prompt:
Chapter: Enter Fluellen and Gower.

  Flu. Kill the poyes and the luggage, 'Tis expressely
against the Law of Armes, tis as arrant a peece of knauery
marke you now, as can bee offert in your Conscience
now, is it not?
  Gow. Tis certaine, there's not a boy left aliue, and the
Cowardly Rascalls that ranne from the battaile ha' done
this slaughter: besides they haue burned and carried away
all that was in the Kings Tent, wherefore the King
most worthily hath caus'd euery soldiour to cut his prisoners
throat. O 'tis a gallant King

   Flu. I, hee was porne at Monmouth Captaine Gower:
What call you the Townes name where Alexander the
pig was borne?
  Gow. Alexander the Great

   Flu. Why I pray you, is not pig, great? The pig, or
the great, or the mighty, or the huge, or the magnanimous,
are all one reckonings, saue the phrase is a litle variations

   Gower. I thinke Alexander the Great was borne in
Macedon, his Father was called Phillip of Macedon, as I
take it

   Flu. I thinke it is in Macedon where Alexander is
porne: I tell you Captaine, if you looke in the Maps of
the Orld, I warrant you sall finde in the comparisons betweene
Macedon & Monmouth, that the situations looke
you, is both alike. There is a Riuer in Macedon, & there
is also moreouer a Riuer at Monmouth, it is call'd Wye at
Monmouth: but it is out of my praines, what is the name
of the other Riuer: but 'tis all one, tis alike as my fingers
is to my fingers, and there is Salmons in both. If you
marke Alexanders life well, Harry of Monmouthes life is
come after it indifferent well, for there is figures in all
things. Alexander God knowes, and you know, in his
rages, and his furies, and his wraths, and his chollers, and
his moodes, and his displeasures, and his indignations,
and also being a little intoxicates in his praines, did in
his Ales and his angers (looke you) kill his best friend
Clytus

   Gow. Our King is not like him in that, he neuer kill'd
any of his friends

   Flu. It is not well done (marke you now) to take the
tales out of my mouth, ere it is made and finished. I speak
but in the figures, and comparisons of it: as Alexander
kild his friend Clytus, being in his Ales and his Cuppes; so
also Harry Monmouth being in his right wittes, and his
good iudgements, turn'd away the fat Knight with the
great belly doublet: he was full of iests, and gypes, and
knaueries, and mockes, I haue forgot his name

   Gow. Sir Iohn Falstaffe

   Flu. That is he: Ile tell you, there is good men porne
at Monmouth

   Gow. Heere comes his Maiesty.

Alarum. Enter King Harry and Burbon with prisoners. Flourish.

  King. I was not angry since I came to France,
Vntill this instant. Take a Trumpet Herald,
Ride thou vnto the Horsemen on yond hill:
If they will fight with vs, bid them come downe,
Or voyde the field: they do offend our sight.
If they'l do neither, we will come to them,
And make them sker away, as swift as stones
Enforced from the old Assyrian slings:
Besides, wee'l cut the throats of those we haue,
And not a man of them that we shall take,
Shall taste our mercy. Go and tell them so.
Enter Montioy.

  Exe. Here comes the Herald of the French, my Liege
  Glou. His eyes are humbler then they vs'd to be

   King. How now, what meanes this Herald? Knowst
thou not,
That I haue fin'd these bones of mine for ransome?
Com'st thou againe for ransome?
  Her. No great King:
I come to thee for charitable License,
That we may wander ore this bloody field,
To booke our dead, and then to bury them,
To sort our Nobles from our common men.
For many of our Princes (woe the while)
Lye drown'd and soak'd in mercenary blood:
So do our vulgar drench their peasant limbes
In blood of Princes, and with wounded steeds
Fret fet-locke deepe in gore, and with wilde rage
Yerke out their armed heeles at their dead masters,
Killing them twice. O giue vs leaue great King,
To view the field in safety, and dispose
Of their dead bodies

   Kin. I tell thee truly Herald,
I know not if the day be ours or no,
For yet a many of your horsemen peere,
And gallop ore the field

   Her. The day is yours

   Kin. Praised be God, and not our strength for it:
What is this Castle call'd that stands hard by

   Her. They call it Agincourt

   King. Then call we this the field of Agincourt,
Fought on the day of Crispin Crispianus

   Flu. Your Grandfather of famous memory (an't please
your Maiesty) and your great Vncle Edward the Placke
Prince of Wales, as I haue read in the Chronicles, fought
a most praue pattle here in France

   Kin. They did Fluellen

   Flu. Your Maiesty sayes very true: If your Maiesties
is remembred of it, the Welchmen did good seruice in a
Garden where Leekes did grow, wearing Leekes in their
Monmouth caps, which your Maiesty know to this houre
is an honourable badge of the seruice: And I do beleeue
your Maiesty takes no scorne to weare the Leeke vppon
S[aint]. Tauies day

   King. I weare it for a memorable honor:
For I am Welch you know good Countriman

   Flu. All the water in Wye, cannot wash your Maiesties
Welsh plood out of your pody, I can tell you that:
God plesse it, and preserue it, as long as it pleases his
Grace, and his Maiesty too

   Kin. Thankes good my Countrymen

   Flu. By Ieshu, I am your Maiesties Countreyman, I
care not who know it: I will confesse it to all the Orld, I
need not to be ashamed of your Maiesty, praised be God
so long as your Maiesty is an honest man

   King. Good keepe me so.
Enter Williams.

Our Heralds go with him,
Bring me iust notice of the numbers dead
On both our parts. Call yonder fellow hither

   Exe. Souldier, you must come to the King

   Kin. Souldier, why wear'st thou that Gloue in thy
Cappe?
  Will. And't please your Maiesty, tis the gage of one
that I should fight withall, if he be aliue

   Kin. An Englishman?
  Wil. And't please your Maiesty, a Rascall that swagger'd
with me last night: who if aliue, and euer dare to
challenge this Gloue, I haue sworne to take him a boxe
a'th ere: or if I can see my Gloue in his cappe, which he
swore as he was a Souldier he would weare (if aliue) I wil
strike it out soundly

   Kin. What thinke you Captaine Fluellen, is it fit this
souldier keepe his oath

   Flu. Hee is a Crauen and a Villaine else, and't please
your Maiesty in my conscience

   King. It may bee, his enemy is a Gentleman of great
sort quite from the answer of his degree

   Flu. Though he be as good a Ientleman as the diuel is,
as Lucifer and Belzebub himselfe, it is necessary (looke
your Grace) that he keepe his vow and his oath: If hee
bee periur'd (see you now) his reputation is as arrant a
villaine and a Iacke sawce, as euer his blacke shoo trodd
vpon Gods ground, and his earth, in my conscience law
  King. Then keepe thy vow sirrah, when thou meet'st
the fellow

   Wil. So, I wil my Liege, as I liue

   King. Who seru'st thou vnder?
  Will. Vnder Captaine Gower, my Liege

   Flu. Gower is a good Captaine, and is good knowledge
and literatured in the Warres

   King. Call him hither to me, Souldier

   Will. I will my Liege.
Enter.

  King. Here Fluellen, weare thou this fauour for me, and
sticke it in thy Cappe: when Alanson and my selfe were
downe together, I pluckt this Gloue from his Helme: If
any man challenge this, hee is a friend to Alanson, and an
enemy to our Person; if thou encounter any such, apprehend
him, and thou do'st me loue

   Flu. Your Grace doo's me as great Honors as can be
desir'd in the hearts of his Subiects: I would faine see
the man, that ha's but two legges, that shall find himselfe
agreefd at this Gloue; that is all: but I would faine see
it once, and please God of his grace that I might see

   King. Know'st thou Gower?
  Flu. He is my deare friend, and please you

   King. Pray thee goe seeke him, and bring him to my
Tent

   Flu. I will fetch him.
Enter.

  King. My Lord of Warwick, and my Brother Gloster,
Follow Fluellen closely at the heeles.
The Gloue which I haue giuen him for a fauour,
May haply purchase him a box a'th' eare.
It is the Souldiers: I by bargaine should
Weare it my selfe. Follow good Cousin Warwick:
If that the Souldier strike him, as I iudge
By his blunt bearing, he will keepe his word;
Some sodaine mischiefe may arise of it:
For I doe know Fluellen valiant,
And toucht with Choler, hot as Gunpowder,
And quickly will returne an iniurie.
Follow, and see there be no harme betweene them.
Goe you with me, Vnckle of Exeter.

Exeunt.

Enter Gower and Williams.

  Will. I warrant it is to Knight you, Captaine.
Enter Fluellen.

