA. No, but brown.
  PANDARUS. Faith, to say truth, brown and not brown.
  CRESSIDA. To say the truth, true and not true.
  PANDARUS. She prais'd his complexion above Paris.
  CRESSIDA. Why, Paris hath colour enough.
  PANDARUS. So he has.
  CRESSIDA. Then Troilus should have too much. If she prais'd him
    above, his complexion is higher than his; he having colour
    enough, and the other higher, is too flaming praise for a good
    complexion. I had as lief Helen's golden tongue had commended
    Troilus for a copper nose.
  PANDARUS. I swear to you I think Helen loves him better than Paris.
  CRESSIDA. Then she's a merry Greek indeed.
  PANDARUS. Nay, I am sure she does. She came to him th' other day
    into the compass'd window-and you know he has not past three or
    four hairs on his chin-
  CRESSIDA. Indeed a tapster's arithmetic may soon bring his
    particulars therein to a total.
  PANDARUS. Why, he is very young, and yet will he within three pound
    lift as much as his brother Hector.
  CRESSIDA. Is he so young a man and so old a lifter?
  PANDARUS. But to prove to you that Helen loves him: she came and
    puts me her white hand to his cloven chin-
  CRESSIDA. Juno have mercy! How came it cloven?
  PANDARUS. Why, you know, 'tis dimpled. I think his smiling becomes
    him better than any man in all Phrygia.
  CRESSIDA. O, he smiles valiantly!
  PANDARUS. Does he not?
  CRESSIDA. O yes, an 'twere a cloud in autumn!
  PANDARUS. Why, go to, then! But to prove to you that Helen loves
    Troilus-
  CRESSIDA. Troilus will stand to the proof, if you'll prove it so.
  PANDARUS. Troilus! Why, he esteems her no more than I esteem an
    addle egg.
  CRESSIDA. If you love an addle egg as well as you love an idle
    head, you would eat chickens i' th' shell.
  PANDARUS. I cannot choose but laugh to think how she tickled his
    chin. Indeed, she has a marvell's white hand, I must needs
    confess.
  CRESSIDA. Without the rack.
  PANDARUS. And she takes upon her to spy a white hair on his chin.
  CRESSIDA. Alas, poor chin! Many a wart is richer.
  PANDARUS. But there was such laughing! Queen Hecuba laugh'd that
    her eyes ran o'er.
  CRESSIDA. With millstones.
  PANDARUS. And Cassandra laugh'd.
  CRESSIDA. But there was a more temperate fire under the pot of her
    eyes. Did her eyes run o'er too?
  PANDARUS. And Hector laugh'd.
  CRESSIDA. At what was all this laughing?
  PANDARUS. Marry, at the white hair that Helen spied on Troilus'
    chin.
  CRESSIDA. An't had been a green hair I should have laugh'd too.
  PANDARUS. They laugh'd not so much at the hair as at his pretty
    answer.
  CRESSIDA. What was his answer?
  PANDARUS. Quoth she 'Here's but two and fifty hairs on your chin,
    and one of them is white.'
  CRESSIDA. This is her question.
  PANDARUS. That's true; make no question of that. 'Two and fifty
    hairs,' quoth he 'and one white. That white hair is my father,
    and all the rest are his sons.' 'Jupiter!' quoth she 'which of
    these hairs is Paris my husband?' 'The forked one,' quoth he,
    'pluck't out and give it him.' But there was such laughing! and
    Helen so blush'd, and Paris so chaf'd; and all the rest so
    laugh'd that it pass'd.
  CRESSIDA. So let it now; for it has been a great while going by.
  PANDARUS. Well, cousin, I told you a thing yesterday; think on't.
  CRESSIDA. So I do.
  PANDARUS. I'll be sworn 'tis true; he will weep you, and 'twere a
    man born in April.
  CRESSIDA. And I'll spring up in his tears, an 'twere a nettle
    against May.                                    [Sound a retreat]
  PANDARUS. Hark! they are coming from the field. Shall we stand up
    here and see them as they pass toward Ilium? Good niece, do,
    sweet niece Cressida.
  CRESSIDA. At your pleasure.
  PANDARUS. Here, here, here's an excellent place; here we may see
    most bravely. I'll tell you them all by their names as they pass
    by; but mark Troilus above the rest.

                       AENEAS passes

  CRESSIDA. Speak not so loud.
  PANDARUS. That's Aeneas. Is not that a brave man? He's one of the
    flowers of Troy, I can tell you. But mark Troilus; you shall see
    anon.

                       ANTENOR passes

  CRESSIDA. Who's that?
  PANDARUS. That's Antenor. He has a shrewd wit, I can tell you; and
    he's a man good enough; he's one o' th' soundest judgments in
    Troy, whosoever, and a proper man of person. When comes Troilus?
    I'll show you Troilus anon. If he see me, you shall see him nod
    at me.
  CRESSIDA. Will he give you the nod?
  PANDARUS. You shall see.
  CRESSIDA. If he do, the rich shall have more.

                     HECTOR passes

  PANDARUS. That's Hector, that, that, look you, that; there's a
    fellow! Go thy way, Hector! There's a brave man, niece. O brave
    Hector! Look how he looks. There's a countenance! Is't not a
    brave man?
  CRESSIDA. O, a brave man!
  PANDARUS. Is 'a not? It does a man's heart good. Look you what
    hacks are on his helmet! Look you yonder, do you see? Look you
    there. There's no jesting; there's laying on; take't off who
    will, as they say. There be hacks.
  CRESSIDA. Be those with swords?
  PANDARUS. Swords! anything, he cares not; an the devil come to him,
    it's all one. By God's lid, it does one's heart good. Yonder
    comes Paris, yonder comes Paris.

                       PARIS passes

    Look ye yonder, niece; is't not a gallant man too, is't not? Why,
    this is brave now. Who said he came hurt home to-day? He's not
    hurt. Why, this will do Helen's heart good now, ha! Would I could
    see Troilus now! You shall see Troilus anon.

                      HELENUS passes

  CRESSIDA. Who's that?
  PANDARUS. That's Helenus. I marvel where Troilus is. That's
    Helenus. I think he went not forth to-day. That's Helenus.
  CRESSIDA. Can Helenus fight, uncle?
  PANDARUS. Helenus! no. Yes, he'll fight indifferent well. I marvel
    where Troilus is. Hark! do you not hear the people cry 'Troilus'?
    Helenus is a priest.
  CRESSIDA. What sneaking fellow comes yonder?

                    TROILUS passes

  PANDARUS. Where? yonder? That's Deiphobus. 'Tis Troilus. There's a
    man, niece. Hem! Brave Troilus, the prince of chivalry!
  CRESSIDA. Peace, for shame, peace!
  PANDARUS. Mark him; note him. O brave Troilus! Look well upon him,
    niece; look you how his sword is bloodied, and his helm more
    hack'd than Hector's; and how he looks, and how he goes! O
    admirable youth! he never saw three and twenty. Go thy way,
    Troilus, go thy way. Had I a sister were a grace or a daughter a
    goddess, he should take his choice. O admirable man! Paris? Paris
    is dirt to him; and, I warrant, Helen, to change, would give an
    eye to boot.
  CRESSIDA. Here comes more.

                 Common soldiers pass

  PANDARUS. Asses, fools, dolts! chaff and bran, chaff and bran!
    porridge after meat! I could live and die in the eyes of Troilus.
    Ne'er look, ne'er look; the eagles are gone. Crows and daws,
    crows and daws! I had rather be such a man as Troilus than
    Agamemnon and all Greece.
  CRESSIDA. There is amongst the Greeks Achilles, a better man than
    Troilus.
  PANDARUS. Achilles? A drayman, a porter, a very camel!
  CRESSIDA. Well, well.
  PANDARUS. Well, well! Why, have you any discretion? Have you any
    eyes? Do you know what a man is? Is not birth, beauty, good
    shape, discourse, manhood, learning, gentleness, virtue, youth,
    liberality, and such like, the spice and salt that season a man?
  CRESSIDA. Ay, a minc'd man; and then to be bak'd with no date in
    the pie, for then the man's date is out.
  PANDARUS. You are such a woman! A man knows not at what ward you
    lie.
  CRESSIDA. Upon my back, to defend my belly; upon my wit, to defend
    my wiles; upon my secrecy, to defend mine honesty; my mask, to
    defend my beauty; and you, to defend all these; and at all these
    wards I lie at, at a thousand watches.
  PANDARUS. Say one of your watches.
  CRESSIDA. Nay, I'll watch you for that; and that's one of the
    chiefest of them too. If I cannot ward what I would not have hit,
    I can watch you for telling how I took the blow; unless it swell
    past hiding, and then it's past watching
 PANDARUS. You are such another!

                   Enter TROILUS' BOY

  BOY. Sir, my lord would instantly speak with you.
  PANDARUS. Where?
  BOY. At your own house; there he unarms him.
  PANDARUS. Good boy, tell him I come.                    Exit Boy
    I doubt he be hurt. Fare ye well, good niece.
  CRESSIDA. Adieu, uncle.
  PANDARUS. I will be with you, niece, by and by.
  CRESSIDA. To bring, uncle.
  PANDARUS. Ay, a token from Troilus.
  CRESSIDA. By the same token, you are a bawd.
                                                        Exit
PANDARUS
    Words, vows, gifts, tears, and love's full sacrifice,
    He offers in another's enterprise;
    But more in Troilus thousand-fold I see
    Than in the glass of Pandar's praise may be,
    Yet hold I off. Women are angels, wooing:
    Things won are done; joy's soul lies in the doing.
    That she belov'd knows nought that knows not this:
    Men prize the thing ungain'd more than it is.
    That she was never yet that ever knew
    Love got so sweet as when desire did sue;
    Therefore this maxim out of love I teach:
    Achievement is command; ungain'd, beseech.
    Then though my heart's content firm love doth bear,
    Nothing of that shall from mine eyes appear.
Exit

