prompt:
Chapter: ACT V. SCENE 3.
Troy. Before PRIAM'S palace

Enter HECTOR and ANDROMACHE

  ANDROMACHE. When was my lord so much ungently temper'd
    To stop his ears against admonishment?
    Unarm, unarm, and do not fight to-day.
  HECTOR. You train me to offend you; get you in.
    By all the everlasting gods, I'll go.
  ANDROMACHE. My dreams will, sure, prove ominous to the day.
  HECTOR. No more, I say.

                    Enter CASSANDRA

  CASSANDRA. Where is my brother Hector?
  ANDROMACHE. Here, sister, arm'd, and bloody in intent.
    Consort with me in loud and dear petition,
    Pursue we him on knees; for I have dreamt
    Of bloody turbulence, and this whole night
    Hath nothing been but shapes and forms of slaughter.
  CASSANDRA. O, 'tis true!
  HECTOR. Ho! bid my trumpet sound.
  CASSANDRA. No notes of sally, for the heavens, sweet brother!
  HECTOR. Be gone, I say. The gods have heard me swear.
  CASSANDRA. The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows;
    They are polluted off'rings, more abhorr'd
    Than spotted livers in the sacrifice.
  ANDROMACHE. O, be persuaded! Do not count it holy
    To hurt by being just. It is as lawful,
    For we would give much, to use violent thefts
    And rob in the behalf of charity.
  CASSANDRA. It is the purpose that makes strong the vow;
    But vows to every purpose must not hold.
    Unarm, sweet Hector.
  HECTOR. Hold you still, I say.
    Mine honour keeps the weather of my fate.
    Life every man holds dear; but the dear man
    Holds honour far more precious dear than life.

                      Enter TROILUS

    How now, young man! Mean'st thou to fight to-day?
  ANDROMACHE. Cassandra, call my father to persuade.
                                 Exit CASSANDRA
  HECTOR. No, faith, young Troilus; doff thy harness, youth;
    I am to-day i' th' vein of chivalry.
    Let grow thy sinews till their knots be strong,
    And tempt not yet the brushes of the war.
    Unarm thee, go; and doubt thou not, brave boy,
    I'll stand to-day for thee and me and Troy.
  TROILUS. Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you
    Which better fits a lion than a man.
  HECTOR. What vice is that, good Troilus?
    Chide me for it.
  TROILUS. When many times the captive Grecian falls,
    Even in the fan and wind of your fair sword,
    You bid them rise and live.
  HECTOR. O, 'tis fair play!
  TROILUS. Fool's play, by heaven, Hector.
  HECTOR. How now! how now!
  TROILUS. For th' love of all the gods,
    Let's leave the hermit Pity with our mother;
    And when we have our armours buckled on,
    The venom'd vengeance ride upon our swords,
    Spur them to ruthful work, rein them from ruth!
  HECTOR. Fie, savage, fie!
  TROILUS. Hector, then 'tis wars.
  HECTOR. Troilus, I would not have you fight to-day.
  TROILUS. Who should withhold me?
    Not fate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars
    Beck'ning with fiery truncheon my retire;
    Not Priamus and Hecuba on knees,
    Their eyes o'ergalled with recourse of tears;
    Nor you, my brother, with your true sword drawn,
    Oppos'd to hinder me, should stop my way,
    But by my ruin.

              Re-enter CASSANDRA, with PRIAM

  CASSANDRA. Lay hold upon him, Priam, hold him fast;
    He is thy crutch; now if thou lose thy stay,
    Thou on him leaning, and all Troy on thee,
    Fall all together.
  PRIAM. Come, Hector, come, go back.
    Thy wife hath dreamt; thy mother hath had visions;
    Cassandra doth foresee; and I myself
    Am like a prophet suddenly enrapt
    To tell thee that this day is ominous.
    Therefore, come back.
  HECTOR. Aeneas is a-field;
    And I do stand engag'd to many Greeks,
    Even in the faith of valour, to appear
    This morning to them.
  PRIAM. Ay, but thou shalt not go.
  HECTOR. I must not break my faith.
    You know me dutiful; therefore, dear sir,
    Let me not shame respect; but give me leave
    To take that course by your consent and voice
    Which you do here forbid me, royal Priam.
  CASSANDRA. O Priam, yield not to him!
  ANDROMACHE. Do not, dear father.
  HECTOR. Andromache, I am offended with you.
    Upon the love you bear me, get you in.
                                     Exit ANDROMACHE
  TROILUS. This foolish, dreaming, superstitious girl
    Makes all these bodements.
  CASSANDRA. O, farewell, dear Hector!
    Look how thou diest. Look how thy eye turns pale.
    Look how thy wounds do bleed at many vents.
    Hark how Troy roars; how Hecuba cries out;
    How poor Andromache shrills her dolours forth;
    Behold distraction, frenzy, and amazement,
    Like witless antics, one another meet,
    And all cry, Hector! Hector's dead! O Hector!
  TROILUS. Away, away!
  CASSANDRA. Farewell!-yet, soft! Hector, I take my leave.
    Thou dost thyself and all our Troy deceive.
Exit
  HECTOR. You are amaz'd, my liege, at her exclaim.
    Go in, and cheer the town; we'll forth, and fight,
    Do deeds worth praise and tell you them at night.
  PRIAM. Farewell. The gods with safety stand about thee!
                           Exeunt severally PRIAM and HECTOR.
Alarums
  TROILUS. They are at it, hark! Proud Diomed, believe,
    I come to lose my arm or win my sleeve.

                     Enter PANDARUS

  PANDARUS. Do you hear, my lord? Do you hear?
  TROILUS. What now?
  PANDARUS. Here's a letter come from yond poor girl.
  TROILUS. Let me read.
  PANDARUS. A whoreson tisick, a whoreson rascally tisick so troubles
    me, and the foolish fortune of this girl, and what one thing,
    what another, that I shall leave you one o' th's days; and I have
    a rheum in mine eyes too, and such an ache in my bones that
    unless a man were curs'd I cannot tell what to think on't. What
    says she there?
  TROILUS. Words, words, mere words, no matter from the heart;
    Th' effect doth operate another way.
                                      [Tearing the letter]
    Go, wind, to wind, there turn and change together.
    My love with words and errors still she feeds,
    But edifies another with her deeds.   Exeunt severally

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

completion: Enter Hector and Andromache. Andromache attempts to persuade Hector not to go into battle that day. Hector refuses to listen to her. Andromache says she has had an ominous dream that she is sure will come true that day. Still Hector refuses to listen to his wife Cassandra enters. Andromache enlists her support to persuade Hector not to go to battle. She tells her of her dream: I have dreamt/Of bloody turbulence, and this whole night/Hath nothing been but shapes and forms of slaughter. Cassandra the prophetess says Andromache says the truth, and both of them attempt to persuade Hector to unarm and not go into battle. Hector refuses to listen to them. Mine honor keeps the weather of my fate:/Life every man holds dear, but the dear man/Holds honor far more precious-dear than life. he says. He hails Troilus who has just entered and asks him if he intended to go into battle. Andromache sends Cassandra to call Priam to persuade Hector. Hector tells Troilus to off thy harness and let his sinews grow stronger before he attempted a brush with the War. He tells him to disarm himself and that he, Hector will stand for himself, Troilus and Troy. Troilus replies that Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you, /Which better fits a lion than a man. Hector wonders what vice that is and asks Troilus to chide him for it. Troilus says that many times when Greeks find themselves at the wrong end of Hectors sword, he allowed them to live. Hector says that he is only indulging in fair play. Troilus replies that it is Fools play. He prays that they leave the hermit pity with our mother;/And when we have our armors buckled on/The venomd vengeance ride upon our swords, /Spur them to ruthful work, rein them from ruth! He means that when they are at War they must spur their swords to do piteous and rueful work and stop them from showing compassion. Hector thinks Troilus idea is savage. Troilus says that that is the way of wars. He wishes to fight for himself since he seeks vengeance and not the exercise of mercy. Hector says that he wont let him fight on that day. Troilus says nobody can stop him.- Not fate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars. Not Priamus and Hecuba on knees even if their eyes are sore with crying, Nor you, my brother, with your true sword drawn/Opposd to hinder me, should stop my way, /But by my ruin. Priam and Cassandra enter. Cassandra tells Priam to catch hold of Hector and hold him fast as He is thy crutch. Now if thou lose thy stay/Thou on him leaning, and all Troy on thee, /Fall all together. If Hector is allowed to go into battle, Cassandra says, the fall of Troy will inevitably follow. Priam attempts to dissuade Hector - he tells him that Andromache has dreamt, his mother has had visions, Cassandra has foreseen, and he himself like a prophet believed the day was ominous. He implores him, therefore, not to go into battle.


prompt:
Chapter: ACT V. SCENE 4.
The plain between Troy and the Grecian camp

Enter THERSITES. Excursions

  THERSITES. Now they are clapper-clawing one another; I'll go look
    on. That dissembling abominable varlet, Diomed, has got that same
    scurvy doting foolish young knave's sleeve of Troy there in his
    helm. I would fain see them meet, that that same young Troyan ass
    that loves the whore there might send that Greekish whoremasterly
    villain with the sleeve back to the dissembling luxurious drab of
    a sleeve-less errand. A th' t'other side, the policy of those
    crafty swearing rascals-that stale old mouse-eaten dry cheese,
    Nestor, and that same dog-fox, Ulysses -is not prov'd worth a
    blackberry. They set me up, in policy, that mongrel cur, Ajax,
    against that dog of as bad a kind, Achilles; and now is the cur,
    Ajax prouder than the cur Achilles, and will not arm to-day;
    whereupon the Grecians begin to proclaim barbarism, and policy
    grows into an ill opinion.

