prompt:
Chapter: ACT IV. SCENE I.

A dark Cave. In the middle, a Caldron Boiling.

[Thunder. Enter the three Witches.]

FIRST WITCH.
Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd.

SECOND WITCH.
Thrice; and once the hedge-pig whin'd.

THIRD WITCH.
Harpier cries:--"tis time, 'tis time.

FIRST WITCH.
Round about the caldron go;
In the poison'd entrails throw.--
Toad, that under cold stone,
Days and nights has thirty-one
Swelter'd venom sleeping got,
Boil thou first i' the charmed pot!

ALL.
Double, double, toil and trouble;
Fire, burn; and caldron, bubble.

SECOND WITCH.
Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the caldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt, and toe of frog,
Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting,
Lizard's leg, and howlet's wing,--
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

ALL.
Double, double, toil and trouble;
Fire, burn; and caldron, bubble.

THIRD WITCH.
Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,
Witch's mummy, maw and gulf
Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark,
Root of hemlock digg'd i' the dark,
Liver of blaspheming Jew,
Gall of goat, and slips of yew
Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse,
Nose of Turk, and Tartar's lips,
Finger of birth-strangl'd babe
Ditch-deliver'd by a drab,--
Make the gruel thick and slab:
Add thereto a tiger's chaudron,
For the ingredients of our caldron.

ALL.
Double, double, toil and trouble;
Fire, burn; and caldron, bubble.

SECOND WITCH.
Cool it with a baboon's blood,
Then the charm is firm and good.

[Enter Hecate.]

HECATE.
O, well done! I commend your pains;
And everyone shall share i' the gains.
And now about the cauldron sing,
Like elves and fairies in a ring,
Enchanting all that you put in.

Song.
Black spirits and white, red spirits and gray;
Mingle, mingle, mingle, you that mingle may.

[Exit Hecate.]

SECOND WITCH.
By the pricking of my thumbs,
Something wicked this way comes:--
Open, locks, whoever knocks!

[Enter Macbeth.]

MACBETH.
How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags!
What is't you do?

ALL.
A deed without a name.

MACBETH.
I conjure you, by that which you profess,--
Howe'er you come to know it,--answer me:
Though you untie the winds, and let them fight
Against the churches; though the yesty waves
Confound and swallow navigation up;
Though bladed corn be lodg'd, and trees blown down;
Though castles topple on their warders' heads;
Though palaces and pyramids do slope
Their heads to their foundations; though the treasure
Of nature's germins tumble all together,
Even till destruction sicken,--answer me
To what I ask you.

FIRST WITCH.
Speak.

SECOND WITCH.
Demand.

THIRD WITCH.
We'll answer.

FIRST WITCH.
Say, if thou'dst rather hear it from our mouths,
Or from our masters?

MACBETH.
Call 'em, let me see 'em.

FIRST WITCH.
Pour in sow's blood, that hath eaten
Her nine farrow; grease that's sweaten
From the murderer's gibbet throw
Into the flame.

ALL.
Come, high or low;
Thyself and office deftly show!

[Thunder. An Apparition of an armed Head rises.]

MACBETH.
Tell me, thou unknown power,--

FIRST WITCH.
He knows thy thought:
Hear his speech, but say thou naught.

APPARITION.
Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! Beware Macduff;
Beware the Thane of Fife.--Dismiss me:--enough.

[Descends.]

MACBETH.
Whate'er thou art, for thy good caution, thanks;
Thou hast harp'd my fear aright:--but one word more,--

FIRST WITCH.
He will not be commanded: here's another,
More potent than the first.

[Thunder. An Apparition of a bloody Child rises.]

APPARITION.--
Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth!

MACBETH.
Had I three ears, I'd hear thee.

APPARITION.
Be bloody, bold, and resolute; laugh to scorn
The power of man, for none of woman born
Shall harm Macbeth.

[Descends.]

MACBETH.
Then live, Macduff: what need I fear of thee?
But yet I'll make assurance double sure,
And take a bond of fate: thou shalt not live;
That I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies,
And sleep in spite of thunder.--What is this,

[Thunder. An Apparition of a Child crowned, with a tree in his
hand, rises.]

That rises like the issue of a king,
And wears upon his baby brow the round
And top of sovereignty?

ALL.
Listen, but speak not to't.

APPARITION.
Be lion-mettled, proud; and take no care
Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are:
Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be, until
Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill
Shall come against him.

[Descends.]

MACBETH.
That will never be:
Who can impress the forest; bid the tree
Unfix his earth-bound root? Sweet bodements, good!
Rebellion's head, rise never till the wood
Of Birnam rise, and our high-plac'd Macbeth
Shall live the lease of nature, pay his breath
To time and mortal custom.--Yet my heart
Throbs to know one thing: tell me,--if your art
Can tell so much,--shall Banquo's issue ever
Reign in this kingdom?

ALL.
Seek to know no more.

MACBETH.
I will be satisfied: deny me this,
And an eternal curse fall on you! Let me know:--
Why sinks that cauldron? and what noise is this?

[Hautboys.]

FIRST WITCH.
Show!

SECOND WITCH.
Show!

THIRD WITCH.
Show!

ALL.
Show his eyes, and grieve his heart;
Come like shadows, so depart!

[Eight kings appear, and pass over in order, the last with a
glass in his hand; Banquo following.]

MACBETH.
Thou are too like the spirit of Banquo; down!
Thy crown does sear mine eyeballs:--and thy hair,
Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first;--
A third is like the former.--Filthy hags!
Why do you show me this?--A fourth!--Start, eyes!
What, will the line stretch out to the crack of doom?
Another yet!--A seventh!--I'll see no more:--
And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glass
Which shows me many more; and some I see
That twofold balls and treble sceptres carry:
Horrible sight!--Now I see 'tis true;
For the blood-bolter'd Banquo smiles upon me,
And points at them for his.--What! is this so?

FIRST WITCH.
Ay, sir, all this is so:--but why
Stands Macbeth thus amazedly?--
Come,sisters, cheer we up his sprites,
And show the best of our delights;
I'll charm the air to give a sound,
While you perform your antic round;
That this great king may kindly say,
Our duties did his welcome pay.

[Music. The Witches dance, and then vanish.]

MACBETH.
Where are they? Gone?--Let this pernicious hour
Stand aye accursed in the calendar!--
Come in, without there!

[Enter Lennox.]

LENNOX.
What's your grace's will?

MACBETH.
Saw you the weird sisters?

LENNOX.
No, my lord.

MACBETH.
Came they not by you?

LENNOX.
No indeed, my lord.

MACBETH.
Infected be the air whereon they ride;
And damn'd all those that trust them!--I did hear
The galloping of horse: who was't came by?