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: On a street in Troy, the luscious Cressida hangs out with her servant Alexander, who entertains our girl with some juicy gossip about some key players in the Trojan war. Apparently, on his way to the battlefield today, Hector flipped out and yelled at his wife and then slapped around the guy who helps him arm for battle. In case you didn't know, that's not how noble heroes are supposed to act. Go to "Themes: Principles" and we'll tell you why. It turns out that Hector's all mad because of his nephew, Ajax, who's a commander in the Greek army. Apparently, Ajax and Hector went toe-to-toe in battle and Ajax knocked his uncle on his butt in front of everyone. Next, Alexander rags on Ajax, who is as "valiant as the lion," but, uh, not very bright. Plus, he's emotionally unstable and has some serious mood swings. When Cressida's uncle Pandarus shows up, the two begin to tease each other right away. Pandarus is there to talk up Troilus, but witty Cressida likes to torture her uncle. She keeps insisting that there are tons of other dreamy boys out there that are way better. This goes on for a while, until Pandarus decides to switch tactics and make Cressida jealous. He claims that Helen's been flirting it up with Troilus lately and seems to like him better than she likes Paris. Cressida shoots back, "Then she's a merry Greek indeed." But Pandarus is on a roll. He tells his niece that just the other day Helen went up to Troilus, tickled his "dimpled" chin, and teased him about his scruffy facial hair. Cressida acts like she's totally not jealous. She says she's seen warts that had more hair on them than Troilus's pathetic goatee. But there's more--like a lot of giggling and blushing between Troilus and Helen. So much that Paris got pretty jealous. Now that he's got her all worked up, Pandarus is like, hey, remember that thing I mentioned yesterday? Before Cressida can respond, Aeneas and a bunch of Trojan leaders parade across the stage on their way back from the battlefield. Pandarus points them all out to Cressida and tells her how brave and valiant they are. Cressida rolls her eyes and makes some snarky comments, but that doesn't stop her from checking out all the guys that walk by and judging whether or not they're good boyfriend material. When Troilus crosses the stage, Pandarus lays it on pretty thick: "'Tis Troilus! there's a man niece! Hem! Brave Troilus, the prince of chivalry!" Dude, Pandarus, stop embarrassing your niece already. Pandarus declares that if he had a sister or a daughter, he'd let Troilus take his pick and have whichever one he wanted. Nah, says Cressida. Greek soldier Achilles is a "better man than Troilus." Pandarus is all, "Are you crazy!? Even I could get lost in Troilus's eyes!" Troilus's boy servant shows up and says Troilus wants to talk to Pandarus at his house. As Pandarus leaves, he promises to visit his niece and bring her a "token" from Troilus. Cressida calls her uncle a "bawd" and says goodbye. Brain Snack: Now seems like a good time to tell you that Pandarus's name is associated with the term "pander," which means to act as a go-between in a sexual hook-up. In fact, the name "Pandarus" was pretty much synonymous with the word "pimp" by the time Shakespeare wrote this play. But, you probably already guessed that from the way Pandarus has been acting. Alone on stage, Cressida delivers a soliloquy about how she really does think Troilus is dreamy even though she doesn't show it. Cressida tells us that she's going to play hard to get with Troilus because she's afraid he'll lose interest in her once he's slept with her. Wow, it's good to know that some things never change. We guess.


prompt:
Chapter: ACT I. SCENE 3.
The Grecian camp. Before AGAMEMNON'S tent

Sennet. Enter AGAMEMNON, NESTOR, ULYSSES, DIOMEDES, MENELAUS, and
others

  AGAMEMNON. Princes,
    What grief hath set these jaundies o'er your cheeks?
    The ample proposition that hope makes
    In all designs begun on earth below
    Fails in the promis'd largeness; checks and disasters
    Grow in the veins of actions highest rear'd,
    As knots, by the conflux of meeting sap,
    Infects the sound pine, and diverts his grain
    Tortive and errant from his course of growth.
    Nor, princes, is it matter new to us
    That we come short of our suppose so far
    That after seven years' siege yet Troy walls stand;
    Sith every action that hath gone before,
    Whereof we have record, trial did draw
    Bias and thwart, not answering the aim,
    And that unbodied figure of the thought
    That gave't surmised shape. Why then, you princes,
    Do you with cheeks abash'd behold our works
    And call them shames, which are, indeed, nought else
    But the protractive trials of great Jove
    To find persistive constancy in men;
    The fineness of which metal is not found
    In fortune's love? For then the bold and coward,
    The wise and fool, the artist and unread,
    The hard and soft, seem all affin'd and kin.
    But in the wind and tempest of her frown
    Distinction, with a broad and powerful fan,
    Puffing at all, winnows the light away;
    And what hath mass or matter by itself
    Lies rich in virtue and unmingled.
  NESTOR. With due observance of thy godlike seat,
    Great Agamemnon, Nestor shall apply
    Thy latest words. In the reproof of chance
    Lies the true proof of men. The sea being smooth,
    How many shallow bauble boats dare sail
    Upon her patient breast, making their way
    With those of nobler bulk!
    But let the ruffian Boreas once enrage
    The gentle Thetis, and anon behold
    The strong-ribb'd bark through liquid mountains cut,
    Bounding between the two moist elements
    Like Perseus' horse. Where's then the saucy boat,
    Whose weak untimber'd sides but even now
    Co-rivall'd greatness? Either to harbour fled
    Or made a toast for Neptune. Even so
    Doth valour's show and valour's worth divide
    In storms of fortune; for in her ray and brightness
    The herd hath more annoyance by the breeze
    Than by the tiger; but when the splitting wind
    Makes flexible the knees of knotted oaks,
    And flies fled under shade-why, then the thing of courage
    As rous'd with rage, with rage doth sympathise,
    And with an accent tun'd in self-same key
    Retorts to chiding fortune.
  ULYSSES. Agamemnon,
    Thou great commander, nerve and bone of Greece,
    Heart of our numbers, soul and only spirit
    In whom the tempers and the minds of all
    Should be shut up-hear what Ulysses speaks.
    Besides the applause and approbation
    The which, [To AGAMEMNON] most mighty, for thy place and sway,
    [To NESTOR] And, thou most reverend, for thy stretch'd-out life,
    I give to both your speeches- which were such
    As Agamemnon and the hand of Greece
    Should hold up high in brass; and such again
    As venerable Nestor, hatch'd in silver,
    Should with a bond of air, strong as the axle-tree
    On which heaven rides, knit all the Greekish ears
    To his experienc'd tongue-yet let it please both,
    Thou great, and wise, to hear Ulysses speak.
  AGAMEMNON. Speak, Prince of Ithaca; and be't of less expect
    That matter needless, of importless burden,
    Divide thy lips than we are confident,
    When rank Thersites opes his mastic jaws,
    We shall hear music, wit, and oracle.
  ULYSSES. Troy, yet upon his basis, had been down,
    And the great Hector's sword had lack'd a master,
    But for these instances:
    The specialty of rule hath been neglected;
    And look how many Grecian tents do stand
    Hollow upon this plain, so many hollow factions.
    When that the general is not like the hive,
    To whom the foragers shall all repair,
    What honey is expected? Degree being vizarded,
    Th' unworthiest shows as fairly in the mask.
    The heavens themselves, the planets, and this centre,
    Observe degree, priority, and place,
    Insisture, course, proportion, season, form,
    Office, and custom, in all line of order;
    And therefore is the glorious planet Sol
    In noble eminence enthron'd and spher'd
    Amidst the other, whose med'cinable eye
    Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil,
    And posts, like the commandment of a king,
    Sans check, to good and bad. But when the planets
    In evil mixture to disorder wander,
    What plagues and what portents, what mutiny,
    What raging of the sea, shaking of earth,
    Commotion in the winds! Frights, changes, horrors,
    Divert and crack, rend and deracinate,
    The unity and married calm of states
    Quite from their fixture! O, when degree is shak'd,
    Which is the ladder of all high designs,
    The enterprise is sick! How could communities,
    Degrees in schools, and brotherhoods in cities,
    Peaceful commerce from dividable shores,
    The primogenity and due of birth,
    Prerogative of age, crowns, sceptres, laurels,
    But by degree, stand in authentic place?
    Take but degree away, untune that string,
    And hark what discord follows! Each thing melts
    In mere oppugnancy: the bounded waters
    Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores,
    And make a sop of all this solid globe;
    Strength should be lord of imbecility,
    And the rude son should strike his father dead;
    Force should be right; or, rather, right and wrong-
    Between whose endless jar justice resides-
    Should lose their names, and so should justice too.
    Then everything includes itself in power,
    Power into will, will into appetite;
    And appetite, an universal wolf,
    So doubly seconded with will and power,
    Must make perforce an universal prey,
    And last eat up himself. Great Agamemnon,
    This chaos, when degree is suffocate,
    Follows the choking.
    And this neglection of degree it is
    That by a pace goes backward, with a purpose
    It hath to climb. The general's disdain'd
    By him one step below, he by the next,
    That next by him beneath; so ever step,
    Exampl'd by the first pace that is sick
    Of his superior, grows to an envious fever
    Of pale and bloodless emulation.
    And 'tis this fever that keeps Troy on foot,
    Not her own sinews. To end a tale of length,
    Troy in our weakness stands, not in her strength.
  NESTOR. Most wisely hath Ulysses here discover'd
    The fever whereof all our power is sick.
  AGAMEMNON. The nature of the sickness found, Ulysses,
    What is the remedy?
  ULYSSES. The great Achilles, whom opinion crowns
    The sinew and the forehand of our host,
    Having his ear full of his airy fame,
    Grows dainty of his worth, and in his tent
    Lies mocking our designs; with him Patroclus
    Upon a lazy bed the livelong day
    Breaks scurril jests;
    And with ridiculous and awkward action-
    Which, slanderer, he imitation calls-
    He pageants us. Sometime, great Agamemnon,
    Thy topless deputation he puts on;
    And like a strutting player whose conceit
    Lies in his hamstring, and doth think it rich
    To hear the wooden dialogue and sound
    'Twixt his stretch'd footing and the scaffoldage-
    Such to-be-pitied and o'er-wrested seeming
    He acts thy greatness in; and when he speaks
    'Tis like a chime a-mending; with terms unsquar'd,
    Which, from the tongue of roaring Typhon dropp'd,
    Would seem hyperboles. At this fusty stuff
    The large Achilles, on his press'd bed lolling,
    From his deep chest laughs out a loud applause;
    Cries 'Excellent! 'tis Agamemnon just.
    Now play me Nestor; hem, and stroke thy beard,
    As he being drest to some oration.'
    That's done-as near as the extremest ends
    Of parallels, as like Vulcan and his wife;
    Yet god Achilles still cries 'Excellent!
    'Tis Nestor right. Now play him me, Patroclus,
    Arming to answer in a night alarm.'
    And then, forsooth, the faint defects of age
    Must be the scene of mirth: to cough and spit
    And, with a palsy-fumbling on his gorget,
    Shake in and out the rivet. And at this sport
    Sir Valour dies; cries 'O, enough, Patroclus;
    Or give me ribs of steel! I shall split all
    In pleasure of my spleen.' And in this fashion
    All our abilities, gifts, natures, shapes,
    Severals and generals of grace exact,
    Achievements, plots, orders, preventions,
    Excitements to the field or speech for truce,
    Success or loss, what is or is not, serves
    As stuff for these two to make paradoxes.
  NESTOR. And in the imitation of these twain-
    Who, as Ulysses says, opinion crowns
    With an imperial voice-many are infect.
    Ajax is grown self-will'd and bears his head
    In such a rein, in full as proud a place
    As broad Achilles; keeps his tent like him;
    Makes factious feasts; rails on our state of war
    Bold as an oracle, and sets Thersites,
    A slave whose gall coins slanders like a mint,
    To match us in comparisons with dirt,
    To weaken and discredit our exposure,
    How rank soever rounded in with danger.
  ULYSSES. They tax our policy and call it cowardice,
    Count wisdom as no member of the war,
    Forestall prescience, and esteem no act
    But that of hand. The still and mental parts
    That do contrive how many hands shall strike
    When fitness calls them on, and know, by measure
    Of their observant toil, the enemies' weight-
    Why, this hath not a finger's dignity:
    They call this bed-work, mapp'ry, closet-war;
    So that the ram that batters down the wall,
    For the great swinge and rudeness of his poise,
    They place before his hand that made the engine,
    Or those that with the fineness of their souls
    By reason guide his execution.
  NESTOR. Let this be granted, and Achilles' horse
    Makes many Thetis' sons.
[Tucket]
  AGAMEMNON. What trumpet? Look, Menelaus.
  MENELAUS. From Troy.

