prompt:
Chapter: Actus Quartus. Scene 1.

Enter Prince, Bastard, Leonato, Frier, Claudio, Benedicke, Hero,
and
Beatrice.

  Leonato. Come Frier Francis, be briefe, onely to the
plaine forme of marriage, and you shal recount their particular
duties afterwards

   Fran. You come hither, my Lord, to marry this Lady

   Clau. No

   Leo. To be married to her: Frier, you come to marrie
her

   Frier. Lady, you come hither to be married to this
Count

   Hero. I doe

   Frier. If either of you know any inward impediment
why you should not be conioyned, I charge you on your
soules to vtter it

   Claud. Know you anie, Hero?
  Hero. None my Lord

   Frier. Know you anie, Count?
  Leon. I dare make his answer, None

   Clau. O what men dare do! what men may do! what
men daily do!
  Bene. How now! interiections? why then, some be
of laughing, as ha, ha, he

   Clau. Stand thee by Frier, father, by your leaue,
Will you with free and vnconstrained soule
Giue me this maid your daughter?
  Leon. As freely sonne as God did giue her me

   Cla. And what haue I to giue you back, whose worth
May counterpoise this rich and precious gift?
  Prin. Nothing, vnlesse you render her againe

   Clau. Sweet Prince, you learn me noble thankfulnes:
There Leonato, take her backe againe,
Giue not this rotten Orenge to your friend,
Shee's but the signe and semblance of her honour:
Behold how like a maid she blushes heere!
O what authoritie and shew of truth
Can cunning sinne couer it selfe withall!
Comes not that bloud, as modest euidence,
To witnesse simple Vertue? would you not sweare
All you that see her, that she were a maide,
By these exterior shewes? But she is none:
She knowes the heat of a luxurious bed:
Her blush is guiltinesse, not modestie

   Leonato. What doe you meane, my Lord?
  Clau. Not to be married,
Not to knit my soule to an approued wanton

   Leon. Deere my Lord, if you in your owne proofe,
Haue vanquisht the resistance of her youth,
And made defeat of her virginitie

   Clau. I know what you would say: if I haue knowne
(her,
You will say, she did imbrace me as a husband,
And so extenuate the forehand sinne: No Leonato,
I neuer tempted her with word too large,
But as a brother to his sister, shewed
Bashfull sinceritie and comely loue

   Hero. And seem'd I euer otherwise to you?
  Clau. Out on thee seeming, I will write against it,
You seeme to me as Diane in her Orbe,
As chaste as is the budde ere it be blowne:
But you are more intemperate in your blood,
Than Venus, or those pampred animalls,
That rage in sauage sensualitie

   Hero. Is my Lord well, that he doth speake so wide?
  Leon. Sweete Prince, why speake not you?
  Prin. What should I speake?
I stand dishonour'd that haue gone about,
To linke my deare friend to a common stale

   Leon. Are these things spoken, or doe I but dreame?
  Bast. Sir, they are spoken, and these things are true

   Bene. This lookes not like a nuptiall

   Hero. True, O God!
  Clau. Leonato, stand I here?
Is this the Prince? is this the Princes brother?
Is this face Heroes? are our eies our owne?
  Leon. All this is so, but what of this my Lord?
  Clau. Let me but moue one question to your daughter,
And by that fatherly and kindly power,
That you haue in her, bid her answer truly

   Leo. I charge thee doe, as thou art my childe

   Hero. O God defend me how am I beset,
What kinde of catechizing call you this?
  Clau. To make you answer truly to your name

   Hero. Is it not Hero? who can blot that name
With any iust reproach?
  Claud. Marry that can Hero,
Hero it selfe can blot out Heroes vertue.
What man was he, talkt with you yesternight,
Out at your window betwixt twelue and one?
Now if you are a maid, answer to this

   Hero. I talkt with no man at that howre my Lord

   Prince. Why then you are no maiden. Leonato,
I am sorry you must heare: vpon mine honor,
My selfe, my brother, and this grieued Count
Did see her, heare her, at that howre last night,
Talke with a ruffian at her chamber window,
Who hath indeed most like a liberall villaine,
Confest the vile encounters they haue had
A thousand times in secret

   Iohn. Fie, fie, they are not to be named my Lord,
Not to be spoken of,
There is not chastitie enough in language,
Without offence to vtter them: thus pretty Lady
I am sorry for thy much misgouernment

   Claud. O Hero! what a Hero hadst thou beene
If halfe thy outward graces had beene placed
About thy thoughts and counsailes of thy heart?
But fare thee well, most foule, most faire, farewell
Thou pure impiety, and impious puritie,
For thee Ile locke vp all the gates of Loue,
And on my eie-lids shall Coniecture hang,
To turne all beauty into thoughts of harme,
And neuer shall it more be gracious

   Leon. Hath no mans dagger here a point for me?
  Beat. Why how now cosin, wherfore sink you down?
  Bast. Come, let vs go: these things come thus to light,
Smother her spirits vp

   Bene. How doth the Lady?
  Beat. Dead I thinke, helpe vncle,
Hero, why Hero, Vncle, Signor Benedicke, Frier

   Leonato. O Fate! take not away thy heauy hand,
Death is the fairest couer for her shame
That may be wisht for

   Beatr. How now cosin Hero?
  Fri. Haue comfort Ladie

   Leon. Dost thou looke vp?
  Frier. Yea, wherefore should she not?
  Leon. Wherfore? Why doth not euery earthly thing
Cry shame vpon her? Could she heere denie
The storie that is printed in her blood?
Do not liue Hero, do not ope thine eyes:
For did I thinke thou wouldst not quickly die,
Thought I thy spirits were stronger then thy shames,
My selfe would on the reward of reproaches
Strike at thy life. Grieu'd I, I had but one?
Chid I, for that at frugal Natures frame?
O one too much by thee: why had I one?
Why euer was't thou louelie in my eies?
Why had I not with charitable hand
Tooke vp a beggars issue at my gates,
Who smeered thus, and mir'd with infamie,
I might haue said, no part of it is mine:
This shame deriues it selfe from vnknowne loines,
But mine, and mine I lou'd, and mine I prais'd,
And mine that I was proud on mine so much,
That I my selfe, was to my selfe not mine:
Valewing of her, why she, O she is falne
Into a pit of Inke, that the wide sea
Hath drops too few to wash her cleane againe,
And salt too little, which may season giue
To her foule tainted flesh

   Ben. Sir, sir, be patient: for my part, I am so attired
in wonder, I know not what to say

   Bea. O on my soule my cosin is belied

   Ben. Ladie, were you her bedfellow last night?
  Bea. No, truly: not although vntill last night,
I haue this tweluemonth bin her bedfellow

   Leon. Confirm'd, confirm'd, O that is stronger made
Which was before barr'd vp with ribs of iron.
Would the Princes lie, and Claudio lie,
Who lou'd her so, that speaking of her foulnesse,
Wash'd it with teares? Hence from her, let her die

   Fri. Heare me a little, for I haue onely bene silent so
long, and giuen way vnto this course of fortune, by noting
of the Ladie, I haue markt.
A thousand blushing apparitions,
To start into her face, a thousand innocent shames,
In Angel whitenesse beare away those blushes,
And in her eie there hath appear'd a fire
To burne the errors that these Princes hold
Against her maiden truth. Call me a foole,
Trust not my reading, nor my obseruations,
Which with experimental seale doth warrant
The tenure of my booke: trust not my age,
My reuerence, calling, nor diuinitie,
If this sweet Ladie lye not guiltlesse heere,
Vnder some biting error

   Leo. Friar, it cannot be:
Thou seest that all the Grace that she hath left,
Is, that she wil not adde to her damnation,
A sinne of periury, she not denies it:
Why seek'st thou then to couer with excuse,
That which appeares in proper nakednesse?
  Fri. Ladie, what man is he you are accus'd of?
  Hero. They know that do accuse me, I know none:
If I know more of any man aliue
Then that which maiden modestie doth warrant,
Let all my sinnes lacke mercy. O my Father,
Proue you that any man with me conuerst,
At houres vnmeete, or that I yesternight
Maintain'd the change of words with any creature,
Refuse me, hate me, torture me to death

   Fri. There is some strange misprision in the Princes

   Ben. Two of them haue the verie bent of honor,
And if their wisedomes be misled in this:
The practise of it liues in Iohn the bastard,
Whose spirits toile in frame of villanies

   Leo. I know not: if they speake but truth of her,
These hands shall teare her: If they wrong her honour,
The proudest of them shall wel heare of it.
Time hath not yet so dried this bloud of mine,
Nor age so eate vp my inuention,
Nor Fortune made such hauocke of my meanes,
Nor my bad life reft me so much of friends,
But they shall finde, awak'd in such a kinde,
Both strength of limbe, and policie of minde,
Ability in meanes, and choise of friends,
To quit me of them throughly

   Fri. Pause awhile:
And let my counsell sway you in this case,
Your daughter heere the Princesse (left for dead)
Let her awhile be secretly kept in,
And publish it, that she is dead indeed:
Maintaine a mourning ostentation,
And on your Families old monument,
Hang mournfull Epitaphes, and do all rites,
That appertaine vnto a buriall

   Leon. What shall become of this? What wil this do?
  Fri. Marry this wel carried, shall on her behalfe,
Change slander to remorse, that is some good,
But not for that dreame I on this strange course,
But on this trauaile looke for greater birth:
She dying, as it must be so maintain'd,
Vpon the instant that she was accus'd,
Shal be lamented, pittied, and excus'd
Of euery hearer: for it so fals out,
That what we haue, we prize not to the worth,
Whiles we enioy it; but being lack'd and lost,
Why then we racke the value, then we finde
The vertue that possession would not shew vs
Whiles it was ours, so will it fare with Claudio:
When he shal heare she dyed vpon his words,
Th' Idea of her life shal sweetly creepe
Into his study of imagination.
And euery louely Organ of her life,
Shall come apparel'd in more precious habite:
More mouing delicate, and ful of life,
Into the eye and prospect of his soule
Then when she liu'd indeed: then shal he mourne,
If euer Loue had interest in his Liuer,
And wish he had not so accused her:
No, though he thought his accusation true:
Let this be so, and doubt not but successe
Wil fashion the euent in better shape,
Then I can lay it downe in likelihood.
But if all ayme but this be leuelld false,
The supposition of the Ladies death,
Will quench the wonder of her infamie.
And if it sort not well, you may conceale her
As best befits her wounded reputation,
In some reclusiue and religious life,
Out of all eyes, tongues, mindes and iniuries

   Bene. Signior Leonato, let the Frier aduise you,
And though you know my inwardnesse and loue
Is very much vnto the Prince and Claudio.
Yet, by mine honor, I will deale in this,
As secretly and iustlie, as your soule
Should with your bodie

   Leon. Being that I flow in greefe,
The smallest twine may lead me

   Frier. 'Tis well consented, presently away,
For to strange sores, strangely they straine the cure,
Come Lady, die to liue, this wedding day
Perhaps is but prolong'd, haue patience & endure.
Enter.