LENNOX.
'Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word
Macduff is fled to England.

MACBETH.
Fled to England!

LENNOX.
Ay, my good lord.

MACBETH.
Time, thou anticipat'st my dread exploits:
The flighty purpose never is o'ertook
Unless the deed go with it: from this moment
The very firstlings of my heart shall be
The firstlings of my hand. And even now,
To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and done:
The castle of Macduff I will surprise;
Seize upon Fife; give to the edge o' the sword
His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls
That trace him in his line. No boasting like a fool;
This deed I'll do before this purpose cool:
But no more sights!--Where are these gentlemen?
Come, bring me where they are.

[Exeunt.]

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

completion: At the witches' haunt, the weird sisters and Hecate are busy preparing the potion that will bring about Macbeth's ruin. Macbeth enters and asks to speak to the witches' masters about the future. An apparition takes the form of a helmeted head and tells Macbeth to beware the Thane of Fife. A second specter appears in the form of a bloody child. It tells Macbeth to be brave because "none of woman born" can kill him. Then, a third spirit emerges in the form of a crowned child with a tree in its hand. It tells Macbeth that he shall never be vanquished until the Great Birnam Wood travels to high Dunsinane Hill. Macbeth becomes relieved, because he laughs at the idea of trees moving. As a final question, Macbeth asks the witches if Banquo's sons will ever reign in Scotland. Eight ghosts with crowns emerge, who represent the future sons of Banquo. Banquo himself appears at the end of the line with a mirror, thus implying an infinite number of descendants. Stupefied, Macbeth cannot believe his eyes and is angered to realize that despite all of his work, he wears a "fruitless crown. The witches disappear and Lennox enters the haunt. He informs Macbeth that Macduff has run off to England. Macbeth decides that he must act out all of his thoughts and impulses. He determines to kill Macduff's wife and children as his first step of revenge


prompt:
Chapter: SCENE II.

Fife. A Room in Macduff's Castle.

[Enter Lady Macduff, her Son, and Ross.]

LADY MACDUFF.
What had he done, to make him fly the land?

ROSS.
You must have patience, madam.

LADY MACDUFF.
He had none:
His flight was madness: when our actions do not,
Our fears do make us traitors.

ROSS.
You know not
Whether it was his wisdom or his fear.

LADY MACDUFF.
Wisdom! to leave his wife, to leave his babes,
His mansion, and his titles, in a place
From whence himself does fly? He loves us not:
He wants the natural touch; for the poor wren,
The most diminutive of birds, will fight,
Her young ones in her nest, against the owl.
All is the fear, and nothing is the love;
As little is the wisdom, where the flight
So runs against all reason.

ROSS.
My dearest coz,
I pray you, school yourself: but, for your husband,
He is noble, wise, Judicious, and best knows
The fits o' the season. I dare not speak much further:
But cruel are the times, when we are traitors,
And do not know ourselves; when we hold rumour
From what we fear, yet know not what we fear,
But float upon a wild and violent sea
Each way and move.--I take my leave of you:
Shall not be long but I'll be here again:
Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward
To what they were before.--My pretty cousin,
Blessing upon you!

LADY MACDUFF.
Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless.

ROSS.
I am so much a fool, should I stay longer,
It would be my disgrace and your discomfort:
I take my leave at once.

[Exit.]

LADY MACDUFF.
Sirrah, your father's dead;
And what will you do now? How will you live?

SON.
As birds do, mother.

LADY MACDUFF.
What, with worms and flies?

SON.
With what I get, I mean; and so do they.

LADY MACDUFF.
Poor bird! thou'dst never fear the net nor lime,
The pit-fall nor the gin.

SON.
Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are not set for.
My father is not dead, for all your saying.

LADY MACDUFF.
Yes, he is dead: how wilt thou do for father?

SON.
Nay, how will you do for a husband?

LADY MACDUFF.
Why, I can buy me twenty at any market.

SON.
Then you'll buy 'em to sell again.

LADY MACDUFF.
Thou speak'st with all thy wit; and yet, i' faith,
With wit enough for thee.

SON.
Was my father a traitor, mother?

LADY MACDUFF.
Ay, that he was.

SON.
What is a traitor?

LADY MACDUFF.
Why, one that swears and lies.

SON.
And be all traitors that do so?

LADY MACDUFF.
Everyone that does so is a traitor, and must be hanged.

SON.
And must they all be hanged that swear and lie?

LADY MACDUFF.
Every one.

SON.
Who must hang them?

LADY MACDUFF.
Why, the honest men.

SON.
Then the liars and swearers are fools: for there are liars
and swearers enow to beat the honest men and hang up them.

LADY MACDUFF.
Now, God help thee, poor monkey! But how wilt
thou do for a father?

SON.
If he were dead, you'ld weep for him: if you would not, it
were a good sign that I should quickly have a new father.

LADY MACDUFF.
Poor prattler, how thou talk'st!

[Enter a Messenger.]

MESSENGER.
Bless you, fair dame! I am not to you known,
Though in your state of honor I am perfect.
I doubt some danger does approach you nearly:
If you will take a homely man's advice,
Be not found here; hence, with your little ones.
To fright you thus, methinks, I am too savage;
To do worse to you were fell cruelty,
Which is too nigh your person. Heaven preserve you!
I dare abide no longer.

[Exit.]

LADY MACDUFF.
Whither should I fly?
I have done no harm. But I remember now
I am in this earthly world; where to do harm
Is often laudable; to do good sometime
Accounted dangerous folly:  why then, alas,
Do I put up that womanly defence,
To say I have done no harm?--What are these faces?

[Enter Murderers.]

FIRST MURDERER.
Where is your husband?

LADY MACDUFF.
I hope, in no place so unsanctified
Where such as thou mayst find him.

FIRST MURDERER.
He's a traitor.

SON.
Thou liest, thou shag-haar'd villain!

FIRST MURDERER.
What, you egg!

[Stabbing him.]

Young fry of treachery!

SON.
He has kill'd me, mother:
Run away, I pray you!

[Dies. Exit Lady Macduff, crying Murder, and pursued by the
Murderers.]

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

completion: Lady Macduff asks Ross why her husband has suddenly fled to England. She is not aware of the troubles between Macbeth and Macduff and does not realize that she is in danger. Lady Macduff decides that her husband left his family because he did not love them anymore. Ross tries to comfort her and warns her that Scotland is a dangerous place to be at the present. Lady Macduff tells her young son that Macduff is dead to ease the pain of his departure from the family. She also tells him that his father was a traitor. A messenger runs in and interrupts the mother-son conversation, telling Lady Macduff to escape while she can. A few moments later, murderers under the bidding of Macbeth enter the castle and kill Lady Macduff and her son


prompt:
Chapter: SCENE III.