                      Enter AENEAS

  AGAMEMNON. What would you fore our tent?
  AENEAS. Is this great Agamemnon's tent, I pray you?
  AGAMEMNON. Even this.
  AENEAS. May one that is a herald and a prince
    Do a fair message to his kingly eyes?
  AGAMEMNON. With surety stronger than Achilles' an
    Fore all the Greekish heads, which with one voice
    Call Agamemnon head and general.
  AENEAS. Fair leave and large security. How may
    A stranger to those most imperial looks
    Know them from eyes of other mortals?
  AGAMEMNON. How?
  AENEAS. Ay;
    I ask, that I might waken reverence,
    And bid the cheek be ready with a blush
    Modest as Morning when she coldly eyes
    The youthful Phoebus.
    Which is that god in office, guiding men?
    Which is the high and mighty Agamemnon?
  AGAMEMNON. This Troyan scorns us, or the men of Troy
    Are ceremonious courtiers.
  AENEAS. Courtiers as free, as debonair, unarm'd,
    As bending angels; that's their fame in peace.
    But when they would seem soldiers, they have galls,
    Good arms, strong joints, true swords; and, Jove's accord,
    Nothing so full of heart. But peace, Aeneas,
    Peace, Troyan; lay thy finger on thy lips.
    The worthiness of praise distains his worth,
    If that the prais'd himself bring the praise forth;
    But what the repining enemy commends,
    That breath fame blows; that praise, sole pure, transcends.
  AGAMEMNON. Sir, you of Troy, call you yourself Aeneas?
  AENEAS. Ay, Greek, that is my name.
  AGAMEMNON. What's your affair, I pray you?
  AENEAS. Sir, pardon; 'tis for Agamemnon's ears.
  AGAMEMNON. He hears nought privately that comes from Troy.
  AENEAS. Nor I from Troy come not to whisper with him;
    I bring a trumpet to awake his ear,
    To set his sense on the attentive bent,
    And then to speak.
  AGAMEMNON. Speak frankly as the wind;
    It is not Agamemnon's sleeping hour.
    That thou shalt know, Troyan, he is awake,
    He tells thee so himself.
  AENEAS. Trumpet, blow loud,
    Send thy brass voice through all these lazy tents;
    And every Greek of mettle, let him know
    What Troy means fairly shall be spoke aloud.
                                               [Sound trumpet]
    We have, great Agamemnon, here in Troy
    A prince called Hector-Priam is his father-
    Who in this dull and long-continued truce
    Is resty grown; he bade me take a trumpet
    And to this purpose speak: Kings, princes, lords!
    If there be one among the fair'st of Greece
    That holds his honour higher than his ease,
    That seeks his praise more than he fears his peril,
    That knows his valour and knows not his fear,
    That loves his mistress more than in confession
    With truant vows to her own lips he loves,
    And dare avow her beauty and her worth
    In other arms than hers-to him this challenge.
    Hector, in view of Troyans and of Greeks,
    Shall make it good or do his best to do it:
    He hath a lady wiser, fairer, truer,
    Than ever Greek did couple in his arms;
    And will to-morrow with his trumpet call
    Mid-way between your tents and walls of Troy
    To rouse a Grecian that is true in love.
    If any come, Hector shall honour him;
    If none, he'll say in Troy, when he retires,
    The Grecian dames are sunburnt and not worth
    The splinter of a lance. Even so much.
  AGAMEMNON. This shall be told our lovers, Lord Aeneas.
    If none of them have soul in such a kind,
    We left them all at home. But we are soldiers;
    And may that soldier a mere recreant prove
    That means not, hath not, or is not in love.
    If then one is, or hath, or means to be,
    That one meets Hector; if none else, I am he.
  NESTOR. Tell him of Nestor, one that was a man
    When Hector's grandsire suck'd. He is old now;
    But if there be not in our Grecian mould
    One noble man that hath one spark of fire
    To answer for his love, tell him from me
    I'll hide my silver beard in a gold beaver,
    And in my vantbrace put this wither'd brawn,
    And, meeting him, will tell him that my lady
    Was fairer than his grandame, and as chaste
    As may be in the world. His youth in flood,
    I'll prove this truth with my three drops of blood.
  AENEAS. Now heavens forfend such scarcity of youth!
  ULYSSES. Amen.
  AGAMEMNON. Fair Lord Aeneas, let me touch your hand;
    To our pavilion shall I lead you, first.
    Achilles shall have word of this intent;
    So shall each lord of Greece, from tent to tent.
    Yourself shall feast with us before you go,
    And find the welcome of a noble foe.
                           Exeunt all but ULYSSES and NESTOR
  ULYSSES. Nestor!
  NESTOR. What says Ulysses?
  ULYSSES. I have a young conception in my brain;
    Be you my time to bring it to some shape.
  NESTOR. What is't?
  ULYSSES. This 'tis:
    Blunt wedges rive hard knots. The seeded pride
    That hath to this maturity blown up
    In rank Achilles must or now be cropp'd
    Or, shedding, breed a nursery of like evil
    To overbulk us all.
  NESTOR. Well, and how?
  ULYSSES. This challenge that the gallant Hector sends,
    However it is spread in general name,
    Relates in purpose only to Achilles.
  NESTOR. True. The purpose is perspicuous even as substance
    Whose grossness little characters sum up;
    And, in the publication, make no strain
    But that Achilles, were his brain as barren
    As banks of Libya-though, Apollo knows,
    'Tis dry enough-will with great speed of judgment,
    Ay, with celerity, find Hector's purpose
    Pointing on him.
  ULYSSES. And wake him to the answer, think you?
  NESTOR. Why, 'tis most meet. Who may you else oppose
    That can from Hector bring those honours off,
    If not Achilles? Though 't be a sportful combat,
    Yet in this trial much opinion dwells;
    For here the Troyans taste our dear'st repute
    With their fin'st palate; and trust to me, Ulysses,
    Our imputation shall be oddly pois'd
    In this vile action; for the success,
    Although particular, shall give a scantling
    Of good or bad unto the general;
    And in such indexes, although small pricks
    To their subsequent volumes, there is seen
    The baby figure of the giant mas
    Of things to come at large. It is suppos'd
    He that meets Hector issues from our choice;
    And choice, being mutual act of all our souls,
    Makes merit her election, and doth boil,
    As 'twere from forth us all, a man distill'd
    Out of our virtues; who miscarrying,
    What heart receives from hence a conquering part,
    To steel a strong opinion to themselves?
    Which entertain'd, limbs are his instruments,
    In no less working than are swords and bows
    Directive by the limbs.
  ULYSSES. Give pardon to my speech.
    Therefore 'tis meet Achilles meet not Hector.
    Let us, like merchants, show our foulest wares
    And think perchance they'll sell; if not, the lustre
    Of the better yet to show shall show the better,
    By showing the worst first. Do not consent
    That ever Hector and Achilles meet;
    For both our honour and our shame in this
    Are dogg'd with two strange followers.
  NESTOR. I see them not with my old eyes. What are they?
  ULYSSES. What glory our Achilles shares from Hector,
    Were he not proud, we all should wear with him;
    But he already is too insolent;
    And it were better parch in Afric sun
    Than in the pride and salt scorn of his eyes,
    Should he scape Hector fair. If he were foil'd,
    Why, then we do our main opinion crush
    In taint of our best man. No, make a lott'ry;
    And, by device, let blockish Ajax draw
    The sort to fight with Hector. Among ourselves
    Give him allowance for the better man;
    For that will physic the great Myrmidon,
    Who broils in loud applause, and make him fall
    His crest, that prouder than blue Iris bends.
    If the dull brainless Ajax come safe off,
    We'll dress him up in voices; if he fail,
    Yet go we under our opinion still
    That we have better men. But, hit or miss,
    Our project's life this shape of sense assumes-
    Ajax employ'd plucks down Achilles' plumes.
  NESTOR. Now, Ulysses, I begin to relish thy advice;
    And I will give a taste thereof forthwith
    To Agamemnon. Go we to him straight.
    Two curs shall tame each other: pride alone
    Must tarre the mastiffs on, as 'twere their bone.
Exeunt

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Over at the Greek camp, a bunch of commanders and soldiers hang out in front of Agamemnon's tent. Agamemnon tries to give his guys a pep talk about how, even though the Greeks have come up "short" after seven loooooong years of battle, they shouldn't be bummed because the gods are just trying to test them. After all, greatness comes from adversity and overcoming lengthy "trials." Put that on a motivational poster, why don't you? Nestor chimes in that "Great Agamemnon" is totally right. The Greeks should turn their frowns upside down and get out there and kick some Trojan butt. Next Ulysses steps up and speaks. Brain Snack: Ulysses' alias is "Odysseus," a.k.a. the same dude who kicks butt and takes names throughout Homer's Odyssey. FYI--He's usually called "Ulysses" in Roman mythology and "Odysseus" in Greek mythology.) Ulysses says something like "No disrespect to Agamemnon or Nestor but, the problem isn't just that this war has been dragging on for 7 years. The problem is that that the Greek army is in total chaos because the soldiers have zero respect for authority and the social pecking order. Case in point, the great Achilles refuses to fight and spends all his time in his tent "on a lazy bed" with his BFF-and-oh-yeah-maybe-lover, Patroclus. Patroclus, by the way, is always imitating the Greek commanders, just like a stand-up comedian . We also find out that Ajax's slave, Thersites, has been bagging on the commanders, too. While the Greek leaders complain about the soldiers' lack of respect for authority, Aeneas shows up from the Trojan camp saying he wants to talk to the "great Agamemnon." Aeneas delivers a message from the Trojan warrior Hector, who has issued a throw-down to any Greek warrior who thinks he's got the stones to face him in man-to-man combat. The winner gets to say that his wife is hotter, "wiser," and "truer" than any other woman in the land. The Greeks say they're up for the challenge and invite Aeneas to stay and party with them that night before he goes back to the Trojan camp. Ulysses and Nestor are left alone on stage. Cue maniacal laughter. Ulysses says he's got a plan that will get Achilles out of his tent and back on the battlefield. First, it's obvious that Hector issued the throw down challenge because he's looking for a fight with Achilles. But, Ulysses and Nestor don't think it's a good idea for Achilles to fight Hector since it would be totes embarrassing if he lost. Plus, it would really do a number on morale if the other soldiers saw one of their great warriors go down. Ulysses and Nestor decide that, instead, they should get "dull, brainless" Ajax to fight Hector. If Ajax loses, hey, no big whoop. They can just play it off. But if Ajax wins, maybe "proud" Achilles will get jealous and finally come out of his tent to fight in the war. They rig a fake lottery and then act all surprised and excited when Ajax's name gets picked. No wonder they call the guy "wily Ulysses."