  Flu. Gods will, and his pleasure, Captaine, I beseech
you now, come apace to the King: there is more good
toward you peraduenture, then is in your knowledge to
dreame of

   Will. Sir, know you this Gloue?
  Flu. Know the Gloue? I know the Gloue is a Gloue

   Will. I know this, and thus I challenge it.

Strikes him.

  Flu. 'Sblud, an arrant Traytor as anyes in the Vniuersall
World, or in France, or in England

   Gower. How now Sir? you Villaine

   Will. Doe you thinke Ile be forsworne?
  Flu. Stand away Captaine Gower, I will giue Treason
his payment into plowes, I warrant you

   Will. I am no Traytor

   Flu. That's a Lye in thy Throat. I charge you in his
Maiesties Name apprehend him, he's a friend of the Duke
Alansons.
Enter Warwick and Gloucester.

  Warw. How now, how now, what's the matter?
  Flu. My Lord of Warwick, heere is, praysed be God
for it, a most contagious Treason come to light, looke
you, as you shall desire in a Summers day. Heere is his
Maiestie.
Enter King and Exeter.

  King. How now, what's the matter?
  Flu. My Liege, heere is a Villaine, and a Traytor,
that looke your Grace, ha's strooke the Gloue which
your Maiestie is take out of the Helmet of Alanson

   Will. My Liege, this was my Gloue, here is the fellow
of it: and he that I gaue it to in change, promis'd to weare
it in his Cappe: I promis'd to strike him, if he did: I met
this man with my Gloue in his Cappe, and I haue been as
good as my word

   Flu. Your Maiestie heare now, sauing your Maiesties
Manhood, what an arrant rascally, beggerly, lowsie
Knaue it is: I hope your Maiestie is peare me testimonie
and witnesse, and will auouchment, that this is the Gloue
of Alanson, that your Maiestie is giue me, in your Conscience
now

   King. Giue me thy Gloue Souldier;
Looke, heere is the fellow of it:
'Twas I indeed thou promised'st to strike,
And thou hast giuen me most bitter termes

   Flu. And please your Maiestie, let his Neck answere
for it, if there is any Marshall Law in the World

   King. How canst thou make me satisfaction?
  Will. All offences, my Lord, come from the heart: neuer
came any from mine, that might offend your Maiestie

   King. It was our selfe thou didst abuse

   Will. Your Maiestie came not like your selfe: you
appear'd to me but as a common man; witnesse the
Night, your Garments, your Lowlinesse: and what
your Highnesse suffer'd vnder that shape, I beseech you
take it for your owne fault, and not mine: for had you
beene as I tooke you for, I made no offence; therefore I
beseech your Highnesse pardon me

   King. Here Vnckle Exeter, fill this Gloue with Crownes,
And giue it to this fellow. Keepe it fellow,
And weare it for an Honor in thy Cappe,
Till I doe challenge it. Giue him the Crownes:
And Captaine, you must needs be friends with him

   Flu. By this Day and this Light, the fellow ha's mettell
enough in his belly: Hold, there is twelue-pence for
you, and I pray you to serue God, and keepe you out of
prawles and prabbles, and quarrels and dissentions, and I
warrant you it is the better for you

   Will. I will none of your Money

   Flu. It is with a good will: I can tell you it will serue
you to mend your shooes: come, wherefore should you
be so pashfull, your shooes is not so good: 'tis a good
silling I warrant you, or I will change it.
Enter Herauld.

  King. Now Herauld, are the dead numbred?
  Herald. Heere is the number of the slaught'red
French

   King. What Prisoners of good sort are taken,
Vnckle?
  Exe. Charles Duke of Orleance, Nephew to the King,
Iohn Duke of Burbon, and Lord Bouchiquald:
Of other Lords and Barons, Knights and Squires,
Full fifteene hundred, besides common men

   King. This Note doth tell me of ten thousand French
That in the field lye slaine: of Princes in this number,
And Nobles bearing Banners, there lye dead
One hundred twentie six: added to these,
Of Knights, Esquires, and gallant Gentlemen,
Eight thousand and foure hundred: of the which,
Fiue hundred were but yesterday dubb'd Knights.
So that in these ten thousand they haue lost,
There are but sixteene hundred Mercenaries:
The rest are Princes, Barons, Lords, Knights, Squires,
And Gentlemen of bloud and qualitie.
The Names of those their Nobles that lye dead:
Charles Delabreth, High Constable of France,
Iaques of Chatilion, Admirall of France,
The Master of the Crosse-bowes, Lord Rambures,
Great Master of France, the braue Sir Guichard Dolphin,
Iohn Duke of Alanson, Anthonie Duke of Brabant,
The Brother to the Duke of Burgundie,
And Edward Duke of Barr: of lustie Earles,
Grandpree and Roussie, Fauconbridge and Foyes,
Beaumont and Marle, Vandemont and Lestrale.
Here was a Royall fellowship of death.
Where is the number of our English dead?
Edward the Duke of Yorke, the Earle of Suffolke,
Sir Richard Ketly, Dauy Gam Esquire;
None else of name: and of all other men,
But fiue and twentie.
O God, thy Arme was heere:
And not to vs, but to thy Arme alone,
Ascribe we all: when, without stratagem,
But in plaine shock, and euen play of Battaile,
Was euer knowne so great and little losse?
On one part and on th' other, take it God,
For it is none but thine

   Exet. 'Tis wonderfull

   King. Come, goe we in procession to the Village:
And be it death proclaymed through our Hoast,
To boast of this, or take that prayse from God,
Which is his onely

   Flu. Is it not lawfull and please your Maiestie, to tell
how many is kill'd?
  King. Yes Captaine: but with this acknowledgement,
That God fought for vs

   Flu. Yes, my conscience, he did vs great good

   King. Doe we all holy Rights:
Let there be sung Non nobis, and Te Deum,
The dead with charitie enclos'd in Clay:
And then to Callice, and to England then,
Where ne're from France arriu'd more happy men.

Exeunt.

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

completion: The Chorus sets the scene in the English and French camps at night. The neighing of horses pierce the night air, as does the sound of the armourers' hammers as they prepare the knights' armor. At three o'clock in the morning, the overconfident French are impatient for dawn, while the English sit patiently by their fires like men waiting to be sacrificed. Their thoughts are heavy. But Henry walks around the camp, visiting his men and encouraging them. With his cheerful manner, he gives no sign of the dire situation they are all in. Every soldier is comforted by the sight of their King. Their fears dissipate.


prompt:
Chapter: Enter Chorus.

Vouchsafe to those that haue not read the Story,
That I may prompt them: and of such as haue,
I humbly pray them to admit th' excuse
Of time, of numbers, and due course of things,
Which cannot in their huge and proper life,
Be here presented. Now we beare the King
Toward Callice: Graunt him there; there seene,
Heaue him away vpon your winged thoughts,
Athwart the Sea: Behold the English beach
Pales in the flood; with Men, Wiues, and Boyes,
Whose shouts & claps out-voyce the deep-mouth'd Sea,
Which like a mightie Whiffler 'fore the King,
Seemes to prepare his way: So let him land,
And solemnly see him set on to London.
So swift a pace hath Thought, that euen now
You may imagine him vpon Black-Heath:
Where, that his Lords desire him, to haue borne
His bruised Helmet, and his bended Sword
Before him, through the Citie: he forbids it,
Being free from vainnesse, and selfe-glorious pride;
Giuing full Trophee, Signall, and Ostent,
Quite from himselfe, to God. But now behold,
In the quick Forge and working-house of Thought,
How London doth powre out her Citizens,
The Maior and all his Brethren in best sort,
Like to the Senatours of th' antique Rome,
With the Plebeians swarming at their heeles,
Goe forth and fetch their Conqu'ring C�sar in:
As by a lower, but by louing likelyhood,
Were now the Generall of our gracious Empresse,
As in good time he may, from Ireland comming,
Bringing Rebellion broached on his Sword;
How many would the peacefull Citie quit,
To welcome him? much more, and much more cause,
Did they this Harry. Now in London place him.
As yet the lamentation of the French
Inuites the King of Englands stay at home:
The Emperour's comming in behalfe of France,
To order peace betweene them: and omit
All the occurrences, what euer chanc't,
Till Harryes backe returne againe to France:
There must we bring him; and my selfe haue play'd
The interim, by remembring you 'tis past.
Then brooke abridgement, and your eyes aduance,
After your thoughts, straight backe againe to France.
Enter.

Enter Fluellen and Gower.