             Enter DIOMEDES, TROILUS following

    Soft! here comes sleeve, and t'other.
  TROILUS. Fly not; for shouldst thou take the river Styx
    I would swim after.
  DIOMEDES. Thou dost miscall retire.
    I do not fly; but advantageous care
    Withdrew me from the odds of multitude.
    Have at thee.
  THERSITES. Hold thy whore, Grecian; now for thy whore,
    Troyan-now the sleeve, now the sleeve!
                   Exeunt TROILUS and DIOMEDES fighting

                        Enter HECTOR

  HECTOR. What art thou, Greek? Art thou for Hector's match?
    Art thou of blood and honour?
  THERSITES. No, no-I am a rascal; a scurvy railing knave; a very
    filthy rogue.
  HECTOR. I do believe thee. Live.
Exit
  THERSITES. God-a-mercy, that thou wilt believe me; but a plague
    break thy neck for frighting me! What's become of the wenching
    rogues? I think they have swallowed one another. I would laugh at
    that miracle. Yet, in a sort, lechery eats itself. I'll seek
    them.
Exit

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

completion: Thersites enters. He comments that the warriors are now giving each other a drubbing. He says he will look on, and notes that Diomedes is wearing Troilus sleeve in his helm. He is eager to see them meet so that the same young Trojan ass, that loves the whore there might send Diomedes back to the dissembling luxurious drab of a sleeveless errand. He then goes on to the scheming of the stale old mouse-eaten dry cheese Nestor and that same dog-fox Ulysses which has proved quite useless. They set up Ajax that mongrel cur against the equally bad Achilles, and now Ajax who has grown prouder than Achilles will not arm for battle that day. And so the rest of the Greeks too set up the authority of ignorance to declare that formal government would not govern them any longer. Diomedes enters with Troilus following. Soft: here comes sleeve, and tother. says Thersites. Troilus tells Diomedes not to fly ahead, as even if he entered the Styx, the river of death, he, Troilus would swim after him. Diomedes replies that Troilus has mistaken tactical withdrawal for flight. Thersites who is beside himself with excitement shouts, Hold thy whore, Grecian! Now for thy whore, Trojan! Now the sleeve, now the sleeve as Diomedes and Troilus exit fighting. Hector enters and chances upon Thersites. He asks him if he is a match for Hector: Art thou of blood and honor? No, no: I am a rascal, a scurvy railing knave: a very filthy rogue. says Thersites who is then spared by Hector. Thersites thanks Hector who has exited for believing him, but wishes a plague on him for frightening him.. He then wonders what has become of Diomedes and Troilus. He thinks they have swallowed one another and says that he would laugh at that yet in sort lechery eats itself. He decides to go looking for them and exits.


prompt:
Chapter: ACT V. SCENE 5.
Another part of the plain

Enter DIOMEDES and A SERVANT

  DIOMEDES. Go, go, my servant, take thou Troilus' horse;
    Present the fair steed to my lady Cressid.
    Fellow, commend my service to her beauty;
    Tell her I have chastis'd the amorous Troyan,
    And am her knight by proof.
  SERVANT. I go, my lord.
Exit

                       Enter AGAMEMNON

  AGAMEMNON. Renew, renew! The fierce Polydamus
    Hath beat down enon; bastard Margarelon
    Hath Doreus prisoner,
    And stands colossus-wise, waving his beam,
    Upon the pashed corses of the kings
    Epistrophus and Cedius. Polixenes is slain;
    Amphimacus and Thoas deadly hurt;
    Patroclus ta'en, or slain; and Palamedes
    Sore hurt and bruis'd. The dreadful Sagittary
    Appals our numbers. Haste we, Diomed,
    To reinforcement, or we perish all.

                        Enter NESTOR

  NESTOR. Go, bear Patroclus' body to Achilles,
    And bid the snail-pac'd Ajax arm for shame.
    There is a thousand Hectors in the field;
    Now here he fights on Galathe his horse,
    And there lacks work; anon he's there afoot,
    And there they fly or die, like scaled sculls
    Before the belching whale; then is he yonder,
    And there the strawy Greeks, ripe for his edge,
    Fall down before him like the mower's swath.
    Here, there, and everywhere, he leaves and takes;
    Dexterity so obeying appetite
    That what he will he does, and does so much
    That proof is call'd impossibility.

                       Enter ULYSSES

  ULYSSES. O, courage, courage, courage, Princes! Great
    Achilles Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengeance.
    Patroclus' wounds have rous'd his drowsy blood,
    Together with his mangled Myrmidons,
    That noseless, handless, hack'd and chipp'd, come to
    him, Crying on Hector. Ajax hath lost a friend
    And foams at mouth, and he is arm'd and at it,
    Roaring for Troilus; who hath done to-day
    Mad and fantastic execution,
    Engaging and redeeming of himself
    With such a careless force and forceless care
    As if that luck, in very spite of cunning,
    Bade him win all.

                        Enter AJAX

  AJAX. Troilus! thou coward Troilus!
Exit
  DIOMEDES. Ay, there, there.
  NESTOR. So, so, we draw together.
Exit
                      Enter ACHILLES

  ACHILLES. Where is this Hector?
    Come, come, thou boy-queller, show thy face;
    Know what it is to meet Achilles angry.
    Hector! where's Hector? I will none but Hector.
Exeunt

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

completion: Diomedes and his servant enter. Diomedes tells his servant to take Troilus horse, present it to Cressida, and to tell her that he is now her knight by proof. Diomedes tone is meant to be chivalric. The servant agrees to do as he is bid and exits. Agamemnon enters. He calls on the Greeks to fight and to attack once more. He says Polydamas, a bastard son of Priam has beaten down Menon; the bastard son of Priam, Margarelon has taken Doreus prisoner and now stands like the colossus waving his spear upon the battered corpses of Epistrophus and Cedius. Polixenes is slain; Amphimacus and Thoas have been badly hurt; Patroclus has been taken prisoner or has been killed; and Palamedes has been badly hurt and bruised. The dreadful Sagittary is wasting the Greek numbers. He tells Diomedes to make haste with reinforcements or else they will all perish. Nestor enters with soldiers. Nestor tells them to bear Patroclus body to Achilles and to bid the snail-pacd Ajax to arm. There is a thousand Hectors in the field he says and draws a picture of the warrior on his horse Galathe, wreaking destruction on the battlefield. Hector is compared to a belching whale devouring schools of fish and to a War machine cutting down Greeks ripe for his edge, Fall down before him like a mowers swath.. They fall like grass before the sweep of the scythe. Here, there and everywhere he kills or spears at inclination That what he will he does, and does so much/That proof is calld impossibility. Ulysses enters. He tells the Greeks to take courage. He brings news that Achilles who is cursing and vowing vengeance is arming himself. Patroclus wounds have roused him into action - that and the state of his mangled Myrmidons. That noseless, handless, hackd and chippd, / come to him, /Crying on Hector. Ajax who has lost a friend and foams at mouth has also finally armed himself for battle and is roaring for Troilus who has wreaked Mad and fantastic execution. Ajax enters screaming for Troilus and then exits. Diomedes too goes after him for Troilus and exits. Nestor then comments that the Greeks are now in some measure co-operating even though their motive is merely personal revenge and not obedience to command. Achilles enters. He calls for Hector and calls him a boy-queller, a murderer of boys, and howls for him to show his face and know what it is like to meet an angry Achilles. He says he will have none but Hector and exits looking for him.


prompt:
Chapter: ACT V. SCENE 6.
Another part of the plain

Enter AJAX

  AJAX. Troilus, thou coward Troilus, show thy head.

                     Enter DIOMEDES

  DIOMEDES. Troilus, I say! Where's Troilus?
  AJAX. What wouldst thou?
  DIOMEDES. I would correct him.
  AJAX. Were I the general, thou shouldst have my office
    Ere that correction. Troilus, I say! What, Troilus!

                      Enter TROILUS

  TROILUS. O traitor Diomed! Turn thy false face, thou traitor,
    And pay thy life thou owest me for my horse.
  DIOMEDES. Ha! art thou there?
  AJAX. I'll fight with him alone. Stand, Diomed.
  DIOMEDES. He is my prize. I will not look upon.
  TROILUS. Come, both, you cogging Greeks; have at you
                                     Exeunt fighting

                      Enter HECTOR

  HECTOR. Yea, Troilus? O, well fought, my youngest brother!

                     Enter ACHILLES

  ACHILLES. Now do I see thee, ha! Have at thee, Hector!
  HECTOR. Pause, if thou wilt.
  ACHILLES. I do disdain thy courtesy, proud Troyan.
    Be happy that my arms are out of use;
    My rest and negligence befriends thee now,
    But thou anon shalt hear of me again;
    Till when, go seek thy fortune.
Exit
  HECTOR. Fare thee well.
    I would have been much more a fresher man,
    Had I expected thee.

                     Re-enter TROILUS

    How now, my brother!
  TROILUS. Ajax hath ta'en Aeneas. Shall it be?
    No, by the flame of yonder glorious heaven,
    He shall not carry him; I'll be ta'en too,
    Or bring him off. Fate, hear me what I say:
    I reck not though thou end my life to-day.
Exit

                    Enter one in armour

  HECTOR. Stand, stand, thou Greek; thou art a goodly mark.
    No? wilt thou not? I like thy armour well;
    I'll frush it and unlock the rivets all
    But I'll be master of it. Wilt thou not, beast, abide?
    Why then, fly on; I'll hunt thee for thy hide.
Exeunt

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

completion: Enter Ajax. Ajax is baying for Troilus. Diomedes enters. He is also looking for Troilus. Ajax asks him why he wants him. Diomedes says that he wishes to chastise him. Ajax says that if he were the general he would give away his office before he let Diomedes do the correction. He then bays for Troilus again. Troilus enters and calls Diomedes a traitor and asks him to pay him the life he owes him for his horse. Ajax tells Diomedes to stand by as he alone will fight with Troilus. Diomedes argues that Troilus is his prize and that he will not be a mere spectator Troilus calls them both cheating, deceitful Greeks, and says that he will fight them both. Troilus exits fighting with Ajax and Diomedes. Hector enters and comments that his youngest brother has fought well. Achilles enters and fights with Hector. After a while Hector with his usual courtesy says that Achilles can Pause, if thou wilt, and lets him go. I do disdain thy courtesy, proud Trojan /Be happy that my arms are out of use:/My rest and negligence befriends thee now/ But thou anon shalt hear of me again; Till when, go seek thy fortune he says and exits. Hector bids him farewell and says that he would have been a much fresher man if he had expected him. Troilus enters. He asks Hector if it is true that Ajax has taken Aeneas. Then he says that by the flame of yonder glorious heaven he would not vanquish Aeneas. He says hed be vanquished too or will rescue Aeneas. Before he exits, he addresses fate and says that he doesnt care if it ends his life on that day. A warrior in sumptuous armor enters. Hector is impressed with his armor and says that he will beat it violently and unlock all its rivets and finally own it. Wilt thou not, beast, abide? he asks as the Greek exits. Ill hunt thee for thy hide or armor he says and exits in pursuit.


prompt:
Chapter: ACT V. SCENE 7.
Another part of the plain

Enter ACHILLES, with Myrmidons

  ACHILLES. Come here about me, you my Myrmidons;
    Mark what I say. Attend me where I wheel;
    Strike not a stroke, but keep yourselves in breath;
    And when I have the bloody Hector found,
    Empale him with your weapons round about;
    In fellest manner execute your arms.
    Follow me, sirs, and my proceedings eye.
    It is decreed Hector the great must die.
Exeunt

      Enter MENELAUS and PARIS, fighting; then THERSITES

  THERSITES. The cuckold and the cuckold-maker are at it. Now, bull!
    now, dog! 'Loo, Paris, 'loo! now my double-horn'd Spartan! 'loo,
    Paris, 'loo! The bull has the game. Ware horns, ho!
                        Exeunt PARIS and MENELAUS

                      Enter MARGARELON

  MARGARELON. Turn, slave, and fight.
  THERSITES. What art thou?
  MARGARELON. A bastard son of Priam's.
  THERSITES. I am a bastard too; I love bastards. I am a bastard
    begot, bastard instructed, bastard in mind, bastard in valour, in
    everything illegitimate. One bear will not bite another, and
    wherefore should one bastard? Take heed, the quarrel's most
    ominous to us: if the son of a whore fight for a whore, he tempts
    judgment. Farewell, bastard.
      Exit
  MARGARELON. The devil take thee, coward!
Exit