prompt:
Chapter: ACT II. SCENE 1.
The Grecian camp

Enter Ajax and THERSITES

  AJAX. Thersites!
  THERSITES. Agamemnon-how if he had boils full, an over, generally?
  AJAX. Thersites!
  THERSITES. And those boils did run-say so. Did not the general run
    then? Were not that a botchy core?
  AJAX. Dog!
  THERSITES. Then there would come some matter from him;
    I see none now.
  AJAX. Thou bitch-wolf's son, canst thou not hear? Feel, then.
                                                  [Strikes him.]
  THERSITES. The plague of Greece upon thee, thou mongrel beef-witted
    lord!
  AJAX. Speak, then, thou whinid'st leaven, speak. I will beat thee
    into handsomeness.
  THERSITES. I shall sooner rail thee into wit and holiness; but I
    think thy horse will sooner con an oration than thou learn a
    prayer without book. Thou canst strike, canst thou? A red murrain
    o' thy jade's tricks!
  AJAX. Toadstool, learn me the proclamation.
  THERSITES. Dost thou think I have no sense, thou strikest me thus?
  AJAX. The proclamation!
  THERSITES. Thou art proclaim'd, a fool, I think.
  AJAX. Do not, porpentine, do not; my fingers itch.
  THERSITES. I would thou didst itch from head to foot and I had the
    scratching of thee; I would make thee the loathsomest scab in
    Greece. When thou art forth in the incursions, thou strikest as
    slow as another.
  AJAX. I say, the proclamation.
  THERSITES. Thou grumblest and railest every hour on Achilles; and
    thou art as full of envy at his greatness as Cerberus is at
    Proserpina's beauty-ay, that thou bark'st at him.
  AJAX. Mistress Thersites!
  THERSITES. Thou shouldst strike him.
  AJAX. Cobloaf!
  THERSITES. He would pun thee into shivers with his fist, as a
    sailor breaks a biscuit.
  AJAX. You whoreson cur!                          [Strikes him]
  THERSITES. Do, do.
  AJAX. Thou stool for a witch!
  THERSITES. Ay, do, do; thou sodden-witted lord! Thou hast no more
    brain than I have in mine elbows; an assinico may tutor thee. You
    scurvy valiant ass! Thou art here but to thrash Troyans, and thou
    art bought and sold among those of any wit like a barbarian
    slave. If thou use to beat me, I will begin at thy heel and tell
    what thou art by inches, thou thing of no bowels, thou!
  AJAX. You dog!
  THERSITES. You scurvy lord!
  AJAX. You cur!                                   [Strikes him]
  THERSITES. Mars his idiot! Do, rudeness; do, camel; do, do.

                 Enter ACHILLES and PATROCLUS

  ACHILLES. Why, how now, Ajax! Wherefore do you thus?
    How now, Thersites! What's the matter, man?
  THERSITES. You see him there, do you?
  ACHILLES. Ay; what's the matter?
  THERSITES. Nay, look upon him.
  ACHILLES. So I do. What's the matter?
  THERSITES. Nay, but regard him well.
  ACHILLES. Well! why, so I do.
  THERSITES. But yet you look not well upon him; for who some ever
    you take him to be, he is Ajax.
  ACHILLES. I know that, fool.
  THERSITES. Ay, but that fool knows not himself.
  AJAX. Therefore I beat thee.
  THERSITES. Lo, lo, lo, lo, what modicums of wit he utters! His
    evasions have ears thus long. I have bobb'd his brain more than
    he has beat my bones. I will buy nine sparrows for a penny, and
    his pia mater is not worth the ninth part of a sparrow. This
    lord, Achilles, Ajax-who wears his wit in his belly and his guts
    in his head-I'll tell you what I say of him.
  ACHILLES. What?
  THERSITES. I say this Ajax-        [AJAX offers to strike him]
  ACHILLES. Nay, good Ajax.
  THERSITES. Has not so much wit-
  ACHILLES. Nay, I must hold you.
  THERSITES. As will stop the eye of Helen's needle, for whom he
    comes to fight.
  ACHILLES. Peace, fool.
  THERSITES. I would have peace and quietness, but the fool will not-
    he there; that he; look you there.
  AJAX. O thou damned cur! I shall-
  ACHILLES. Will you set your wit to a fool's?
  THERSITES. No, I warrant you, the fool's will shame it.
  PATROCLUS. Good words, Thersites.
  ACHILLES. What's the quarrel?
  AJAX. I bade the vile owl go learn me the tenour of the
    proclamation, and he rails upon me.
  THERSITES. I serve thee not.
  AJAX. Well, go to, go to.
  THERSITES. I serve here voluntary.
  ACHILLES. Your last service was suff'rance; 'twas not voluntary. No
    man is beaten voluntary. Ajax was here the voluntary, and you as
    under an impress.
  THERSITES. E'en so; a great deal of your wit too lies in your
    sinews, or else there be liars. Hector shall have a great catch
    an he knock out either of your brains: 'a were as good crack a
    fusty nut with no kernel.
  ACHILLES. What, with me too, Thersites?
  THERSITES. There's Ulysses and old Nestor-whose wit was mouldy ere
    your grandsires had nails on their toes-yoke you like draught
    oxen, and make you plough up the wars.
  ACHILLES. What, what?
  THERSITES. Yes, good sooth. To Achilles, to Ajax, to-
  AJAX. I shall cut out your tongue.
  THERSITES. 'Tis no matter; I shall speak as much as thou
    afterwards.
  PATROCLUS. No more words, Thersites; peace!
  THERSITES. I will hold my peace when Achilles' brach bids me, shall
    I?
  ACHILLES. There's for you, Patroclus.
  THERSITES. I will see you hang'd like clotpoles ere I come any more
    to your tents. I will keep where there is wit stirring, and leave
    the faction of fools.
Exit
  PATROCLUS. A good riddance.
  ACHILLES. Marry, this, sir, is proclaim'd through all our host,
    That Hector, by the fifth hour of the sun,
    Will with a trumpet 'twixt our tents and Troy,
    To-morrow morning, call some knight to arms
    That hath a stomach; and such a one that dare
    Maintain I know not what; 'tis trash. Farewell.
  AJAX. Farewell. Who shall answer him?
  ACHILLES. I know not; 'tis put to lott'ry. Otherwise. He knew his
    man.
  AJAX. O, meaning you! I will go learn more of it.
Exeunt

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Elsewhere in the Greek camp, Ajax yells at his slave Thersites, who ignores him and talks smack about what it would be like if Agamemnon had a bunch of nasty, oozing boils and skin ulcers. Ajax is enraged when his slave blows him off. He asks him if he's deaf and calls him a bunch of names like "dog," "b****-wolf's son," "Toadstool," "cobloaf," and so on. Just in case Thersites doesn't know he's in trouble, Ajax beats him... repeatedly. What does Thersites do? He eggs on Ajax and encourages the guy to beat him some more. Finally, Thersites calls Ajax an idiot and insists that when it comes to trash-talk, Thersites totally owns him. Tired of lazing about in their tent, Achilles and Patroclus show up and want to know what's going on. We find out that Ajax wants Thersites to find out about a proclamation that's just been issued, but Thersites refuses. Thersites keeps talking smack to his master and gets into a spat with Achilles. Then he storms off. Luckily, Achilles knows what's up. He tells Ajax that the proclamation is about the lottery to see who's going to throw down with Hector. Achilles brags that if there wasn't going to be a lottery, he'd be the guy chosen to fight, since he's so awesome. Ajax is all, "whatever, man." But hey! It looks like the plot might work.


prompt:
Chapter: ACT II. SCENE 2.
Troy. PRIAM'S palace

Enter PRIAM, HECTOR, TROILUS, PARIS, and HELENUS

  PRIAM. After so many hours, lives, speeches, spent,
    Thus once again says Nestor from the Greeks:
    'Deliver Helen, and all damage else-
    As honour, loss of time, travail, expense,
    Wounds, friends, and what else dear that is consum'd
    In hot digestion of this cormorant war-
    Shall be struck off.' Hector, what say you to't?
  HECTOR. Though no man lesser fears the Greeks than I,
    As far as toucheth my particular,
    Yet, dread Priam,
    There is no lady of more softer bowels,
    More spongy to suck in the sense of fear,
    More ready to cry out 'Who knows what follows?'
    Than Hector is. The wound of peace is surety,
    Surety secure; but modest doubt is call'd
    The beacon of the wise, the tent that searches
    To th' bottom of the worst. Let Helen go.
    Since the first sword was drawn about this question,
    Every tithe soul 'mongst many thousand dismes
    Hath been as dear as Helen-I mean, of ours.
    If we have lost so many tenths of ours
    To guard a thing not ours, nor worth to us,
    Had it our name, the value of one ten,
    What merit's in that reason which denies
    The yielding of her up?
  TROILUS. Fie, fie, my brother!
    Weigh you the worth and honour of a king,
    So great as our dread father's, in a scale
    Of common ounces? Will you with counters sum
    The past-proportion of his infinite,
    And buckle in a waist most fathomless
    With spans and inches so diminutive
    As fears and reasons? Fie, for godly shame!
  HELENUS. No marvel though you bite so sharp at reasons,
    You are so empty of them. Should not our father
    Bear the great sway of his affairs with reasons,
    Because your speech hath none that tells him so?
  TROILUS. You are for dreams and slumbers, brother priest;
    You fur your gloves with reason. Here are your reasons:
    You know an enemy intends you harm;
    You know a sword employ'd is perilous,
    And reason flies the object of all harm.
    Who marvels, then, when Helenus beholds
    A Grecian and his sword, if he do set
    The very wings of reason to his heels
    And fly like chidden Mercury from Jove,
    Or like a star disorb'd? Nay, if we talk of reason,
    Let's shut our gates and sleep. Manhood and honour
    Should have hare hearts, would they but fat their thoughts
    With this cramm'd reason. Reason and respect
    Make livers pale and lustihood deject.
  HECTOR. Brother, she is not worth what she doth, cost
    The keeping.
  TROILUS. What's aught but as 'tis valued?
  HECTOR. But value dwells not in particular will:
    It holds his estimate and dignity
    As well wherein 'tis precious of itself
    As in the prizer. 'Tis mad idolatry
    To make the service greater than the god-I
    And the will dotes that is attributive
    To what infectiously itself affects,
    Without some image of th' affected merit.
  TROILUS. I take to-day a wife, and my election
    Is led on in the conduct of my will;
    My will enkindled by mine eyes and ears,
    Two traded pilots 'twixt the dangerous shores
    Of will and judgment: how may I avoid,
    Although my will distaste what it elected,
    The wife I chose? There can be no evasion
    To blench from this and to stand firm by honour.
    We turn not back the silks upon the merchant
    When we have soil'd them; nor the remainder viands
    We do not throw in unrespective sieve,
    Because we now are full. It was thought meet
    Paris should do some vengeance on the Greeks;
    Your breath with full consent benied his sails;
    The seas and winds, old wranglers, took a truce,
    And did him service. He touch'd the ports desir'd;
    And for an old aunt whom the Greeks held captive
    He brought a Grecian queen, whose youth and freshness
    Wrinkles Apollo's, and makes stale the morning.
    Why keep we her? The Grecians keep our aunt.
    Is she worth keeping? Why, she is a pearl
    Whose price hath launch'd above a thousand ships,
    And turn'd crown'd kings to merchants.
    If you'll avouch 'twas wisdom Paris went-
    As you must needs, for you all cried 'Go, go'-
    If you'll confess he brought home worthy prize-
    As you must needs, for you all clapp'd your hands,
    And cried 'Inestimable!' -why do you now
    The issue of your proper wisdoms rate,
    And do a deed that never fortune did-
    Beggar the estimation which you priz'd
    Richer than sea and land? O theft most base,
    That we have stol'n what we do fear to keep!
    But thieves unworthy of a thing so stol'n
    That in their country did them that disgrace
    We fear to warrant in our native place!
  CASSANDRA. [Within] Cry, Troyans, cry.
  PRIAM. What noise, what shriek is this?
  TROILUS. 'Tis our mad sister; I do know her voice.
  CASSANDRA. [Within] Cry, Troyans.
  HECTOR. It is Cassandra.