  Bene. Lady Beatrice, haue you wept all this while?
  Beat. Yea, and I will weepe a while longer

   Bene. I will not desire that

   Beat. You haue no reason, I doe it freely

   Bene. Surelie I do beleeue your fair cosin is wrong'd

   Beat. Ah, how much might the man deserue of mee
that would right her!
  Bene. Is there any way to shew such friendship?
  Beat. A verie euen way, but no such friend

   Bene. May a man doe it?
  Beat. It is a mans office, but not yours

   Bene. I doe loue nothing in the world so well as you,
is not that strange?
  Beat. As strange as the thing I know not, it were as
possible for me to say, I loued nothing so well as you, but
beleeue me not, and yet I lie not, I confesse nothing, nor
I deny nothing, I am sorry for my cousin

   Bene. By my sword Beatrice thou lou'st me

   Beat. Doe not sweare by it and eat it

   Bene. I will sweare by it that you loue mee, and I will
make him eat it that sayes I loue not you

   Beat. Will you not eat your word?
  Bene. With no sawce that can be deuised to it, I protest
I loue thee

   Beat. Why then God forgiue me

   Bene. What offence sweet Beatrice?
  Beat. You haue stayed me in a happy howre, I was about
to protest I loued you

   Bene. And doe it with all thy heart

   Beat. I loue you with so much of my heart, that none
is left to protest

   Bened. Come, bid me doe any thing for thee

   Beat. Kill Claudio

   Bene. Ha, not for the wide world

   Beat. You kill me to denie, farewell

   Bene. Tarrie sweet Beatrice

   Beat. I am gone, though I am heere, there is no loue
in you, nay I pray you let me goe

   Bene. Beatrice

   Beat. Infaith I will goe

   Bene. Wee'll be friends first

   Beat. You dare easier be friends with mee, than fight
with mine enemy

   Bene. Is Claudio thine enemie?
  Beat. Is a not approued in the height a villaine, that
hath slandered, scorned, dishonoured my kinswoman? O
that I were a man! what, beare her in hand vntill they
come to take hands, and then with publike accusation
vncouered slander, vnmittigated rancour? O God that I
were a man! I would eat his heart in the market-place

   Bene. Heare me Beatrice

   Beat. Talke with a man out at a window, a proper
saying

   Bene. Nay but Beatrice

   Beat. Sweet Hero, she is wrong'd, shee is slandered,
she is vndone

   Bene. Beat?
  Beat. Princes and Counties! surelie a Princely testimonie,
a goodly Count, Comfect, a sweet Gallant surelie,
O that I were a man for his sake! or that I had any
friend would be a man for my sake! But manhood is melted
into cursies, valour into complement, and men are
onelie turned into tongue, and trim ones too: he is now
as valiant as Hercules, that only tells a lie, and sweares it:
I cannot be a man with wishing, therfore I will die a woman
with grieuing

   Bene. Tarry good Beatrice, by this hand I loue thee

   Beat. Vse it for my loue some other way then swearing
by it

   Bened. Thinke you in your soule the Count Claudio
hath wrong'd Hero?
  Beat. Yea, as sure as I haue a thought, or a soule

   Bene. Enough, I am engagde, I will challenge him, I
will kisse your hand, and so leaue you: by this hand Claudio
shall render me a deere account: as you heare of me,
so thinke of me: goe comfort your coosin, I must say she
is dead, and so farewell.

Scene 2.

Enter the Constables, Borachio, and the Towne Clerke in gownes.

  Keeper. Is our whole dissembly appeard?
  Cowley. O a stoole and a cushion for the Sexton

   Sexton. Which be the malefactors?
  Andrew. Marry that am I, and my partner

   Cowley. Nay that's certaine, wee haue the exhibition
to examine

   Sexton. But which are the offenders that are to be examined,
let them come before master Constable

   Kemp. Yea marry, let them come before mee, what is
your name, friend?
  Bor. Borachio

   Kem. Pray write downe Borachio. Yours sirra

   Con. I am a Gentleman sir, and my name is Conrade

   Kee. Write downe Master gentleman Conrade: maisters,
doe you serue God: maisters, it is proued alreadie
that you are little better than false knaues, and it will goe
neere to be thought so shortly, how answer you for your
selues?
  Con. Marry sir, we say we are none

   Kemp. A maruellous witty fellow I assure you, but I
will goe about with him: come you hither sirra, a word
in your eare sir, I say to you, it is thought you are false
knaues

   Bor. Sir, I say to you, we are none

   Kemp. Well, stand aside, 'fore God they are both in
a tale: haue you writ downe that they are none?
  Sext. Master Constable, you goe not the way to examine,
you must call forth the watch that are their accusers

   Kemp. Yea marry, that's the eftest way, let the watch
come forth: masters, I charge you in the Princes name,
accuse these men

   Watch 1. This man said sir, that Don Iohn the Princes
brother was a villaine

   Kemp. Write down, Prince Iohn a villaine: why this
is flat periurie, to call a Princes brother villaine

   Bora. Master Constable

   Kemp. Pray thee fellow peace, I do not like thy looke
I promise thee

   Sexton. What heard you him say else?
  Watch 2. Mary that he had receiued a thousand Dukates
of Don Iohn, for accusing the Lady Hero wrongfully

   Kemp. Flat Burglarie as euer was committed

   Const. Yea by th' masse that it is

   Sexton. What else fellow?
  Watch 1. And that Count Claudio did meane vpon his
words, to disgrace Hero before the whole assembly, and
not marry her

   Kemp. O villaine! thou wilt be condemn'd into euerlasting
redemption for this

   Sexton. What else?
  Watch. This is all

   Sexton. And this is more masters then you can deny,
Prince Iohn is this morning secretly stolne away: Hero
was in this manner accus'd, in this very manner refus'd,
and vpon the griefe of this sodainely died: Master Constable,
let these men be bound, and brought to Leonato,
I will goe before, and shew him their examination

   Const. Come, let them be opinion'd

   Sex. Let them be in the hands of Coxcombe

   Kem. Gods my life, where's the Sexton? let him write
downe the Princes Officer Coxcombe: come, binde them
thou naughty varlet

   Couley. Away, you are an asse, you are an asse

   Kemp. Dost thou not suspect my place? dost thou not
suspect my yeeres? O that hee were heere to write mee
downe an asse! but masters, remember that I am an asse:
though it be not written down, yet forget not y I am an
asse: No thou villaine, y art full of piety as shall be prou'd
vpon thee by good witnesse, I am a wise fellow, and
which is more, an officer, and which is more, a houshoulder,
and which is more, as pretty a peece of flesh as any in
Messina, and one that knowes the Law, goe to, & a rich
fellow enough, goe to, and a fellow that hath had losses,
and one that hath two gownes, and euery thing handsome
about him: bring him away: O that I had been writ
downe an asse!
Enter.

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

completion: In Gaultree Forest in Yorkshire, the leaders of the rebel army--the Archbishop of York, Mowbray, and Hastings--have arrived with their army. The Archbishop tells his allies he has received a letter from Northumberland in which he says he will not be coming to their aid. A soldier, returning to the camp from a scouting mission, reports that King Henry IV's approaching army is now barely a mile away. The army is being led by Prince John, the king's younger son; the king, who is sick, is still at Westminster. The scout is immediately followed by the Earl of Westmoreland, an ally of King Henry who has been sent as a messenger. Westmoreland accuses the Archbishop of improperly using his religious authority to support rebellion; the Archbishop replies that he did not want to, but he felt he had no choice, since King Henry was leading the country into ruin and the rebels could not get their complaints addressed. Westmoreland tells the rebels that Prince John has been given full authority to act in the king's name and is willing to grant their demands if they seem reasonable. The Archbishop gives Westmoreland a list of the rebels' demands, and Westmoreland leaves to show it to Prince John. While the rebels wait for Westmoreland to return, Mowbray voices his fear that, even if they do make peace, the royal family will only be waiting for an opportunity to have them killed. However, Hastings and the Archbishop are sure that his fears are groundless. Westmoreland returns and brings the rebels back with him to the royal camp to speak with Prince John. The prince says that he has looked over the demands and that they seem reasonable; he will grant all the rebels' requests. If they agree, he says, they should discharge their army and let the soldiers go home. Very pleased, the rebel leaders send messengers to tell their soldiers that they can go home. They and Prince John drink together and make small talk about the upcoming peace. However, as soon as word comes from the rebels' messengers that their army has been scattered, Prince John gives an order to arrest Hastings, Mowbray, and the Archbishop as traitors. When they ask how he can be so dishonorable, Prince John answers that he is not breaking his word: he promised to address their complaints, and he will. However, he never promised not to kill the rebels themselves. He then gives orders for the rebels to be taken away and executed. Meanwhile, elsewhere in the forest, one of the departing rebels--Sir John Coleville of the Dale--runs into Falstaff, who has finally made it to the field of battle. Recognizing Falstaff, Coleville surrenders to him. Prince John enters the scene and Falstaff presents his captive to him. Westmoreland appears to tell the Prince that the army is withdrawing; Prince John sends Coleville off with the other rebels to execution, and he announces he will return to the court in London because he hears his father is very sick. Falstaff heads off to Gloucestershire in order to beg some money from Justice Shallow.


prompt:
Chapter: Actus Quintus. Scene 1.

Enter Leonato and his brother.

  Brother. If you goe on thus, you will kill your selfe,
And 'tis not wisedome thus to second griefe,
Against your selfe

   Leon. I pray thee cease thy counsaile,
Which falls into mine eares as profitlesse,
As water in a siue: giue not me counsaile,
Nor let no comfort delight mine eare,
But such a one whose wrongs doth sute with mine.
Bring me a father that so lou'd his childe,
Whose ioy of her is ouer-whelmed like mine,
And bid him speake of patience,
Measure his woe the length and bredth of mine,
And let it answere euery straine for straine,
As thus for thus, and such a griefe for such,
In euery lineament, branch, shape, and forme:
If such a one will smile and stroke his beard,
And sorrow, wagge, crie hem, when he should grone,
Patch griefe with prouerbs, make misfortune drunke,
With candle-wasters: bring him yet to me,
And I of him will gather patience:
But there is no such man, for brother, men
Can counsaile, and speake comfort to that griefe,
Which they themselues not feele, but tasting it,
Their counsaile turnes to passion, which before,
Would giue preceptiall medicine to rage,
Fetter strong madnesse in a silken thred,
Charme ache with ayre, and agony with words,
No, no, 'tis all mens office, to speake patience
To those that wring vnder the load of sorrow:
But no mans vertue nor sufficiencie
To be so morall, when he shall endure
The like himselfe: therefore giue me no counsaile,
My griefs cry lowder then aduertisement

   Broth. Therein do men from children nothing differ

   Leonato. I pray thee peace, I will be flesh and bloud,
For there was neuer yet Philosopher,
That could endure the tooth-ake patiently,
How euer they haue writ the stile of gods,
And made a push at chance and sufferance

   Brother. Yet bend not all the harme vpon your selfe,
Make those that doe offend you, suffer too

   Leon. There thou speak'st reason, nay I will doe so,
My soule doth tell me, Hero is belied,
And that shall Claudio know, so shall the Prince,
And all of them that thus dishonour her.
Enter Prince and Claudio.