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

completion: Enter Achilles with Myrmidons. Achilles tells his Myrmidons to listen to what he has to say. He tells them to follow him when he moved in an arc, not to strike at all but preserve their breath, and when he had found Hector, to surround and close him in with their weapons, and quickly carry out the operation. He tells them to follow him and watch his actions: It is decreed Hector the great must die he says and exits. Menelaus and Paris enter fighting. Then Thersites enters. The cuckold and the cuckold-maker are at it says Thersites, as crude as ever. He sees the combat as a bull baiting and shouts encouragement. Paris and Menelaus exit Margarelon enters and commands Thersites to fight. Thersites asks him who he is and Margarelon introduces himself as A bastard son of Priams. With a stroke of comic genius, Thersites manages to connect their status as bastards to forge a kinship bond between them, and so escapes eminent death. The non-plused Margarelon can only say, The devil take thee, coward.


prompt:
Chapter: ACT V. SCENE 8.
Another part of the plain

Enter HECTOR

  HECTOR. Most putrified core so fair without,
    Thy goodly armour thus hath cost thy life.
    Now is my day's work done; I'll take good breath:
    Rest, sword; thou hast thy fill of blood and death!
 [Disarms]

              Enter ACHILLES and his Myrmidons

  ACHILLES. Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set;
    How ugly night comes breathing at his heels;
    Even with the vail and dark'ning of the sun,
    To close the day up, Hector's life is done.
  HECTOR. I am unarm'd; forego this vantage, Greek.
  ACHILLES. Strike, fellows, strike; this is the man I seek.
                                        [HECTOR falls]
    So, Ilion, fall thou next! Come, Troy, sink down;
    Here lies thy heart, thy sinews, and thy bone.
    On, Myrmidons, and cry you an amain
    'Achilles hath the mighty Hector slain.'
                                 [A retreat sounded]
    Hark! a retire upon our Grecian part.
  MYRMIDON. The Troyan trumpets sound the like, my lord.
  ACHILLES. The dragon wing of night o'erspreads the earth
    And, stickler-like, the armies separates.
    My half-supp'd sword, that frankly would have fed,
    Pleas'd with this dainty bait, thus goes to bed.
                                    [Sheathes his sword]
    Come, tie his body to my horse's tail;
    Along the field I will the Troyan trail.
Exeunt

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

completion: Hector enters. He has just killed the finely armored warrior and has found a diseased body inside. Thy goodly armor thus hath cost thy life. he says. Then considering his days work done, Hector decides to relax and setting his sword which hast thy fill of blood and death aside, he disarms. Enter Achilles and the Myrmidons. Achilles tells Hector to look at how the sun was setting and how night comes breathing at his heels. He continues that as the sun sets at the close of day, Hectors life too is done. Hector tells Achilles that he is unarmed and that he should spare him, forego this vantage. But Achilles is not the gentleman that Hector is, and he commands his Myrmidons to Strike, fellows strike: this is the man I seek and Hector falls. Achilles knows that the death of Hector is synonymous with the destruction of Troy and says as much when he refers to Hector in Here lies thy heart, thy sinews, and thy bone. He then exhorts his Myrmidons to shout out: Achilles hath the mighty Hector slain. A retreat is sounded and Achilles notes that the Greeks are retiring from battle. The Myrmidons note that the Trojan trumpets too were sounding the end of the days battle. Sounding very lyrical for such a murderer. Achilles says that as night falls the armies separate as though they have been commanded to do so by a fair umpire, and his sword though it has not yet had its fill, he is content to be pleased with its light meal, and is now sheathed. He tells the Myrmidons to tie Hectors body to the tail of his horse so that he can trail him along the battlefield. They exit as another retreat is sounded.


prompt:
Chapter: ACT V. SCENE 9.
Another part of the plain

Sound retreat. Shout. Enter AGAMEMNON, AJAX, MENELAUS, NESTOR,
DIOMEDES, and the rest, marching

  AGAMEMNON. Hark! hark! what shout is this?
  NESTOR. Peace, drums!
  SOLDIERS. [Within] Achilles! Achilles! Hector's slain. Achilles!
  DIOMEDES. The bruit is Hector's slain, and by Achilles.
  AJAX. If it be so, yet bragless let it be;
    Great Hector was as good a man as he.
  AGAMEMNON. March patiently along. Let one be sent
    To pray Achilles see us at our tent.
    If in his death the gods have us befriended;
    Great Troy is ours, and our sharp wars are ended.
    Exeunt

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

completion: Enter Agamemnon, Ajax, Menelaus, Nestor, Diomedes and the Rest. Marching, shouts. Agamemnon wonders what the shouts are about Nestor silences the drummers. Soldiers set up the chant that Achilles has killed Hector. Diomedes says, rumor has it that Achilles has killed Hector. Ajax says if that is really true, let it be without vain boasting as Hector was as great a man as Achilles. Agamemnon asks the others to march along quietly. He asks that someone be sent to call Achilles to his tent. He says that if Hector has indeed died and in his death the gods are with the Greeks, Troy is theirs and our sharp wars are ended. They exit.


prompt:
Chapter: ACT V. SCENE 10.
Another part of the plain

Enter AENEAS, PARIS, ANTENOR, and DEIPHOBUS

  AENEAS. Stand, ho! yet are we masters of the field.
    Never go home; here starve we out the night.

                         Enter TROILUS

  TROILUS. Hector is slain.
  ALL. Hector! The gods forbid!
  TROILUS. He's dead, and at the murderer's horse's tail,
    In beastly sort, dragg'd through the shameful field.
    Frown on, you heavens, effect your rage with speed.
    Sit, gods, upon your thrones, and smile at Troy.
    I say at once let your brief plagues be mercy,
    And linger not our sure destructions on.
  AENEAS. My lord, you do discomfort all the host.
  TROILUS. You understand me not that tell me so.
    I do not speak of flight, of fear of death,
    But dare all imminence that gods and men
    Address their dangers in. Hector is gone.
    Who shall tell Priam so, or Hecuba?
    Let him that will a screech-owl aye be call'd
    Go in to Troy, and say there 'Hector's dead.'
    There is a word will Priam turn to stone;
    Make wells and Niobes of the maids and wives,
    Cold statues of the youth; and, in a word,
    Scare Troy out of itself. But, march away;
    Hector is dead; there is no more to say.
    Stay yet. You vile abominable tents,
    Thus proudly pight upon our Phrygian plains,
    Let Titan rise as early as he dare,
    I'll through and through you. And, thou great-siz'd coward,
    No space of earth shall sunder our two hates;
    I'll haunt thee like a wicked conscience still,
    That mouldeth goblins swift as frenzy's thoughts.
    Strike a free march to Troy. With comfort go;
    Hope of revenge shall hide our inward woe.

                        Enter PANDARUS

  PANDARUS. But hear you, hear you!
  TROILUS. Hence, broker-lackey. Ignominy and shame
    Pursue thy life and live aye with thy name!
                               Exeunt all but PANDARUS
  PANDARUS. A goodly medicine for my aching bones! world! world! thus
    is the poor agent despis'd! traitors and bawds, how earnestly are
    you set a work, and how ill requited! Why should our endeavour be
    so lov'd, and the performance so loathed? What verse for it? What
    instance for it? Let me see-

          Full merrily the humble-bee doth sing
          Till he hath lost his honey and his sting;
          And being once subdu'd in armed trail,
          Sweet honey and sweet notes together fail.

    Good traders in the flesh, set this in your painted
    cloths. As many as be here of pander's hall,
    Your eyes, half out, weep out at Pandar's fall;
    Or, if you cannot weep, yet give some groans,
    Though not for me, yet for your aching bones.
    Brethren and sisters of the hold-door trade,
    Some two months hence my will shall here be made.
    It should be now, but that my fear is this,
    Some galled goose of Winchester would hiss.
    Till then I'll sweat and seek about for eases,
    And at that time bequeath you my diseases.
Exit

THE END

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

completion: Aeneas, Paris, Antenor and Deiphobus enter. Aeneas says that they must never go home and here starve we out the night on the battlefield. Troilus enters and announces that Hector has been killed. Everybody is aghast. Troilus reiterates that Hector is dead and adds that his body had been dragged through the battlefield. He calls Achilles a murderer and expresses his disgust at his brutality. He calls on heaven to do what is to be done and tells the gods, upon your thrones not to protract their inevitable destruction. Aeneas says that his words are discouraging the whole party. Troilus says that Aeneas doesnt understand him.. He says the he does not speak of fleeing, of fear or of death, but dares all the impending dangers that gods and men prepare for. Hector is gone. Who will tell that to Priam or Hecuba, he wonders. He says that let anyone, who doesnt mind being dubbed a screech owl, go into Troy and say Hector is dead. That will turn Priam to stone, turn the maids and wives into weeping figures of stone like Niobe and scare Troy. But march away, says Troilus who announces again that Hector is dead, and that there is nothing more to say. Addressing the Greek tents, he tells them to stay pitched a while longer on the Phrygian plains - let the sun rise as early as he dared, and he, Troilus would go through and through them. And then in a remark directed at Achilles, the great-sizd coward, he vows that No space of earth shall sunder our two hates /Ill haunt thee like a wicked conscience still, /That mouldeth goblins swift as frenzys thoughts. Vowing to avenge Hectors death, he calls for a brisk march back to the city. Hope of revenge shall hide our inward woe, he says as the Trojan party exits leaving him behind. Pandarus enters, who attempts to catch Troilus attention. Troilus tells him to get away from him, and contemptuously calls him broker-lackey and hopes ignominy and shame pursues him and becomes synonymous with his name. He exits. Pandarus whose body has by now been overrun with a host of venereal diseases comments that this is a good medicine for his aching bones. He comments: Thus is the poor agent despised. He wonders why the endeavors of the likes of him are so loved and the performance so loathed. He argues that the employer of the Pandar comes to detest the agent who procured for him, and that the rejected Pander once so desirable, becomes impotent. He then breaks into a proverbial or traditional saying or rhyme to support his argument. The rhyme says the happiness of the Pandar is lost when he is no longer effective. He tells Good traders in the flesh to set this lesson in their painted wall hangings. Then addressing the guild of Pandarus, he says that their eyes affected by venereal disease should weep at his fall, and if they cannot weep to groan - not for him but for their own aching bones. Continuing his address to bawds and pandars, he says his will be made in a few months time. Pandarus adds that he would have made his will sooner but he fears that some infected prostitute from the Southwark stews who is offended by him would hiss. So until then, he will sit in a sweating tub and wish his diseases upon them.


prompt:
Chapter: Actus Primus, Scaena Prima.

Enter King Richard, Iohn of Gaunt, with other Nobles and
Attendants.