                  Enter CASSANDRA, raving

  CASSANDRA. Cry, Troyans, cry. Lend me ten thousand eyes,
    And I will fill them with prophetic tears.
  HECTOR. Peace, sister, peace.
  CASSANDRA. Virgins and boys, mid-age and wrinkled eld,
    Soft infancy, that nothing canst but cry,
    Add to my clamours. Let us pay betimes
    A moiety of that mass of moan to come.
    Cry, Troyans, cry. Practise your eyes with tears.
    Troy must not be, nor goodly Ilion stand;
    Our firebrand brother, Paris, burns us all.
    Cry, Troyans, cry, A Helen and a woe!
    Cry, cry. Troy burns, or else let Helen go.
Exit
  HECTOR. Now, youthful Troilus, do not these high strains
    Of divination in our sister work
    Some touches of remorse, or is your blood
    So madly hot that no discourse of reason,
    Nor fear of bad success in a bad cause,
    Can qualify the same?
  TROILUS. Why, brother Hector,
    We may not think the justness of each act
    Such and no other than event doth form it;
    Nor once deject the courage of our minds
    Because Cassandra's mad. Her brain-sick raptures
    Cannot distaste the goodness of a quarrel
    Which hath our several honours all engag'd
    To make it gracious. For my private part,
    I am no more touch'd than all Priam's sons;
    And Jove forbid there should be done amongst us
    Such things as might offend the weakest spleen
    To fight for and maintain.
  PARIS. Else might the world convince of levity
    As well my undertakings as your counsels;
    But I attest the gods, your full consent
    Gave wings to my propension, and cut of
    All fears attending on so dire a project.
    For what, alas, can these my single arms?
    What propugnation is in one man's valour
    To stand the push and enmity of those
    This quarrel would excite? Yet, I protest,
    Were I alone to pass the difficulties,
    And had as ample power as I have will,
    Paris should ne'er retract what he hath done
    Nor faint in the pursuit.
  PRIAM. Paris, you speak
    Like one besotted on your sweet delights.
    You have the honey still, but these the gall;
    So to be valiant is no praise at all.
  PARIS. Sir, I propose not merely to myself
    The pleasures such a beauty brings with it;
    But I would have the soil of her fair rape
    Wip'd off in honourable keeping her.
    What treason were it to the ransack'd queen,
    Disgrace to your great worths, and shame to me,
    Now to deliver her possession up
    On terms of base compulsion! Can it be
    That so degenerate a strain as this
    Should once set footing in your generous bosoms?
    There's not the meanest spirit on our party
    Without a heart to dare or sword to draw
    When Helen is defended; nor none so noble
    Whose life were ill bestow'd or death unfam'd
    Where Helen is the subject. Then, I say,
    Well may we fight for her whom we know well
    The world's large spaces cannot parallel.
  HECTOR. Paris and Troilus, you have both said well;
    And on the cause and question now in hand
    Have gloz'd, but superficially; not much
    Unlike young men, whom Aristode thought
    Unfit to hear moral philosophy.
    The reasons you allege do more conduce
    To the hot passion of distemp'red blood
    Than to make up a free determination
    'Twixt right and wrong; for pleasure and revenge
    Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice
    Of any true decision. Nature craves
    All dues be rend'red to their owners. Now,
    What nearer debt in all humanity
    Than wife is to the husband? If this law
    Of nature be corrupted through affection;
    And that great minds, of partial indulgence
    To their benumbed wills, resist the same;
    There is a law in each well-order'd nation
    To curb those raging appetites that are
    Most disobedient and refractory.
    If Helen, then, be wife to Sparta's king-
    As it is known she is-these moral laws
    Of nature and of nations speak aloud
    To have her back return'd. Thus to persist
    In doing wrong extenuates not wrong,
    But makes it much more heavy. Hector's opinion
    Is this, in way of truth. Yet, ne'er the less,
    My spritely brethren, I propend to you
    In resolution to keep Helen still;
    For 'tis a cause that hath no mean dependence
    Upon our joint and several dignities.
  TROILUS. Why, there you touch'd the life of our design.
    Were it not glory that we more affected
    Than the performance of our heaving spleens,
    I would not wish a drop of Troyan blood
    Spent more in her defence. But, worthy Hector,
    She is a theme of honour and renown,
    A spur to valiant and magnanimous deeds,
    Whose present courage may beat down our foes,
    And fame in time to come canonize us;
    For I presume brave Hector would not lose
    So rich advantage of a promis'd glory
    As smiles upon the forehead of this action
    For the wide world's revenue.
  HECTOR. I am yours,
    You valiant offspring of great Priamus.
    I have a roisting challenge sent amongst
    The dull and factious nobles of the Greeks
    Will strike amazement to their drowsy spirits.
    I was advertis'd their great general slept,
    Whilst emulation in the army crept.
    This, I presume, will wake him.
Exeunt

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: In Troy, Priam and his sons talk about whether or not they should just give Helen back to the Greeks so they can end the war that's cost so much money and so many Greek lives. Gee, that actually sounds ... sensible. So, obviously it's not going to happen. Hector thinks they should let her go. He argues that every "soul" that's been killed during the war is just as valuable as Helen's, and Helen just isn't worth it. Helenus agrees with Hector, but not Troilus. They had Paris's back seven years ago when he took Helen from the Greeks. Now they're going to say they should give Helen back? No way. Now we find out that Paris stole Helen from Menelaus not because he was in lust with her so much as to get revenge because the Greeks took his "old aunt" and held her captive. Troilus calls Helen a "pearl, / whose price hath launch'd above a thousand ships." Brain Snack: This line is probably a shout-out to Christopher Marlowe's famous play, Doctor Faustus, in which a character asks "Was this the face that launched a thousand ships?" Just as Troilus is explaining why the Trojans shouldn't give up the prize they stole from the Greeks--you know, Helen--his sister Cassandra comes running in ranting and raving about a prophesy. Cassandra's hair is a crazy mess. In Shakespeare, a woman's crazy hair = madness. Just ask Ophelia in Act 4, scene 5 of Hamlet. Cassandra warns her dad and brothers that if they keep Helen, Troy is totally going to burn. Hector thinks maybe they should listen to their sis but Troilus blows her off and says Cassandra is crazy, obviously. After the guys dismiss their sis, they get back to arguing about Helen. When Paris defends his right to keep Helen, his dad points out that, even though he gets to enjoy Helen's "honey," everybody else has to suffer for it. Gross, dad. Paris argues that keeping Helen will erase "the soil of her fair rape," meaning--he knows it was wrong to kidnap Helen, but he thinks that if he can fend off the Greeks and keep her, it will bring him honor. Troilus agrees and says that Helen's a great excuse to keep fighting so they can all gain "honor" on the battlefield. Fine. Hector agrees to keep fighting to keep Helen, since it's now a matter of honor.


prompt:
Chapter: ACT II. SCENE 3.
The Grecian camp. Before the tent of ACHILLES

Enter THERSITES, solus

  THERSITES. How now, Thersites! What, lost in the labyrinth of thy
    fury? Shall the elephant Ajax carry it thus? He beats me, and I
    rail at him. O worthy satisfaction! Would it were otherwise: that
    I could beat him, whilst he rail'd at me! 'Sfoot, I'll learn to
    conjure and raise devils, but I'll see some issue of my spiteful
    execrations. Then there's Achilles, a rare engineer! If Troy be
    not taken till these two undermine it, the walls will stand till
    they fall of themselves. O thou great thunder-darter of Olympus,
    forget that thou art Jove, the king of gods, and, Mercury, lose
    all the serpentine craft of thy caduceus, if ye take not that
    little little less-than-little wit from them that they have!
    which short-arm'd ignorance itself knows is so abundant scarce,
    it will not in circumvention deliver a fly from a spider without
    drawing their massy irons and cutting the web. After this, the
    vengeance on the whole camp! or, rather, the Neapolitan
    bone-ache! for that, methinks, is the curse depending on those
    that war for a placket. I have said my prayers; and devil Envy
    say 'Amen.' What ho! my Lord Achilles!

                      Enter PATROCLUS

  PATROCLUS. Who's there? Thersites! Good Thersites, come in and
    rail.
  THERSITES. If I could 'a rememb'red a gilt counterfeit, thou
    wouldst not have slipp'd out of my contemplation; but it is no
    matter; thyself upon thyself! The common curse of mankind, folly
    and ignorance, be thine in great revenue! Heaven bless thee from
    a tutor, and discipline come not near thee! Let thy blood be thy
    direction till thy death. Then if she that lays thee out says
    thou art a fair corse, I'll be sworn and sworn upon't she never
    shrouded any but lazars. Amen. Where's Achilles?
  PATROCLUS. What, art thou devout? Wast thou in prayer?
  THERSITES. Ay, the heavens hear me!
  PATROCLUS. Amen.