England. Before the King's Palace.

[Enter Malcolm and Macduff.]

MALCOLM.
Let us seek out some desolate shade and there
Weep our sad bosoms empty.

MACDUFF.
Let us rather
Hold fast the mortal sword, and, like good men,
Bestride our down-fall'n birthdom: each new morn
New widows howl; new orphans cry; new sorrows
Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds
As if it felt with Scotland, and yell'd out
Like syllable of dolour.

MALCOLM.
What I believe, I'll wail;
What know, believe; and what I can redress,
As I shall find the time to friend, I will.
What you have spoke, it may be so perchance.
This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues,
Was once thought honest: you have loved him well;
He hath not touch'd you yet. I am young; but something
You may deserve of him through me; and wisdom
To offer up a weak, poor, innocent lamb
To appease an angry god.

MACDUFF.
I am not treacherous.

MALCOLM.
But Macbeth is.
A good and virtuous nature may recoil
In an imperial charge. But I shall crave your pardon;
That which you are, my thoughts cannot transpose;
Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell:
Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace,
Yet grace must still look so.

MACDUFF.
I have lost my hopes.

MALCOLM.
Perchance even there where I did find my doubts.
Why in that rawness left you wife and child,--
Those precious motives, those strong knots of love,--
Without leave-taking?--I pray you,
Let not my jealousies be your dishonors,
But mine own safeties:--you may be rightly just,
Whatever I shall think.

MACDUFF.
Bleed, bleed, poor country!
Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure,
For goodness dare not check thee! wear thou thy wrongs,
The title is affeer'd.--Fare thee well, lord:
I would not be the villain that thou think'st
For the whole space that's in the tyrant's grasp
And the rich East to boot.

MALCOLM.
Be not offended:
I speak not as in absolute fear of you.
I think our country sinks beneath the yoke;
It weeps, it bleeds; and each new day a gash
Is added to her wounds. I think, withal,
There would be hands uplifted in my right;
And here, from gracious England, have I offer
Of goodly thousands: but, for all this,
When I shall tread upon the tyrant's head,
Or wear it on my sword, yet my poor country
Shall have more vices than it had before;
More suffer, and more sundry ways than ever,
By him that shall succeed.

MACDUFF.
What should he be?

MALCOLM.
It is myself I mean: in whom I know
All the particulars of vice so grafted
That, when they shall be open'd, black Macbeth
Will seem as pure as snow; and the poor state
Esteem him as a lamb, being compar'd
With my confineless harms.

MACDUFF.
Not in the legions
Of horrid hell can come a devil more damn'd
In evils to top Macbeth.

MALCOLM.
I grant him bloody,
Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful,
Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin
That has a name: but there's no bottom, none,
In my voluptuousness: your wives, your daughters,
Your matrons, and your maids, could not fill up
The cistern of my lust; and my desire
All continent impediments would o'erbear,
That did oppose my will: better Macbeth
Than such an one to reign.

MACDUFF.
Boundless intemperance
In nature is a tyranny; it hath been
The untimely emptying of the happy throne,
And fall of many kings. But fear not yet
To take upon you what is yours: you may
Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty,
And yet seem cold, the time you may so hoodwink.
We have willing dames enough; there cannot be
That vulture in you, to devour so many
As will to greatness dedicate themselves,
Finding it so inclin'd.

MALCOLM.
With this there grows,
In my most ill-compos'd affection, such
A stanchless avarice, that, were I king,
I should cut off the nobles for their lands;
Desire his jewels, and this other's house:
And my more-having would be as a sauce
To make me hunger more; that I should forge
Quarrels unjust against the good and loyal,
Destroying them for wealth.

MACDUFF.
This avarice
Sticks deeper; grows with more pernicious root
Than summer-seeming lust; and it hath been
The sword of our slain kings: yet do not fear;
Scotland hath foysons to fill up your will,
Of your mere own: all these are portable,
With other graces weigh'd.

MALCOLM.
But I have none: the king-becoming graces,
As justice, verity, temperance, stableness,
Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness,
Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude,
I have no relish of them; but abound
In the division of each several crime,
Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I should
Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell,
Uproar the universal peace, confound
All unity on earth.

MACDUFF.
O Scotland, Scotland!

MALCOLM.
If such a one be fit to govern, speak:
I am as I have spoken.

MACDUFF.
Fit to govern!
No, not to live!--O nation miserable,
With an untitled tyrant bloody-scepter'd,
When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again,
Since that the truest issue of thy throne
By his own interdiction stands accurs'd
And does blaspheme his breed?--Thy royal father
Was a most sainted king; the queen that bore thee,
Oftener upon her knees than on her feet,
Died every day she lived. Fare-thee-well!
These evils thou repeat'st upon thyself
Have banish'd me from Scotland.--O my breast,
Thy hope ends here!

MALCOLM.
Macduff, this noble passion,
Child of integrity, hath from my soul
Wiped the black scruples, reconcil'd my thoughts
To thy good truth and honour. Devilish Macbeth
By many of these trains hath sought to win me
Into his power; and modest wisdom plucks me
From over-credulous haste: but God above
Deal between thee and me! for even now
I put myself to thy direction, and
Unspeak mine own detraction; here abjure
The taints and blames I laid upon myself,
For strangers to my nature. I am yet
Unknown to woman; never was forsworn;
Scarcely have coveted what was mine own;
At no time broke my faith; would not betray
The devil to his fellow; and delight
No less in truth than life: my first false speaking
Was this upon myself:--what I am truly,
Is thine and my poor country's to command:
Whither, indeed, before thy here-approach,
Old Siward, with ten thousand warlike men
Already at a point, was setting forth:
Now we'll together; and the chance of goodness
Be like our warranted quarrel! Why are you silent?

MACDUFF.
Such welcome and unwelcome things at once
'Tis hard to reconcile.

[Enter a Doctor.]

MALCOLM.
Well; more anon.--Comes the king forth, I pray you?

DOCTOR.
Ay, sir: there are a crew of wretched souls
That stay his cure: their malady convinces
The great assay of art; but, at his touch,
Such sanctity hath heaven given his hand,
They presently amend.

MALCOLM.
I thank you, doctor.

[Exit Doctor.]

MACDUFF.
What's the disease he means?