  King Richard. Old Iohn of Gaunt, time-honoured Lancaster,
Hast thou according to thy oath and band
Brought hither Henry Herford thy bold son:
Heere to make good y boistrous late appeale,
Which then our leysure would not let vs heare,
Against the Duke of Norfolke, Thomas Mowbray?
  Gaunt. I haue my Liege

   King. Tell me moreouer, hast thou sounded him,
If he appeale the Duke on ancient malice,
Or worthily as a good subiect should
On some knowne ground of treacherie in him

   Gaunt. As neere as I could sift him on that argument,
On some apparant danger seene in him,
Aym'd at your Highnesse, no inueterate malice

   Kin. Then call them to our presence face to face,
And frowning brow to brow, our selues will heare
Th' accuser, and the accused, freely speake;
High stomack'd are they both, and full of ire,
In rage, deafe as the sea; hastie as fire.
Enter Bullingbrooke and Mowbray.

  Bul. Many yeares of happy dayes befall
My gracious Soueraigne, my most louing Liege

   Mow. Each day still better others happinesse,
Vntill the heauens enuying earths good hap,
Adde an immortall title to your Crowne

   King. We thanke you both, yet one but flatters vs,
As well appeareth by the cause you come,
Namely, to appeale each other of high treason.
Coosin of Hereford, what dost thou obiect
Against the Duke of Norfolke, Thomas Mowbray?
  Bul. First, heauen be the record to my speech,
In the deuotion of a subiects loue,
Tendering the precious safetie of my Prince,
And free from other misbegotten hate,
Come I appealant to this Princely presence.
Now Thomas Mowbray do I turne to thee,
And marke my greeting well: for what I speake,
My body shall make good vpon this earth,
Or my diuine soule answer it in heauen.
Thou art a Traitor, and a Miscreant;
Too good to be so, and too bad to liue,
Since the more faire and christall is the skie,
The vglier seeme the cloudes that in it flye:
Once more, the more to aggrauate the note,
With a foule Traitors name stuffe I thy throte,
And wish (so please my Soueraigne) ere I moue,
What my tong speaks, my right drawn sword may proue
  Mow. Let not my cold words heere accuse my zeale:
'Tis not the triall of a Womans warre,
The bitter clamour of two eager tongues,
Can arbitrate this cause betwixt vs twaine:
The blood is hot that must be cool'd for this.
Yet can I not of such tame patience boast,
As to be husht, and nought at all to say.
First the faire reuerence of your Highnesse curbes mee,
From giuing reines and spurres to my free speech,
Which else would post, vntill it had return'd
These tearmes of treason, doubly downe his throat.
Setting aside his high bloods royalty,
And let him be no Kinsman to my Liege,
I do defie him, and I spit at him,
Call him a slanderous Coward, and a Villaine:
Which to maintaine, I would allow him oddes,
And meete him, were I tide to runne afoote,
Euen to the frozen ridges of the Alpes,
Or any other ground inhabitable,
Where euer Englishman durst set his foote.
Meane time, let this defend my loyaltie,
By all my hopes most falsely doth he lie

   Bul. Pale trembling Coward, there I throw my gage,
Disclaiming heere the kindred of a King,
And lay aside my high bloods Royalty,
Which feare, not reuerence makes thee to except.
If guilty dread hath left thee so much strength,
As to take vp mine Honors pawne, then stoope.
By that, and all the rites of Knight-hood else,
Will I make good against thee arme to arme,
What I haue spoken, or thou canst deuise

   Mow. I take it vp, and by that sword I sweare,
Which gently laid my Knight-hood on my shoulder,
Ile answer thee in any faire degree,
Or Chiualrous designe of knightly triall:
And when I mount, aliue may I not light,
If I be Traitor, or vniustly fight

   King. What doth our Cosin lay to Mowbraies charge?
It must be great that can inherite vs,
So much as of a thought of ill in him

   Bul. Looke what I said, my life shall proue it true,
That Mowbray hath receiu'd eight thousand Nobles,
In name of lendings for your Highnesse Soldiers,
The which he hath detain'd for lewd employments,
Like a false Traitor, and iniurious Villaine.
Besides I say, and will in battaile proue,
Or heere, or elsewhere to the furthest Verge
That euer was suruey'd by English eye,
That all the Treasons for these eighteene yeeres
Complotted, and contriued in this Land,
Fetch'd from false Mowbray their first head and spring.
Further I say, and further will maintaine
Vpon his bad life, to make all this good.
That he did plot the Duke of Glousters death,
Suggest his soone beleeuing aduersaries,
And consequently, like a Traitor Coward,
Sluc'd out his innocent soule through streames of blood:
Which blood, like sacrificing Abels cries,
(Euen from the toonglesse cauernes of the earth)
To me for iustice, and rough chasticement:
And by the glorious worth of my discent,
This arme shall do it, or this life be spent

   King. How high a pitch his resolution soares:
Thomas of Norfolke, what sayest thou to this?
  Mow. Oh let my Soueraigne turne away his face,
And bid his eares a little while be deafe,
Till I haue told this slander of his blood,
How God, and good men, hate so foule a lyar

   King. Mowbray, impartiall are our eyes and eares,
Were he my brother, nay our kingdomes heyre,
As he is but my fathers brothers sonne;
Now by my Scepters awe, I make a vow,
Such neighbour-neerenesse to our sacred blood,
Should nothing priuiledge him, nor partialize
The vn-stooping firmenesse of my vpright soule.
He is our subiect (Mowbray) so art thou,
Free speech, and fearelesse, I to thee allow

   Mow. Then Bullingbrooke, as low as to thy heart,
Through the false passage of thy throat; thou lyest:
Three parts of that receipt I had for Callice,
Disburst I to his Highnesse souldiers;
The other part reseru'd I by consent,
For that my Soueraigne Liege was in my debt,
Vpon remainder of a deere Accompt,
Since last I went to France to fetch his Queene:
Now swallow downe that Lye. For Glousters death,
I slew him not; but (to mine owne disgrace)
Neglected my sworne duty in that case:
For you my noble Lord of Lancaster,
The honourable Father to my foe,
Once I did lay an ambush for your life,
A trespasse that doth vex my greeued soule:
But ere I last receiu'd the Sacrament,
I did confesse it, and exactly begg'd
Your Graces pardon, and I hope I had it.
This is my fault: as for the rest appeal'd,
It issues from the rancour of a Villaine,
A recreant, and most degenerate Traitor,
Which in my selfe I boldly will defend,
And interchangeably hurle downe my gage
Vpon this ouer-weening Traitors foote,
To proue my selfe a loyall Gentleman,
Euen in the best blood chamber'd in his bosome.
In hast whereof, most heartily I pray
Your Highnesse to assigne our Triall day

   King. Wrath-kindled Gentlemen be rul'd by me:
Let's purge this choller without letting blood:
This we prescribe, though no Physition,
Deepe malice makes too deepe incision.
Forget, forgiue, conclude, and be agreed,
Our Doctors say, This is no time to bleed.
Good Vnckle, let this end where it begun,
Wee'l calme the Duke of Norfolke; you, your son

   Gaunt. To be a make-peace shall become my age,
Throw downe (my sonne) the Duke of Norfolkes gage

   King. And Norfolke, throw downe his

   Gaunt. When Harrie when? Obedience bids,
Obedience bids I should not bid agen

   King. Norfolke, throw downe, we bidde; there is
no boote

   Mow. My selfe I throw (dread Soueraigne) at thy foot.
My life thou shalt command, but not my shame,
The one my dutie owes, but my faire name
Despight of death, that liues vpon my graue
To darke dishonours vse, thou shalt not haue.
I am disgrac'd, impeach'd, and baffel'd heere,
Pierc'd to the soule with slanders venom'd speare:
The which no balme can cure, but his heart blood
Which breath'd this poyson

   King. Rage must be withstood:
Giue me his gage: Lyons make Leopards tame

   Mo. Yea, but not change his spots: take but my shame,
And I resigne my gage. My deere, deere Lord,
The purest treasure mortall times afford
Is spotlesse reputation: that away,
Men are but gilded loame, or painted clay.
A Iewell in a ten times barr'd vp Chest,
Is a bold spirit, in a loyall brest.
Mine Honor is my life; both grow in one:
Take Honor from me, and my life is done.
Then (deere my Liege) mine Honor let me trie,
In that I liue; and for that will I die

   King. Coosin, throw downe your gage,
Do you begin

   Bul. Oh heauen defend my soule from such foule sin.
Shall I seeme Crest-falne in my fathers sight,
Or with pale beggar-feare impeach my hight
Before this out-dar'd dastard? Ere my toong,
Shall wound mine honor with such feeble wrong;
Or sound so base a parle: my teeth shall teare
The slauish motiue of recanting feare,
And spit it bleeding in his high disgrace,
Where shame doth harbour, euen in Mowbrayes face.

Exit Gaunt.

  King. We were not borne to sue, but to command,
Which since we cannot do to make you friends,
Be readie, (as your liues shall answer it)
At Couentree, vpon S[aint]. Lamberts day:
There shall your swords and Lances arbitrate
The swelling difference of your setled hate:
Since we cannot attone you, you shall see
Iustice designe the Victors Chiualrie.
Lord Marshall, command our Officers at Armes,
Be readie to direct these home Alarmes.

Exeunt.

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

completion: Richard II is majestically seated on his throne preparing to judge two noblemen accusing each other of treason. Richard orders both men to be brought before the throne. They enter and immediately hurl accusations at each other, in the process getting so mad that each man throws down his gage , which is a challenge to a duel. Richard tries to reestablish order by asking Bolingbroke to tell him the exact charges of treason. Bolingbroke accuses Mowbray of stealing money which was designated for army purposes. He further accuses Mowbray of killing the Duke of Gloucester, or Thomas of Woodstock, one of Richard's uncles whom Mowbray was ordered to guard. Mowbray defends himself, telling Richard that the money was his because it paid off a loan he had previously made to the king. He admits that he failed to protect Gloucester, and is ambiguous about how it happened. However, most detrimental of all, Mowbray admits to having once plotted against Richard, but claims to regret it. Richard orders the two men to obey his command, and asks them to forgive and forget the entire episode. John of Gaunt pleads with Bolingbroke to give up the challenge to a duel, and Richard tries to make Mowbray listen to him, but in vain. Both men remain resolute, and Mowbray finally bows down and indicates he cannot avoid the fight since his honor is at stake. Richard is unable to control the two men, and finally is forced to allow them a chivalric duel in the ancient medieval manner


prompt:
Chapter: Scaena Secunda.

Enter Gaunt, and Dutchesse of Gloucester.