                      Enter ACHILLES

  ACHILLES. Who's there?
  PATROCLUS. Thersites, my lord.
  ACHILLES. Where, where? O, where? Art thou come? Why, my cheese, my
    digestion, why hast thou not served thyself in to my table so
    many meals? Come, what's Agamemnon?
  THERSITES. Thy commander, Achilles. Then tell me, Patroclus, what's
    Achilles?
  PATROCLUS. Thy lord, Thersites. Then tell me, I pray thee, what's
    Thersites?
  THERSITES. Thy knower, Patroclus. Then tell me, Patroclus, what art
    thou?
  PATROCLUS. Thou must tell that knowest.
  ACHILLES. O, tell, tell,
  THERSITES. I'll decline the whole question. Agamemnon commands
    Achilles; Achilles is my lord; I am Patroclus' knower; and
    Patroclus is a fool.
  PATROCLUS. You rascal!
  THERSITES. Peace, fool! I have not done.
  ACHILLES. He is a privileg'd man. Proceed, Thersites.
  THERSITES. Agamemnon is a fool; Achilles is a fool; Thersites is a
    fool; and, as aforesaid, Patroclus is a fool.
  ACHILLES. Derive this; come.
  THERSITES. Agamemnon is a fool to offer to command Achilles;
    Achilles is a fool to be commanded of Agamemnon; Thersites is a
    fool to serve such a fool; and this Patroclus is a fool positive.
  PATROCLUS. Why am I a fool?
  THERSITES. Make that demand of the Creator. It suffices me thou
    art. Look you, who comes here?
  ACHILLES. Come, Patroclus, I'll speak with nobody. Come in with me,
    Thersites.
Exit
  THERSITES. Here is such patchery, such juggling, and such knavery.
    All the argument is a whore and a cuckold-a good quarrel to draw
    emulous factions and bleed to death upon. Now the dry serpigo on
    the subject, and war and lechery confound all!
Exit

         Enter AGAMEMNON, ULYSSES, NESTOR, DIOMEDES,
                   AJAX, and CALCHAS

  AGAMEMNON. Where is Achilles?
  PATROCLUS. Within his tent; but ill-dispos'd, my lord.
  AGAMEMNON. Let it be known to him that we are here.
    He shent our messengers; and we lay by
    Our appertainings, visiting of him.
    Let him be told so; lest, perchance, he think
    We dare not move the question of our place
    Or know not what we are.
  PATROCLUS. I shall say so to him.
Exit
  ULYSSES. We saw him at the opening of his tent.
    He is not sick.
  AJAX. Yes, lion-sick, sick of proud heart. You may call it
    melancholy, if you will favour the man; but, by my head, 'tis
    pride. But why, why? Let him show us a cause. A word, my lord.
                               [Takes AGAMEMNON aside]
  NESTOR. What moves Ajax thus to bay at him?
  ULYSSES. Achilles hath inveigled his fool from him.
  NESTOR.Who, Thersites?
  ULYSSES. He.
  NESTOR. Then will Ajax lack matter, if he have lost his argument
  ULYSSES. No; you see he is his argument that has his argument-
    Achilles.
  NESTOR. All the better; their fraction is more our wish than their
    faction. But it was a strong composure a fool could disunite!
  ULYSSES. The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may easily untie.

                    Re-enter PATROCLUS

    Here comes Patroclus.
  NESTOR. No Achilles with him.
  ULYSSES. The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy; his legs
    are legs for necessity, not for flexure.
  PATROCLUS. Achilles bids me say he is much sorry
    If any thing more than your sport and pleasure
    Did move your greatness and this noble state
    To call upon him; he hopes it is no other
    But for your health and your digestion sake,
    An after-dinner's breath.
  AGAMEMNON. Hear you, Patroclus.
    We are too well acquainted with these answers;
    But his evasion, wing'd thus swift with scorn,
    Cannot outfly our apprehensions.
    Much attribute he hath, and much the reason
    Why we ascribe it to him. Yet all his virtues,
    Not virtuously on his own part beheld,
    Do in our eyes begin to lose their gloss;
    Yea, like fair fruit in an unwholesome dish,
    Are like to rot untasted. Go and tell him
    We come to speak with him; and you shall not sin
    If you do say we think him over-proud
    And under-honest, in self-assumption greater
    Than in the note of judgment; and worthier than himself
    Here tend the savage strangeness he puts on,
    Disguise the holy strength of their command,
    And underwrite in an observing kind
    His humorous predominance; yea, watch
    His pettish lunes, his ebbs, his flows, as if
    The passage and whole carriage of this action
    Rode on his tide. Go tell him this, and ad
    That if he overhold his price so much
    We'll none of him, but let him, like an engine
    Not portable, lie under this report:
    Bring action hither; this cannot go to war.
    A stirring dwarf we do allowance give
    Before a sleeping giant. Tell him so.
  PATROCLUS. I shall, and bring his answer presently.
Exit
  AGAMEMNON. In second voice we'll not be satisfied;
    We come to speak with him. Ulysses, enter you.
                                      Exit ULYSSES
  AJAX. What is he more than another?
  AGAMEMNON. No more than what he thinks he is.
  AJAX. Is he so much? Do you not think he thinks himself a better
    man than I am?
  AGAMEMNON. No question.
  AJAX. Will you subscribe his thought and say he is?
  AGAMEMNON. No, noble Ajax; you are as strong, as valiant, as wise,
    no less noble, much more gentle, and altogether more tractable.
  AJAX. Why should a man be proud? How doth pride grow? I know not
    what pride is.
  AGAMEMNON. Your mind is the clearer, Ajax, and your virtues the
    fairer. He that is proud eats up himself. Pride is his own glass,
    his own trumpet, his own chronicle; and whatever praises itself
    but in the deed devours the deed in the praise.

                      Re-enter ULYSSES

  AJAX. I do hate a proud man as I do hate the engend'ring of toads.
  NESTOR. [Aside] And yet he loves himself: is't not strange?
  ULYSSES. Achilles will not to the field to-morrow.
  AGAMEMNON. What's his excuse?
  ULYSSES. He doth rely on none;
    But carries on the stream of his dispose,
    Without observance or respect of any,
    In will peculiar and in self-admission.
  AGAMEMNON. Why will he not, upon our fair request,
    Untent his person and share the air with us?
  ULYSSES. Things small as nothing, for request's sake only,
    He makes important; possess'd he is with greatness,
    And speaks not to himself but with a pride
    That quarrels at self-breath. Imagin'd worth
    Holds in his blood such swol'n and hot discourse
    That 'twixt his mental and his active parts
    Kingdom'd Achilles in commotion rages,
    And batters down himself. What should I say?
    He is so plaguy proud that the death tokens of it
    Cry 'No recovery.'
  AGAMEMNON. Let Ajax go to him.
    Dear lord, go you and greet him in his tent.
    'Tis said he holds you well; and will be led
    At your request a little from himself.
  ULYSSES. O Agamemnon, let it not be so!
    We'll consecrate the steps that Ajax makes
    When they go from Achilles. Shall the proud lord
    That bastes his arrogance with his own seam
    And never suffers matter of the world
    Enter his thoughts, save such as doth revolve
    And ruminate himself-shall he be worshipp'd
    Of that we hold an idol more than he?
    No, this thrice-worthy and right valiant lord
    Shall not so stale his palm, nobly acquir'd,
    Nor, by my will, assubjugate his merit,
    As amply titled as Achilles is,
    By going to Achilles.
    That were to enlard his fat-already pride,
    And add more coals to Cancer when he burns
    With entertaining great Hyperion.
    This lord go to him! Jupiter forbid,
    And say in thunder 'Achilles go to him.'
  NESTOR. [Aside] O, this is well! He rubs the vein of him.
  DIOMEDES. [Aside] And how his silence drinks up this applause!
  AJAX. If I go to him, with my armed fist I'll pash him o'er the
    face.
  AGAMEMNON. O, no, you shall not go.
  AJAX. An 'a be proud with me I'll pheeze his pride.
    Let me go to him.
  ULYSSES. Not for the worth that hangs upon our quarrel.
  AJAX. A paltry, insolent fellow!
  NESTOR. [Aside] How he describes himself!
  AJAX. Can he not be sociable?
  ULYSSES. [Aside] The raven chides blackness.
  AJAX. I'll let his humours blood.
  AGAMEMNON. [Aside] He will be the physician that should be the
    patient.
  AJAX. An all men were a my mind-
  ULYSSES. [Aside] Wit would be out of fashion.
  AJAX. 'A should not bear it so, 'a should eat's words first.
    Shall pride carry it?
  NESTOR. [Aside] An 'twould, you'd carry half.
  ULYSSES. [Aside] 'A would have ten shares.
  AJAX. I will knead him, I'll make him supple.
  NESTOR. [Aside] He's not yet through warm. Force him with praises;
    pour in, pour in; his ambition is dry.
  ULYSSES. [To AGAMEMNON] My lord, you feed too much on this dislike.
  NESTOR. Our noble general, do not do so.
  DIOMEDES. You must prepare to fight without Achilles.
  ULYSSES. Why 'tis this naming of him does him harm.
    Here is a man-but 'tis before his face;
    I will be silent.
  NESTOR. Wherefore should you so?
    He is not emulous, as Achilles is.
  ULYSSES. Know the whole world, he is as valiant.
  AJAX. A whoreson dog, that shall palter with us thus!
    Would he were a Troyan!
  NESTOR. What a vice were it in Ajax now-
  ULYSSES. If he were proud.
  DIOMEDES. Or covetous of praise.
  ULYSSES. Ay, or surly borne.
  DIOMEDES. Or strange, or self-affected.
  ULYSSES. Thank the heavens, lord, thou art of sweet composure
    Praise him that gat thee, she that gave thee suck;
    Fam'd be thy tutor, and thy parts of nature
    Thrice-fam'd beyond, beyond all erudition;
    But he that disciplin'd thine arms to fight-
    Let Mars divide eternity in twain
    And give him half; and, for thy vigour,
    Bull-bearing Milo his addition yield
    To sinewy Ajax. I will not praise thy wisdom,
    Which, like a bourn, a pale, a shore, confines
    Thy spacious and dilated parts. Here's Nestor,
    Instructed by the antiquary times-
    He must, he is, he cannot but be wise;
    But pardon, father Nestor, were your days
    As green as Ajax' and your brain so temper'd,
    You should not have the eminence of him,
    But be as Ajax.
  AJAX. Shall I call you father?
  NESTOR. Ay, my good son.
  DIOMEDES. Be rul'd by him, Lord Ajax.
  ULYSSES. There is no tarrying here; the hart Achilles
    Keeps thicket. Please it our great general
    To call together all his state of war;
    Fresh kings are come to Troy. To-morrow
    We must with all our main of power stand fast;
    And here's a lord-come knights from east to west
    And cull their flower, Ajax shall cope the best.
  AGAMEMNON. Go we to council. Let Achilles sleep.
    Light boats sail swift, though greater hulks draw deep.
    Exeunt