  Brot. Here comes the Prince and Claudio hastily

   Prin. Good den, good den

   Clau. Good day to both of you

   Leon. Heare you my Lords?
  Prin. We haue some haste Leonato

   Leo. Some haste my Lord! wel, fareyouwel my Lord,
Are you so hasty now? well, all is one

   Prin. Nay, do not quarrel with vs, good old man

   Brot. If he could rite himselfe with quarrelling,
Some of vs would lie low

   Claud. Who wrongs him?
  Leon. Marry y dost wrong me, thou dissembler, thou:
Nay, neuer lay thy hand vpon thy sword,
I feare thee not

   Claud. Marry beshrew my hand,
If it should giue your age such cause of feare,
Infaith my hand meant nothing to my sword

   Leonato. Tush, tush, man, neuer fleere and iest at me,
I speake not like a dotard, nor a foole,
As vnder priuiledge of age to bragge,
What I haue done being yong, or what would doe,
Were I not old, know Claudio to thy head,
Thou hast so wrong'd my innocent childe and me,
That I am forc'd to lay my reuerence by,
And with grey haires and bruise of many daies,
Doe challenge thee to triall of a man,
I say thou hast belied mine innocent childe.
Thy slander hath gone through and through her heart,
And she lies buried with her ancestors:
O in a tombe where neuer scandall slept,
Saue this of hers, fram'd by thy villanie

   Claud. My villany?
  Leonato. Thine Claudio, thine I say

   Prin. You say not right old man

   Leon. My Lord, my Lord,
Ile proue it on his body if he dare,
Despight his nice fence, and his actiue practise,
His Maie of youth, and bloome of lustihood

   Claud. Away, I will not haue to do with you

   Leo. Canst thou so daffe me? thou hast kild my child,
If thou kilst me, boy, thou shalt kill a man

   Bro. He shall kill two of vs, and men indeed,
But that's no matter, let him kill one first:
Win me and weare me, let him answere me,
Come follow me boy, come sir boy, come follow me
Sir boy, ile whip you from your foyning fence,
Nay, as I am a gentleman, I will

   Leon. Brother

   Brot. Content your self, God knows I lou'd my neece,
And she is dead, slander'd to death by villaines,
That dare as well answer a man indeede,
As I dare take a serpent by the tongue.
Boyes, apes, braggarts, Iackes, milke-sops

   Leon. Brother Anthony

   Brot. Hold you content, what man? I know them, yea
And what they weigh, euen to the vtmost scruple,
Scambling, out-facing, fashion-monging boyes,
That lye, and cog, and flout, depraue, and slander,
Goe antiquely, and show outward hidiousnesse,
And speake of halfe a dozen dang'rous words,
How they might hurt their enemies, if they durst.
And this is all

   Leon. But brother Anthonie

   Ant. Come, 'tis no matter,
Do not you meddle, let me deale in this

   Pri. Gentlemen both, we will not wake your patience
My heart is sorry for your daughters death:
But on my honour she was charg'd with nothing
But what was true, and very full of proofe

   Leon. My Lord, my Lord

   Prin. I will not heare you.
Enter Benedicke.

  Leo. No come brother, away, I will be heard.

Exeunt. ambo.

  Bro. And shall, or some of vs will smart for it

   Prin. See, see, here comes the man we went to seeke

   Clau. Now signior, what newes?
  Ben. Good day my Lord

   Prin. Welcome signior, you are almost come to part
almost a fray

   Clau. Wee had likt to haue had our two noses snapt
off with two old men without teeth

   Prin. Leonato and his brother, what think'st thou? had
wee fought, I doubt we should haue beene too yong for
them

   Ben. In a false quarrell there is no true valour, I came
to seeke you both

   Clau. We haue beene vp and downe to seeke thee, for
we are high proofe melancholly, and would faine haue it
beaten away, wilt thou vse thy wit?
  Ben. It is in my scabberd, shall I draw it?
  Prin. Doest thou weare thy wit by thy side?
  Clau. Neuer any did so, though verie many haue been
beside their wit, I will bid thee drawe, as we do the minstrels,
draw to pleasure vs

   Prin. As I am an honest man he lookes pale, art thou
sicke, or angrie?
  Clau. What, courage man: what though care kil'd a
cat, thou hast mettle enough in thee to kill care

   Ben. Sir, I shall meete your wit in the careere, and
you charge it against me, I pray you chuse another subiect

   Clau. Nay then giue him another staffe, this last was
broke crosse

   Prin. By this light, he changes more and more, I thinke
he be angrie indeede

   Clau. If he be, he knowes how to turne his girdle

   Ben. Shall I speake a word in your eare?
  Clau. God blesse me from a challenge

   Ben. You are a villaine, I iest not, I will make it good
how you dare, with what you dare, and when you dare:
do me right, or I will protest your cowardise: you haue
kill'd a sweete Ladie, and her death shall fall heauie on
you, let me heare from you

   Clau. Well, I will meete you, so I may haue good
cheare

   Prin. What, a feast, a feast?
  Clau. I faith I thanke him, he hath bid me to a calues
head and a Capon, the which if I doe not carue most curiously,
say my knife's naught, shall I not finde a woodcocke
too?
  Ben. Sir, your wit ambles well, it goes easily

   Prin. Ile tell thee how Beatrice prais'd thy wit the other
day: I said thou hadst a fine wit: true saies she, a fine
little one: no said I, a great wit: right saies shee, a great
grosse one: nay said I, a good wit: iust said she, it hurts
no body: nay said I, the gentleman is wise: certaine said
she, a wise gentleman: nay said I, he hath the tongues:
that I beleeue said shee, for hee swore a thing to me on
munday night, which he forswore on tuesday morning:
there's a double tongue, there's two tongues: thus did
shee an howre together trans-shape thy particular vertues,
yet at last she concluded with a sigh, thou wast the
proprest man in Italie

   Claud. For the which she wept heartily, and said shee
car'd not

   Prin. Yea that she did, but yet for all that, and if shee
did not hate him deadlie, shee would loue him dearely,
the old mans daughter told vs all

   Clau. All, all, and moreouer, God saw him when he
was hid in the garden

   Prin. But when shall we set the sauage Bulls hornes
on the sensible Benedicks head?
  Clau. Yea and text vnderneath, heere dwells Benedicke
the married man

   Ben. Fare you well, Boy, you know my minde, I will
leaue you now to your gossep-like humor, you breake
iests as braggards do their blades, which God be thanked
hurt not: my Lord, for your manie courtesies I thank
you, I must discontinue your companie, your brother
the Bastard is fled from Messina: you haue among you,
kill'd a sweet and innocent Ladie: for my Lord Lackebeard
there, he and I shall meete, and till then peace be
with him

   Prin. He is in earnest

   Clau. In most profound earnest, and Ile warrant you,
for the loue of Beatrice

   Prin. And hath challeng'd thee

   Clau. Most sincerely

   Prin. What a prettie thing man is, when he goes in his
doublet and hose, and leaues off his wit.
Enter Constable, Conrade, and Borachio.

  Clau. He is then a Giant to an Ape, but then is an Ape
a Doctor to such a man

   Prin. But soft you, let me be, plucke vp my heart, and
be sad, did he not say my brother was fled?
  Const. Come you sir, if iustice cannot tame you, shee
shall nere weigh more reasons in her ballance, nay, and
you be a cursing hypocrite once, you must be lookt to

   Prin. How now, two of my brothers men bound? Borachio
one

   Clau. Harken after their offence my Lord

   Prin. Officers, what offence haue these men done?
  Const. Marrie sir, they haue committed false report,
moreouer they haue spoken vntruths, secondarily they
are slanders, sixt and lastly, they haue belyed a Ladie,
thirdly, they haue verified vniust things, and to conclude
they are lying knaues

   Prin. First I aske thee what they haue done, thirdlie
I aske thee what's their offence, sixt and lastlie why they
are committed, and to conclude, what you lay to their
charge

   Clau. Rightlie reasoned, and in his owne diuision, and
by my troth there's one meaning well suted

   Prin. Who haue you offended masters, that you are
thus bound to your answer? this learned Constable is too
cunning to be vnderstood, what's your offence?
  Bor. Sweete Prince, let me go no farther to mine answere:
do you heare me, and let this Count kill mee: I
haue deceiued euen your verie eies: what your wisedomes
could not discouer, these shallow fooles haue
brought to light, who in the night ouerheard me confessing
to this man, how Don Iohn your brother incensed
me to slander the Ladie Hero, how you were brought
into the Orchard, and saw me court Margaret in Heroes
garments, how you disgrac'd her when you should
marrie her: my villanie they haue vpon record, which
I had rather seale with my death, then repeate ouer to
my shame: the Ladie is dead vpon mine and my masters
false accusation: and briefelie, I desire nothing but the
reward of a villaine

   Prin. Runs not this speech like yron through your
bloud?
  Clau. I haue drunke poison whiles he vtter'd it

   Prin. But did my Brother set thee on to this?
  Bor. Yea, and paid me richly for the practise of it

   Prin. He is compos'd and fram'd of treacherie,
And fled he is vpon this villanie

   Clau. Sweet Hero, now thy image doth appeare
In the rare semblance that I lou'd it first

   Const. Come, bring away the plaintiffes, by this time
our Sexton hath reformed Signior Leonato of the matter:
and masters, do not forget to specifie when time & place
shall serue, that I am an Asse

   Con.2. Here, here comes master Signior Leonato, and
the Sexton too.
Enter Leonato.

  Leon. Which is the villaine? let me see his eies,
That when I note another man like him,
I may auoide him: which of these is he?
  Bor. If you would know your wronger, looke on me

   Leon. Art thou the slaue that with thy breath
hast kild mine innocent childe?
  Bor. Yea, euen I alone

   Leo. No, not so villaine, thou beliest thy selfe,
Here stand a paire of honourable men,
A third is fled that had a hand in it:
I thanke you Princes for my daughters death,
Record it with your high and worthie deedes,
'Twas brauely done, if you bethinke you of it

   Clau. I know not how to pray your patience,
Yet I must speake, choose your reuenge your selfe,
Impose me to what penance your inuention
Can lay vpon my sinne, yet sinn'd I not,
But in mistaking

   Prin. By my soule nor I,
And yet to satisfie this good old man,
I would bend vnder anie heauie waight,
That heele enioyne me to

   Leon. I cannot bid you bid my daughter liue,
That were impossible, but I praie you both,
Possesse the people in Messina here,
How innocent she died, and if your loue
Can labour aught in sad inuention,
Hang her an epitaph vpon her toomb,
And sing it to her bones, sing it to night:
To morrow morning come you to my house,
And since you could not be my sonne in law,
Be yet my Nephew: my brother hath a daughter,
Almost the copie of my childe that's dead,
And she alone is heire to both of vs,
Giue her the right you should haue giu'n her cosin,
And so dies my reuenge

   Clau. O noble sir!
Your ouerkindnesse doth wring teares from me,
I do embrace your offer, and dispose
For henceforth of poore Claudio

   Leon. To morrow then I will expect your comming,
To night I take my leaue, this naughtie man
Shall face to face be brought to Margaret,
Who I beleeue was packt in all this wrong,
Hired to it by your brother

   Bor. No, by my soule she was not,
Nor knew not what she did when she spoke to me,
But alwaies hath bin iust and vertuous,
In anie thing that I do know by her

   Const. Moreouer sir, which indeede is not vnder white
and black, this plaintiffe here, the offendour did call mee
asse, I beseech you let it be remembred in his punishment,
and also the watch heard them talke of one Deformed,
they say he weares a key in his eare and a lock hanging
by it, and borrowes monie in Gods name, the which
he hath vs'd so long, and neuer paied, that now men grow
hard-harted and will lend nothing for Gods sake: praie
you examine him vpon that point

   Leon. I thanke thee for thy care and honest paines

   Const. Your worship speakes like a most thankefull
and reuerend youth, and I praise God for you

   Leon. There's for thy paines

   Const. God saue the foundation

   Leon. Goe, I discharge thee of thy prisoner, and I
thanke thee

   Const. I leaue an arrant knaue with your worship,
which I beseech your worship to correct your selfe, for
the example of others: God keepe your worship, I
wish your worship well, God restore you to health,
I humblie giue you leaue to depart, and if a merrie
meeting may be wisht, God prohibite it: come
neighbour

   Leon. Vntill to morrow morning, Lords, farewell.

Exeunt.

  Brot. Farewell my Lords, we looke for you to morrow

   Prin. We will not faile

   Clau. To night ile mourne with Hero

   Leon. Bring you these fellowes on, weel talke with
Margaret, How her acquaintance grew with this lewd
fellow.

Exeunt.

Scene 2.

Enter Benedicke and Margaret.