MALCOLM.
'Tis call'd the evil:
A most miraculous work in this good king;
Which often, since my here-remain in England,
I have seen him do. How he solicits heaven,
Himself best knows: but strangely-visited people,
All swoln and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye,
The mere despair of surgery, he cures;
Hanging a golden stamp about their necks,
Put on with holy prayers: and 'tis spoken,
To the succeeding royalty he leaves
The healing benediction. With this strange virtue,
He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy;
And sundry blessings hang about his throne,
That speak him full of grace.

MACDUFF.
See, who comes here?

MALCOLM.
My countryman; but yet I know him not.

[Enter Ross.]

MACDUFF.
My ever-gentle cousin, welcome hither.

MALCOLM.
I know him now. Good God, betimes remove
The means that makes us strangers!

ROSS.
Sir, amen.

MACDUFF.
Stands Scotland where it did?

ROSS.
Alas, poor country,--
Almost afraid to know itself! It cannot
Be call'd our mother, but our grave: where nothing,
But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile;
Where sighs, and groans, and shrieks, that rent the air,
Are made, not mark'd; where violent sorrow seems
A modern ecstasy; the dead man's knell
Is there scarce ask'd for who; and good men's lives
Expire before the flowers in their caps,
Dying or ere they sicken.

MACDUFF.
O, relation
Too nice, and yet too true!

MALCOLM.
What's the newest grief?

ROSS.
That of an hour's age doth hiss the speaker;
Each minute teems a new one.

MACDUFF.
How does my wife?

ROSS.
Why, well.

MACDUFF.
And all my children?

ROSS.
Well too.

MACDUFF.
The tyrant has not batter'd at their peace?

ROSS.
No; they were well at peace when I did leave 'em.

MACDUFF.
Be not a niggard of your speech: how goes't?

ROSS.
When I came hither to transport the tidings,
Which I have heavily borne, there ran a rumour
Of many worthy fellows that were out;
Which was to my belief witness'd the rather,
For that I saw the tyrant's power a-foot:
Now is the time of help; your eye in Scotland
Would create soldiers, make our women fight,
To doff their dire distresses.

MALCOLM.
Be't their comfort
We are coming thither: gracious England hath
Lent us good Siward and ten thousand men;
An older and a better soldier none
That Christendom gives out.

ROSS.
Would I could answer
This comfort with the like! But I have words
That would be howl'd out in the desert air,
Where hearing should not latch them.

MACDUFF.
What concern they?
The general cause? or is it a fee-grief
Due to some single breast?

ROSS.
No mind that's honest
But in it shares some woe; though the main part
Pertains to you alone.

MACDUFF.
If it be mine,
Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it.

ROSS.
Let not your ears despise my tongue for ever,
Which shall possess them with the heaviest sound
That ever yet they heard.

MACDUFF.
Humh! I guess at it.

ROSS.
Your castle is surpris'd; your wife and babes
Savagely slaughter'd: to relate the manner
Were, on the quarry of these murder'd deer,
To add the death of you.

MALCOLM.
Merciful heaven!--
What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows;
Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak
Whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break.

MACDUFF.
My children too?

ROSS.
Wife, children, servants, all
That could be found.

MACDUFF.
And I must be from thence!
My wife kill'd too?

ROSS.
I have said.

MALCOLM.
Be comforted:
Let's make us medicines of our great revenge,
To cure this deadly grief.

MACDUFF.
He has no children.--All my pretty ones?
Did you say all?--O hell-kite!--All?
What, all my pretty chickens and their dam
At one fell swoop?

MALCOLM.
Dispute it like a man.

MACDUFF.
I shall do so;
But I must also feel it as a man:
I cannot but remember such things were,
That were most precious to me.--Did heaven look on,
And would not take their part? Sinful Macduff,
They were all struck for thee! naught that I am,
Not for their own demerits, but for mine,
Fell slaughter on their souls: heaven rest them now!

MALCOLM.
Be this the whetstone of your sword. Let grief
Convert to anger; blunt not the heart, enrage it.

MACDUFF.
O, I could play the woman with mine eye,
And braggart with my tongue!--But, gentle heavens,
Cut short all intermission; front to front
Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself;
Within my sword's length set him; if he 'scape,
Heaven forgive him too!

MALCOLM.
This tune goes manly.
Come, go we to the king; our power is ready;
Our lack is nothing but our leave: Macbeth
Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above
Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer you may;
The night is long that never finds the day.

[Exeunt.]

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

completion: Macduff has found Malcolm in England and the two are conversing in front of the king's palace. The two lament the evils that Scotland has suffered under the "tyrant" Macbeth's reign. Macduff tries to convince Malcolm to overthrow Macbeth. Malcolm, however, is still wary of anyone from Scotland. Thus, he pretends to be inferior to Macbeth and refuses to take the throne. He falsely states that he is licentious, greedy and materialistic. Macduff consoles Malcolm and tells him that anyone would be better on the throne than Macbeth. Touched by his patriotism and true compassion, Malcolm realizes that Macduff is not a spy and apologizes for lying to him. He agrees to help Macduff and Siward fight Macbeth. After the two swear to help each other, Malcolm tells Macduff about the virtues of the English king. Supposedly, he is able to heal people suffering from scrofula by merely touching them. On a historical note, it is believed that Shakespeare's English king was based after King Edward. Edward was a saintly monarch who had the gift of healing his subjects from scrofula. Malcolm's praises of this king provides a direct contrast to the sinister Macbeth, who kills his subjects instead of healing them. Ross enters the scene at this time, bearing bad news from Scotland. He tells Macduff that his family has been murdered and that the Scottish people are praying for a deliverer. Enraged and wrought with grief, Macduff resolves to get his revenge by killing Macbeth. Ross, Macduff, Malcolm, Siward and ten thousand men immediately leave England to war with Macbeth


prompt:
Chapter: ACT V. SCENE I.

Dunsinane. A Room in the Castle.

[Enter a Doctor of Physic and a Waiting-Gentlewoman.]

DOCTOR.
I have two nights watched with you, but can perceive no
truth in your report. When was it she last walked?

GENTLEWOMAN.
Since his majesty went into the field, I have seen her
rise from her bed, throw her nightgown upon her, unlock her
closet, take forth paper, fold it, write upon it, read it,
afterwards seal it, and again return to bed; yet all this
while in a most fast sleep.

DOCTOR.
A great perturbation in nature,--to receive at once the
benefit of sleep, and do the effects of watching-- In this
slumbery agitation, besides her walking and other actual
performances, what, at any time, have you heard her say?

GENTLEWOMAN.
That, sir, which I will not report after her.

DOCTOR.
You may to me; and 'tis most meet you should.

GENTLEWOMAN.
Neither to you nor any one; having no witness to confirm my
speech. Lo you, here she comes!

[Enter Lady Macbeth, with a taper.]