  Gaunt. Alas, the part I had in Glousters blood,
Doth more solicite me then your exclaimes,
To stirre against the Butchers of his life.
But since correction lyeth in those hands
Which made the fault that we cannot correct,
Put we our quarrell to the will of heauen,
Who when they see the houres ripe on earth,
Will raigne hot vengeance on offenders heads

   Dut. Findes brotherhood in thee no sharper spurre?
Hath loue in thy old blood no liuing fire?
Edwards seuen sonnes (whereof thy selfe art one)
Were as seuen violles of his Sacred blood,
Or seuen faire branches springing from one roote:
Some of those seuen are dride by natures course,
Some of those branches by the destinies cut:
But Thomas, my deere Lord, my life, my Glouster,
One Violl full of Edwards Sacred blood,
One flourishing branch of his most Royall roote
Is crack'd, and all the precious liquor spilt;
Is hackt downe, and his summer leafes all vaded
By Enuies hand, and Murders bloody Axe.
Ah Gaunt! His blood was thine, that bed, that wombe,
That mettle, that selfe-mould that fashion'd thee,
Made him a man: and though thou liu'st, and breath'st,
Yet art thou slaine in him: thou dost consent
In some large measure to thy Fathers death,
In that thou seest thy wretched brother dye,
Who was the modell of thy Fathers life.
Call it not patience (Gaunt) it is dispaire,
In suffring thus thy brother to be slaughter'd,
Thou shew'st the naked pathway to thy life,
Teaching sterne murther how to butcher thee:
That which in meane men we intitle patience
Is pale cold cowardice in noble brests:
What shall I say, to safegard thine owne life,
The best way is to venge my Glousters death

   Gaunt. Heauens is the quarrell: for heauens substitute
His Deputy annointed in his sight,
Hath caus'd his death, the which if wrongfully
Let heauen reuenge: for I may neuer lift
An angry arme against his Minister

   Dut. Where then (alas may I) complaint my selfe?
  Gau. To heauen, the widdowes Champion to defence
  Dut. Why then I will: farewell old Gaunt.
Thou go'st to Couentrie, there to behold
Our Cosine Herford, and fell Mowbray fight:
O sit my husbands wrongs on Herfords speare,
That it may enter butcher Mowbrayes brest:
Or if misfortune misse the first carreere,
Be Mowbrayes sinnes so heauy in his bosome,
That they may breake his foaming Coursers backe,
And throw the Rider headlong in the Lists,
A Caytiffe recreant to my Cosine Herford:
Farewell old Gaunt, thy sometimes brothers wife
With her companion Greefe, must end her life

   Gau. Sister farewell: I must to Couentree,
As much good stay with thee, as go with mee

   Dut. Yet one word more: Greefe boundeth where it falls,
Not with the emptie hollownes, but weight:
I take my leaue, before I haue begun,
For sorrow ends not, when it seemeth done.
Commend me to my brother Edmund Yorke.
Loe, this is all: nay, yet depart not so,
Though this be all, do not so quickly go,
I shall remember more. Bid him, Oh, what?
With all good speed at Plashie visit mee.
Alacke, and what shall good old Yorke there see
But empty lodgings, and vnfurnish'd walles,
Vn-peopel'd Offices, vntroden stones?
And what heare there for welcome, but my grones?
Therefore commend me, let him not come there,
To seeke out sorrow, that dwels euery where:
Desolate, desolate will I hence, and dye,
The last leaue of thee, takes my weeping eye.

Exeunt.

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

completion: John of Gaunt laments the fact that his son is starting a new quarrel over the Duke of Gloucester's death. The Duchess of Gloucester does not agree with his sentiments, saying instead that her husband's death should be revenged. Powerless to intervene in the state affairs, the Duchess wishes that Mowbray will be killed immediately during the duel with Bolingbroke. Gaunt informs her that he must leave for Coventry where the fight will take place, but that she should pray to God for her revenge


prompt:
Chapter: Scena Tertia.

Enter Marshall, and Aumerle.

  Mar. My L[ord]. Aumerle, is Harry Herford arm'd

   Aum. Yea, at all points, and longs to enter in

   Mar. The Duke of Norfolke, sprightfully and bold,
Stayes but the summons of the Appealants Trumpet

   Au. Why then the Champions, are prepar'd, and stay
For nothing but his Maiesties approach.

Flourish.

Enter King, Gaunt, Bushy, Bagot, Greene, & others: Then
Mowbray in Armor,
and Harrold.

  Rich. Marshall, demand of yonder Champion
The cause of his arriuall heere in Armes,
Aske him his name, and orderly proceed
To sweare him in the iustice of his cause

   Mar. In Gods name, and the Kings say who y art,
And why thou com'st thus knightly clad in Armes?
Against what man thou com'st, and what's thy quarrell,
Speake truly on thy knighthood, and thine oath,
As so defend thee heauen, and thy valour

   Mow. My name is Tho[mas]. Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk,
Who hither comes engaged by my oath
(Which heauen defend a knight should violate)
Both to defend my loyalty and truth,
To God, my King, and his succeeding issue,
Against the Duke of Herford, that appeales me:
And by the grace of God, and this mine arme,
To proue him (in defending of my selfe)
A Traitor to my God, my King, and me,
And as I truly fight, defend me heauen.

Tucket. Enter Hereford, and Harold.

  Rich. Marshall: Aske yonder Knight in Armes,
Both who he is, and why he commeth hither,
Thus placed in habiliments of warre:
And formerly according to our Law
Depose him in the iustice of his cause

   Mar. What is thy name? and wherfore comst y hither
Before King Richard in his Royall Lists?
Against whom com'st thou? and what's thy quarrell?
Speake like a true Knight, so defend thee heauen

   Bul. Harry of Herford, Lancaster, and Derbie,
Am I: who ready heere do stand in Armes,
To proue by heauens grace, and my bodies valour,
In Lists, on Thomas Mowbray Duke of Norfolke,
That he's a Traitor foule, and dangerous,
To God of heauen, King Richard, and to me,
And as I truly fight, defend me heauen

   Mar. On paine of death, no person be so bold,
Or daring hardie as to touch the Listes,
Except the Marshall, and such Officers
Appointed to direct these faire designes

   Bul. Lord Marshall, let me kisse my Soueraigns hand,
And bow my knee before his Maiestie:
For Mowbray and my selfe are like two men,
That vow a long and weary pilgrimage,
Then let vs take a ceremonious leaue
And louing farwell of our seuerall friends

   Mar. The Appealant in all duty greets your Highnes,
And craues to kisse your hand, and take his leaue

   Rich. We will descend, and fold him in our armes.
Cosin of Herford, as thy cause is iust,
So be thy fortune in this Royall fight:
Farewell, my blood, which if to day thou shead,
Lament we may, but not reuenge thee dead

   Bull. Oh let no noble eye prophane a teare
For me, if I be gor'd with Mowbrayes speare:
As confident, as is the Falcons flight
Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight.
My louing Lord, I take my leaue of you,
Of you (my Noble Cosin) Lord Aumerle;
Not sicke, although I haue to do with death,
But lustie, yong, and cheerely drawing breath.
Loe, as at English Feasts, so I regreete
The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet.
Oh thou the earthy author of my blood,
Whose youthfull spirit in me regenerate,
Doth with a two-fold rigor lift mee vp
To reach at victory aboue my head,
Adde proofe vnto mine Armour with thy prayres,
And with thy blessings steele my Lances point,
That it may enter Mowbrayes waxen Coate,
And furnish new the name of Iohn a Gaunt,
Euen in the lusty hauiour of his sonne

   Gaunt. Heauen in thy good cause make thee prosp'rous
Be swift like lightning in the execution,
And let thy blowes doubly redoubled,
Fall like amazing thunder on the Caske
Of thy amaz'd pernicious enemy.
Rouze vp thy youthfull blood, be valiant, and liue

   Bul. Mine innocence, and S[aint]. George to thriue

   Mow. How euer heauen or fortune cast my lot,
There liues, or dies, true to Kings Richards Throne,
A loyall, iust, and vpright Gentleman:
Neuer did Captiue with a freer heart,
Cast off his chaines of bondage, and embrace
His golden vncontroul'd enfranchisement,
More then my dancing soule doth celebrate
This Feast of Battell, with mine Aduersarie.
Most mighty Liege, and my companion Peeres,
Take from my mouth, the wish of happy yeares,
As gentle, and as iocond, as to iest,
Go I to fight: Truth, hath a quiet brest

   Rich. Farewell, my Lord, securely I espy
Vertue with Valour, couched in thine eye:
Order the triall Marshall, and begin

   Mar. Harrie of Herford, Lancaster, and Derby,
Receiue thy Launce, and heauen defend thy right

   Bul. Strong as a towre in hope, I cry Amen

   Mar. Go beare this Lance to Thomas D[uke]. of Norfolke

   1.Har. Harry of Herford, Lancaster, and Derbie,
Stands heere for God, his Soueraigne, and himselfe,
On paine to be found false, and recreant,
To proue the Duke of Norfolke, Thomas Mowbray,
A Traitor to his God, his King, and him,
And dares him to set forwards to the fight

   2.Har. Here standeth Tho[mas]: Mowbray Duke of Norfolk
On paine to be found false and recreant,
Both to defend himselfe, and to approue
Henry of Herford, Lancaster, and Derby,
To God, his Soueraigne, and to him disloyall:
Couragiously, and with a free desire
Attending but the signall to begin.

A charge sounded

  Mar. Sound Trumpets, and set forward Combatants:
Stay, the King hath throwne his Warder downe

   Rich. Let them lay by their Helmets & their Speares,
And both returne backe to their Chaires againe:
Withdraw with vs, and let the Trumpets sound,
While we returne these Dukes what we decree.

A long Flourish.

Draw neere and list
What with our Councell we haue done.
For that our kingdomes earth should not be soyld
With that deere blood which it hath fostered,
And for our eyes do hate the dire aspect
Of ciuill wounds plowgh'd vp with neighbors swords,
Which so rouz'd vp with boystrous vntun'd drummes,
With harsh resounding Trumpets dreadfull bray,
And grating shocke of wrathfull yron Armes,
Might from our quiet Confines fright faire peace,
And make vs wade euen in our kindreds blood:
Therefore, we banish you our Territories.
You Cosin Herford, vpon paine of death,
Till twice fiue Summers haue enrich'd our fields,
Shall not regreet our faire dominions,
But treade the stranger pathes of banishment

   Bul. Your will be done: This must my comfort be,
That Sun that warmes you heere, shall shine on me:
And those his golden beames to you heere lent,
Shall point on me, and gild my banishment

   Rich. Norfolke: for thee remaines a heauier dombe,
Which I with some vnwillingnesse pronounce,
The slye slow houres shall not determinate
The datelesse limit of thy deere exile:
The hopelesse word, of Neuer to returne,
Breath I against thee, vpon paine of life

   Mow. A heauy sentence, my most Soueraigne Liege,
And all vnlook'd for from your Highnesse mouth:
A deerer merit, not so deepe a maime,
As to be cast forth in the common ayre
Haue I deserued at your Highnesse hands.
The Language I haue learn'd these forty yeares
(My natiue English) now I must forgo,
And now my tongues vse is to me no more,
Then an vnstringed Vyall, or a Harpe,
Or like a cunning Instrument cas'd vp,
Or being open, put into his hands
That knowes no touch to tune the harmony.
Within my mouth you haue engaol'd my tongue,
Doubly percullist with my teeth and lippes,
And dull, vnfeeling, barren ignorance,
Is made my Gaoler to attend on me:
I am too old to fawne vpon a Nurse,
Too farre in yeeres to be a pupill now:
What is thy sentence then, but speechlesse death,
Which robs my tongue from breathing natiue breath?
  Rich. It boots thee not to be compassionate,
After our sentence, plaining comes too late

   Mow. Then thus I turne me from my countries light
To dwell in solemne shades of endlesse night

   Ric. Returne againe, and take an oath with thee,
Lay on our Royall sword, your banisht hands;
Sweare by the duty that you owe to heauen
(Our part therein we banish with your selues)
To keepe the Oath that we administer:
You neuer shall (so helpe you Truth, and Heauen)
Embrace each others loue in banishment,
Nor euer looke vpon each others face,
Nor euer write, regreete, or reconcile
This lowring tempest of your home-bred hate,
Nor euer by aduised purpose meete,
To plot, contriue, or complot any ill,
'Gainst Vs, our State, our Subiects, or our Land

   Bull. I sweare

   Mow. And I, to keepe all this

   Bul. Norfolke, so fare, as to mine enemie,
By this time (had the King permitted vs)
One of our soules had wandred in the ayre,
Banish'd this fraile sepulchre of our flesh,
As now our flesh is banish'd from this Land.
Confesse thy Treasons, ere thou flye this Realme,
Since thou hast farre to go, beare not along
The clogging burthen of a guilty soule

   Mow. No Bullingbroke: If euer I were Traitor,
My name be blotted from the booke of Life,
And I from heauen banish'd, as from hence:
But what thou art, heauen, thou, and I do know,
And all too soone (I feare) the King shall rue.
Farewell (my Liege) now no way can I stray,
Saue backe to England, all the worlds my way.
Enter.