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Back at the Greek camp, Thersites rants and raves about how much he hates that "elephant Ajax." He rags on Achilles, too, and asks the gods to destroy the entire Greek army. Better yet, he says, he wishes the whole Greek army would get the "Neapolitan bone-ache." Brain Snack: What the heck's the "Neapolitan bone-ache"? That would be syphilis, which was thought to have originated in Naples. We told you there was a lot of talk about disease in this play. According to Thersites, syphilis would be a fitting punishment for a bunch of guys who have gone to war over a "placket." Patroclus and Achilles come out from Achilles' tent, and Thersites just can't keep his mouth shut. When Agamemnon and his posse finally show up, Achilles runs back into his tent and refuses to come out and talk to anyone. Patroclus is all "Sorry, Achilles is sick and can't leave the tent." Ulysses is all "Gee. If Achilles is so ill, why did I just see him standing outside his tent?" Ajax isn't buying any of this either. He says Achilles is "sick" all right--"Lion-sick." Ajax takes Agamemnon aside and they whisper privately. Then, Agamemnon has Patroclus deliver a message to Achilles, which sounds like this: Dear Achilles: You're acting like a big baby by refusing to come out of your tent to fight. Get your butt out here ASAP... or we'll disown you. Love, Agamemnon. Finally, Ulysses goes inside the tent to work his own persuasive magic. Meanwhile, Ajax is all "Hey Agamemnon, is Achilles really as good as he says he is? Like, say, as good as I am?" Insecure, much?Agamemnon wants to puff up Ajax's ego so he tells him that he thinks he's awesome. Ajax sneers that he totally hates "proud" men. Nestor LOLs at that, since Ajax is one of the proudest guys around. And here comes Ulysses, back from Achilles's tent. The guy doesn't have a good excuse for not returning to battle. He just flat out refuses. Agamemnon suggests that maybe Ajax should try talking to Achilles, but Ulysses says this is a bad idea because Ajax is too awesome and important to stoop to such a low level. The guys stand around pumping up Ajax's ego until the dude's about ready to burst. Sorry, Ajax. They totally snicker behind your back when you leave.


prompt:
Chapter: ACT III. SCENE 1.
Troy. PRIAM'S palace

Music sounds within. Enter PANDARUS and a SERVANT

  PANDARUS. Friend, you-pray you, a word. Do you not follow the young
    Lord Paris?
  SERVANT. Ay, sir, when he goes before me.
  PANDARUS. You depend upon him, I mean?
  SERVANT. Sir, I do depend upon the lord.
  PANDARUS. You depend upon a notable gentleman; I must needs praise
    him.
  SERVANT. The lord be praised!
  PANDARUS. You know me, do you not?
  SERVANT. Faith, sir, superficially.
  PANDARUS. Friend, know me better: I am the Lord Pandarus.
  SERVANT. I hope I shall know your honour better.
  PANDARUS. I do desire it.
  SERVANT. You are in the state of grace.
  PANDARUS. Grace! Not so, friend; honour and lordship are my titles.
    What music is this?
  SERVANT. I do but partly know, sir; it is music in parts.
  PANDARUS. Know you the musicians?
  SERVANT. Wholly, sir.
  PANDARUS. Who play they to?
  SERVANT. To the hearers, sir.
  PANDARUS. At whose pleasure, friend?
  SERVANT. At mine, sir, and theirs that love music.
  PANDARUS. Command, I mean, friend.
  SERVANT. Who shall I command, sir?
  PANDARUS. Friend, we understand not one another: I am too courtly,
    and thou art too cunning. At whose request do these men play?
  SERVANT. That's to't, indeed, sir. Marry, sir, at the request of
    Paris my lord, who is there in person; with him the mortal Venus,
    the heart-blood of beauty, love's invisible soul-
  PANDARUS. Who, my cousin, Cressida?
  SERVANT. No, sir, Helen. Could not you find out that by her
    attributes?
  PANDARUS. It should seem, fellow, that thou hast not seen the Lady
    Cressida. I come to speak with Paris from the Prince Troilus; I
    will make a complimental assault upon him, for my business
    seethes.
  SERVANT. Sodden business! There's a stew'd phrase indeed!

              Enter PARIS and HELEN, attended

  PANDARUS. Fair be to you, my lord, and to all this fair company!
    Fair desires, in all fair measure, fairly guide them-especially
    to you, fair queen! Fair thoughts be your fair pillow.
  HELEN. Dear lord, you are full of fair words.
  PANDARUS. You speak your fair pleasure, sweet queen. Fair prince,
    here is good broken music.
  PARIS. You have broke it, cousin; and by my life, you shall make it
    whole again; you shall piece it out with a piece of your
    performance.
  HELEN. He is full of harmony.
  PANDARUS. Truly, lady, no.
  HELEN. O, sir-
  PANDARUS. Rude, in sooth; in good sooth, very rude.
  PARIS. Well said, my lord. Well, you say so in fits.
  PANDARUS. I have business to my lord, dear queen. My lord, will you
    vouchsafe me a word?
  HELEN. Nay, this shall not hedge us out. We'll hear you sing,
    certainly-
  PANDARUS. Well sweet queen, you are pleasant with me. But, marry,
    thus, my lord: my dear lord and most esteemed friend, your
    brother Troilus-
  HELEN. My Lord Pandarus, honey-sweet lord-
  PANDARUS. Go to, sweet queen, go to-commends himself most
    affectionately to you-
  HELEN. You shall not bob us out of our melody. If you do, our
    melancholy upon your head!
  PANDARUS. Sweet queen, sweet queen; that's a sweet queen, i' faith.
  HELEN. And to make a sweet lady sad is a sour offence.
  PANDARUS. Nay, that shall not serve your turn; that shall it not,
    in truth, la. Nay, I care not for such words; no, no. -And, my
    lord, he desires you that, if the King call for him at supper,
    you will make his excuse.
  HELEN. My Lord Pandarus!
  PANDARUS. What says my sweet queen, my very very sweet queen?
  PARIS. What exploit's in hand? Where sups he to-night?
  HELEN. Nay, but, my lord-
  PANDARUS. What says my sweet queen?-My cousin will fall out with
    you.
  HELEN. You must not know where he sups.
  PARIS. I'll lay my life, with my disposer Cressida.
  PANDARUS. No, no, no such matter; you are wide. Come, your disposer
    is sick.
  PARIS. Well, I'll make's excuse.
  PANDARUS. Ay, good my lord. Why should you say Cressida?
    No, your poor disposer's sick.
  PARIS. I spy.
  PANDARUS. You spy! What do you spy?-Come, give me an instrument.
    Now, sweet queen.
  HELEN. Why, this is kindly done.
  PANDARUS. My niece is horribly in love with a thing you have, sweet
    queen.
  HELEN. She shall have it, my lord, if it be not my Lord Paris.
  PANDARUS. He! No, she'll none of him; they two are twain.
  HELEN. Falling in, after falling out, may make them three.
  PANDARUS. Come, come. I'll hear no more of this; I'll sing you a
    song now.
  HELEN. Ay, ay, prithee now. By my troth, sweet lord, thou hast a
    fine forehead.
  PANDARUS. Ay, you may, you may.
  HELEN. Let thy song be love. This love will undo us all. O Cupid,
    Cupid, Cupid!
  PANDARUS. Love! Ay, that it shall, i' faith.
  PARIS. Ay, good now, love, love, nothing but love.
  PANDARUS. In good troth, it begins so.
[Sings]

    Love, love, nothing but love, still love, still more!
           For, oh, love's bow
           Shoots buck and doe;
           The shaft confounds
           Not that it wounds,
    But tickles still the sore.
    These lovers cry, O ho, they die!
       Yet that which seems the wound to kill
    Doth turn O ho! to ha! ha! he!
       So dying love lives still.
    O ho! a while, but ha! ha! ha!
    O ho! groans out for ha! ha! ha!-hey ho!

  HELEN. In love, i' faith, to the very tip of the nose.
  PARIS. He eats nothing but doves, love; and that breeds hot blood,
    and hot blood begets hot thoughts, and hot thoughts beget hot
    deeds, and hot deeds is love.
  PANDARUS. Is this the generation of love: hot blood, hot thoughts,
    and hot deeds? Why, they are vipers. Is love a generation of
    vipers? Sweet lord, who's a-field today?
  PARIS. Hector, Deiphobus, Helenus, Antenor, and all the gallantry
    of Troy. I would fain have arm'd to-day, but my Nell would not
    have it so. How chance my brother Troilus went not?
  HELEN. He hangs the lip at something. You know all, Lord Pandarus.
  PANDARUS. Not I, honey-sweet queen. I long to hear how they spend
    to-day. You'll remember your brother's excuse?
  PARIS. To a hair.
  PANDARUS. Farewell, sweet queen.
  HELEN. Commend me to your niece.
  PANDARUS. I will, sweet queen.       Exit. Sound a retreat
  PARIS. They're come from the field. Let us to Priam's hall
    To greet the warriors. Sweet Helen, I must woo you
    To help unarm our Hector. His stubborn buckles,
    With these your white enchanting fingers touch'd,
    Shall more obey than to the edge of steel
    Or force of Greekish sinews; you shall do more
    Than all the island kings-disarm great Hector.
  HELEN. 'Twill make us proud to be his servant, Paris;
    Yea, what he shall receive of us in duty
    Gives us more palm in beauty than we have,
    Yea, overshines ourself.
  PARIS. Sweet, above thought I love thee.
Exeunt

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: At Priam's palace, Pandarus chats with a servant while he waits to see Paris. The servant says that Paris is relaxing and listening to some music with "the mortal Venus, the heart-blood of beauty, love's invisible soul." Pandarus is all "whatever, have you seen my niece Cressida? She's way hotter than Helen." Now Paris and Helen enter the room with a bunch of servants. Pandarus falls all over himself flattering her, despite the fact that he just said she wasn't all that. Helen's not buying any of Pandarus's business. She cracks a few sarcastic comments about what a wanna-be smooth talker he is. Finally, Pandarus delivers a message from Troilus, who says he's sorry but he can't make it to dinner that night. Helen and Paris are all "Gee, we wonder where Troilus is going to be tonight. Is he going to be hooking up with Cressida?" Pandarus denies this and tries to change the subject. Helen flirts/bullies Pandarus into entertaining her by singing a mildly dirty love song about Cupid's "shaft" and "dying" love. Paris and Helen torment Pandarus by talking about "hot blood" and "hot deeds" . This totally fake-embarrasses Pandarus, who leaves. Helen is all, "See ya later Pandarus. Say 'hi' to your pretty niece for me!" The A-List couple decide to go greet the warriors returning from the battlefield. Paris turns to Helen and says something flirty like, "Honey, I need you to do me a big favor. Can you use your "enchanting fingers" to undress Hector? The poor guy has a really hard time taking off his armor." Okay, Paris. Whatever turns you on. Helen chuckles seductively and says she'd be "proud to be his servant."


prompt:
Chapter: ACT III. SCENE 2.
Troy. PANDARUS' orchard

Enter PANDARUS and TROILUS' BOY, meeting

  PANDARUS. How now! Where's thy master? At my cousin Cressida's?
  BOY. No, sir; he stays for you to conduct him thither.