This is her very guise; and, upon my life, fast asleep. Observe
her; stand close.

DOCTOR.
How came she by that light?

GENTLEWOMAN.
Why, it stood by her: she has light by her continually; 'tis her
command.

DOCTOR.
You see, her eyes are open.

GENTLEWOMAN.
Ay, but their sense is shut.

DOCTOR.
What is it she does now? Look how she rubs her hands.

GENTLEWOMAN.
It is an accustomed action with her, to seem thus washing her
hands: I have known her continue in this a quarter of an hour.

LADY MACBETH.
Yet here's a spot.

DOCTOR.
Hark, she speaks: I will set down what comes from her, to
satisfy my remembrance the more strongly.

LADY MACBETH.
Out, damned spot! out, I say!-- One; two; why, then 'tis
time to do't ;--Hell is murky!--Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier,
and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call
our power to account?--Yet who would have thought the old man to
have had so much blood in him?

DOCTOR.
Do you mark that?

LADY MACBETH.
The Thane of Fife had a wife; where is she now?--What,
will these hands ne'er be clean? No more o' that, my lord, no
more o' that: you mar all with this starting.

DOCTOR.
Go to, go to; you have known what you should not.

GENTLEWOMAN.
She has spoke what she should not, I am sure of that:
heaven knows what she has known.

LADY MACBETH.
Here's the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes
of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh, oh, oh!

DOCTOR.
What a sigh is there! The heart is sorely charged.

GENTLEWOMAN.
I would not have such a heart in my bosom for the
dignity of the whole body.

DOCTOR.
Well, well, well,--

GENTLEWOMAN.
Pray God it be, sir.

DOCTOR.
This disease is beyond my practice: yet I have known those
which have walked in their sleep who have died holily in
their beds.

LADY MACBETH.
Wash your hands, put on your nightgown; look not so
pale:--I tell you yet again, Banquo's buried; he cannot come
out on's grave.

DOCTOR.
Even so?

LADY MACBETH.
To bed, to bed; there's knocking at the gate: come, come, come,
come, give me your hand: what's done cannot be undone: to bed, to
bed, to bed.

[Exit.]

DOCTOR.
Will she go now to bed?

GENTLEWOMAN.
Directly.

DOCTOR.
Foul whisperings are abroad: unnatural deeds
Do breed unnatural troubles: infected minds
To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets.
More needs she the divine than the physician.--
God, God, forgive us all!--Look after her;
Remove from her the means of all annoyance,
And still keep eyes upon her:--so, good-night:
My mind she has mated, and amaz'd my sight:
I think, but dare not speak.

GENTLEWOMAN.
Good-night, good doctor.

[Exeunt.]

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

completion: At Macbeth's castle, a gentlewoman speaks to a doctor about Lady Macbeth's strange somnambulatory behavior. While the two are talking, they suddenly observe Lady Macbeth sleepwalking. She vigorously rubs her hands, as if trying to wash away a stain of some sort. Lady Macbeth sighs, weeps and mutters about the Thane of Fife and Banquo. The doctor and the gentlewoman are shocked-Lady Macbeth has inadvertently revealed the source of her distress. Again, lady Macbeth sleepwalks and has nightmares because Macbeth has "murdered sleep


prompt:
Chapter: SCENE II.

The Country near Dunsinane.

[Enter. with drum and colours, Menteith, Caithness, Angus,
Lennox, and Soldiers.]

MENTEITH.
The English power is near, led on by Malcolm,
His uncle Siward, and the good Macduff.
Revenges burn in them; for their dear causes
Would to the bleeding and the grim alarm
Excite the mortified man.

ANGUS.
Near Birnam wood
Shall we well meet them; that way are they coming.

CAITHNESS.
Who knows if Donalbain be with his brother?

LENNOX.
For certain, sir, he is not: I have a file
Of all the gentry: there is Siward's son
And many unrough youths, that even now
Protest their first of manhood.

MENTEITH.
What does the tyrant?

CAITHNESS.
Great Dunsinane he strongly fortifies:
Some say he's mad; others, that lesser hate him,
Do call it valiant fury: but, for certain,
He cannot buckle his distemper'd cause
Within the belt of rule.

ANGUS.
Now does he feel
His secret murders sticking on his hands;
Now minutely revolts upbraid his faith-breach;
Those he commands move only in command,
Nothing in love: now does he feel his title
Hang loose about him, like a giant's robe
Upon a dwarfish thief.

MENTEITH.
Who, then, shall blame
His pester'd senses to recoil and start,
When all that is within him does condemn
Itself for being there?

CAITHNESS.
Well, march we on,
To give obedience where 'tis truly ow'd:
Meet we the medicine of the sickly weal;
And with him pour we, in our country's purge,
Each drop of us.

LENNOX.
Or so much as it needs,
To dew the sovereign flower, and drown the weeds.
Make we our march towards Birnam.

[Exeunt, marching.]

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

completion: The noblemen Menteith, Caithness, Angus and Lennox rally the soldiers. Menteith reports that Malcolm, Siward, Macduff and the English army are nearby at Birnam Wood and will join them shortly. Caithness informs the group that Macbeth is busy fortifying his castle. The men march on to Birnam Wood


prompt:
Chapter: SCENE III.

Dunsinane. A Room in the Castle.

[Enter Macbeth, Doctor, and Attendants.]

MACBETH.
Bring me no more reports; let them fly all:
Till Birnam wood remove to Dunsinane
I cannot taint with fear. What's the boy Malcolm?
Was he not born of woman? The spirits that know
All mortal consequences have pronounc'd me thus,--
"Fear not, Macbeth; no man that's born of woman
Shall e'er have power upon thee."--Then fly, false thanes,
And mingle with the English epicures:
The mind I sway by, and the heart I bear,
Shall never sag with doubt nor shake with fear.

[Enter a Servant.]

The devil damn thee black, thou cream-fac'd loon!
Where gott'st thou that goose look?

SERVANT.
There is ten thousand--

MACBETH.
Geese, villain?

SERVANT.
Soldiers, sir.

MACBETH.
Go prick thy face and over-red thy fear,
Thou lily-liver'd boy. What soldiers, patch?
Death of thy soul! those linen cheeks of thine
Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, whey-face?

SERVANT.
The English force, so please you.

MACBETH.
Take thy face hence.

[Exit Servant.]

Seyton!--I am sick at heart,
When I behold--Seyton, I say!- This push
Will chair me ever or disseat me now.
I have liv'd long enough: my way of life
Is fall'n into the sear, the yellow leaf;
And that which should accompany old age,
As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends,
I must not look to have; but, in their stead,
Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath,
Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not.
Seyton!--

[Enter Seyton.]