  Rich. Vncle, euen in the glasses of thine eyes
I see thy greeued heart: thy sad aspect,
Hath from the number of his banish'd yeares
Pluck'd foure away: Six frozen Winters spent,
Returne with welcome home, from banishment

   Bul. How long a time lyes in one little word:
Foure lagging Winters, and foure wanton springs
End in a word, such is the breath of Kings

   Gaunt. I thanke my Liege, that in regard of me
He shortens foure yeares of my sonnes exile:
But little vantage shall I reape thereby.
For ere the sixe yeares that he hath to spend
Can change their Moones, and bring their times about,
My oyle-dride Lampe, and time-bewasted light
Shall be extinct with age, and endlesse night:
My inch of Taper, will be burnt, and done,
And blindfold death, not let me see my sonne

   Rich. Why Vncle, thou hast many yeeres to liue

   Gaunt. But not a minute (King) that thou canst giue;
Shorten my dayes thou canst with sudden sorow,
And plucke nights from me, but not lend a morrow:
Thou canst helpe time to furrow me with age,
But stop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage:
Thy word is currant with him, for my death,
But dead, thy kingdome cannot buy my breath

   Ric. Thy sonne is banish'd vpon good aduice,
Whereto thy tongue a party-verdict gaue,
Why at our Iustice seem'st thou then to lowre?
  Gau. Things sweet to tast, proue in digestion sowre:
You vrg'd me as a Iudge, but I had rather
You would haue bid me argue like a Father.
Alas, I look'd when some of you should say,
I was too strict to make mine owne away:
But you gaue leaue to my vnwilling tong,
Against my will, to do my selfe this wrong

   Rich. Cosine farewell: and Vncle bid him so:
Six yeares we banish him, and he shall go.
Enter.

Flourish.

  Au. Cosine farewell: what presence must not know
From where you do remaine, let paper show

   Mar. My Lord, no leaue take I, for I will ride
As farre as land will let me, by your side

   Gaunt. Oh to what purpose dost thou hord thy words,
That thou returnst no greeting to thy friends?
  Bull. I haue too few to take my leaue of you,
When the tongues office should be prodigall,
To breath th' abundant dolour of the heart

   Gau. Thy greefe is but thy absence for a time

   Bull. Ioy absent, greefe is present for that time

   Gau. What is sixe Winters, they are quickely gone?
  Bul. To men in ioy, but greefe makes one houre ten

   Gau. Call it a trauell that thou tak'st for pleasure

   Bul. My heart will sigh, when I miscall it so,
Which findes it an inforced Pilgrimage

   Gau. The sullen passage of thy weary steppes
Esteeme a soyle, wherein thou art to set
The precious Iewell of thy home returne

   Bul. Oh who can hold a fire in his hand
By thinking on the frostie Caucasus?
Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite,
By bare imagination of a Feast?
Or Wallow naked in December snow
By thinking on fantasticke summers heate?
Oh no, the apprehension of the good
Giues but the greater feeling to the worse:
Fell sorrowes tooth, doth euer ranckle more
Then when it bites, but lanceth not the sore

   Gau. Come, come (my son) Ile bring thee on thy way
Had I thy youth, and cause, I would not stay

   Bul. Then Englands ground farewell: sweet soil adieu,
My Mother, and my Nurse, which beares me yet:
Where ere I wander, boast of this I can,
Though banish'd, yet a true-borne Englishman.

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

completion: The two quarreling noblemen are armed and ready to fight in the arena at Coventry when King Richard arrives. The duel is conducted ceremonially, with the Lord Marshal obeying the king's orders. He first makes Mowbray come forward and state why he is present, followed by Bolingbroke. Both men give their names and reasons for fighting. Bolingbroke, before the fight begins, asks if he may have permission to kiss Richard's ring. Richard instead chooses to break with the usual ceremony, saying, "We will descend and fold him in our arms". Both men say some final words to their friends and family and take up their positions. The Lord Marshall orders the weapons to be given to the men, and then waits for the signal to begin. Just as the trumpet sounds, King Richard allows his warder, the staff that the king traditionally carries, to fall. The Lord Marshall immediately halts the duel and makes the men return to their chairs. Richard decides that rather than allow bloodshed, he would prefer to banish the two men. Mowbray is forever banned from England, and Bolingbroke receives a banishment of ten years. Mowbray still refuses to ever admit to being a traitor, and departs in exile. Richard, seeing how sad John of Gaunt appears over the banishment of his son, immediately reduces the time to only six years. Gaunt is still not happy because he realizes that he will be dead before his son ever returns. Richard tries to reassure him, and asks why he supported the decision to banish his son earlier. Gaunt replies that he was deciding as a judge, not a father, and that he now regrets his decision. Richard refuses to alter the sentence any more, and departs from the arena. Gaunt notices that Bolingbroke refuses to speak to anyone and tries to cheer him up. However, Bolingbroke feels that being banished is a disaster. He unwillingly departs from England


prompt:
Chapter: Scoena Quarta.

Enter King, Aumerle, Greene, and Bagot.

  Rich. We did obserue. Cosine Aumerle,
How far brought you high Herford on his way?
  Aum. I brought high Herford (if you call him so)
But to the next high way, and there I left him

   Rich. And say, what store of parting tears were shed?
  Aum. Faith none for me: except the Northeast wind
Which then grew bitterly against our face,
Awak'd the sleepie rhewme, and so by chance
Did grace our hollow parting with a teare

   Rich. What said our Cosin when you parted with him?
  Au. Farewell: and for my hart disdained y my tongue
Should so prophane the word, that taught me craft
To counterfeit oppression of such greefe,
That word seem'd buried in my sorrowes graue.
Marry, would the word Farwell, haue lengthen'd houres,
And added yeeres to his short banishment,
He should haue had a volume of Farwels,
But since it would not, he had none of me

   Rich. He is our Cosin (Cosin) but 'tis doubt,
When time shall call him home from banishment,
Whether our kinsman come to see his friends,
Our selfe, and Bushy: heere Bagot and Greene
Obseru'd his Courtship to the common people:
How he did seeme to diue into their hearts,
With humble, and familiar courtesie,
What reuerence he did throw away on slaues;
Wooing poore Craftes-men, with the craft of soules,
And patient vnder-bearing of his Fortune,
As 'twere to banish their affects with him.
Off goes his bonnet to an Oyster-wench,
A brace of Dray-men bid God speed him well,
And had the tribute of his supple knee,
With thankes my Countrimen, my louing friends,
As were our England in reuersion his,
And he our subiects next degree in hope

   Gr. Well, he is gone, & with him go these thoughts:
Now for the Rebels, which stand out in Ireland,
Expedient manage must be made my Liege
Ere further leysure, yeeld them further meanes
For their aduantage, and your Highnesse losse

   Ric. We will our selfe in person to this warre,
And for our Coffers, with too great a Court,
And liberall Largesse, are growne somewhat light,
We are inforc'd to farme our royall Realme,
The Reuennew whereof shall furnish vs
For our affayres in hand: if that come short
Our Substitutes at home shall haue Blanke-charters:
Whereto, when they shall know what men are rich,
They shall subscribe them for large summes of Gold,
And send them after to supply our wants:
For we will make for Ireland presently.
Enter Bushy.

Bushy, what newes?
  Bu. Old Iohn of Gaunt is verie sicke my Lord,
Sodainly taken, and hath sent post haste
To entreat your Maiesty to visit him

   Ric. Where lyes he?
  Bu. At Ely house

   Ric. Now put it (heauen) in his Physitians minde,
To helpe him to his graue immediately:
The lining of his coffers shall make Coates
To decke our souldiers for these Irish warres.
Come Gentlemen, let's all go visit him:
Pray heauen we may make hast, and come too late.
Enter.

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

completion: Richard asks Aumerle how Bolingbroke reacted after the sentencing. Aumerle says that he pretended to be overwhelmed with grief rather than tell Bolingbroke "farewell. Richard tells the assembled men that Bolingbroke was becoming dangerous because of his popularity among the common people. Observed his courtship to the common people, / How he did seem to dive into their hearts". Now that Bolingbroke is gone, Richard starts to prepare for a war with Ireland, which is in revolt. He makes the decision to go to Ireland himself, and in an effort to get money for the war he chooses to sell the king's right to tax as well as write blank charters, or forced loans. After making these decisions, Richard is informed that John of Gaunt has fallen ill and will likely die soon. Richard immediately expresses his will to confiscate Gaunt's estate, which would technically become Bolingbroke's land and money


prompt:
Chapter: Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.

Enter Gaunt, sicke with Yorke.