  Gower. Nay, that's right: but why weare you your
Leeke to day? S[aint]. Dauies day is past

   Flu. There is occasions and causes why and wherefore
in all things: I will tell you asse my friend, Captaine
Gower; the rascally, scauld, beggerly, lowsie, pragging
Knaue Pistoll, which you and your selfe, and all the World,
know to be no petter then a fellow, looke you now, of no
merits: hee is come to me, and prings me pread and
sault yesterday, looke you, and bid me eate my Leeke:
it was in a place where I could not breed no contention
with him; but I will be so bold as to weare it in my Cap
till I see him once againe, and then I will tell him a little
piece of my desires.
Enter Pistoll.

  Gower. Why heere hee comes, swelling like a Turkycock

   Flu. 'Tis no matter for his swellings, nor his Turkycocks.
God plesse you aunchient Pistoll: you scuruie lowsie
Knaue, God plesse you

   Pist. Ha, art thou bedlam? doest thou thirst, base
Troian, to haue me fold vp Parcas fatall Web? Hence;
I am qualmish at the smell of Leeke

   Flu. I peseech you heartily, scuruie lowsie Knaue, at
my desires, and my requests, and my petitions, to eate,
looke you, this Leeke; because, looke you, you doe not
loue it, nor your affections, and your appetites and your
disgestions doo's not agree with it, I would desire you
to eate it

   Pist. Not for Cadwallader and all his Goats

   Flu. There is one Goat for you.

 Strikes him.

Will you be so good, scauld Knaue, as eate it?
  Pist. Base Troian, thou shalt dye

   Flu. You say very true, scauld Knaue, when Gods
will is: I will desire you to liue in the meane time, and
eate your Victuals: come, there is sawce for it. You
call'd me yesterday Mountaine-Squier, but I will make
you to day a squire of low degree. I pray you fall too, if
you can mocke a Leeke, you can eate a Leeke

   Gour. Enough Captaine, you haue astonisht him

   Flu. I say, I will make him eate some part of my leeke,
or I will peate his pate foure dayes: bite I pray you, it is
good for your greene wound, and your ploodie Coxecombe

   Pist. Must I bite

   Flu. Yes certainly, and out of doubt and out of question
too, and ambiguities

   Pist. By this Leeke, I will most horribly reuenge I
eate and eate I sweare

   Flu. Eate I pray you, will you haue some more sauce
to your Leeke: there is not enough Leeke to sweare by

   Pist. Quiet thy Cudgell, thou dost see I eate

   Flu. Much good do you scald knaue, heartily. Nay,
pray you throw none away, the skinne is good for your
broken Coxcombe; when you take occasions to see
Leekes heereafter, I pray you mocke at 'em, that is all

   Pist. Good

   Flu. I, Leekes is good: hold you, there is a groat to
heale your pate

   Pist. Me a groat?
  Flu. Yes verily, and in truth you shall take it, or I haue
another Leeke in my pocket, which you shall eate

   Pist. I take thy groat in earnest of reuenge

   Flu. If I owe you any thing, I will pay you in Cudgels,
you shall be a Woodmonger, and buy nothing of
me but cudgels: God bu'y you, and keepe you, & heale
your pate.

Exit

  Pist. All hell shall stirre for this

   Gow. Go, go, you are a counterfeit cowardly Knaue,
will you mocke at an ancient Tradition began vppon an
honourable respect, and worne as a memorable Trophee
of predeceased valor, and dare not auouch in your deeds
any of your words. I haue seene you gleeking & galling
at this Gentleman twice or thrice. You thought, because
he could not speake English in the natiue garb, he could
not therefore handle an English Cudgell: you finde it otherwise,
and henceforth let a Welsh correction, teach
you a good English condition, fare ye well.

Exit

  Pist. Doeth fortune play the huswife with me now?
Newes haue I that my Doll is dead i'th Spittle of a malady
of France, and there my rendeuous is quite cut off:
Old I do waxe, and from my wearie limbes honour is
Cudgeld. Well, Baud Ile turne, and something leane to
Cut-purse of quicke hand: To England will I steale, and
there Ile steale:
And patches will I get vnto these cudgeld scarres,
And swore I got them in the Gallia warres.
Enter.

Enter at one doore, King Henry, Exeter, Bedford, Warwicke, and
other
Lords. At another, Queene Isabel, the King, the Duke of
Bourgougne, and
other French.

  King. Peace to this meeting, wherefore we are met;
Vnto our brother France, and to our Sister
Health and faire time of day: Ioy and good wishes
To our most faire and Princely Cosine Katherine:
And as a branch and member of this Royalty,
By whom this great assembly is contriu'd,
We do salute you Duke of Burgogne,
And Princes French and Peeres health to you all

   Fra. Right ioyous are we to behold your face,
Most worthy brother England, fairely met,
So are you Princes (English) euery one

   Quee. So happy be the Issue brother Ireland
Of this good day, and of this gracious meeting,
As we are now glad to behold your eyes,
Your eyes which hitherto haue borne
In them against the French that met them in their bent,
The fatall Balls of murthering Basiliskes:
The venome of such Lookes we fairely hope
Haue lost their qualitie, and that this day
Shall change all griefes and quarrels into loue

   Eng. To cry Amen to that, thus we appeare

   Quee. You English Princes all, I doe salute you

   Burg. My dutie to you both, on equall loue.
Great Kings of France and England: that I haue labour'd
With all my wits, my paines, and strong endeuors,
To bring your most Imperiall Maiesties
Vnto this Barre, and Royall enterview;
Your Mightinesse on both parts best can witnesse.
Since then my Office hath so farre preuayl'd,
That Face to Face, and Royall Eye to Eye,
You haue congreeted: let it not disgrace me,
If I demand before this Royall view,
What Rub, or what Impediment there is,
Why that the naked, poore, and mangled Peace,
Deare Nourse of Arts, Plentyes, and ioyfull Births,
Should not in this best Garden of the World,
Our fertile France, put vp her louely Visage?
Alas, shee hath from France too long been chas'd,
And all her Husbandry doth lye on heapes,
Corrupting in it owne fertilitie.
Her Vine, the merry chearer of the heart,
Vnpruned, dyes: her Hedges euen pleach'd,
Like Prisoners wildly ouer-growne with hayre,
Put forth disorder'd Twigs: her fallow Leas,
The Darnell, Hemlock, and ranke Femetary,
Doth root vpon; while that the Culter rusts,
That should deracinate such Sauagery:
The euen Meade, that erst brought sweetly forth
The freckled Cowslip, Burnet, and greene Clouer,
Wanting the Sythe, withall vncorrected, ranke;
Conceiues by idlenesse, and nothing teemes,
But hatefull Docks, rough Thistles, Keksyes, Burres,
Loosing both beautie and vtilitie;
And all our Vineyards, Fallowes, Meades, and Hedges,
Defectiue in their natures, grow to wildnesse.
Euen so our Houses, and our selues, and Children,
Haue lost, or doe not learne, for want of time,
The Sciences that should become our Countrey;
But grow like Sauages, as Souldiers will,
That nothing doe, but meditate on Blood,
To Swearing, and sterne Lookes, defus'd Attyre,
And euery thing that seemes vnnaturall.
Which to reduce into our former fauour,
You are assembled: and my speech entreats,
That I may know the Let, why gentle Peace
Should not expell these inconueniences,
And blesse vs with her former qualities

   Eng. If Duke of Burgonie, you would the Peace,
Whose want giues growth to th' imperfections
Which you haue cited; you must buy that Peace
With full accord to all our iust demands,
Whose Tenures and particular effects
You haue enschedul'd briefely in your hands

   Burg. The King hath heard them: to the which, as yet
There is no Answer made

   Eng. Well then: the Peace which you before so vrg'd,
Lyes in his Answer

   France. I haue but with a curselarie eye
O're-glanc't the Articles: Pleaseth your Grace
To appoint some of your Councell presently
To sit with vs once more, with better heed
To re-suruey them; we will suddenly
Passe our accept and peremptorie Answer

   England. Brother we shall. Goe Vnckle Exeter,
And Brother Clarence, and you Brother Gloucester,
Warwick, and Huntington, goe with the King,
And take with you free power, to ratifie,
Augment, or alter, as your Wisdomes best
Shall see aduantageable for our Dignitie,
Any thing in or out of our Demands,
And wee'le consigne thereto. Will you, faire Sister,
Goe with the Princes, or stay here with vs?
  Quee. Our gracious Brother, I will goe with them:
Happily a Womans Voyce may doe some good,
When Articles too nicely vrg'd, be stood on

   England. Yet leaue our Cousin Katherine here with vs,
She is our capitall Demand, compris'd
Within the fore-ranke of our Articles

   Quee. She hath good leaue.