SEYTON.
What's your gracious pleasure?

MACBETH.
What news more?

SEYTON.
All is confirm'd, my lord, which was reported.

MACBETH.
I'll fight till from my bones my flesh be hack'd.
Give me my armour.

SEYTON.
'Tis not needed yet.

MACBETH.
I'll put it on.
Send out more horses, skirr the country round;
Hang those that talk of fear.--Give me mine armour.--
How does your patient, doctor?

DOCTOR.
Not so sick, my lord,
As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies,
That keep her from her rest.

MACBETH.
Cure her of that:
Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas'd;
Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow;
Raze out the written troubles of the brain;
And with some sweet oblivious antidote
Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff
Which weighs upon the heart?

DOCTOR.
Therein the patient
Must minister to himself.

MACBETH.
Throw physic to the dogs,--I'll none of it.--
Come, put mine armour on; give me my staff:--
Seyton, send out.--Doctor, the Thanes fly from me.--
Come, sir, despatch.--If thou couldst, doctor, cast
The water of my land, find her disease,
And purge it to a sound and pristine health,
I would applaud thee to the very echo,
That should applaud again.--Pull't off, I say.--
What rhubarb, senna, or what purgative drug,
Would scour these English hence? Hear'st thou of them?

DOCTOR.
Ay, my good lord; your royal preparation
Makes us hear something.

MACBETH.
Bring it after me.--
I will not be afraid of death and bane,
Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane.

[Exeunt all except Doctor.]

DOCTOR.
Were I from Dunsinane away and clear,
Profit again should hardly draw me here.

[Exit.]

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

completion: In his castle, Macbeth is overconfident in his victory. He knows that he cannot be defeated until "Birnam Wood remove to Dunsinane" and a man "not of woman born" kills him. Thus, he does not fear the fast-approaching Malcolm and his men. A servant tells Macbeth that there are ten thousand English soldiers directly outside of the castle. Macbeth dismisses the servant's fear and rashly decides to ride outside and fight. The doctor enters and tells him that Lady Macbeth is very ill. He says that he is unable to treat her because her ailment is purely mental, not physical


prompt:
Chapter: SCENE IV.

Country nearDunsinane: a Wood in view.

[Enter, with drum and colours, Malcolm, old Siward and his Son,
Macduff, Menteith, Caithness, Angus, Lennox, Ross, and Soldiers,
marching.]

MALCOLM.
Cousins, I hope the days are near at hand
That chambers will be safe.

MENTEITH.
We doubt it nothing.

SIWARD.
What wood is this before us?

MENTEITH.
The wood of Birnam.

MALCOLM.
Let every soldier hew him down a bough,
And bear't before him; thereby shall we shadow
The numbers of our host, and make discovery
Err in report of us.

SOLDIERS.
It shall be done.

SIWARD.
We learn no other but the confident tyrant
Keeps still in Dunsinane, and will endure
Our setting down before't.

MALCOLM.
'Tis his main hope:
For where there is advantage to be given,
Both more and less have given him the revolt;
And none serve with him but constrained things,
Whose hearts are absent too.

MACDUFF.
Let our just censures
Attend the true event, and put we on
Industrious soldiership.

SIWARD.
The time approaches,
That will with due decision make us know
What we shall say we have, and what we owe.
Thoughts speculative their unsure hopes relate;
But certain issue strokes must arbitrate:
Towards which advance the war.

[Exeunt, marching.]

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

completion: Malcolm, Siward, Macduff and the English forces have met up with Menteith, Angus, Caithness and the Scottish soldiers. Malcolm orders each man to chop down a tree in Birnam Wood and carry it until they reach Macbeth's castle. He says that this will hide their true numbers until they are ready to attack. Thus, Birnam Wood is traveling towards Dunsinane-part of the witches' prophecy has come true and Macbeth is doomed. Siward reports to the group that Macbeth remains confident in his castle at Dunsinane. The now combined Scottish-English army continues to march towards Macbeth's domain


prompt:
Chapter: SCENE V.

Dunsinane. Within the castle.

[Enter with drum and colours, Macbeth, Seyton, and Soldiers.]

MACBETH.
Hang out our banners on the outward walls;
The cry is still, "They come:" our castle's strength
Will laugh a siege to scorn: here let them lie
Till famine and the ague eat them up:
Were they not forc'd with those that should be ours,
We might have met them dareful, beard to beard,
And beat them backward home.

[A cry of women within.]

What is that noise?

SEYTON.
It is the cry of women, my good lord.

[Exit.]

MACBETH.
I have almost forgot the taste of fears:
The time has been, my senses would have cool'd
To hear a night-shriek; and my fell of hair
Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir
As life were in't: I have supp'd full with horrors;
Direness, familiar to my slaught'rous thoughts,
Cannot once start me.

[Re-enter Seyton.]

Wherefore was that cry?

SEYTON.
The queen, my lord, is dead.

MACBETH.
She should have died hereafter;
There would have been a time for such a word.--
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

[Enter a Messenger.]

Thou com'st to use thy tongue; thy story quickly.

MESSENGER.
Gracious my lord,
I should report that which I say I saw,
But know not how to do it.

MACBETH.
Well, say, sir.

MESSENGER.
As I did stand my watch upon the hill,
I look'd toward Birnam, and anon, methought,
The wood began to move.

MACBETH.
Liar, and slave!

[Strikimg him.]

MESSENGER.
Let me endure your wrath, if't be not so.
Within this three mile may you see it coming;
I say, a moving grove.

MACBETH.
If thou speak'st false,
Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive,
Till famine cling thee: if thy speech be sooth,
I care not if thou dost for me as much.--
I pull in resolution; and begin
To doubt the equivocation of the fiend
That lies like truth. "Fear not, till Birnam wood
Do come to Dunsinane;" and now a wood
Comes toward Dunsinane.--Arm, arm, and out!--
If this which he avouches does appear,
There is nor flying hence nor tarrying here.
I 'gin to be a-weary of the sun,
And wish the estate o' the world were now undone.--
Ring the alarum bell!--Blow, wind! come, wrack!
At least we'll die with harness on our back.

[Exeunt.]

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

completion: Inside the castle, Macbeth prepares to do battle with Malcolm and Macduff. He learns that Lady Macbeth has committed suicide and hardly mourns her death. He is hardened by his newfound life as a criminal and is thus devoid of all proper emotion and compassion for his wife. A messenger interrupts Macbeth's reverie and tells him that he saw the trees of Birnam Wood moving towards the castle. In reality, this is Malcolm's army carrying the trees before itself. Not believing what the messenger says, Macbeth looks out the window to verify his statement. To his horror, the messenger is right. He resolves to fight Malcolm and Macduff anyway and die honorably


prompt:
Chapter: SCENE VI.