  Gau. Will the King come, that I may breath my last
In wholsome counsell to his vnstaid youth?
  Yor. Vex not your selfe, nor striue not with your breth,
For all in vaine comes counsell to his eare

   Gau. Oh but (they say) the tongues of dying men
Inforce attention like deepe harmony;
Where words are scarse, they are seldome spent in vaine,
For they breath truth, that breath their words in paine.
He that no more must say, is listen'd more,
Then they whom youth and ease haue taught to glose,
More are mens ends markt, then their liues before,
The setting Sun, and Musicke in the close
As the last taste of sweetes, is sweetest last,
Writ in remembrance, more then things long past;
Though Richard my liues counsell would not heare,
My deaths sad tale, may yet vndeafe his eare

   Yor. No, it is stopt with other flatt'ring sounds
As praises of his state: then there are found
Lasciuious Meeters, to whose venom sound
The open eare of youth doth alwayes listen.
Report of fashions in proud Italy,
Whose manners still our tardie apish Nation
Limpes after in base imitation.
Where doth the world thrust forth a vanity,
So it be new, there's no respect how vile,
That is not quickly buz'd into his eares?
That all too late comes counsell to be heard,
Where will doth mutiny with wits regard:
Direct not him, whose way himselfe will choose,
Tis breath thou lackst, and that breath wilt thou loose

   Gaunt. Me thinkes I am a Prophet new inspir'd,
And thus expiring, do foretell of him,
His rash fierce blaze of Ryot cannot last,
For violent fires soone burne out themselues,
Small showres last long, but sodaine stormes are short,
He tyres betimes, that spurs too fast betimes;
With eager feeding, food doth choake the feeder:
Light vanity, insatiate cormorant,
Consuming meanes soone preyes vpon it selfe.
This royall Throne of Kings, this sceptred Isle,
This earth of Maiesty, this seate of Mars,
This other Eden, demy paradise,
This Fortresse built by Nature for her selfe,
Against infection, and the hand of warre:
This happy breed of men, this little world,
This precious stone, set in the siluer sea,
Which serues it in the office of a wall,
Or as a Moate defensiue to a house,
Against the enuy of lesse happier Lands,
This blessed plot, this earth, this Realme, this England,
This Nurse, this teeming wombe of Royall Kings,
Fear'd by their breed, and famous for their birth,
Renowned for their deeds, as farre from home,
For Christian seruice, and true Chiualrie,
As is the sepulcher in stubborne Iury
Of the Worlds ransome, blessed Maries Sonne.
This Land of such deere soules, this deere-deere Land,
Deere for her reputation through the world,
Is now Leas'd out (I dye pronouncing it)
Like to a Tenement or pelting Farme.
England bound in with the triumphant sea,
Whose rocky shore beates backe the enuious siedge
Of watery Neptune, is now bound in with shame,
With Inky blottes, and rotten Parchment bonds.
That England, that was wont to conquer others,
Hath made a shamefull conquest of it selfe.
Ah! would the scandall vanish with my life,
How happy then were my ensuing death?
Enter King, Queene, Aumerle, Bushy, Greene, Bagot, Ros, and
Willoughby.

  Yor. The King is come, deale mildly with his youth,
For young hot Colts, being rag'd, do rage the more

   Qu. How fares our noble Vncle Lancaster?
  Ri. What comfort man? How ist with aged Gaunt?
  Ga. Oh how that name befits my composition:
Old Gaunt indeed, and gaunt in being old:
Within me greefe hath kept a tedious fast,
And who abstaynes from meate, that is not gaunt?
For sleeping England long time haue I watcht,
Watching breeds leannesse, leannesse is all gaunt.
The pleasure that some Fathers feede vpon,
Is my strict fast, I meane my Childrens lookes,
And therein fasting, hast thou made me gaunt:
Gaunt am I for the graue, gaunt as a graue,
Whose hollow wombe inherits naught but bones

   Ric. Can sicke men play so nicely with their names?
  Gau. No, misery makes sport to mocke it selfe:
Since thou dost seeke to kill my name in mee,
I mocke my name (great King) to flatter thee

   Ric. Should dying men flatter those that liue?
  Gau. No, no, men liuing flatter those that dye

   Rich. Thou now a dying, sayst thou flatter'st me

   Gau. Oh no, thou dyest, though I the sicker be

   Rich. I am in health, I breath, I see thee ill

   Gau. Now he that made me, knowes I see thee ill:
Ill in my selfe to see, and in thee, seeing ill,
Thy death-bed is no lesser then the Land,
Wherein thou lyest in reputation sicke,
And thou too care-lesse patient as thou art,
Commit'st thy 'anointed body to the cure
Of those Physitians, that first wounded thee.
A thousand flatterers sit within thy Crowne,
Whose compasse is no bigger then thy head,
And yet incaged in so small a Verge,
The waste is no whit lesser then thy Land:
Oh had thy Grandsire with a Prophets eye,
Seene how his sonnes sonne, should destroy his sonnes,
From forth thy reach he would haue laid thy shame,
Deposing thee before thou wert possest,
Which art possest now to depose thy selfe.
Why (Cosine) were thou Regent of the world,
It were a shame to let his Land by lease:
But for thy world enioying but this Land,
Is it not more then shame, to shame it so?
Landlord of England art thou, and not King:
Thy state of Law, is bondslaue to the law,
And-
  Rich. And thou, a lunaticke leane-witted foole,
Presuming on an Agues priuiledge,
Dar'st with thy frozen admonition
Make pale our cheeke, chasing the Royall blood
With fury, from his natiue residence?
Now by my Seates right Royall Maiestie,
Wer't thou not Brother to great Edwards sonne,
This tongue that runs so roundly in thy head,
Should run thy head from thy vnreuerent shoulders

   Gau. Oh spare me not, my brothers Edwards sonne,
For that I was his Father Edwards sonne:
That blood already (like the Pellican)
Thou hast tapt out, and drunkenly carows'd.
My brother Gloucester, plaine well meaning soule
(Whom faire befall in heauen 'mongst happy soules)
May be a president, and witnesse good,
That thou respect'st not spilling Edwards blood:
Ioyne with the present sicknesse that I haue,
And thy vnkindnesse be like crooked age,
To crop at once a too-long wither'd flowre.
Liue in thy shame, but dye not shame with thee,
These words heereafter, thy tormentors bee.
Conuey me to my bed, then to my graue,
Loue they to liue, that loue and honor haue.

Exit

  Rich. And let them dye, that age and sullens haue,
For both hast thou, and both become the graue

   Yor. I do beseech your Maiestie impute his words
To wayward sicklinesse, and age in him:
He loues you on my life, and holds you deere
As Harry Duke of Herford, were he heere

   Rich. Right, you say true: as Herfords loue, so his;
As theirs, so mine: and all be as it is.
Enter Northumberland.

  Nor. My Liege, olde Gaunt commends him to your
Maiestie

   Rich. What sayes he?
  Nor. Nay nothing, all is said:
His tongue is now a stringlesse instrument,
Words, life, and all, old Lancaster hath spent

   Yor. Be Yorke the next, that must be bankrupt so,
Though death be poore, it ends a mortall wo

   Rich. The ripest fruit first fals, and so doth he,
His time is spent, our pilgrimage must be:
So much for that. Now for our Irish warres,
We must supplant those rough rug-headed Kernes,
Which liue like venom, where no venom else
But onely they, haue priuiledge to liue.
And for these great affayres do aske some charge
Towards our assistance, we do seize to vs
The plate, coine, reuennewes, and moueables,
Whereof our Vncle Gaunt did stand possest

   Yor. How long shall I be patient? Oh how long
Shall tender dutie make me suffer wrong?
Not Glousters death, nor Herfords banishment,
Nor Gauntes rebukes, nor Englands priuate wrongs,
Nor the preuention of poore Bullingbrooke,
About his marriage, nor my owne disgrace
Haue euer made me sowre my patient cheeke,
Or bend one wrinckle on my Soueraignes face:
I am the last of noble Edwards sonnes,
Of whom thy Father Prince of Wales was first,
In warre was neuer Lyon rag'd more fierce:
In peace, was neuer gentle Lambe more milde,
Then was that yong and Princely Gentleman,
His face thou hast, for euen so look'd he
Accomplish'd with the number of thy howers:
But when he frown'd, it was against the French,
And not against his friends: his noble hand
Did win what he did spend: and spent not that
Which his triumphant fathers hand had won:
His hands were guilty of no kindreds blood,
But bloody with the enemies of his kinne:
Oh Richard, Yorke is too farre gone with greefe,
Or else he neuer would compare betweene

   Rich. Why Vncle,
What's the matter?
  Yor. Oh my Liege, pardon me if you please, if not
I pleas'd not to be pardon'd, am content with all:
Seeke you to seize, and gripe into your hands
The Royalties and Rights of banish'd Herford?
Is not Gaunt dead? and doth not Herford liue?
Was not Gaunt iust? and is not Harry true?
Did not the one deserue to haue an heyre?
Is not his heyre a well-deseruing sonne?
Take Herfords rights away, and take from time
His Charters, and his customarie rights:
Let not to morrow then insue to day,
Be not thy selfe. For how art thou a King
But by faire sequence and succession?
Now afore God, God forbid I say true,
If you do wrongfully seize Herfords right,
Call in his Letters Patents that he hath
By his Atturneyes generall, to sue
His Liuerie, and denie his offer'd homage,
You plucke a thousand dangers on your head,
You loose a thousand well-disposed hearts,
And pricke my tender patience to those thoughts
Which honor and allegeance cannot thinke

   Ric. Thinke what you will: we seise into our hands,
His plate, his goods, his money, and his lands

   Yor. Ile not be by the while: My Liege farewell,
What will ensue heereof, there's none can tell.
But by bad courses may be vnderstood,
That their euents can neuer fall out good.
Enter.

  Rich. Go Bushie to the Earle of Wiltshire streight,
Bid him repaire to vs to Ely house,
To see this businesse: to morrow next
We will for Ireland, and 'tis time, I trow:
And we create in absence of our selfe
Our Vncle Yorke, Lord Gouernor of England:
For he is iust, and alwayes lou'd vs well.
Come on our Queene, to morrow must we part,
Be merry, for our time of stay is short.

Flourish.

Manet North. Willoughby, & Ross.

  Nor. Well Lords, the Duke of Lancaster is dead

   Ross. And liuing too, for now his sonne is Duke

   Wil. Barely in title, not in reuennew

   Nor. Richly in both, if iustice had her right

   Ross. My heart is great: but it must break with silence,
Er't be disburthen'd with a liberall tongue

   Nor. Nay speake thy mind: & let him ne'r speak more
That speakes thy words againe to do thee harme

   Wil. Tends that thou'dst speake to th' Du[ke]. of Hereford,
If it be so, out with it boldly man,
Quicke is mine eare to heare of good towards him

   Ross. No good at all that I can do for him,
Vnlesse you call it good to pitie him,
Bereft and gelded of his patrimonie

   Nor. Now afore heauen, 'tis shame such wrongs are
borne.
In him a royall Prince, and many moe
Of noble blood in this declining Land;
The King is not himselfe, but basely led
By Flatterers, and what they will informe
Meerely in hate 'gainst any of vs all,
That will the King seuerely prosecute
'Gainst vs, our liues, our children, and our heires

   Ros. The Commons hath he pil'd with greeuous taxes
And quite lost their hearts: the Nobles hath he finde
For ancient quarrels, and quite lost their hearts

   Wil. And daily new exactions are deuis'd,
As blankes, beneuolences, and I wot not what:
But what o' Gods name doth become of this?
  Nor. Wars hath not wasted it, for war'd he hath not.
But basely yeelded vpon comprimize,
That which his Ancestors atchieu'd with blowes:
More hath he spent in peace, then they in warres

   Ros. The Earle of Wiltshire hath the realme in Farme

   Wil. The Kings growne bankrupt like a broken man

   Nor. Reproach, and dissolution hangeth ouer him

   Ros. He hath not monie for these Irish warres:
(His burthenous taxations notwithstanding)
But by the robbing of the banish'd Duke

   Nor. His noble Kinsman, most degenerate King:
But Lords, we heare this fearefull tempest sing,
Yet seeke no shelter to auoid the storme:
We see the winde sit sore vpon our sailes,
And yet we strike not, but securely perish

   Ros. We see the very wracke that we must suffer,
And vnauoyded is the danger now
For suffering so the causes of our wracke

   Nor. Not so: euen through the hollow eyes of death,
I spie life peering: but I dare not say
How neere the tidings of our comfort is

   Wil. Nay let vs share thy thoughts, as thou dost ours
  Ros. Be confident to speake Northumberland,
We three, are but thy selfe, and speaking so,
Thy words are but as thoughts, therefore be bold

   Nor. Then thus: I haue from Port le Blan
A Bay in Britaine, receiu'd intelligence,
That Harry Duke of Herford, Rainald Lord Cobham,
That late broke from the Duke of Exeter,
His brother Archbishop, late of Canterbury,
Sir Thomas Erpingham, Sir Iohn Rainston,
Sir Iohn Norberie, & Sir Robert Waterton, & Francis Quoint,
All these well furnish'd by the Duke of Britaine,
With eight tall ships, three thousand men of warre
Are making hither with all due expedience,
And shortly meane to touch our Northerne shore:
Perhaps they had ere this, but that they stay
The first departing of the King for Ireland.
If then we shall shake off our slauish yoake,
Impe out our drooping Countries broken wing,
Redeeme from broaking pawne the blemish'd Crowne,
Wipe off the dust that hides our Scepters gilt,
And make high Maiestie looke like it selfe,
Away with me in poste to Rauenspurgh,
But if you faint, as fearing to do so,
Stay, and be secret, and my selfe will go

   Ros. To horse, to horse, vrge doubts to them y feare

   Wil. Hold out my horse, and I will first be there.