Exeunt. omnes.

Manet King and Katherine

   King. Faire Katherine, and most faire,
Will you vouchsafe to teach a Souldier tearmes,
Such as will enter at a Ladyes eare,
And pleade his Loue-suit to her gentle heart

   Kath. Your Maiestie shall mock at me, I cannot speake
your England

   King. O faire Katherine, if you will loue me soundly
with your French heart, I will be glad to heare you confesse
it brokenly with your English Tongue. Doe you
like me, Kate?
  Kath. Pardonne moy, I cannot tell wat is like me

   King. An Angell is like you Kate, and you are like an
Angell

   Kath. Que dit il que Ie suis semblable a les Anges?
  Lady. Ouy verayment (sauf vostre Grace) ainsi dit il

   King. I said so, deare Katherine, and I must not blush
to affirme it

   Kath. O bon Dieu, les langues des hommes sont plein de
tromperies

   King. What sayes she, faire one? that the tongues of
men are full of deceits?
  Lady. Ouy, dat de tongues of de mans is be full of deceits:
dat is de Princesse

   King. The Princesse is the better English-woman:
yfaith Kate, my wooing is fit for thy vnderstanding, I am
glad thou canst speake no better English, for if thou
could'st, thou would'st finde me such a plaine King, that
thou wouldst thinke, I had sold my Farme to buy my
Crowne. I know no wayes to mince it in loue, but directly
to say, I loue you; then if you vrge me farther,
then to say, Doe you in faith? I weare out my suite: Giue
me your answer, yfaith doe, and so clap hands, and a bargaine:
how say you, Lady?
  Kath. Sauf vostre honeur, me vnderstand well

   King. Marry, if you would put me to Verses, or to
Dance for your sake, Kate, why you vndid me: for the one
I haue neither words nor measure; and for the other, I
haue no strength in measure, yet a reasonable measure in
strength. If I could winne a Lady at Leape-frogge, or by
vawting into my Saddle, with my Armour on my backe;
vnder the correction of bragging be it spoken. I should
quickly leape into a Wife: Or if I might buffet for my
Loue, or bound my Horse for her fauours, I could lay on
like a Butcher, and sit like a Iack an Apes, neuer off. But
before God Kate, I cannot looke greenely, nor gaspe out
my eloquence, nor I haue no cunning in protestation;
onely downe-right Oathes, which I neuer vse till vrg'd,
nor neuer breake for vrging. If thou canst loue a fellow
of this temper, Kate, whose face is not worth Sunne-burning?
that neuer lookes in his Glasse, for loue of any
thing he sees there? let thine Eye be thy Cooke. I speake
to thee plaine Souldier: If thou canst loue me for this,
take me? if not? to say to thee that I shall dye, is true; but
for thy loue, by the L[ord]. No: yet I loue thee too. And
while thou liu'st, deare Kate, take a fellow of plaine and
vncoyned Constancie, for he perforce must do thee right,
because he hath not the gift to wooe in other places: for
these fellowes of infinit tongue, that can ryme themselues
into Ladyes fauours, they doe alwayes reason themselues
out againe. What? a speaker is but a prater, a Ryme is
but a Ballad; a good Legge will fall, a strait Backe will
stoope, a blacke Beard will turne white, a curl'd Pate will
grow bald, a faire Face will wither, a full Eye will wax
hollow: but a good Heart, Kate, is the Sunne and the
Moone, or rather the Sunne, and not the Moone; for it
shines bright, and neuer changes, but keepes his course
truly. If thou would haue such a one, take me? and
take me; take a Souldier: take a Souldier; take a King.
And what say'st thou then to my Loue? speake my faire,
and fairely, I pray thee

   Kath. Is it possible dat I sould loue de ennemie of
Fraunce?
  King. No, it is not possible you should loue the Enemie
of France, Kate; but in louing me, you should loue
the Friend of France: for I loue France so well, that I
will not part with a Village of it; I will haue it all mine:
and Kate, when France is mine, and I am yours; then yours
is France, and you are mine

   Kath. I cannot tell wat is dat

   King. No, Kate? I will tell thee in French, which I am
sure will hang vpon my tongue, like a new-married Wife
about her Husbands Necke, hardly to be shooke off; Ie
quand sur le possession de Fraunce, & quand vous aues le
possession
de moy. (Let mee see, what then? Saint Dennis bee
my speede) Donc vostre est Fraunce, & vous estes mienne.
It is as easie for me, Kate, to conquer the Kingdome, as to
speake so much more French: I shall neuer moue thee in
French, vnlesse it be to laugh at me

   Kath. Sauf vostre honeur, le Francois ques vous parleis, il
& melieus que l' Anglois le quel Ie parle

   King. No faith is't not, Kate: but thy speaking of
my Tongue, and I thine, most truely falsely, must
needes be graunted to be much at one. But Kate, doo'st
thou vnderstand thus much English? Canst thou loue
mee?
  Kath. I cannot tell

   King. Can any of your Neighbours tell, Kate? Ile
aske them. Come, I know thou louest me: and at night,
when you come into your Closet, you'le question this
Gentlewoman about me; and I know, Kate, you will to
her disprayse those parts in me, that you loue with your
heart: but good Kate, mocke me mercifully, the rather
gentle Princesse, because I loue thee cruelly. If euer thou
beest mine, Kate, as I haue a sauing Faith within me tells
me thou shalt; I get thee with skambling, and thou
must therefore needes proue a good Souldier-breeder:
Shall not thou and I, betweene Saint Dennis and Saint
George, compound a Boy, halfe French halfe English,
that shall goe to Constantinople, and take the Turke by
the Beard. Shall wee not? what say'st thou, my faire
Flower-de-Luce

   Kate. I doe not know dat

   King. No: 'tis hereafter to know, but now to promise:
doe but now promise Kate, you will endeauour for your
French part of such a Boy; and for my English moytie,
take the Word of a King, and a Batcheler. How answer
you. La plus belle Katherine du monde mon trescher & deuin
deesse

   Kath. Your Maiestee aue fause Frenche enough to
deceiue de most sage Damoiseil dat is en Fraunce

   King. Now fye vpon my false French: by mine Honor
in true English, I loue thee Kate; by which Honor, I dare
not sweare thou louest me, yet my blood begins to flatter
me, that thou doo'st; notwithstanding the poore and
vntempering effect of my Visage. Now beshrew my
Fathers Ambition, hee was thinking of Ciuill Warres
when hee got me, therefore was I created with a stubborne
out-side, with an aspect of Iron, that when I come
to wooe Ladyes, I fright them: but in faith Kate, the elder
I wax, the better I shall appeare. My comfort is, that
Old Age, that ill layer vp of Beautie, can doe no more
spoyle vpon my Face. Thou hast me, if thou hast me, at
the worst; and thou shalt weare me, if thou weare me,
better and better: and therefore tell me, most faire Katherine,
will you haue me? Put off your Maiden Blushes,
auouch the Thoughts of your Heart with the Lookes of
an Empresse, take me by the Hand, and say, Harry of
England, I am thine: which Word thou shalt no sooner
blesse mine Eare withall, but I will tell thee alowd, England
is thine, Ireland is thine, France is thine, and Henry
Plantaginet is thine; who, though I speake it before his
Face, if he be not Fellow with the best King, thou shalt
finde the best King of Good-fellowes. Come your Answer
in broken Musick; for thy Voyce is Musick, and
thy English broken: Therefore Queene of all, Katherine,
breake thy minde to me in broken English; wilt thou
haue me?
  Kath. Dat is as it shall please de Roy mon pere

   King. Nay, it will please him well, Kate; it shall please
him, Kate

   Kath. Den it sall also content me

   King. Vpon that I kisse your Hand, and I call you my
Queene

   Kath. Laisse mon Seigneur, laisse, laisse, may foy: Ie ne
veus point que vous abbaisse vostre grandeus, en baisant le
main d' une nostre Seigneur indignie seruiteur excuse moy. Ie
vous supplie mon tres-puissant Seigneur

   King. Then I will kisse your Lippes, Kate

   Kath. Les Dames & Damoisels pour estre baisee deuant
leur nopcese il net pas le costume de Fraunce

   King. Madame, my Interpreter, what sayes shee?
  Lady. Dat it is not be de fashon pour le Ladies of
Fraunce; I cannot tell wat is buisse en Anglish

   King. To kisse

   Lady. Your Maiestee entendre bettre que moy

   King. It is not a fashion for the Maids in Fraunce to
kisse before they are marryed, would she say?
  Lady. Ouy verayment

   King. O Kate, nice Customes cursie to great Kings.
Deare Kate, you and I cannot bee confin'd within the
weake Lyst of a Countreyes fashion: wee are the makers
of Manners, Kate; and the libertie that followes
our Places, stoppes the mouth of all finde-faults, as I
will doe yours, for vpholding the nice fashion of your
Countrey, in denying me a Kisse: therefore patiently,
and yeelding. You haue Witch-craft in your Lippes,
Kate: there is more eloquence in a Sugar touch of
them, then in the Tongues of the French Councell; and
they should sooner perswade Harry of England, then a
generall Petition of Monarchs. Heere comes your
Father.
Enter the French Power, and the English Lords.