The same. A Plain before the Castle.

[Enter, with drum and colours, Malcolm, old Siward, Macduff, &c.,
and their Army, with boughs.]

MALCOLM.
Now near enough; your leafy screens throw down,
And show like those you are.--You, worthy uncle,
Shall with my cousin, your right-noble son,
Lead our first battle: worthy Macduff and we
Shall take upon's what else remains to do,
According to our order.

SIWARD.
Fare you well.--
Do we but find the tyrant's power to-night,
Let us be beaten, if we cannot fight.

MACDUFF.
Make all our trumpets speak; give them all breath,
Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death.

[Exeunt.]

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

completion: The rebel army has reached Macbeth's castle at Dunsinane. Malcolm orders Siward and his son to lead the men into the castle. Malcolm and Macduff will remain behind to finish off everyone else


prompt:
Chapter: SCENE VII.

The same. Another part of the Plain.

[Alarums. Enter Macbeth.]

MACBETH.
They have tied me to a stake; I cannot fly,
But, bear-like I must fight the course.--What's he
That was not born of woman? Such a one
Am I to fear, or none.

[Enter young Siward.]

YOUNG SIWARD.
What is thy name?

MACBETH.
Thou'lt be afraid to hear it.

YOUNG SIWARD.
No; though thou call'st thyself a hotter name
Than any is in hell.

MACBETH.
My name's Macbeth.

YOUNG SIWARD.
The devil himself could not pronounce a title
More hateful to mine ear.

MACBETH.
No, nor more fearful.

YOUNG SIWARD.
Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with my sword
I'll prove the lie thou speak'st.

[They fight, and young Seward is slain.]

MACBETH.
Thou wast born of woman.--
But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn,
Brandish'd by man that's of a woman born.

[Exit.]

[Alarums. Enter Macduff.]

MACDUFF.
That way the noise is.--Tyrant, show thy face!
If thou be'st slain and with no stroke of mine,
My wife and children's ghosts will haunt me still.
I cannot strike at wretched kerns, whose arms
Are hired to bear their staves; either thou, Macbeth,
Or else my sword, with an unbatter'd edge,
I sheathe again undeeded. There thou shouldst be;
By this great clatter, one of greatest note
Seems bruited. Let me find him, fortune!
And more I beg not.

[Exit. Alarums.]

[Enter Malcolm and old Siward.]

SIWARD.
This way, my lord;--the castle's gently render'd:
The tyrant's people on both sides do fight;
The noble thanes do bravely in the war;
The day almost itself professes yours,
And little is to do.

MALCOLM.
We have met with foes
That strike beside us.

SIWARD.
Enter, sir, the castle.

[Exeunt. Alarums.]

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

completion: Macbeth has been captured by the soldiers and tied to a stake. Siward's young son approaches Macbeth and tries to duel with him. Macbeth promptly kills him. Macduff then enters the castle, followed by Siward. Macduff wants to find and kill Macbeth so that his wife and children's ghosts will not haunt him. The two roam the hallways, looking for the escapee Macbeth


prompt:
Chapter: SCENE VIII.

The same. Another part of the field.

[Enter Macbeth.]

MACBETH.
Why should I play the Roman fool, and die
On mine own sword? whiles I see lives, the gashes
Do better upon them.

[Enter Macduff.]

MACDUFF.
Turn, hell-hound, turn!

MACBETH.
Of all men else I have avoided thee:
But get thee back; my soul is too much charg'd
With blood of thine already.

MACDUFF.
I have no words,--
My voice is in my sword: thou bloodier villain
Than terms can give thee out!

[They fight.]

MACBETH.
Thou losest labour:
As easy mayst thou the intrenchant air
With thy keen sword impress, as make me bleed:
Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests;
I bear a charmed life, which must not yield
To one of woman born.

MACDUFF.
Despair thy charm;
And let the angel whom thou still hast serv'd
Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb
Untimely ripp'd.

MACBETH.
Accursed be that tongue that tells me so,
For it hath cow'd my better part of man!
And be these juggling fiends no more believ'd,
That palter with us in a double sense;
That keep the word of promise to our ear,
And break it to our hope!--I'll not fight with thee.

MACDUFF.
Then yield thee, coward,
And live to be the show and gaze o' the time:
We'll have thee, as our rarer monsters are,
Painted upon a pole, and underwrit,
"Here may you see the tyrant."

MACBETH.
I will not yield,
To kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet,
And to be baited with the rabble's curse.
Though Birnam wood be come to Dunsinane,
And thou oppos'd, being of no woman born,
Yet I will try the last. Before my body
I throw my warlike shield: lay on, Macduff;
And damn'd be him that first cries, "Hold, enough!"

[Exeunt fighting.]

[Retreat. Flourish. Enter, with drum and colours, Malcolm, old
Siward, Ross, Lennox, Angus, Caithness, Menteith, and Soldiers.

MALCOLM.
I would the friends we miss were safe arriv'd.

SIWARD.
Some must go off; and yet, by these I see,
So great a day as this is cheaply bought.

MALCOLM.
Macduff is missing, and your noble son.

ROSS.
Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier's debt:
He only liv'd but till he was a man;
The which no sooner had his prowess confirm'd
In the unshrinking station where he fought,
But like a man he died.

SIWARD.
Then he is dead?

FLEANCE.
Ay, and brought off the field: your cause of sorrow
Must not be measur'd by his worth, for then
It hath no end.

SIWARD.
Had he his hurts before?

ROSS.
Ay, on the front.

SIWARD.
Why then, God's soldier be he!
Had I as many sons as I have hairs,
I would not wish them to a fairer death:
And, so his knell is knoll'd.

MALCOLM.
He's worth more sorrow,
And that I'll spend for him.

SIWARD.
He's worth no more:
They say he parted well, and paid his score:
And so, God be with him!--Here comes newer comfort.

[Re-enter Macduff, with Macbeth's head.]

MACDUFF.
Hail, king, for so thou art: behold, where stands
The usurper's cursed head: the time is free:
I see thee compass'd with thy kingdom's pearl
That speak my salutation in their minds;
Whose voices I desire aloud with mine,--
Hail, King of Scotland!

ALL.
Hail, King of Scotland!

[Flourish.]