  Ben. Praie thee sweete Mistris Margaret, deserue
well at my hands, by helping mee to the speech of Beatrice

   Mar. Will you then write me a Sonnet in praise of
my beautie?
  Bene. In so high a stile Margaret, that no man liuing
shall come ouer it, for in most comely truth thou deseruest
it

   Mar. To haue no man come ouer me, why, shall I alwaies
keepe below staires?
  Bene. Thy wit is as quicke as the grey-hounds mouth,
it catches

   Mar. And yours, as blunt as the Fencers foiles, which
hit, but hurt not

   Bene. A most manly wit Margaret, it will not hurt a
woman: and so I pray thee call Beatrice, I giue thee the
bucklers

   Mar. Giue vs the swords, wee haue bucklers of our
owne

   Bene. If you vse them Margaret, you must put in the
pikes with a vice, and they are dangerous weapons for
Maides

   Mar. Well, I will call Beatrice to you, who I thinke
hath legges.

Exit Margarite.

  Ben. And therefore will come. The God of loue that
sits aboue, and knowes me, and knowes me, how pittifull
I deserue. I meane in singing, but in louing, Leander
the good swimmer, Troilous the first imploier of
pandars, and a whole booke full of these quondam carpet-mongers,
whose name yet runne smoothly in the euen
rode of a blanke verse, why they were neuer so truely
turned ouer and ouer as my poore selfe in loue: marrie
I cannot shew it rime, I haue tried, I can finde out no
rime to Ladie but babie, an innocent rime: for scorne,
horne, a hard rime: for schoole foole, a babling rime:
verie ominous endings, no, I was not borne vnder a riming
Plannet, for I cannot wooe in festiuall tearmes:
Enter Beatrice.

sweete Beatrice would'st thou come when I cal'd
thee?
  Beat. Yea Signior, and depart when you bid me

   Bene. O stay but till then

   Beat. Then, is spoken: fare you well now, and yet ere
I goe, let me goe with that I came, which is, with knowing
what hath past betweene you and Claudio

   Bene. Onely foule words, and thereupon I will kisse
thee

   Beat. Foule words is but foule wind, and foule wind
is but foule breath, and foule breath is noisome, therefore
I will depart vnkist

   Bene. Thou hast frighted the word out of his right
sence, so forcible is thy wit, but I must tell thee plainely,
Claudio vndergoes my challenge, and either I must shortly
heare from him, or I will subscribe him a coward, and
I pray thee now tell me, for which of my bad parts didst
thou first fall in loue with me?
  Beat. For them all together, which maintain'd so
politique a state of euill, that they will not admit any
good part to intermingle with them: but for which of
my good parts did you first suffer loue for me?
  Bene. Suffer loue! a good epithite, I do suffer loue indeede,
for I loue thee against my will,
  Beat. In spight of your heart I think, alas poore heart,
if you spight it for my sake, I will spight it for yours, for
I will neuer loue that which my friend hates

   Bened. Thou and I are too wise to wooe peaceablie

   Bea. It appeares not in this confession, there's not one
wise man among twentie that will praise himselfe

   Bene. An old, an old instance Beatrice, that liu'd in
the time of good neighbours, if a man doe not erect in
this age his owne tombe ere he dies, hee shall liue no
longer in monuments, then the Bels ring, & the Widdow
weepes

   Beat. And how long is that thinke you?
  Ben. Question, why an hower in clamour and a quarter
in rhewme, therfore is it most expedient for the wise,
if Don worme (his conscience) finde no impediment to
the contrarie, to be the trumpet of his owne vertues, as
I am to my selfe so much for praising my selfe, who I my
selfe will beare witnesse is praise worthie, and now tell
me, how doth your cosin?
  Beat. Verie ill

   Bene. And how doe you?
  Beat. Verie ill too.
Enter Vrsula.

  Bene. Serue God, loue me, and mend, there will I leaue
you too, for here comes one in haste

   Vrs. Madam, you must come to your Vncle, yonders
old coile at home, it is prooued my Ladie Hero
hath bin falselie accusde, the Prince and Claudio
mightilie abusde, and Don Iohn is the author of all, who
is fled and gone: will you come presentlie?
  Beat. Will you go heare this newes Signior?
  Bene. I will liue in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be buried
in thy eies: and moreouer, I will goe with thee to
thy Vncles.

Exeunt.

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

completion: Falstaff and Bardolph have returned to Gloucestershire, where they are warmly welcomed by Justice Shallow. Shallow gives orders to his servant, Davy, to prepare a fine dinner for the guests; Davy continually interrupts him by asking questions about the household management and asking favors for servants and local peasants who are in trouble. Falstaff, left alone, laughs over Shallow's friendly foolishness and declares that he will get enough material out of observing Shallow to make Prince Hal laugh for a year. Back in the king's castle at Westminster, the Lord Chief Justice, Warwick, and the younger Princes--Prince John, Clarence, and Gloucester--meet. We learn that King Henry IV has finally died and that everyone in the castle is frightened of what will happen to them, and to the rule of law, now that Prince Hal is in charge. The Lord Chief Justice, especially, expects nothing but evil to befall him, since he has never shied away from scolding Hal for his violations of the law. Moreover, he is responsible for briefly imprisoning Hal , and he is the most despised enemy of Hal's lawless friends, particularly Falstaff. The young princes urge the Justice to speak flatteringly to Falstaff now, but the Justice says that he has always done what he believes is right, and he will not compromise now. Prince Hal enters, dressed in the royal robes of the king. From now on he is King Henry V. The new king Henry addresses his brothers and the courtiers: he tells them that they should not be afraid that he, as the new King, will do them any harm. Still, he notices that they are looking at him strangely--especially the Justice. King Henry V reminds the Justice of the "indignities" that he subjected him to while he was still a prince, by rebuking and punishing him when he broke the law. But the Justice says that he was only acting to maintain the laws and order of Henry IV, the new king's own father. He asks Henry V to imagine himself in a similar situation and decide whether the Justice was wrong. King Henry V, in an unexpected move, agrees with the Justice. He tells him that he has always been wise and just, and he thanks the Justice for having punished him when he was a wild young prince. Moreover, he tells the Justice that not only may he keep his job, but he will have great honor; he asks the Justice to serve as a father figure to him, teaching him how to honorably keep order and helping him keep his own sons in line whenever he might have them.


prompt:
Chapter: Scene 3.

Enter Claudio, Prince, and three or foure with Tapers.

  Clau. Is this the monument of Leonato?
  Lord. It is my Lord.

Epitaph.

Done to death by slanderous tongues,
Was the Hero that here lies:
Death in guerdon of her wrongs,
Giues her fame which neuer dies:
So the life that dyed with shame,
Liues in death with glorious fame.
Hang thou there vpon the tombe,
Praising her when I am dombe

   Clau. Now musick sound & sing your solemn hymne

Song.

Pardon goddesse of the night,
Those that slew thy virgin knight,
For the which with songs of woe,
Round about her tombe they goe:
Midnight assist our mone, helpe vs to sigh and grone.
Heauily, heauily.
Graues yawne and yeelde your dead,
Till death be vttered,
Heauenly, heauenly

   Lo. Now vnto thy bones good night, yeerely will I do this right

   Prin. Good morrow masters, put your Torches out,
The wolues haue preied, and looke, the gentle day
Before the wheeles of Phoebus, round about
Dapples the drowsie East with spots of grey:
Thanks to you all, and leaue vs, fare you well

   Clau. Good morrow masters, each his seuerall way

   Prin. Come let vs hence, and put on other weedes,
And then to Leonatoes we will goe

   Clau. And Hymen now with luckier issue speeds,
Then this for whom we rendred vp this woe.

Exeunt.

Scene 4.

Enter Leonato, Bene. Marg. Vrsula, old man, Frier, Hero.

  Frier. Did I not tell you she was innocent?
  Leo. So are the Prince and Claudio who accus'd her,
Vpon the errour that you heard debated:
But Margaret was in some fault for this,
Although against her will as it appeares,
In the true course of all the question

   Old. Well, I am glad that all things sort so well

   Bene. And so am I, being else by faith enforc'd
To call young Claudio to a reckoning for it

   Leo. Well daughter, and you gentlewomen all,
Withdraw into a chamber by your selues,
And when I send for you, come hither mask'd:
The Prince and Claudio promis'd by this howre
To visit me, you know your office Brother,
You must be father to your brothers daughter,
And giue her to young Claudio.

Exeunt. Ladies.

  Old. Which I will doe with confirm'd countenance

   Bene. Frier, I must intreat your paines, I thinke

   Frier. To doe what Signior?
  Bene. To binde me, or vndoe me, one of them:
Signior Leonato, truth it is good Signior,
Your neece regards me with an eye of fauour

   Leo. That eye my daughter lent her, 'tis most true

   Bene. And I doe with an eye of loue requite her

   Leo. The sight whereof I thinke you had from me,
From Claudio, and the Prince, but what's your will?
  Bened. Your answer sir is Enigmaticall,
But for my will, my will is, your good will
May stand with ours, this day to be conioyn'd,
In the state of honourable marriage,
In which (good Frier) I shall desire your helpe

   Leon. My heart is with your liking

   Frier. And my helpe.
Enter Prince and Claudio, with attendants.

  Prin. Good morrow to this faire assembly

   Leo. Good morrow Prince, good morrow Claudio:
We heere attend you, are you yet determin'd,
To day to marry with my brothers daughter?
  Claud. Ile hold my minde were she an Ethiope

   Leo. Call her forth brother, heres the Frier ready

   Prin. Good morrow Benedicke, why what's the matter?
That you haue such a Februarie face,
So full of frost, of storme, and clowdinesse

   Claud. I thinke he thinkes vpon the sauage bull:
Tush, feare not man, wee'll tip thy hornes with gold,
And all Europa shall reioyce at thee,
As once Europa did at lusty Ioue,
When he would play the noble beast in loue

   Ben. Bull Ioue sir, had an amiable low,
And some such strange bull leapt your fathers Cow,
A got a Calfe in that same noble feat,
Much like to you, for you haue iust his bleat.
Enter brother, Hero, Beatrice, Margaret, Vrsula.

  Cla. For this I owe you: here comes other recknings.
Which is the Lady I must seize vpon?
  Leo. This same is she, and I doe giue you her

   Cla. Why then she's mine, sweet let me see your face

   Leon. No that you shal not, till you take her hand,
Before this Frier, and sweare to marry her

   Clau. Giue me your hand before this holy Frier,
I am your husband if you like of me

   Hero. And when I liu'd I was your other wife,
And when you lou'd, you were my other husband

   Clau. Another Hero?
  Hero. Nothing certainer.
One Hero died, but I doe liue,
And surely as I liue, I am a maid

   Prin. The former Hero, Hero that is dead

   Leon. Shee died my Lord, but whiles her slander liu'd

   Frier. All this amazement can I qualifie,
When after that the holy rites are ended,
Ile tell you largely of faire Heroes death:
Meane time let wonder seeme familiar,
And to the chappell let vs presently

   Ben. Soft and faire Frier, which is Beatrice?
  Beat. I answer to that name, what is your will?
  Bene. Doe not you loue me?
  Beat. Why no, no more then reason

   Bene. Why then your Vncle, and the Prince, & Claudio,
haue beene deceiued, they swore you did

   Beat. Doe not you loue mee?
  Bene. Troth no, no more then reason

   Beat. Why then my Cosin Margaret and Vrsula
Are much deceiu'd, for they did sweare you did

   Bene. They swore you were almost sicke for me

   Beat. They swore you were wel-nye dead for me

   Bene. 'Tis no matter, then you doe not loue me?
  Beat. No truly, but in friendly recompence

   Leon. Come Cosin, I am sure you loue the gentlema[n]

   Clau. And Ile be sworne vpon't, that he loues her,
For heres a paper written in his hand,
A halting sonnet of his owne pure braine,
Fashioned to Beatrice

   Hero. And heeres another,
Writ in my cosins hand, stolne from her pocket,
Containing her affection vnto Benedicke

   Bene. A miracle, here's our owne hands against our
hearts: come I will haue thee, but by this light I take
thee for pittie

   Beat. I would not denie you, but by this good day, I
yeeld vpon great perswasion, & partly to saue your life,
for I was told, you were in a consumption

   Leon. Peace I will stop your mouth

   Prin. How dost thou Benedicke the married man?
  Bene. Ile tell thee what Prince: a Colledge of witte-crackers
cannot flout mee out of my humour, dost thou
think I care for a Satyre or an Epigram? no, if a man will
be beaten with braines, a shall weare nothing handsome
about him: in briefe, since I do purpose to marry, I will
thinke nothing to any purpose that the world can say against
it, and therefore neuer flout at me, for I haue said
against it: for man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion:
for thy part Claudio, I did thinke to haue beaten
thee, but in that thou art like to be my kinsman, liue vnbruis'd,
and loue my cousin

   Cla. I had well hop'd y wouldst haue denied Beatrice, y
I might haue cudgel'd thee out of thy single life, to make
thee a double dealer, which out of questio[n] thou wilt be,
if my Cousin do not looke exceeding narrowly to thee

   Bene. Come, come, we are friends, let's haue a dance
ere we are married, that we may lighten our own hearts,
and our wiues heeles

   Leon. Wee'll haue dancing afterward

   Bene. First, of my word, therfore play musick. Prince,
thou art sad, get thee a wife, get thee a wife, there is no
staff more reuerend then one tipt with horn.
Enter. Mes.