  Burg. God saue your Maiestie, my Royall Cousin,
teach you our Princesse English?
  King. I would haue her learne, my faire Cousin, how
perfectly I loue her, and that is good English

   Burg. Is shee not apt?
  King. Our Tongue is rough, Coze, and my Condition
is not smooth: so that hauing neyther the Voyce nor
the Heart of Flatterie about me, I cannot so coniure vp
the Spirit of Loue in her, that hee will appeare in his true
likenesse

   Burg. Pardon the franknesse of my mirth, if I answer
you for that. If you would coniure in her, you must
make a Circle: if coniure vp Loue in her in his true
likenesse, hee must appeare naked, and blinde. Can you
blame her then, being a Maid, yet ros'd ouer with the
Virgin Crimson of Modestie, if shee deny the apparance
of a naked blinde Boy in her naked seeing selfe? It were
(my Lord) a hard Condition for a Maid to consigne
to

   King. Yet they doe winke and yeeld, as Loue is blind
and enforces

   Burg. They are then excus'd, my Lord, when they see
not what they doe

   King. Then good my Lord, teach your Cousin to
consent winking

   Burg. I will winke on her to consent, my Lord, if you
will teach her to know my meaning: for Maides well
Summer'd, and warme kept, are like Flyes at Bartholomew-tyde,
blinde, though they haue their eyes, and then
they will endure handling, which before would not abide
looking on

   King. This Morall tyes me ouer to Time, and a hot
Summer; and so I shall catch the Flye, your Cousin, in
the latter end, and she must be blinde to

   Burg. As Loue is my Lord, before it loues

   King. It is so: and you may, some of you, thanke
Loue for my blindnesse, who cannot see many a faire
French Citie for one faire French Maid that stands in my
way

   French King. Yes my Lord, you see them perspectiuely:
the Cities turn'd into a Maid; for they are
all gyrdled with Maiden Walls, that Warre hath entred

   England. Shall Kate be my Wife?
  France. So please you

   England. I am content, so the Maiden Cities you
talke of, may wait on her: so the Maid that stood in
the way for my Wish, shall shew me the way to my
Will

   France. Wee haue consented to all tearmes of reason

   England. Is't so, my Lords of England?
  West. The King hath graunted euery Article:
His Daughter first; and in sequele, all,
According to their firme proposed natures

   Exet. Onely he hath not yet subscribed this:
Where your Maiestie demands, That the King of France
hauing any occasion to write for matter of Graunt, shall
name your Highnesse in this forme, and with this addition,
in French: Nostre trescher filz Henry Roy d' Angleterre
Heretere de Fraunce: and thus in Latine; Praeclarissimus
Filius noster Henricus Rex Angli� & Heres Franciae

   France. Nor this I haue not Brother so deny'd,
But your request shall make me let it passe

   England. I pray you then, in loue and deare allyance,
Let that one Article ranke with the rest,
And thereupon giue me your Daughter

   France. Take her faire Sonne, and from her blood rayse vp
Issue to me, that the contending Kingdomes
Of France and England, whose very shoares looke pale,
With enuy of each others happinesse,
May cease their hatred; and this deare Coniunction
Plant Neighbour-hood and Christian-like accord
In their sweet Bosomes: that neuer Warre aduance
His bleeding Sword 'twixt England and faire France

   Lords. Amen

   King. Now welcome Kate: and beare me witnesse all,
That here I kisse her as my Soueraigne Queene.

Flourish.

  Quee. God, the best maker of all Marriages,
Combine your hearts in one, your Realmes in one:
As Man and Wife being two, are one in loue,
So be there 'twixt your Kingdomes such a Spousall,
That neuer may ill Office, or fell Iealousie,
Which troubles oft the Bed of blessed Marriage,
Thrust in betweene the Paction of these Kingdomes,
To make diuorce of their incorporate League:
That English may as French, French Englishmen,
Receiue each other. God speake this Amen

   All. Amen

   King. Prepare we for our Marriage: on which day,
My Lord of Burgundy wee'le take your Oath
And all the Peeres, for suretie of our Leagues.
Then shall I sweare to Kate, and you to me,
And may our Oathes well kept and prosp'rous be.

Senet. Exeunt.

Enter Chorus.

Thus farre with rough, and all-vnable Pen,
Our bending Author hath pursu'd the Story,
In little roome confining mightie men,
Mangling by starts the full course of their glory.
Small time: but in that small, most greatly liued
This Starre of England. Fortune made his Sword;
By which, the Worlds best Garden he atchieued:
And of it left his Sonne Imperiall Lord.
Henry the Sixt, in Infant Bands crown'd King
Of France and England, did this King succeed:
Whose State so many had the managing,
That they lost France, and made his England bleed:
Which oft our Stage hath showne; and for their sake,
In your faire minds let this acceptance take.

FINIS. The Life of Henry the Fift.

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

completion: The Chorus invites the audience to imagine Henry's triumphant return to England. London's citizens line the streets to greet him like a conquering Caesar. The Chorus apologizes for abbreviating the historical story. He makes no mention of the further English invasions that took place after Agincourt, from 1416 to 1419, and the play now jumps forward to the Treaty of Troyes, which was signed by England and France in 1420.


prompt:
Chapter: ACT 1. SCENE I.
Rome. Before the Capitol

Flourish. Enter the TRIBUNES and SENATORS aloft; and then enter
below
SATURNINUS and his followers at one door, and BASSIANUS and his
followers
at the other, with drums and trumpets

  SATURNINUS. Noble patricians, patrons of my right,
    Defend the justice of my cause with arms;
    And, countrymen, my loving followers,
    Plead my successive title with your swords.
    I am his first born son that was the last
    That wore the imperial diadem of Rome;
    Then let my father's honours live in me,
    Nor wrong mine age with this indignity.
  BASSIANUS. Romans, friends, followers, favourers of my right,
    If ever Bassianus, Caesar's son,
    Were gracious in the eyes of royal Rome,
    Keep then this passage to the Capitol;
    And suffer not dishonour to approach
    The imperial seat, to virtue consecrate,
    To justice, continence, and nobility;
    But let desert in pure election shine;
    And, Romans, fight for freedom in your choice.

        Enter MARCUS ANDRONICUS aloft, with the crown

  MARCUS. Princes, that strive by factions and by friends
    Ambitiously for rule and empery,
    Know that the people of Rome, for whom we stand
    A special party, have by common voice
    In election for the Roman empery
    Chosen Andronicus, surnamed Pius
    For many good and great deserts to Rome.
    A nobler man, a braver warrior,
    Lives not this day within the city walls.
    He by the Senate is accited home,
    From weary wars against the barbarous Goths,
    That with his sons, a terror to our foes,
    Hath yok'd a nation strong, train'd up in arms.
    Ten years are spent since first he undertook
    This cause of Rome, and chastised with arms
    Our enemies' pride; five times he hath return'd
    Bleeding to Rome, bearing his valiant sons
    In coffins from the field; and at this day
    To the monument of that Andronici
    Done sacrifice of expiation,
    And slain the noblest prisoner of the Goths.
    And now at last, laden with honour's spoils,
    Returns the good Andronicus to Rome,
    Renowned Titus, flourishing in arms.
    Let us entreat, by honour of his name
    Whom worthily you would have now succeed,
    And in the Capitol and Senate's right,
    Whom you pretend to honour and adore,
    That you withdraw you and abate your strength,
    Dismiss your followers, and, as suitors should,
    Plead your deserts in peace and humbleness.
  SATURNINUS. How fair the Tribune speaks to calm my thoughts.
  BASSIANUS. Marcus Andronicus, so I do affy
    In thy uprightness and integrity,
    And so I love and honour thee and thine,
    Thy noble brother Titus and his sons,
    And her to whom my thoughts are humbled all,
    Gracious Lavinia, Rome's rich ornament,
    That I will here dismiss my loving friends,
    And to my fortunes and the people's favour
    Commit my cause in balance to be weigh'd.
                                Exeunt the soldiers of BASSIANUS
  SATURNINUS. Friends, that have been thus forward in my right,
    I thank you all and here dismiss you all,
    And to the love and favour of my country
    Commit myself, my person, and the cause.
                               Exeunt the soldiers of SATURNINUS
    Rome, be as just and gracious unto me
    As I am confident and kind to thee.
    Open the gates and let me in.
  BASSIANUS. Tribunes, and me, a poor competitor.
                    [Flourish. They go up into the Senate House]

                      Enter a CAPTAIN

  CAPTAIN. Romans, make way. The good Andronicus,
    Patron of virtue, Rome's best champion,
    Successful in the battles that he fights,
    With honour and with fortune is return'd
    From where he circumscribed with his sword
    And brought to yoke the enemies of Rome.