                      Enter TROILUS

  PANDARUS. O, here he comes. How now, how now!
  TROILUS. Sirrah, walk off.                  Exit Boy
  PANDARUS. Have you seen my cousin?
  TROILUS. No, Pandarus. I stalk about her door
    Like a strange soul upon the Stygian banks
    Staying for waftage. O, be thou my Charon,
    And give me swift transportance to these fields
    Where I may wallow in the lily beds
    Propos'd for the deserver! O gentle Pandar,
    From Cupid's shoulder pluck his painted wings,
    And fly with me to Cressid!
  PANDARUS. Walk here i' th' orchard, I'll bring her straight.
      Exit
  TROILUS. I am giddy; expectation whirls me round.
    Th' imaginary relish is so sweet
    That it enchants my sense; what will it be
    When that the wat'ry palate tastes indeed
    Love's thrice-repured nectar? Death, I fear me;
    Swooning destruction; or some joy too fine,
    Too subtle-potent, tun'd too sharp in sweetness,
    For the capacity of my ruder powers.
    I fear it much; and I do fear besides
    That I shall lose distinction in my joys;
    As doth a battle, when they charge on heaps
    The enemy flying.

                     Re-enter PANDARUS

  PANDARUS. She's making her ready, she'll come straight; you must be
    witty now. She does so blush, and fetches her wind so short, as
    if she were fray'd with a sprite. I'll fetch her. It is the
    prettiest villain; she fetches her breath as short as a new-ta'en
    sparrow.
Exit
  TROILUS. Even such a passion doth embrace my bosom.
    My heart beats thicker than a feverous pulse,
    And all my powers do their bestowing lose,
    Like vassalage at unawares encount'ring
    The eye of majesty.

              Re-enter PANDARUS With CRESSIDA

  PANDARUS. Come, come, what need you blush? Shame's a baby.-Here she
    is now; swear the oaths now to her that you have sworn to me.-
    What, are you gone again? You must be watch'd ere you be made
    tame, must you? Come your ways, come your ways; an you draw
    backward, we'll put you i' th' fills.-Why do you not speak to
    her?-Come, draw this curtain and let's see your picture.
    Alas the day, how loath you are to offend daylight! An 'twere
    dark, you'd close sooner. So, so; rub on, and kiss the mistress
    How now, a kiss in fee-farm! Build there, carpenter; the air is
    sweet. Nay, you shall fight your hearts out ere I part you. The
    falcon as the tercel, for all the ducks i' th' river. Go to, go
    to.
  TROILUS. You have bereft me of all words, lady.
  PANDARUS. Words pay no debts, give her deeds; but she'll bereave
    you o' th' deeds too, if she call your activity in question.
    What, billing again? Here's 'In witness whereof the parties
    interchangeably.' Come in, come in; I'll go get a fire.
      Exit
  CRESSIDA. Will you walk in, my lord?
  TROILUS. O Cressid, how often have I wish'd me thus!
  CRESSIDA. Wish'd, my lord! The gods grant-O my lord!
  TROILUS. What should they grant? What makes this pretty abruption?
    What too curious dreg espies my sweet lady in the fountain of our
    love?
  CRESSIDA. More dregs than water, if my fears have eyes.
  TROILUS. Fears make devils of cherubims; they never see truly.
  CRESSIDA. Blind fear, that seeing reason leads, finds safer footing
    than blind reason stumbling without fear. To fear the worst oft
    cures the worse.
  TROILUS. O, let my lady apprehend no fear! In all Cupid's pageant
    there is presented no monster.
  CRESSIDA. Nor nothing monstrous neither?
  TROILUS. Nothing, but our undertakings when we vow to weep seas,
    live in fire, eat rocks, tame tigers; thinking it harder for our
    mistress to devise imposition enough than for us to undergo any
    difficulty imposed. This is the monstruosity in love, lady, that
    the will is infinite, and the execution confin'd; that the desire
    is boundless, and the act a slave to limit.
  CRESSIDA. They say all lovers swear more performance than they are
    able, and yet reserve an ability that they never perform; vowing
    more than the perfection of ten, and discharging less than the
    tenth part of one. They that have the voice of lions and the act
    of hares, are they not monsters?
  TROILUS. Are there such? Such are not we. Praise us as we are
    tasted, allow us as we prove; our head shall go bare till merit
    crown it. No perfection in reversion shall have a praise in
    present. We will not name desert before his birth; and, being
    born, his addition shall be humble. Few words to fair faith:
    Troilus shall be such to Cressid as what envy can say worst shall
    be a mock for his truth; and what truth can speak truest not
    truer than Troilus.
  CRESSIDA. Will you walk in, my lord?

                    Re-enter PANDARUS

  PANDARUS. What, blushing still? Have you not done talking yet?
  CRESSIDA. Well, uncle, what folly I commit, I dedicate to you.
  PANDARUS. I thank you for that; if my lord get a boy of you, you'll
    give him me. Be true to my lord; if he flinch, chide me for it.
  TROILUS. You know now your hostages: your uncle's word and my firm
    faith.
  PANDARUS. Nay, I'll give my word for her too: our kindred, though
    they be long ere they are wooed, they are constant being won;
    they are burs, I can tell you; they'll stick where they are
    thrown.
  CRESSIDA. Boldness comes to me now and brings me heart.
    Prince Troilus, I have lov'd you night and day
    For many weary months.
  TROILUS. Why was my Cressid then so hard to win?
  CRESSIDA. Hard to seem won; but I was won, my lord,
    With the first glance that ever-pardon me.
    If I confess much, you will play the tyrant.
    I love you now; but till now not so much
    But I might master it. In faith, I lie;
    My thoughts were like unbridled children, grown
    Too headstrong for their mother. See, we fools!
    Why have I blabb'd? Who shall be true to us,
    When we are so unsecret to ourselves?
    But, though I lov'd you well, I woo'd you not;
    And yet, good faith, I wish'd myself a man,
    Or that we women had men's privilege
    Of speaking first. Sweet, bid me hold my tongue,
    For in this rapture I shall surely speak
    The thing I shall repent. See, see, your silence,
    Cunning in dumbness, from my weakness draws
    My very soul of counsel. Stop my mouth.
  TROILUS. And shall, albeit sweet music issues thence.
  PANDARUS. Pretty, i' faith.
  CRESSIDA. My lord, I do beseech you, pardon me;
    'Twas not my purpose thus to beg a kiss.
    I am asham'd. O heavens! what have I done?
    For this time will I take my leave, my lord.
  TROILUS. Your leave, sweet Cressid!
  PANDARUS. Leave! An you take leave till to-morrow morning-
  CRESSIDA. Pray you, content you.
  TROILUS. What offends you, lady?
  CRESSIDA. Sir, mine own company.
  TROILUS. You cannot shun yourself.
  CRESSIDA. Let me go and try.
    I have a kind of self resides with you;
    But an unkind self, that itself will leave
    To be another's fool. I would be gone.
    Where is my wit? I know not what I speak.
  TROILUS. Well know they what they speak that speak so wisely.
  CRESSIDA. Perchance, my lord, I show more craft than love;
    And fell so roundly to a large confession
    To angle for your thoughts; but you are wise-
    Or else you love not; for to be wise and love
    Exceeds man's might; that dwells with gods above.
  TROILUS. O that I thought it could be in a woman-
    As, if it can, I will presume in you-
    To feed for aye her lamp and flames of love;
    To keep her constancy in plight and youth,
    Outliving beauty's outward, with a mind
    That doth renew swifter than blood decays!
    Or that persuasion could but thus convince me
    That my integrity and truth to you
    Might be affronted with the match and weight
    Of such a winnowed purity in love.
    How were I then uplifted! but, alas,
    I am as true as truth's simplicity,
    And simpler than the infancy of truth.
  CRESSIDA. In that I'll war with you.
  TROILUS. O virtuous fight,
    When right with right wars who shall be most right!
    True swains in love shall in the world to come
    Approve their truth by Troilus, when their rhymes,
    Full of protest, of oath, and big compare,
    Want similes, truth tir'd with iteration-
    As true as steel, as plantage to the moon,
    As sun to day, as turtle to her mate,
    As iron to adamant, as earth to th' centre-
    Yet, after all comparisons of truth,
    As truth's authentic author to be cited,
    'As true as Troilus' shall crown up the verse
    And sanctify the numbers.
  CRESSIDA. Prophet may you be!
    If I be false, or swerve a hair from truth,
    When time is old and hath forgot itself,
    When waterdrops have worn the stones of Troy,
    And blind oblivion swallow'd cities up,
    And mighty states characterless are grated
    To dusty nothing-yet let memory
    From false to false, among false maids in love,
    Upbraid my falsehood when th' have said 'As false
    As air, as water, wind, or sandy earth,
    As fox to lamb, or wolf to heifer's calf,
    Pard to the hind, or stepdame to her son'-
    Yea, let them say, to stick the heart of falsehood,
    'As false as Cressid.'
  PANDARUS. Go to, a bargain made; seal it, seal it; I'll be the
    witness. Here I hold your hand; here my cousin's. If ever you
    prove false one to another, since I have taken such pains to
    bring you together, let all pitiful goers-between be call'd to
    the world's end after my name-call them all Pandars; let all
    constant men be Troiluses, all false women Cressids, and all
    brokers between Pandars. Say 'Amen.'
  TROILUS. Amen.
  CRESSIDA. Amen.
  PANDARUS. Amen. Whereupon I will show you a chamber
    and a bed; which bed, because it shall not speak of your
    pretty encounters, press it to death. Away!
    And Cupid grant all tongue-tied maidens here,
    Bed, chamber, pander, to provide this gear!
Exeunt

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Pandarus arrives up at Calchas' garden, where Troilus has been pacing around waiting for him to show up so Pandarus can escort him to Cressida's bedroom. Troilus gets chatty when he's nervous, so he compares Pandarus to "Charon." You know, the infamous ferryman who gives passengers a lift across the River Styx. Which, yikes! Why is Troilus comparing his trip to Cressida's bedroom to a mythological journey to the underworld? Could this be a wee bit of foreshadowing? Pandarus runs off to get Cressida. While Troilus waits, he tells us he's so excited about finally hooking up with Cressida that he's salivating just thinking about what it's going to be like to finally "taste" her sweet "nectar." But then he gets nervous again and says he's afraid something terrible is going to happen. Yeah, we're getting a bed feeling.Hey! Pandarus finally shows up with Cressida. Cue awkward flirting, complete with blushing, sighing, stammering, and promise making. Plus, it must be hard to get all romantic with your uncle hovering over you cracking dirty jokes--which Pandarus is totally doing. Cressida says she loves Troilus, but she seems hesitant. Troilus promises to be so faithful to her that future love poets will write all about his devotion and use the phrase "as true as Troilus." Not to be outdone, Cressida swears that if she ever cheats on Troilus, she hopes people will say that all promiscuous women are "as false as Cressid." Then Pandarus jumps in and says something like, "Listen kids, if things don't work out between you two, let all the future go-betweens in the world be called "Pandars." Troilus, Cressida, and Pandarus say "Amen." Pandarus has had enough of all this romantic talk, so he sends Troilus and Cressida off to a room with a "bed."