  Messen. My Lord, your brother Iohn is tane in flight,
And brought with armed men backe to Messina

   Bene. Thinke not on him till to morrow, ile deuise
thee braue punishments for him: strike vp Pipers.

Dance.

FINIS. Much adoe about Nothing.

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

completion: Still in Gloucestershire, Falstaff eats a merry dinner with Justice Shallow and Justice Silence, as well as Bardolph, Davy, and Falstaff's page. The group enjoys itself enormously, devouring good country fruit and meat, drinking wine, and laughing. Justice Silence surprises Falstaff by becoming very noisy: he is tipsy, and as a result sings snatches of hearty, old-fashioned songs throughout the meal. When Falstaff comments on this approvingly, Silence tells him that there is nothing to be surprised at--he has been cheerful three times already in his life. An unexpected messenger arrives: Ancient Pistol enters, bringing news from the court in London. As usual, his meaning is buried under elaborate but muddled dramatic references. But his news finally comes out: old King Henry IV is dead, and Prince Hal is now King Henry V. Naturally, Falstaff and his friends assume that Falstaff will now be in a position of great comfort and power, since he is the closest friend of the former Prince. Falstaff generously offers all his friends high positions in the court, and he calls for his horse: he, Pistol, Bardolph, and Shallow will ride all night to reach London as soon as they can. Justice Silence, who seems to have succumbed to the effects of the wine, is dragged off to bed. Meanwhile, on a street in London, two beadles  appear, dragging with them the prostitute Doll Tearsheet and Mistress Quickly from the Boar's Head Tavern. The Hostess and Doll are struggling against the lawmen and cursing them; Doll's insults are especially impressive and seem to come close to unmanning the beadles. Apparently, a man whom Pistol beat up while in their company has died, so they are being dragged off to jail--probably for a punishment such as whipping but possibly for execution. Doll claims to be pregnant , but the beadle answers that she is lying and has merely padded her belly with a cushion. The Hostess wishes that Falstaff were there, since he would show those beadles a thing or two. But the women cannot free themselves and are dragged off to see a justice.


prompt:
Chapter: Actus primus. Scene 1.

Enter Leonato Gouernour of Messina, Innogen his wife, Hero his
daughter,
and Beatrice his Neece, with a messenger.

  Leonato. I learne in this Letter, that Don Peter of Arragon,
comes this night to Messina

   Mess. He is very neere by this: he was not
three Leagues off when I left him

   Leon. How many Gentlemen haue you lost in this
action?
  Mess. But few of any sort, and none of name

   Leon. A victorie is twice it selfe, when the atchieuer
brings home full numbers: I finde heere, that Don Peter
hath bestowed much honor on a yong Florentine, called
Claudio

   Mess. Much deseru'd on his part, and equally remembred
by Don Pedro, he hath borne himselfe beyond the
promise of his age, doing in the figure of a Lambe, the
feats of a Lion, he hath indeede better bettred expectation,
then you must expect of me to tell you how

   Leo. He hath an Vnckle heere in Messina, wil be very
much glad of it

   Mess. I haue alreadie deliuered him letters, and there
appeares much ioy in him, euen so much, that ioy could
not shew it selfe modest enough, without a badg of bitternesse

   Leo. Did he breake out into teares?
  Mess. In great measure

   Leo. A kinde ouerflow of kindnesse, there are no faces
truer, then those that are so wash'd, how much better
is it to weepe at ioy, then to ioy at weeping?
  Bea. I pray you, is Signior Mountanto return'd from
the warres, or no?
  Mess. I know none of that name, Lady, there was
none such in the armie of any sort

   Leon. What is he that you aske for Neece?
  Hero. My cousin meanes Signior Benedick of Padua
  Mess. O he's return'd, and as pleasant as euer he was

   Beat. He set vp his bils here in Messina, & challeng'd
Cupid at the Flight: and my Vnckles foole reading the
Challenge, subscrib'd for Cupid, and challeng'd him at
the Burbolt. I pray you, how many hath hee kil'd and
eaten in these warres? But how many hath he kil'd? for
indeed, I promis'd to eate all of his killing

   Leon. 'Faith Neece, you taxe Signior Benedicke too
much, but hee'l be meete with you, I doubt it not

   Mess. He hath done good seruice Lady in these wars

   Beat. You had musty victuall, and he hath holpe to
ease it: he's a very valiant Trencher-man, hee hath an
excellent stomacke

   Mess. And a good souldier too Lady

   Beat. And a good souldier to a Lady. But what is he
to a Lord?
  Mess. A Lord to a Lord, a man to a man, stuft with
all honourable vertues

   Beat. It is so indeed, he is no lesse then a stuft man:
but for the stuffing well, we are all mortall

   Leon. You must not (sir) mistake my Neece, there is
a kind of merry war betwixt Signior Benedick, & her:
they neuer meet, but there's a skirmish of wit between
them

   Bea. Alas, he gets nothing by that. In our last conflict,
foure of his fiue wits went halting off, and now is
the whole man gouern'd with one: so that if hee haue
wit enough to keepe himselfe warme, let him beare it
for a difference betweene himselfe and his horse: For it
is all the wealth that he hath left, to be knowne a reasonable
creature. Who is his companion now? He hath
euery month a new sworne brother

   Mess. Is't possible?
  Beat. Very easily possible: he weares his faith but as
the fashion of his hat, it euer changes with y next block

   Mess. I see (Lady) the Gentleman is not in your
bookes

   Bea. No, and he were, I would burne my study. But
I pray you, who is his companion? Is there no young
squarer now, that will make a voyage with him to the
diuell?
  Mess. He is most in the company of the right noble
Claudio

   Beat. O Lord, he will hang vpon him like a disease:
he is sooner caught then the pestilence, and the taker
runs presently mad. God helpe the noble Claudio, if hee
haue caught the Benedict, it will cost him a thousand
pound ere he be cur'd

   Mess. I will hold friends with you Lady

   Bea. Do good friend

   Leo. You'l ne're run mad Neece

   Bea. No, not till a hot Ianuary

   Mess. Don Pedro is approach'd.

Enter don Pedro, Claudio, Benedicke, Balthasar, and Iohn the
bastard.

  Pedro. Good Signior Leonato, you are come to meet
your trouble: the fashion of the world is to auoid cost,
and you encounter it

   Leon. Neuer came trouble to my house in the likenes
of your Grace: for trouble being gone, comfort should
remaine: but when you depart from me, sorrow abides,
and happinesse takes his leaue

   Pedro. You embrace your charge too willingly: I
thinke this is your daughter

   Leonato. Her mother hath many times told me so

   Bened. Were you in doubt that you askt her?
  Leonato. Signior Benedicke, no, for then were you a
childe

   Pedro. You haue it full Benedicke, we may ghesse by
this, what you are, being a man, truely the Lady fathers
her selfe: be happie Lady, for you are like an honorable
father

   Ben. If Signior Leonato be her father, she would not
haue his head on her shoulders for al Messina, as like him
as she is

   Beat. I wonder that you will still be talking, signior
Benedicke, no body markes you

   Ben. What my deere Ladie Disdaine! are you yet
liuing?
  Beat. Is it possible Disdaine should die, while shee
hath such meete foode to feede it, as Signior Benedicke?
Curtesie it selfe must conuert to Disdaine, if you come in
her presence

   Bene. Then is curtesie a turne-coate, but it is certaine
I am loued of all Ladies, onely you excepted: and
I would I could finde in my heart that I had not a hard
heart, for truely I loue none

   Beat. A deere happinesse to women, they would else
haue beene troubled with a pernitious Suter, I thanke
God and my cold blood, I am of your humour for that, I
had rather heare my Dog barke at a Crow, than a man
sweare he loues me

   Bene. God keepe your Ladiship still in that minde,
so some Gentleman or other shall scape a predestinate
scratcht face

   Beat. Scratching could not make it worse, and 'twere
such a face as yours were

   Bene. Well, you are a rare Parrat teacher

   Beat. A bird of my tongue, is better than a beast of
your

   Ben. I would my horse had the speed of your tongue,
and so good a continuer, but keepe your way a Gods
name, I haue done

   Beat. You alwaies end with a Iades tricke, I know
you of old

   Pedro. This is the summe of all: Leonato, signior Claudio,
and signior Benedicke; my deere friend Leonato, hath
inuited you all, I tell him we shall stay here, at the least
a moneth, and he heartily praies some occasion may detaine
vs longer: I dare sweare hee is no hypocrite, but
praies from his heart

   Leon. If you sweare, my Lord, you shall not be forsworne,
let mee bid you welcome, my Lord, being reconciled
to the Prince your brother: I owe you all
duetie

   Iohn. I thanke you, I am not of many words, but I
thanke you

   Leon. Please it your grace leade on?
  Pedro. Your hand Leonato, we will goe together.

Exeunt. Manet Benedicke and Claudio.

  Clau. Benedicke, didst thou note the daughter of signior
Leonato?
  Bene. I noted her not, but I lookt on her

   Claud. Is she not a modest yong Ladie?
  Bene. Doe you question me as an honest man should
doe, for my simple true iudgement? or would you haue
me speake after my custome, as being a professed tyrant
to their sexe?
  Clau. No, I pray thee speake in sober iudgement

   Bene. Why yfaith me thinks shee's too low for a hie
praise, too browne for a faire praise, and too little for a
great praise, onely this commendation I can affoord her,
that were shee other then she is, she were vnhandsome,
and being no other, but as she is, I doe not like her

   Clau. Thou think'st I am in sport, I pray thee tell me
truely how thou lik'st her

   Bene. Would you buie her, that you enquier after
her?
  Clau. Can the world buie such a iewell?
  Ben. Yea, and a case to put it into, but speake you this
with a sad brow? Or doe you play the flowting iacke, to
tell vs Cupid is a good Hare-finder, and Vulcan a rare
Carpenter: Come, in what key shall a man take you to
goe in the song?
  Clau. In mine eie, she is the sweetest Ladie that euer
I lookt on

   Bene. I can see yet without spectacles, and I see no
such matter: there's her cosin, and she were not possest
with a furie, exceedes her as much in beautie, as the first
of Maie doth the last of December: but I hope you haue
no intent to turne husband, haue you?
  Clau. I would scarce trust my selfe, though I had
sworne the contrarie, if Hero would be my wife

   Bene. Ist come to this? in faith hath not the world one
man but he will weare his cap with suspition? shall I neuer
see a batcheller of three score againe? goe to yfaith,
and thou wilt needes thrust thy necke into a yoke, weare
the print of it, and sigh away sundaies: looke, don Pedro
is returned to seeke you.