        Sound drums and trumpets, and then enter MARTIUS
        and MUTIUS, two of TITUS' sons; and then two men
        bearing a coffin covered with black; then LUCIUS
        and QUINTUS, two other sons; then TITUS ANDRONICUS;
        and then TAMORA the Queen of Goths, with her three
        sons, ALARBUS, DEMETRIUS, and CHIRON, with AARON the
        Moor, and others,  as many as can be. Then set down
        the coffin and TITUS speaks

  TITUS. Hail, Rome, victorious in thy mourning weeds!
    Lo, as the bark that hath discharg'd her fraught
    Returns with precious lading to the bay
    From whence at first she weigh'd her anchorage,
    Cometh Andronicus, bound with laurel boughs,
    To re-salute his country with his tears,
    Tears of true joy for his return to Rome.
    Thou great defender of this Capitol,
    Stand gracious to the rites that we intend!
    Romans, of five and twenty valiant sons,
    Half of the number that King Priam had,
    Behold the poor remains, alive and dead!
    These that survive let Rome reward with love;
    These that I bring unto their latest home,
    With burial amongst their ancestors.
    Here Goths have given me leave to sheathe my sword.
    Titus, unkind, and careless of thine own,
    Why suffer'st thou thy sons, unburied yet,
    To hover on the dreadful shore of Styx?
    Make way to lay them by their brethren.
                                            [They open the tomb]
    There greet in silence, as the dead are wont,
    And sleep in peace, slain in your country's wars.
    O sacred receptacle of my joys,
    Sweet cell of virtue and nobility,
    How many sons hast thou of mine in store
    That thou wilt never render to me more!
  LUCIUS. Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths,
    That we may hew his limbs, and on a pile
    Ad manes fratrum sacrifice his flesh
    Before this earthy prison of their bones,
    That so the shadows be not unappeas'd,
    Nor we disturb'd with prodigies on earth.
  TITUS. I give him you- the noblest that survives,
    The eldest son of this distressed queen.
  TAMORA. Stay, Roman brethen! Gracious conqueror,
    Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed,
    A mother's tears in passion for her son;
    And if thy sons were ever dear to thee,
    O, think my son to be as dear to me!
    Sufficeth not that we are brought to Rome
    To beautify thy triumphs, and return
    Captive to thee and to thy Roman yoke;
    But must my sons be slaughtered in the streets
    For valiant doings in their country's cause?
    O, if to fight for king and commonweal
    Were piety in thine, it is in these.
    Andronicus, stain not thy tomb with blood.
    Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods?
    Draw near them then in being merciful.
    Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge.
    Thrice-noble Titus, spare my first-born son.
  TITUS. Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me.
    These are their brethren, whom your Goths beheld
    Alive and dead; and for their brethren slain
    Religiously they ask a sacrifice.
    To this your son is mark'd, and die he must
    T' appease their groaning shadows that are gone.
  LUCIUS. Away with him, and make a fire straight;
    And with our swords, upon a pile of wood,
    Let's hew his limbs till they be clean consum'd.
                                Exeunt TITUS' SONS, with ALARBUS
  TAMORA. O cruel, irreligious piety!
  CHIRON. Was never Scythia half so barbarous!
  DEMETRIUS. Oppose not Scythia to ambitious Rome.
    Alarbus goes to rest, and we survive
    To tremble under Titus' threat'ning look.
    Then, madam, stand resolv'd, but hope withal
    The self-same gods that arm'd the Queen of Troy
    With opportunity of sharp revenge
    Upon the Thracian tyrant in his tent
    May favour Tamora, the Queen of Goths-
    When Goths were Goths and Tamora was queen-
    To quit the bloody wrongs upon her foes.

            Re-enter LUCIUS, QUINTUS, MARTIUS, and
   MUTIUS, the sons of ANDRONICUS, with their swords bloody

  LUCIUS. See, lord and father, how we have perform'd
    Our Roman rites: Alarbus' limbs are lopp'd,
    And entrails feed the sacrificing fire,
    Whose smoke like incense doth perfume the sky.
    Remaineth nought but to inter our brethren,
    And with loud 'larums welcome them to Rome.
  TITUS. Let it be so, and let Andronicus
    Make this his latest farewell to their souls.
                 [Sound trumpets and lay the coffin in the tomb]
    In peace and honour rest you here, my sons;
    Rome's readiest champions, repose you here in rest,
    Secure from worldly chances and mishaps!
    Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells,
    Here grow no damned grudges, here are no storms,
    No noise, but silence and eternal sleep.
    In peace and honour rest you here, my sons!

                       Enter LAVINIA

  LAVINIA. In peace and honour live Lord Titus long;
    My noble lord and father, live in fame!
    Lo, at this tomb my tributary tears
    I render for my brethren's obsequies;
    And at thy feet I kneel, with tears of joy
    Shed on this earth for thy return to Rome.
    O, bless me here with thy victorious hand,
    Whose fortunes Rome's best citizens applaud!
  TITUS. Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly reserv'd
    The cordial of mine age to glad my heart!
    Lavinia, live; outlive thy father's days,
    And fame's eternal date, for virtue's praise!

          Enter, above, MARCUS ANDRONICUS and TRIBUNES;
          re-enter SATURNINUS, BASSIANUS, and attendants