Exeunt.

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

completion: John of Gaunt, close to dying, is sitting in a chair speaking with the Duke of York. He wishes that Richard would arrive because he want to advise Richard on becoming a better king. York informs Gaunt that it is unlikely Richard will ever listen to him, since the king has surrounded himself with flatterers. Gaunt predicts that Richard's, "rash, fierce blaze of riot cannot last". He speaks of the glorious past he has seen England live through, and wishes that his death will allow England to renew hew glory. Richard arrives and asks Gaunt how he is feeling. Gaunt responds with a long lecture on how Richard is destroying England with his mismanagement. Richard tells Gaunt that if he were not a sick old man his head would already have been cut off. Gaunt continues with his condemnation, and then leaves the room to return to his bed and die. Northumberland enters a few moments later and informs the king that Gaunt is dead. Richard orders his men to prepare to seize the estate left behind as a means of paying for the war in Ireland. York speaks up and tells Richard that if he ignores the hereditary rights of the nobles then he will make a great deal of enemies among the nobility. Richard ignores this advice and continues with his seizure of the estate. Northumberland, aware that Bolingbroke is returning home, informs two other men named Ross and Willoughby that Bolingbroke is returning to lay claim to his estate. Furthermore, Bolingbroke is sailing to the northern shore with an entire army, as well as the support of many of the nobles. Northumberland then informs the men that he is leaving to go join the army in revolt against Richard's terrible mismanagement of the kingdom. Ross and Willoughby decide to join him as well


prompt:
Chapter: Scena Secunda.

Enter Queene, Bushy, and Bagot.

  Bush. Madam, your Maiesty is too much sad,
You promis'd when you parted with the King,
To lay aside selfe-harming heauinesse,
And entertaine a cheerefull disposition

   Qu. To please the King, I did: to please my selfe
I cannot do it: yet I know no cause
Why I should welcome such a guest as greefe,
Saue bidding farewell to so sweet a guest
As my sweet Richard; yet againe me thinkes,
Some vnborne sorrow, ripe in fortunes wombe
Is comming towards me, and my inward soule
With nothing trembles, at something it greeues,
More then with parting from my Lord the King

   Bush. Each substance of a greefe hath twenty shadows
Which shewes like greefe it selfe, but is not so:
For sorrowes eye, glazed with blinding teares,
Diuides one thing intire, to many obiects,
Like perspectiues, which rightly gaz'd vpon
Shew nothing but confusion, ey'd awry,
Distinguish forme: so your sweet Maiestie
Looking awry vpon your Lords departure,
Finde shapes of greefe, more then himselfe to waile,
Which look'd on as it is, is naught but shadowes
Of what it is not: then thrice-gracious Queene,
More then your Lords departure weep not, more's not seene;
Or if it be, 'tis with false sorrowes eie,
Which for things true, weepe things imaginary

   Qu. It may be so: but yet my inward soule
Perswades me it is otherwise: how ere it be,
I cannot but be sad: so heauy sad,
As though on thinking on no thought I thinke,
Makes me with heauy nothing faint and shrinke

   Bush. 'Tis nothing but conceit (my gracious Lady.)
  Qu. 'Tis nothing lesse: conceit is still deriu'd
From some fore-father greefe, mine is not so,
For nothing hath begot my something greefe,
Or something, hath the nothing that I greeue,
'Tis in reuersion that I do possesse,
But what it is, that is not yet knowne, what
I cannot name, 'tis namelesse woe I wot.
Enter Greene.

  Gree. Heauen saue your Maiesty, and wel met Gentlemen:
I hope the King is not yet shipt for Ireland

   Qu. Why hop'st thou so? Tis better hope he is:
For his designes craue hast, his hast good hope,
Then wherefore dost thou hope he is not shipt?
  Gre. That he our hope, might haue retyr'd his power,
and driuen into dispaire an enemies hope,
Who strongly hath set footing in this Land.
The banish'd Bullingbrooke repeales himselfe,
And with vp-lifted Armes is safe arriu'd
At Rauenspurg

   Qu. Now God in heauen forbid

   Gr. O Madam 'tis too true: and that is worse,
The L[ord]. Northumberland, his yong sonne Henrie Percie,
The Lords of Rosse, Beaumond, and Willoughby,
With all their powrefull friends are fled to him

   Bush. Why haue you not proclaim'd Northumberland
And the rest of the reuolted faction, Traitors?
  Gre. We haue: whereupon the Earle of Worcester
Hath broke his staffe, resign'd his Stewardship,
And al the houshold seruants fled with him to Bullinbrook
  Qu. So Greene, thou art the midwife of my woe,
And Bullinbrooke my sorrowes dismall heyre:
Now hath my soule brought forth her prodegie,
And I a gasping new deliuered mother,
Haue woe to woe, sorrow to sorrow ioyn'd

   Bush. Dispaire not Madam

   Qu. Who shall hinder me?
I will dispaire, and be at enmitie
With couzening hope; he is a Flatterer,
A Parasite, a keeper backe of death,
Who gently would dissolue the bands of life,
Which false hopes linger in extremity.
Enter Yorke.

  Gre. Heere comes the Duke of Yorke

   Qu. With signes of warre about his aged necke,
Oh full of carefull businesse are his lookes:
Vncle, for heauens sake speake comfortable words:
  Yor. Comfort's in heauen, and we are on the earth,
Where nothing liues but crosses, care and greefe:
Your husband he is gone to saue farre off,
Whilst others come to make him loose at home:
Heere am I left to vnder-prop his Land,
Who weake with age, cannot support my selfe:
Now comes the sicke houre that his surfet made,
Now shall he try his friends that flattered him.
Enter a seruant.

  Ser. My Lord, your sonne was gone before I came

   Yor. He was: why so: go all which way it will:
The Nobles they are fled, the Commons they are cold,
And will I feare reuolt on Herfords side.
Sirra, get thee to Plashie to my sister Gloster,
Bid her send me presently a thousand pound,
Hold, take my Ring

   Ser. My Lord, I had forgot
To tell your Lordship, to day I came by, and call'd there,
But I shall greeue you to report the rest

   Yor. What is't knaue?
  Ser. An houre before I came, the Dutchesse di'de

   Yor. Heau'n for his mercy, what a tide of woes
Come rushing on this wofull Land at once?
I know not what to do: I would to heauen
(So my vntruth had not prouok'd him to it)
The King had cut off my head with my brothers.
What, are there postes dispatcht for Ireland?
How shall we do for money for these warres?
Come sister (Cozen I would say) pray pardon me.
Go fellow, get thee home, prouide some Carts,
And bring away the Armour that is there.
Gentlemen, will you muster men?
If I know how, or which way to order these affaires
Thus disorderly thrust into my hands,
Neuer beleeue me. Both are my kinsmen,
Th' one is my Soueraigne, whom both my oath
And dutie bids defend: th' other againe
Is my kinsman, whom the King hath wrong'd,
Whom conscience, and my kindred bids to right:
Well, somewhat we must do: Come Cozen,
Ile dispose of you. Gentlemen, go muster vp your men,
And meet me presently at Barkley Castle:
I should to Plashy too: but time will not permit,
All is vneuen, and euery thing is left at six and seuen.

Exit

  Bush. The winde sits faire for newes to go to Ireland,
But none returnes: For vs to leuy power
Proportionable to th' enemy, is all impossible

   Gr. Besides our neerenesse to the King in loue,
Is neere the hate of those loue not the King

   Ba. And that's the wauering Commons, for their loue
Lies in their purses, and who so empties them,
By so much fils their hearts with deadly hate

   Bush. Wherein the king stands generally condemn'd
  Bag. If iudgement lye in them, then so do we,
Because we haue beene euer neere the King

   Gr. Well: I will for refuge straight to Bristoll Castle,
The Earle of Wiltshire is alreadie there

   Bush. Thither will I with you, for little office
Will the hatefull Commons performe for vs,
Except like Curres, to teare vs all in peeces:
Will you go along with vs?
  Bag. No, I will to Ireland to his Maiestie:
Farewell, if hearts presages be not vaine,
We three here part, that neu'r shall meete againe

   Bu. That's as Yorke thriues to beate back Bullinbroke
  Gr. Alas poore Duke, the taske he vndertakes
Is numbring sands, and drinking Oceans drie,
Where one on his side fights, thousands will flye

   Bush. Farewell at once, for once, for all, and euer.
Well, we may meete againe

   Bag. I feare me neuer.
Enter.

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

completion: The Queen is upset that Richard has been forced to go to Ireland, and misses his presence. Bushy tries to comfort her, but is interrupted by Green with the news that Bolingbroke has landed in the north. To make things even worse, he further tells her that Northumberland, Northumberland's son Harry Percy, and several other noblemen have joined the rebels. York, left behind to manage the kingdom in Richard's absence, arrives dressed in battle garments. He is so old that he is not sure he can defend the throne from Bolingbroke's army. Here am I, left to underprop his land, / Who, weak with age, cannot support myself". York orders his servingman to go to his sister, the Duchess of Gloucester, and ask her for a thousand pounds. The servingman informs him that his sister died only an hour ago, and therefore cannot help him. York, completely distraught by so many problems at once, tries to muster an army with the few forces he has at his disposal. He orders some armor to be brought from his own estate, and begs the few remaining nobles to lend him their men. Green and Bushy decide to run away to Bristol Castle and seek refuge there, for they know that they will be killed if captured by Bolingbroke. Bagot is the only noble who chooses to instead go to Richard's army, which is still en route to Ireland