Enter don Pedro, Iohn the bastard.

  Pedr. What secret hath held you here, that you followed
not to Leonatoes?
  Bened. I would your Grace would constraine mee to
tell

   Pedro. I charge thee on thy allegeance

   Ben. You heare, Count Claudio, I can be secret as a
dumbe man, I would haue you thinke so (but on my allegiance,
marke you this, on my allegiance) hee is in
loue, With who? now that is your Graces part: marke
how short his answere is, with Hero, Leonatoes short
daughter

   Clau. If this were so, so were it vttred

   Bened. Like the old tale, my Lord, it is not so, nor 'twas
not so: but indeede, God forbid it should be so

   Clau. If my passion change not shortly, God forbid it
should be otherwise

   Pedro. Amen, if you loue her, for the Ladie is verie
well worthie

   Clau. You speake this to fetch me in, my Lord

   Pedr. By my troth I speake my thought

   Clau. And in faith, my Lord, I spoke mine

   Bened. And by my two faiths and troths, my Lord, I
speake mine

   Clau. That I loue her, I feele

   Pedr. That she is worthie, I know

   Bened. That I neither feele how shee should be loued,
nor know how shee should be worthie, is the
opinion that fire cannot melt out of me, I will die in it at
the stake

   Pedr. Thou wast euer an obstinate heretique in the despight
of Beautie

   Clau. And neuer could maintaine his part, but in the
force of his will
  Ben. That a woman conceiued me, I thanke her: that
she brought mee vp, I likewise giue her most humble
thankes: but that I will haue a rechate winded in my
forehead, or hang my bugle in an inuisible baldricke, all
women shall pardon me: because I will not do them the
wrong to mistrust any, I will doe my selfe the right to
trust none: and the fine is, (for the which I may goe the
finer) I will liue a Batchellor

   Pedro. I shall see thee ere I die, looke pale with loue

   Bene. With anger, with sicknesse, or with hunger,
my Lord, not with loue: proue that euer I loose more
blood with loue, then I will get againe with drinking,
picke out mine eyes with a Ballet-makers penne, and
hang me vp at the doore of a brothel-house for the signe
of blinde Cupid

   Pedro. Well, if euer thou doost fall from this faith,
thou wilt proue a notable argument

   Bene. If I do, hang me in a bottle like a Cat, & shoot
at me, and he that hit's me, let him be clapt on the shoulder,
and cal'd Adam

   Pedro. Well, as time shall trie: In time the sauage
Bull doth beare the yoake

   Bene. The sauage bull may, but if euer the sensible
Benedicke beare it, plucke off the bulles hornes, and set
them in my forehead, and let me be vildely painted, and
in such great Letters as they write, heere is good horse
to hire: let them signifie vnder my signe, here you may
see Benedicke the married man

   Clau. If this should euer happen, thou wouldst bee
horne mad

   Pedro. Nay, if Cupid haue not spent all his Quiuer in
Venice, thou wilt quake for this shortly

   Bene. I looke for an earthquake too then

   Pedro. Well, you will temporize with the houres, in
the meane time, good Signior Benedicke, repaire to Leonatoes,
commend me to him, and tell him I will not faile
him at supper, for indeede he hath made great preparation

   Bene. I haue almost matter enough in me for such an
Embassage, and so I commit you

   Clau. To the tuition of God. From my house, if I
had it

   Pedro. The sixt of Iuly. Your louing friend, Benedick

   Bene. Nay mocke not, mocke not; the body of your
discourse is sometime guarded with fragments, and the
guardes are but slightly basted on neither, ere you flout
old ends any further, examine your conscience, and so I
leaue you.

Enter.

  Clau. My Liege, your Highnesse now may doe mee
good

   Pedro. My loue is thine to teach, teach it but how,
And thou shalt see how apt it is to learne
Any hard Lesson that may do thee good

   Clau. Hath Leonato any sonne my Lord?
  Pedro. No childe but Hero, she's his onely heire.
Dost thou affect her Claudio?
  Clau. O my Lord,
When you went onward on this ended action,
I look'd vpon her with a souldiers eie,
That lik'd, but had a rougher taske in hand,
Than to driue liking to the name of loue:
But now I am return'd, and that warre-thoughts
Haue left their places vacant: in their roomes,
Come thronging soft and delicate desires,
All prompting mee how faire yong Hero is,
Saying I lik'd her ere I went to warres

   Pedro. Thou wilt be like a louer presently,
And tire the hearer with a booke of words:
If thou dost loue faire Hero, cherish it,
And I will breake with her: wast not to this end,
That thou beganst to twist so fine a story?
  Clau. How sweetly doe you minister to loue,
That know loues griefe by his complexion!
But lest my liking might too sodaine seeme,
I would haue salu'd it with a longer treatise

   Ped. What need y bridge much broder then the flood?
The fairest graunt is the necessitie:
Looke what will serue, is fit: 'tis once, thou louest,
And I will fit thee with the remedie,
I know we shall haue reuelling to night,
I will assume thy part in some disguise,
And tell faire Hero I am Claudio,
And in her bosome Ile vnclaspe my heart,
And take her hearing prisoner with the force
And strong incounter of my amorous tale:
Then after, to her father will I breake,
And the conclusion is, shee shall be thine,
In practise let vs put it presently.

Exeunt.

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

completion: Induction - . Act I Scene 1 . Henry IV part 2 begins where Henry IV, part 1 left off. The battle of Shrewsbury has just been fought between the forces of the King and those of the rebels, led by Hotspur, the son of the Earl of Northumberland. The King's army triumphed. . The personified figure of Rumour enters. Rumour is spreading rumors that the battle in fact went the other way. According to Rumour, Prince Henry, the King's son, was killed by Hotspur . Rumour also spreads word that the King was killed in battle by Douglas, leader of the Scots. . Scene 1 opens in Northumberland's castle. Lord Bardolph arrives and Northumberland demands to know the news from the battle. Bardolph thinks the rebels have triumphed, and tells Northumberland that the King is mortally wounded, Prince Henry and other senior lords are dead, and that Prince John, also fighting on the king's side, fled the battle, along with Westmoreland and Stafford. . Bardolph admits that he wasn't at the battle; he just spoke to someone who had come from it. . Travers, Northumberland's servant, enters with quite different news that he has learned from someone else who was at Shrewsbury. He says that Hotspur, Northumberland's son, was killed. Bardolph scoffs at this, and says it is not true. . Then Morton enters. He has come direct from Shrewsbury, and confirms the bad news that Hotspur is dead. He saw with his own eyes Prince Henry kill Hotspur, after which the other rebels, dismayed at losing their leader, fled from the battlefield. Worcester and Douglas have been taken prisoner. The King has now sent an army under the command of Prince John of Lancaster and Westmoreland, to attack Northumberland. . Northumberland is grief-stricken at the news of the loss of his son and he whips himself up into a passionate, despairing, warlike mood. Bardolph and Morton try to persuade him not to lose his head, but to remain calm. Morton points out that when Northumberland first raised the rebel army, he knew there was a chance that his son would be killed. What has now happened is no more than could have been reasonably expected. . Morton also brings the news that the Archbishop of York has raised an army that will fight on the side of the rebels. This gives greater force and legitimacy to the rebels' cause, since the Archbishop invokes the support of heaven. . Northumberland recovers his equilibrium and says they must plan how best to counter the King's army. .


prompt:
Chapter: Scene 2.

Enter Leonato and an old man, brother to Leonato.

  Leo. How now brother, where is my cosen your son:
hath he prouided this musicke?
  Old. He is very busie about it, but brother, I can tell
you newes that you yet dreamt not of

   Lo. Are they good?
  Old. As the euents stamps them, but they haue a good
couer: they shew well outward, the Prince and Count
Claudio walking in a thick pleached alley in my orchard,
were thus ouer-heard by a man of mine: the Prince discouered
to Claudio that hee loued my niece your daughter,
and meant to acknowledge it this night in a dance,
and if hee found her accordant, hee meant to take the
present time by the top, and instantly breake with you
of it

   Leo. Hath the fellow any wit that told you this?
  Old. A good sharpe fellow, I will send for him, and
question him your selfe

   Leo. No, no; wee will hold it as a dreame, till it appeare
it selfe: but I will acquaint my daughter withall,
that she may be the better prepared for an answer, if peraduenture
this bee true: goe you and tell her of it: coosins,
you know what you haue to doe, O I crie you mercie
friend, goe you with mee and I will vse your skill,
good cosin haue a care this busie time.

Exeunt.

Enter Sir Iohn the Bastard, and Conrade his companion.

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

completion: Sir John Falstaff enters with his boy page, joking about how small the boy is in comparison to himself, and commenting wittily on the doctor's verdict on his state of health. He then jokes about how young Prince Henry, his companion, is, and inquires about the new clothes he ordered. The page tells him that the clothier did not trust Falstaff's credit, and wanted better security. Falstaff replies with a stream of insults against the man. . The Lord Chief Justice enters, with his servant. He tries to speak to Falstaff, who at first pretends to be deaf. When the two men do speak, Falstaff is extravagantly polite and begs the Chief Justice to take good care of his health. . The Chief Justice rebukes Falstaff for not coming when he was sent for, before the battle of Shrewsbury. Falstaff tries to change the subject. When the Chief Justice presses him, saying there were serious accusations against him, Falstaff says he did not come because he was on military duty and therefore exempt from a civilian summons. . The Chief Justice grudgingly agrees to drop the matter because Falstaff has served at Shrewsbury, and this wipes out the part he played in a robbery at Gad's Hill . . The Chief Justice then complains that Falstaff is a bad influence  on the Prince, which Falstaff, with great verbal dexterity, denies, on the basis that he is too heavy to be the ill angel, which is light. After more verbal jousting, the Chief Justice informs Falstaff that he has been summoned for service with Prince John, against the armies of Northumberland and York. Falstaff indulges in some bravado, and the Chief Justice wishes him well on the expedition. Falstaff then has the cheek to ask the Chief Justice for a loan of a thousand pounds, which the Chief Justice refuses. After the Chief Justice exits, Falstaff complains about his lack of money, and resolves to profit from the war. .


prompt:
Chapter: Scene 3.

  Con. What the good yeere my Lord, why are you
thus out of measure sad?
  Ioh. There is no measure in the occasion that breeds,
therefore the sadnesse is without limit

   Con. You should heare reason

   Iohn. And when I haue heard it, what blessing bringeth
it?
  Con. If not a present remedy, yet a patient sufferance

   Ioh. I wonder that thou (being as thou saist thou art,
borne vnder Saturne) goest about to apply a morall medicine,
to a mortifying mischiefe: I cannot hide what I
am: I must bee sad when I haue cause, and smile at no
mans iests, eat when I haue stomacke, and wait for no
mans leisure: sleepe when I am drowsie, and tend on no
mans businesse, laugh when I am merry, and claw no man
in his humor

   Con. Yea, but you must not make the ful show of this,
till you may doe it without controllment, you haue of
late stood out against your brother, and hee hath tane
you newly into his grace, where it is impossible you
should take root, but by the faire weather that you make
your selfe, it is needful that you frame the season for your
owne haruest

   Iohn. I had rather be a canker in a hedge, then a rose
in his grace, and it better fits my bloud to be disdain'd of
all, then to fashion a carriage to rob loue from any: in this
(though I cannot be said to be a flattering honest man)
it must not be denied but I am a plaine dealing villaine, I
am trusted with a mussell, and enfranchisde with a clog,
therefore I haue decreed, not to sing in my cage: if I had
my mouth, I would bite: if I had my liberty, I would do
my liking: in the meane time, let me be that I am, and
seeke not to alter me

   Con. Can you make no vse of your discontent?
  Iohn. I will make all vse of it, for I vse it onely.
Who comes here? what newes Borachio?