  MARCUS. Long live Lord Titus, my beloved brother,
    Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome!
  TITUS. Thanks, gentle Tribune, noble brother Marcus.
  MARCUS. And welcome, nephews, from successful wars,
    You that survive and you that sleep in fame.
    Fair lords, your fortunes are alike in all
    That in your country's service drew your swords;
    But safer triumph is this funeral pomp
    That hath aspir'd to Solon's happiness
    And triumphs over chance in honour's bed.
    Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome,
    Whose friend in justice thou hast ever been,
    Send thee by me, their Tribune and their trust,
    This palliament of white and spotless hue;
    And name thee in election for the empire
    With these our late-deceased Emperor's sons:
    Be candidatus then, and put it on,
    And help to set a head on headless Rome.
  TITUS. A better head her glorious body fits
    Than his that shakes for age and feebleness.
    What, should I don this robe and trouble you?
    Be chosen with proclamations to-day,
    To-morrow yield up rule, resign my life,
    And set abroach new business for you all?
    Rome, I have been thy soldier forty years,
    And led my country's strength successfully,
    And buried one and twenty valiant sons,
    Knighted in field, slain manfully in arms,
    In right and service of their noble country.
    Give me a staff of honour for mine age,
    But not a sceptre to control the world.
    Upright he held it, lords, that held it last.
  MARCUS. Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the empery.
  SATURNINUS. Proud and ambitious Tribune, canst thou tell?
  TITUS. Patience, Prince Saturninus.
  SATURNINUS. Romans, do me right.
    Patricians, draw your swords, and sheathe them not
    Till Saturninus be Rome's Emperor.
    Andronicus, would thou were shipp'd to hell
    Rather than rob me of the people's hearts!
  LUCIUS. Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good
    That noble-minded Titus means to thee!
  TITUS. Content thee, Prince; I will restore to thee
    The people's hearts, and wean them from themselves.
  BASSIANUS. Andronicus, I do not flatter thee,
    But honour thee, and will do till I die.
    My faction if thou strengthen with thy friends,
    I will most thankful be; and thanks to men
    Of noble minds is honourable meed.
  TITUS. People of Rome, and people's Tribunes here,
    I ask your voices and your suffrages:
    Will ye bestow them friendly on Andronicus?
  TRIBUNES. To gratify the good Andronicus,
    And gratulate his safe return to Rome,
    The people will accept whom he admits.
  TITUS. Tribunes, I thank you; and this suit I make,
    That you create our Emperor's eldest son,
    Lord Saturnine; whose virtues will, I hope,
    Reflect on Rome as Titan's rays on earth,
    And ripen justice in this commonweal.
    Then, if you will elect by my advice,
    Crown him, and say 'Long live our Emperor!'
  MARCUS. With voices and applause of every sort,
    Patricians and plebeians, we create
    Lord Saturninus Rome's great Emperor;
    And say 'Long live our Emperor Saturnine!'
                           [A long flourish till they come down]
  SATURNINUS. Titus Andronicus, for thy favours done
    To us in our election this day
    I give thee thanks in part of thy deserts,
    And will with deeds requite thy gentleness;
    And for an onset, Titus, to advance
    Thy name and honourable family,
    Lavinia will I make my empress,
    Rome's royal mistress, mistress of my heart,
    And in the sacred Pantheon her espouse.
    Tell me, Andronicus, doth this motion please thee?
  TITUS. It doth, my worthy lord, and in this match
    I hold me highly honoured of your Grace,
    And here in sight of Rome, to Saturnine,
    King and commander of our commonweal,
    The wide world's Emperor, do I consecrate
    My sword, my chariot, and my prisoners,
    Presents well worthy Rome's imperious lord;
    Receive them then, the tribute that I owe,
    Mine honour's ensigns humbled at thy feet.
  SATURNINUS. Thanks, noble Titus, father of my life.
    How proud I am of thee and of thy gifts
    Rome shall record; and when I do forget
    The least of these unspeakable deserts,
    Romans, forget your fealty to me.
  TITUS.  [To TAMORA]  Now, madam, are you prisoner to an
emperor;
    To him that for your honour and your state
    Will use you nobly and your followers.
  SATURNINUS.  [Aside]  A goodly lady, trust me; of the hue
    That I would choose, were I to choose anew.-
    Clear up, fair Queen, that cloudy countenance;
    Though chance of war hath wrought this change of cheer,
    Thou com'st not to be made a scorn in Rome-
    Princely shall be thy usage every way.
    Rest on my word, and let not discontent
    Daunt all your hopes. Madam, he comforts you
    Can make you greater than the Queen of Goths.
    Lavinia, you are not displeas'd with this?
  LAVINIA. Not I, my lord, sith true nobility
    Warrants these words in princely courtesy.
  SATURNINUS. Thanks, sweet Lavinia. Romans, let us go.
    Ransomless here we set our prisoners free.
    Proclaim our honours, lords, with trump and drum.
                                                      [Flourish]
  BASSIANUS. Lord Titus, by your leave, this maid is mine.
                                               [Seizing LAVINIA]
  TITUS. How, sir! Are you in earnest then, my lord?
  BASSIANUS. Ay, noble Titus, and resolv'd withal
    To do myself this reason and this right.
  MARCUS. Suum cuique is our Roman justice:
    This prince in justice seizeth but his own.
  LUCIUS. And that he will and shall, if Lucius live.
  TITUS. Traitors, avaunt! Where is the Emperor's guard?
    Treason, my lord- Lavinia is surpris'd!
  SATURNINUS. Surpris'd! By whom?
  BASSIANUS. By him that justly may
    Bear his betroth'd from all the world away.
                        Exeunt BASSIANUS and MARCUS with LAVINIA
  MUTIUS. Brothers, help to convey her hence away,
    And with my sword I'll keep this door safe.
                             Exeunt LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS
  TITUS. Follow, my lord, and I'll soon bring her back.
  MUTIUS. My lord, you pass not here.
  TITUS. What, villain boy!
    Bar'st me my way in Rome?
  MUTIUS. Help, Lucius, help!
            TITUS kills him. During the fray, exeunt SATURNINUS,
                            TAMORA, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON, and AARON

                      Re-enter Lucius

  LUCIUS. My lord, you are unjust, and more than so:
    In wrongful quarrel you have slain your son.
  TITUS. Nor thou nor he are any sons of mine;
    My sons would never so dishonour me.

                 Re-enter aloft the EMPEROR
      with TAMORA and her two Sons, and AARON the Moor

    Traitor, restore Lavinia to the Emperor.
  LUCIUS. Dead, if you will; but not to be his wife,
    That is another's lawful promis'd love.                 Exit
  SATURNINUS. No, Titus, no; the Emperor needs her not,
    Nor her, nor thee, nor any of thy stock.
    I'll trust by leisure him that mocks me once;
    Thee never, nor thy traitorous haughty sons,
    Confederates all thus to dishonour me.
    Was there none else in Rome to make a stale
    But Saturnine? Full well, Andronicus,
    Agree these deeds with that proud brag of thine
    That saidst I begg'd the empire at thy hands.
  TITUS. O monstrous! What reproachful words are these?
  SATURNINUS. But go thy ways; go, give that changing piece
    To him that flourish'd for her with his sword.
    A valiant son-in-law thou shalt enjoy;
    One fit to bandy with thy lawless sons,
    To ruffle in the commonwealth of Rome.
  TITUS. These words are razors to my wounded heart.
  SATURNINUS. And therefore, lovely Tamora, Queen of Goths,
    That, like the stately Phoebe 'mongst her nymphs,
    Dost overshine the gallant'st dames of Rome,
    If thou be pleas'd with this my sudden choice,
    Behold, I choose thee, Tamora, for my bride
    And will create thee Empress of Rome.
    Speak, Queen of Goths, dost thou applaud my choice?
    And here I swear by all the Roman gods-
    Sith priest and holy water are so near,
    And tapers burn so bright, and everything
    In readiness for Hymenaeus stand-
    I will not re-salute the streets of Rome,
    Or climb my palace, till from forth this place
    I lead espous'd my bride along with me.
  TAMORA. And here in sight of heaven to Rome I swear,
    If Saturnine advance the Queen of Goths,
    She will a handmaid be to his desires,
    A loving nurse, a mother to his youth.
  SATURNINUS. Ascend, fair Queen, Pantheon. Lords, accompany
    Your noble Emperor and his lovely bride,
    Sent by the heavens for Prince Saturnine,
    Whose wisdom hath her fortune conquered;
    There shall we consummate our spousal rites.
                                            Exeunt all but TITUS
  TITUS. I am not bid to wait upon this bride.
  TITUS, when wert thou wont to walk alone,
    Dishonoured thus, and challenged of wrongs?

                      Re-enter MARCUS,
        and TITUS' SONS, LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS

  MARCUS. O Titus, see, O, see what thou hast done!
    In a bad quarrel slain a virtuous son.
  TITUS. No, foolish Tribune, no; no son of mine-
    Nor thou, nor these, confederates in the deed
    That hath dishonoured all our family;
    Unworthy brother and unworthy sons!
  LUCIUS. But let us give him burial, as becomes;
    Give Mutius burial with our bretheren.
  TITUS. Traitors, away! He rests not in this tomb.
    This monument five hundred years hath stood,
    Which I have sumptuously re-edified;
    Here none but soldiers and Rome's servitors
    Repose in fame; none basely slain in brawls.
    Bury him where you can, he comes not here.
  MARCUS. My lord, this is impiety in you.
    My nephew Mutius' deeds do plead for him;
    He must be buried with his bretheren.
  QUINTUS & MARTIUS. And shall, or him we will accompany.
  TITUS. 'And shall!' What villain was it spake that word?
  QUINTUS. He that would vouch it in any place but here.
  TITUS. What, would you bury him in my despite?
  MARCUS. No, noble Titus, but entreat of thee
    To pardon Mutius and to bury him.
  TITUS. Marcus, even thou hast struck upon my crest,
    And with these boys mine honour thou hast wounded.
    My foes I do repute you every one;
    So trouble me no more, but get you gone.
  MARTIUS. He is not with himself; let us withdraw.
  QUINTUS. Not I, till Mutius' bones be buried.
                                [The BROTHER and the SONS kneel]
  MARCUS. Brother, for in that name doth nature plead-
  QUINTUS. Father, and in that name doth nature speak-
  TITUS. Speak thou no more, if all the rest will speed.
  MARCUS. Renowned Titus, more than half my soul-
  LUCIUS. Dear father, soul and substance of us all-
  MARCUS. Suffer thy brother Marcus to inter
    His noble nephew here in virtue's nest,
    That died in honour and Lavinia's cause.
    Thou art a Roman- be not barbarous.
    The Greeks upon advice did bury Ajax,
    That slew himself; and wise Laertes' son
    Did graciously plead for his funerals.
    Let not young Mutius, then, that was thy joy,
    Be barr'd his entrance here.
  TITUS. Rise, Marcus, rise;
    The dismal'st day is this that e'er I saw,
    To be dishonoured by my sons in Rome!
    Well, bury him, and bury me the next.
                                   [They put MUTIUS in the tomb]
  LUCIUS. There lie thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy friends,
    Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb.
  ALL.  [Kneeling]  No man shed tears for noble Mutius;
    He lives in fame that died in virtue's cause.
  MARCUS. My lord- to step out of these dreary dumps-
    How comes it that the subtle Queen of Goths
    Is of a sudden thus advanc'd in Rome?
  TITUS. I know not, Marcus, but I know it is-
    Whether by device or no, the heavens can tell.
    Is she not, then, beholding to the man
    That brought her for this high good turn so far?
  MARCUS. Yes, and will nobly him remunerate.

           Flourish. Re-enter the EMPEROR, TAMORA
        and her two SONS, with the MOOR, at one door;
    at the other door, BASSIANUS and LAVINIA, with others

  SATURNINUS. So, Bassianus, you have play'd your prize:
    God give you joy, sir, of your gallant bride!
  BASSIANUS. And you of yours, my lord! I say no more,
    Nor wish no less; and so I take my leave.
  SATURNINUS. Traitor, if Rome have law or we have power,
    Thou and thy faction shall repent this rape.
  BASSIANUS. Rape, call you it, my lord, to seize my own,
    My true betrothed love, and now my wife?
    But let the laws of Rome determine all;
    Meanwhile am I possess'd of that is mine.
  SATURNINUS. 'Tis good, sir. You are very short with us;
    But if we live we'll be as sharp with you.
  BASSIANUS. My lord, what I have done, as best I may,
    Answer I must, and shall do with my life.
    Only thus much I give your Grace to know:
    By all the duties that I owe to Rome,
    This noble gentleman, Lord Titus here,
    Is in opinion and in honour wrong'd,
    That, in the rescue of Lavinia,
    With his own hand did slay his youngest son,
    In zeal to you, and highly mov'd to wrath
    To be controll'd in that he frankly gave.
    Receive him then to favour, Saturnine,
    That hath express'd himself in all his deeds
    A father and a friend to thee and Rome.
  TITUS. Prince Bassianus, leave to plead my deeds.
    'Tis thou and those that have dishonoured me.
    Rome and the righteous heavens be my judge
    How I have lov'd and honoured Saturnine!
  TAMORA. My worthy lord, if ever Tamora
    Were gracious in those princely eyes of thine,
    Then hear me speak indifferently for all;
    And at my suit, sweet, pardon what is past.
  SATURNINUS. What, madam! be dishonoured openly,
    And basely put it up without revenge?
  TAMORA. Not so, my lord; the gods of Rome forfend
    I should be author to dishonour you!
    But on mine honour dare I undertake
    For good Lord Titus' innocence in all,
    Whose fury not dissembled speaks his griefs.
    Then at my suit look graciously on him;
    Lose not so noble a friend on vain suppose,
    Nor with sour looks afflict his gentle heart.
    [Aside to SATURNINUS]  My lord, be rul'd by me,
      be won at last;
    Dissemble all your griefs and discontents.
    You are but newly planted in your throne;
    Lest, then, the people, and patricians too,
    Upon a just survey take Titus' part,
    And so supplant you for ingratitude,
    Which Rome reputes to be a heinous sin,
    Yield at entreats, and then let me alone:
    I'll find a day to massacre them all,
    And raze their faction and their family,
    The cruel father and his traitorous sons,
    To whom I sued for my dear son's life;
    And make them know what 'tis to let a queen
    Kneel in the streets and beg for grace in vain.-
    Come, come, sweet Emperor; come, Andronicus.
    Take up this good old man, and cheer the heart
    That dies in tempest of thy angry frown.
  SATURNINUS. Rise, Titus, rise; my Empress hath prevail'd.
  TITUS. I thank your Majesty and her, my lord;
    These words, these looks, infuse new life in me.
  TAMORA. Titus, I am incorporate in Rome,
    A Roman now adopted happily,
    And must advise the Emperor for his good.
    This day all quarrels die, Andronicus;
    And let it be mine honour, good my lord,
    That I have reconcil'd your friends and you.
    For you, Prince Bassianus, I have pass'd
    My word and promise to the Emperor
    That you will be more mild and tractable.
    And fear not, lords- and you, Lavinia.
    By my advice, all humbled on your knees,
    You shall ask pardon of his Majesty.
  LUCIUS. We do, and vow to heaven and to his Highness
    That what we did was mildly as we might,
    Tend'ring our sister's honour and our own.
  MARCUS. That on mine honour here do I protest.
  SATURNINUS. Away, and talk not; trouble us no more.
  TAMORA. Nay, nay, sweet Emperor, we must all be friends.
    The Tribune and his nephews kneel for grace.
    I will not be denied. Sweet heart, look back.
  SATURNINUS. Marcus, for thy sake, and thy brother's here,
    And at my lovely Tamora's entreats,
    I do remit these young men's heinous faults.
    Stand up.
    Lavinia, though you left me like a churl,
    I found a friend; and sure as death I swore
    I would not part a bachelor from the priest.
    Come, if the Emperor's court can feast two brides,
    You are my guest, Lavinia, and your friends.
    This day shall be a love-day, Tamora.
  TITUS. To-morrow, and it please your Majesty
    To hunt the panther and the hart with me,
    With horn and hound we'll give your Grace bonjour.
  SATURNINUS. Be it so, Titus, and gramercy too.
                                          Exeunt. Sound trumpets

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

completion: Titus Andronicus opens in the twilight of the Roman Empire, in the aftermath of the Emperor's death. His two sons - Saturninus, his firstborn, and Bassianus, his second - are pleading to the Roman elite for their respective causes. Saturninus argues that because he is the emperor's eldest son the right to succession is naturally his, while Bassianus counters that Saturninus is unfit for the position and that he, the more honorable son, should succeed their father. This debate is interrupted when Marcus Andronicus, the tribune of Rome, announces that the people of Rome have elected his brother, Titus, to be the next emperor, on the basis of his recent successes in the wars against the Goths. Saturninus and Bassianus dismiss their factions and Titus enters victorious from battle, though greatly grief-stricken because he has lost twenty-one of his twenty-five sons. Titus' eldest remaining son, Lucius, orders that the eldest prince of the Goths, Alarbus, who has been taken in battle, be sacrificed to appease the Roman gods. The queen of the Goths, Tamora, falls to her knees to beg Titus not to kill her son; Titus, however, orders the sacrifice to commence and Tamora and her two remaining sons, Chiron and Demetrius, both swear that Romans are far more barbaric than Goths. Following Alarbus' death, Titus' beloved daughter, Lavinia, enters to receive her father's blessing. Close behind is Marcus, who announces that Titus is the new emperor. Titus rejects the honor, saying that he is too old and feeble to take on the role of emperor. Meanwhile, Saturninus rouses up his faction to seize the empery for himself; this action is rendered inconsequential, however, when Titus, with the blessing of the Tribune and above the protestations of Bassianus, bestows the empery upon Saturninus. Immediately upon becoming emperor, Saturninus declares Lavinia to be his wife, though she was promised to his brother Bassianus. Titus readily agrees to the match. Saturninus then turns his attention to the Goth prisoners, and finds himself instantly smitten by Tamora. He promises the Goth queen that she shall be made greater in Rome than she ever was as a Goth. As he is leaving with his entourage, Bassianus seizes Lavinia, declaring that she is rightfully his; Titus' sons, knowing that Bassianus and Lavinia were betrothed, defend Bassianus' right to seize her, an action that Titus interprets as treason. Titus pursues them and in his rage slays Mutius, one of his sons. Saturninus, for his part, declares Lavinia's fleeing to be Titus' fault and rebukes the general, while in his next breath he takes Tamora for his queen; they depart to consummate their marriage. Marcus and Lucius enter bearing Mutius and insisting that he receive proper funeral rites. Titus initially refuses, declaring Mutius and the rest of his family to be base traitors. However, rejected by the emperor and estranged from his family, Titus eventually agrees to entomb Mutius after his family kneels and begs him. Saturninus and Tamora return from their consummation, and Saturninus immediately rails against Bassianus and Titus. He threatens revenge until Tamora, the newly-crowned queen, interjects and entreats him to forgive them. She whispers to Saturninus that she will "find a day to massacre them all," promising revenge on Titus because he sacrificed Alarbus despite her pleas for his life. Saturninus agrees to forgive Titus and the rest of his family. Having regained the emperor's favor , Titus invites Saturninus to join him in a hunt the following day.