Enter Borachio.

  Bor. I came yonder from a great supper, the Prince
your brother is royally entertained by Leonato, and I can
giue you intelligence of an intended marriage

   Iohn. Will it serue for any Modell to build mischiefe
on? What is hee for a foole that betrothes himselfe to
vnquietnesse?
  Bor. Mary it is your brothers right hand

   Iohn. Who, the most exquisite Claudio?
  Bor. Euen he

   Iohn. A proper squier, and who, and who, which way
lookes he?
  Bor. Mary on Hero, the daughter and Heire of Leonato

   Iohn. A very forward March-chicke, how came you
to this:
  Bor. Being entertain'd for a perfumer, as I was smoaking
a musty roome, comes me the Prince and Claudio,
hand in hand in sad conference: I whipt behind the Arras,
and there heard it agreed vpon, that the Prince should
wooe Hero for himselfe, and hauing obtain'd her, giue
her to Count Claudio

   Iohn. Come, come, let vs thither, this may proue food
to my displeasure, that young start-vp hath all the glorie
of my ouerthrow: if I can crosse him any way, I blesse
my selfe euery way, you are both sure, and will assist
mee?
  Conr. To the death my Lord

   Iohn. Let vs to the great supper, their cheere is the
greater that I am subdued, would the Cooke were of my
minde: shall we goe proue whats to be done?
  Bor. Wee'll wait vpon your Lordship.

Exeunt.

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

completion: At the Archbishop of York's palace, the rebels discuss their hopes and plans. They have an army of 25,000 men, and are waiting to be strengthened by the addition of Northumberland's forces. Bardolph advises them to wait until those forces arrive before venturing into a battle. Not waiting for reinforcements was the mistake Hotspur had made at Shrewsbury. Bardolph advises a careful, sober calculation of the situation. He does not want to take unnecessary risks by imagining that their forces are stronger than they really are. Hastings replies that he thinks they are strong enough as they are, even if no extra forces come, to equal the King. He argues that the King's forces are divided. One army is engaged against the French, another against the Welsh rebel, Glendower. The Archbishop supports Hastings and advises the rebels to move forward. He and Hastings carry the day, and the rebels begin their preparations. .


prompt:
Chapter: Actus Secundus. Scene 1.

Enter Leonato, his brother, his wife, Hero his daughter, and
Beatrice his
neece, and a kinsman.

  Leonato. Was not Count Iohn here at supper?
  Brother. I saw him not

   Beatrice. How tartly that Gentleman lookes, I neuer
can see him, but I am heart-burn'd an howre after

   Hero. He is of a very melancholy disposition

   Beatrice. Hee were an excellent man that were made
iust in the mid-way betweene him and Benedicke, the one
is too like an image and saies nothing, and the other too
like my Ladies eldest sonne, euermore tatling

   Leon. Then halfe signior Benedicks tongue in Count
Iohns mouth, and halfe Count Iohns melancholy in Signior
Benedicks face

   Beat. With a good legge, and a good foot vnckle, and
money enough in his purse, such a man would winne any
woman in the world, if he could get her good will

   Leon. By my troth Neece, thou wilt neuer get thee a
husband, if thou be so shrewd of thy tongue

   Brother. Infaith shee's too curst

   Beat. Too curst is more then curst, I shall lessen Gods
sending that way: for it is said, God sends a curst Cow
short hornes, but to a Cow too curst he sends none

   Leon. So, by being too curst, God will send you no
hornes

   Beat. Iust, if he send me no husband, for the which
blessing, I am at him vpon my knees euery morning and
euening: Lord, I could not endure a husband with a
beard on his face, I had rather lie in the woollen

   Leonato. You may light vpon a husband that hath no
beard

   Beatrice. What should I doe with him? dresse him in
my apparell, and make him my waiting gentlewoman? he
that hath a beard, is more then a youth: and he that hath
no beard, is lesse then a man: and hee that is more then a
youth, is not for mee: and he that is lesse then a man, I am
not for him: therefore I will euen take sixepence in earnest
of the Berrord, and leade his Apes into hell

   Leon. Well then, goe you into hell

   Beat. No, but to the gate, and there will the Deuill
meete mee like an old Cuckold with hornes on his head,
and say, get you to heauen Beatrice, get you to heauen,
heere's no place for you maids, so deliuer I vp my Apes,
and away to S[aint]. Peter: for the heauens, hee shewes mee
where the Batchellers sit, and there liue wee as merry as
the day is long

   Brother. Well neece, I trust you will be rul'd by your
father

   Beatrice. Yes faith, it is my cosens dutie to make curtsie,
and say, as it please you: but yet for all that cosin, let
him be a handsome fellow, or else make an other cursie,
and say, father, as it please me

   Leonato. Well neece, I hope to see you one day fitted
with a husband

   Beatrice. Not till God make men of some other mettall
then earth, would it not grieue a woman to be ouermastred
with a peece of valiant dust: to make account of
her life to a clod of waiward marle? no vnckle, ile none:
Adams sonnes are my brethren, and truly I hold it a sinne
to match in my kinred

   Leon. Daughter, remember what I told you, if the
Prince doe solicit you in that kinde, you know your answere

   Beatrice. The fault will be in the musicke cosin, if you
be not woed in good time: if the Prince bee too important,
tell him there is measure in euery thing, & so dance
out the answere, for heare me Hero, wooing, wedding, &
repenting, is as a Scotch jigge, a measure, and a cinquepace:
the first suite is hot and hasty like a Scotch jigge
(and full as fantasticall) the wedding manerly modest,
(as a measure) full of state & aunchentry, and then comes
repentance, and with his bad legs falls into the cinquepace
faster and faster, till he sinkes into his graue

   Leonato. Cosin you apprehend passing shrewdly

   Beatrice. I haue a good eye vnckle, I can see a Church
by daylight

   Leon. The reuellers are entring brother, make good
roome.
Enter Prince, Pedro, Claudio, and Benedicke, and Balthasar, or
dumbe Iohn,
Maskers with a drum.

  Pedro. Lady, will you walke about with your friend?
  Hero. So you walke softly, and looke sweetly, and say
nothing, I am yours for the walke, and especially when I
walke away

   Pedro. With me in your company

   Hero. I may say so when I please

   Pedro. And when please you to say so?
  Hero. When I like your fauour, for God defend the
Lute should be like the case

   Pedro. My visor is Philemons roofe, within the house
is Loue

   Hero. Why then your visor should be thatcht

   Pedro. Speake low if you speake Loue

   Bene. Well, I would you did like me

   Mar. So would not I for your owne sake, for I haue
manie ill qualities

   Bene. Which is one?
  Mar. I say my prayers alowd

   Ben. I loue you the better, the hearers may cry Amen

   Mar. God match me with a good dauncer

   Balt. Amen

   Mar. And God keepe him out of my sight when the
daunce is done: answer Clarke

   Balt. No more words, the Clarke is answered

   Vrsula. I know you well enough, you are Signior Anthonio

   Anth. At a word, I am not

   Vrsula. I know you by the wagling of your head

   Anth. To tell you true, I counterfet him

   Vrsu. You could neuer doe him so ill well, vnlesse
you were the very man: here's his dry hand vp & down,
you are he, you are he

   Anth. At a word I am not

   Vrsula. Come, come, doe you thinke I doe not know
you by your excellent wit? can vertue hide it selfe? goe
to mumme, you are he, graces will appeare, and there's
an end

   Beat. Will you not tell me who told you so?
  Bene. No, you shall pardon me

   Beat. Nor will you not tell me who you are?
  Bened. Not now

   Beat. That I was disdainfull, and that I had my good
wit out of the hundred merry tales: well, this was Signior
Benedicke that said so

   Bene. What's he?
  Beat. I am sure you know him well enough

   Bene. Not I, beleeue me

   Beat. Did he neuer make you laugh?
  Bene. I pray you what is he?
  Beat. Why he is the Princes ieaster, a very dull foole,
onely his gift is, in deuising impossible slanders, none
but Libertines delight in him, and the commendation is
not in his witte, but in his villanie, for hee both pleaseth
men and angers them, and then they laugh at him, and
beat him: I am sure he is in the Fleet, I would he had
boorded me

   Bene. When I know the Gentleman, Ile tell him what
you say

   Beat. Do, do, hee'l but breake a comparison or two
on me, which peraduenture (not markt, or not laugh'd
at) strikes him into melancholly, and then there's a Partridge
wing saued, for the foole will eate no supper that
night. We must follow the Leaders

   Ben. In euery good thing

   Bea. Nay, if they leade to any ill, I will leaue them
at the next turning.

Exeunt.

Musicke for the dance.

  Iohn. Sure my brother is amorous on Hero, and hath
withdrawne her father to breake with him about it: the
Ladies follow her, and but one visor remaines

   Borachio. And that is Claudio, I know him by his bearing

   Iohn. Are not you signior Benedicke?
  Clau. You know me well, I am hee

   Iohn. Signior, you are verie neere my Brother in his
loue, he is enamor'd on Hero, I pray you disswade him
from her, she is no equall for his birth: you may do the
part of an honest man in it

   Claudio. How know you he loues her?
  Iohn. I heard him sweare his affection

   Bor. So did I too, and he swore he would marrie her
to night

   Iohn. Come, let vs to the banquet.

Ex. manet Clau.

  Clau. Thus answere I in name of Benedicke,
But heare these ill newes with the eares of Claudio:
'Tis certaine so, the Prince woes for himselfe:
Friendship is constant in all other things,
Saue in the Office and affaires of loue:
Therefore all hearts in loue vse their owne tongues.
Let euerie eye negotiate for it selfe,
And trust no Agent: for beautie is a witch,
Against whose charmes, faith melteth into blood:
This is an accident of hourely proofe,
Which I mistrusted not. Farewell therefore Hero.
Enter Benedicke.

  Ben. Count Claudio

   Clau. Yea, the same

   Ben. Come, will you goe with me?
  Clau. Whither?
  Ben. Euen to the next Willow, about your own businesse,
Count. What fashion will you weare the Garland
off? About your necke, like an Vsurers chaine? Or
vnder your arme, like a Lieutenants scarfe? You must
weare it one way, for the Prince hath got your Hero

   Clau . I wish him ioy of her

   Ben. Why that's spoken like an honest Drouier, so
they sel Bullockes: but did you thinke the Prince wold
haue serued you thus?
  Clau. I pray you leaue me

   Ben. Ho now you strike like the blindman, 'twas the
boy that stole your meate, and you'l beat the post

   Clau. If it will not be, Ile leaue you.
Enter.

  Ben. Alas poore hurt fowle, now will he creepe into
sedges: But that my Ladie Beatrice should know me, &
not know me: the Princes foole! Hah? It may be I goe
vnder that title, because I am merrie: yea but so I am
apt to do my selfe wrong: I am not so reputed, it is the
base (though bitter) disposition of Beatrice, that putt's
the world into her person, and so giues me out: well, Ile
be reuenged as I may.
Enter the Prince.

  Pedro. Now Signior, where's the Count, did you
see him?
  Bene. Troth my Lord, I haue played the part of Lady
Fame, I found him heere as melancholy as a Lodge in a
Warren, I told him, and I thinke, told him true, that your
grace had got the will of this young Lady, and I offered
him my company to a willow tree, either to make him a
garland, as being forsaken, or to binde him a rod, as being
worthy to be whipt

   Pedro. To be whipt, what's his fault?
  Bene. The flat transgression of a Schoole-boy, who
being ouer-ioyed with finding a birds nest, shewes it his
companion, and he steales it

   Pedro. Wilt thou make a trust, a transgression? the
transgression is in the stealer

   Ben. Yet it had not been amisse the rod had beene
made, and the garland too, for the garland he might haue
worne himselfe, and the rod hee might haue bestowed on
you, who (as I take it) haue stolne his birds nest

   Pedro. I will but teach them to sing, and restore them
to the owner

   Bene. If their singing answer your saying, by my faith
you say honestly

   Pedro. The Lady Beatrice hath a quarrell to you, the
Gentleman that daunst with her, told her shee is much
wrong'd by you

   Bene. O she misusde me past the indurance of a block:
an oake but with one greene leafe on it, would haue answered
her: my very visor began to assume life, and scold
with her: shee told mee, not thinking I had beene my
selfe, that I was the Princes Iester, and that I was duller
then a great thaw, hudling iest vpon iest, with such impossible
conueiance vpon me, that I stood like a man at a
marke, with a whole army shooting at me: shee speakes
poynyards, and euery word stabbes: if her breath were
as terrible as terminations, there were no liuing neere
her, she would infect to the north starre: I would not
marry her, though she were indowed with all that Adam
had left him before he transgrest, she would haue made
  Hercules haue turnd spit, yea, and haue cleft his club to
make the fire too: come, talke not of her, you shall finde
her the infernall Ate in good apparell. I would to God
some scholler would coniure her, for certainely while she
is heere, a man may liue as quiet in hell, as in a sanctuary,
and people sinne vpon purpose, because they would goe
thither, so indeed all disquiet, horror, and perturbation
followes her.
Enter Claudio and Beatrice, Leonato, Hero.

  Pedro. Looke heere she comes

   Bene. Will your Grace command mee any seruice to
the worlds end? I will goe on the slightest arrand now
to the Antypodes that you can deuise to send me on: I
will fetch you a tooth-picker now from the furthest inch
of Asia: bring you the length of Prester Iohns foot: fetch
you a hayre off the great Chams beard: doe you any embassage
to the Pigmies, rather then hould three words
conference, with this Harpy: you haue no employment
for me?
  Pedro. None, but to desire your good company

   Bene. O God sir, heeres a dish I loue not, I cannot indure
this Lady tongue.
Enter.

  Pedr. Come Lady, come, you haue lost the heart of
Signior Benedicke

   Beatr. Indeed my Lord, hee lent it me a while, and I
gaue him vse for it, a double heart for a single one, marry
once before he wonne it of mee, with false dice, therefore
your Grace may well say I haue lost it

   Pedro. You haue put him downe Lady, you haue put
him downe

   Beat. So I would not he should do me, my Lord, lest
I should prooue the mother of fooles: I haue brought
Count Claudio, whom you sent me to seeke

   Pedro. Why how now Count, wherfore are you sad?
  Claud. Not sad my Lord

   Pedro. How then? sicke?
  Claud. Neither, my Lord

   Beat. The Count is neither sad, nor sicke, nor merry,
nor well: but ciuill Count, ciuill as an Orange, and something
of a iealous complexion

   Pedro. Ifaith Lady, I thinke your blazon to be true.
though Ile be sworne, if hee be so, his conceit is false:
heere Claudio, I haue wooed in thy name, and faire Hero
is won, I haue broke with her father, and his good will
obtained, name the day of marriage, and God giue
thee ioy

   Leona. Count, take of me my daughter, and with her
my fortunes: his grace hath made the match, & all grace
say, Amen to it

   Beatr. Speake Count, tis your Qu

   Claud. Silence is the perfectest Herault of ioy, I were
but little happy if I could say, how much? Lady, as you
are mine, I am yours, I giue away my selfe for you, and
doat vpon the exchange

   Beat. Speake cosin, or (if you cannot) stop his mouth
with a kisse, and let not him speake neither

   Pedro. In faith Lady you haue a merry heart

   Beatr. Yea my Lord I thanke it, poore foole it keepes
on the windy side of Care, my coosin tells him in his eare
that he is in my heart

   Clau. And so she doth coosin

   Beat. Good Lord for alliance: thus goes euery one
to the world but I, and I am sun-burn'd, I may sit in a corner
and cry, heigh ho for a husband

   Pedro. Lady Beatrice, I will get you one

   Beat. I would rather haue one of your fathers getting:
hath your Grace ne're a brother like you? your father
got excellent husbands, if a maid could come by them

   Prince. Will you haue me? Lady

   Beat. No, my Lord, vnlesse I might haue another for
working-daies, your Grace is too costly to weare euerie
day: but I beseech your Grace pardon mee, I was borne
to speake all mirth, and no matter

   Prince. Your silence most offends me, and to be merry,
best becomes you, for out of question, you were born
in a merry howre

   Beatr. No sure my Lord, my Mother cried, but then
there was a starre daunst, and vnder that was I borne: cosins
God giue you ioy

   Leonato. Neece, will you looke to those things I told
you of?
  Beat. I cry you mercy Vncle, by your Graces pardon.

Exit Beatrice.

  Prince. By my troth a pleasant spirited Lady

   Leon. There's little of the melancholy element in her
my Lord, she is neuer sad, but when she sleepes, and not
euer sad then: for I haue heard my daughter say, she hath
often dreamt of vnhappinesse, and wakt her selfe with
laughing

   Pedro. Shee cannot indure to heare tell of a husband

   Leonato. O, by no meanes, she mocks all her wooers
out of suite

   Prince. She were an excellent wife for Benedick

   Leonato. O Lord, my Lord, if they were but a weeke
married, they would talke themselues madde

   Prince. Counte Claudio, when meane you to goe to
Church?
  Clau. To morrow my Lord, Time goes on crutches,
till Loue haue all his rites

   Leonato. Not till monday, my deare sonne, which is
hence a iust seuen night, and a time too briefe too, to haue
all things answer minde

   Prince. Come, you shake the head at so long a breathing,
but I warrant thee Claudio, the time shall not goe
dully by vs, I will in the interim, vndertake one of Hercules
labors, which is, to bring Signior Benedicke and the
Lady Beatrice into a mountaine of affection, th' one with
th' other, I would faine haue it a match, and I doubt not
but to fashion it, if you three will but minister such assistance
as I shall giue you direction

   Leonato. My Lord, I am for you, though it cost mee
ten nights watchings

   Claud. And I my Lord

   Prin. And you to gentle Hero?
  Hero. I will doe any modest office, my Lord, to helpe
my cosin to a good husband

   Prin. And Benedick is not the vnhopefullest husband
that I know: thus farre can I praise him, hee is of a noble
straine, of approued valour, and confirm'd honesty, I will
teach you how to humour your cosin, that shee shall fall
in loue with Benedicke, and I, with your two helpes, will
so practise on Benedicke, that in despight of his quicke
wit, and his queasie stomacke, hee shall fall in loue with
Beatrice: if wee can doe this, Cupid is no longer an Archer,
his glory shall be ours, for wee are the onely louegods,
goe in with me, and I will tell you my drift.
Enter.

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

completion: In Eastcheap, London, near the Boar's Head tavern, Hostess Quickly has persuaded two sergeants, Fang and Snare, to arrest Falstaff for his failure to pay her what he owes her. Falstaff enters with Bardolph and his page, and the men try to arrest him. Falstaff and Bardolph try to fight them off, and the Chief Justice enters and calls for the scuffle to stop. He rebukes Falstaff for brawling in the street, and hears Quickly's complaint. She says that not only does Falstaff owe her money, he also promised to marry her. Falstaff replies that Quickly is mad. He adds that Quickly has been saying around town that her eldest son looks like the Chief Justice . The Chief Justice doesn't allow Falstaff to deflect the charge, however, and orders him to pay Quickly what he owes her. After some more blustering, Falstaff takes Quickly aside for a moment. . Gower enters with the news that the King and Prince Henry are nearby. He hands a letter to the Chief Justice. . Meanwhile, Falstaff has used his charm on Hostess Quickly-so much so that she has agreed to lend him more money, even though it will mean she must pawn some of her belongings. . The Chief Justice listens to Gower explain the movements of the King's troops. The King has sent fifteen hundred men to join Prince John's forces that are readying to confront Northumberland. .


prompt:
Chapter: Scene 2.

Enter Iohn and Borachio.

  Ioh. It is so, the Count Claudio shal marry the daughter
of Leonato

   Bora. Yea my Lord, but I can crosse it

   Iohn. Any barre, any crosse, any impediment, will be
medicinable to me, I am sicke in displeasure to him, and
whatsoeuer comes athwart his affection, ranges euenly
with mine, how canst thou crosse this marriage?
  Bor. Not honestly my Lord, but so couertly, that no
dishonesty shall appeare in me

   Iohn. Shew me breefely how

   Bor. I thinke I told your Lordship a yeere since, how
much I am in the fauour of Margaret, the waiting gentlewoman
to Hero

   Iohn. I remember

   Bor. I can at any vnseasonable instant of the night,
appoint her to looke out at her Ladies chamber window

   Iohn. What life is in that, to be the death of this marriage?
  Bor. The poyson of that lies in you to temper, goe
you to the Prince your brother, spare not to tell him, that
hee hath wronged his Honor in marrying the renowned
Claudio, whose estimation do you mightily hold vp, to a
contaminated stale, such a one as Hero

   Iohn. What proofe shall I make of that?
  Bor. Proofe enough, to misuse the Prince, to vexe
Claudio, to vndoe Hero, and kill Leonato, looke you for any
other issue?
  Iohn. Onely to despight them, I will endeauour any
thing

   Bor. Goe then, finde me a meete howre, to draw on
Pedro and the Count Claudio alone, tell them that you
know that Hero loues me, intend a kinde of zeale both
to the Prince and Claudio (as in a loue of your brothers
honor who hath made this match) and his friends reputation,
who is thus like to be cosen'd with the semblance
of a maid, that you haue discouer'd thus: they will scarcely
beleeue this without triall: offer them instances which
shall beare no lesse likelihood, than to see mee at her
chamber window, heare me call Margaret, Hero; heare
Margaret terme me Claudio, and bring them to see this
the very night before the intended wedding, for in the
meane time, I will so fashion the matter, that Hero shall
be absent, and there shall appeare such seeming truths of
Heroes disloyaltie, that iealousie shall be cal'd assurance,
and all the preparation ouerthrowne

   Iohn. Grow this to what aduerse issue it can, I will
put it in practise: be cunning in the working this, and
thy fee is a thousand ducates

   Bor. Be thou constant in the accusation, and my cunning
shall not shame me

   Iohn. I will presentlie goe learne their day of marriage.
Enter.

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

completion: At Prince Henry's house in London, the prince talks with his friend Poins, saying that he is tired of the superficial life he leads. Poins rebukes him for not showing any concern about his father's sickness. The Prince replies that he does feel sadness, but he doesn't show it. He thinks that if he did, people would think him a hypocrite. The fact that he associates with Falstaff and leads such a wild life has led people to suppose he has no concern for his father. . Bardolph and Page enter with a letter from Falstaff to the Prince. The letter is written in an over-familiar way, ignoring the rules of how a Prince should be addressed. In the letter, Falstaff tells Henry not to get too close to Poins, who has boasted that the Prince has promised to marry Nell, Poins's sister. . Poins denies that he ever said such a thing. The Prince then establishes from Bardolph that Falstaff will be at the Boar's Head tavern in Eastcheap for supper, and he resolves to go there with Poins and surprise him. He makes Bardolph promise not to tell Falstaff of his plans. . After Bardolph and Page exit, the Prince says that he wants to see Falstaff in his true colors at the tavern. Poins suggests they disguise themselves as servers, and wait on Falstaff at his table. .