MALCOLM.
We shall not spend a large expense of time
Before we reckon with your several loves,
And make us even with you. My thanes and kinsmen,
Henceforth be earls, the first that ever Scotland
In such an honour nam'd. What's more to do,
Which would be planted newly with the time,--
As calling home our exil'd friends abroad,
That fled the snares of watchful tyranny;
Producing forth the cruel ministers
Of this dead butcher, and his fiend-like queen,--
Who, as 'tis thought, by self and violent hands
Took off her life;--this, and what needful else
That calls upon us, by the grace of Grace,
We will perform in measure, time, and place:
So, thanks to all at once, and to each one,
Whom we invite to see us crown'd at Scone.

[Flourish. Exeunt.]

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

completion: Macduff finally meets up with Macbeth and the two duel. Macbeth tells Macduff that he does not fear anyone who was born of a woman. Macduff, however, tells Macbeth that he was "from his mother's womb untimely ripped. This means that Macduff was removed from his mother's womb via a cesarean section, and was not technically "born of a woman. Macduff kills Macbeth and returns to Malcolm with his head lanced onto a pole. Siward learns that his young son is dead. All of the men hail Malcolm as the rightful heir to the throne. Malcolm proclaims that he will reward all of his followers by making them earls. In addition, he orders that everyone who fled Scotland in fear of Macbeth return to enjoy better times under his reign. With a royal flourish, he also invites everyone to come to his coronation at Scone


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

Enter TROILUS armed, and PANDARUS

  TROILUS. Call here my varlet; I'll unarm again.
    Why should I war without the walls of Troy
    That find such cruel battle here within?
    Each Troyan that is master of his heart,
    Let him to field; Troilus, alas, hath none!
  PANDARUS. Will this gear ne'er be mended?
  TROILUS. The Greeks are strong, and skilful to their strength,
    Fierce to their skill, and to their fierceness valiant;
    But I am weaker than a woman's tear,
    Tamer than sleep, fonder than ignorance,
    Less valiant than the virgin in the night,
    And skilless as unpractis'd infancy.
  PANDARUS. Well, I have told you enough of this; for my part,
    I'll not meddle nor make no farther. He that will have a cake
    out of the wheat must needs tarry the grinding.
  TROILUS. Have I not tarried?
  PANDARUS. Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry the bolting.
  TROILUS. Have I not tarried?
  PANDARUS. Ay, the bolting; but you must tarry the leavening.
  TROILUS. Still have I tarried.
  PANDARUS. Ay, to the leavening; but here's yet in the word
    'hereafter' the kneading, the making of the cake, the heating
    of the oven, and the baking; nay, you must stay the cooling too,
    or you may chance to burn your lips.
  TROILUS. Patience herself, what goddess e'er she be,
    Doth lesser blench at suff'rance than I do.
    At Priam's royal table do I sit;
    And when fair Cressid comes into my thoughts-
    So, traitor, then she comes when she is thence.
  PANDARUS. Well, she look'd yesternight fairer than ever I saw her
    look, or any woman else.
  TROILUS. I was about to tell thee: when my heart,
    As wedged with a sigh, would rive in twain,
    Lest Hector or my father should perceive me,
    I have, as when the sun doth light a storm,
    Buried this sigh in wrinkle of a smile.
    But sorrow that is couch'd in seeming gladness
    Is like that mirth fate turns to sudden sadness.
  PANDARUS. An her hair were not somewhat darker than Helen's-well,
    go to- there were no more comparison between the women. But, for
    my part, she is my kinswoman; I would not, as they term it,
    praise her, but I would somebody had heard her talk yesterday, as
    I did. I  will not dispraise your sister Cassandra's wit; but-
  TROILUS. O Pandarus! I tell thee, Pandarus-
    When I do tell thee there my hopes lie drown'd,
    Reply not in how many fathoms deep
    They lie indrench'd. I tell thee I am mad
    In Cressid's love. Thou answer'st 'She is fair'-
    Pourest in the open ulcer of my heart-
    Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her voice,
    Handlest in thy discourse. O, that her hand,
    In whose comparison all whites are ink
    Writing their own reproach; to whose soft seizure
    The cygnet's down is harsh, and spirit of sense
    Hard as the palm of ploughman! This thou tell'st me,
    As true thou tell'st me, when I say I love her;
    But, saying thus, instead of oil and balm,
    Thou lay'st in every gash that love hath given me
    The knife that made it.
  PANDARUS. I speak no more than truth.
  TROILUS. Thou dost not speak so much.
  PANDARUS. Faith, I'll not meddle in it. Let her be as she is: if
    she be fair, 'tis the better for her; an she be not, she has the
    mends in her own hands.
  TROILUS. Good Pandarus! How now, Pandarus!
  PANDARUS. I have had my labour for my travail, ill thought on of
    her and ill thought on of you; gone between and between, but
    small thanks for my labour.
  TROILUS. What, art thou angry, Pandarus? What, with me?
  PANDARUS. Because she's kin to me, therefore she's not so fair as
    Helen. An she were not kin to me, she would be as fair a Friday
    as Helen is on Sunday. But what care I? I care not an she were a
    blackamoor; 'tis all one to me.
  TROILUS. Say I she is not fair?
  PANDARUS. I do not care whether you do or no. She's a fool to stay
    behind her father. Let her to the Greeks; and so I'll tell her
    the next time I see her. For my part, I'll meddle nor make no
    more i' th' matter.
  TROILUS. Pandarus!
  PANDARUS. Not I.
  TROILUS. Sweet Pandarus!
  PANDARUS. Pray you, speak no more to me: I will leave all
    as I found it, and there an end.
                                     Exit. Sound alarum
  TROILUS. Peace, you ungracious clamours! Peace, rude sounds!
    Fools on both sides! Helen must needs be fair,
    When with your blood you daily paint her thus.
    I cannot fight upon this argument;
    It is too starv'd a subject for my sword.
    But Pandarus-O gods, how do you plague me!
    I cannot come to Cressid but by Pandar;
    And he's as tetchy to be woo'd to woo
    As she is stubborn-chaste against all suit.
    Tell me, Apollo, for thy Daphne's love,
    What Cressid is, what Pandar, and what we?
    Her bed is India; there she lies, a pearl;
    Between our Ilium and where she resides
    Let it be call'd the wild and wand'ring flood;
    Ourself the merchant, and this sailing Pandar
    Our doubtful hope, our convoy, and our bark.

                Alarum. Enter AENEAS

  AENEAS. How now, Prince Troilus! Wherefore not afield?
  TROILUS. Because not there. This woman's answer sorts,
    For womanish it is to be from thence.
    What news, Aeneas, from the field to-day?
  AENEAS. That Paris is returned home, and hurt.
  TROILUS. By whom, Aeneas?
  AENEAS. Troilus, by Menelaus.
  TROILUS. Let Paris bleed: 'tis but a scar to scorn;
    Paris is gor'd with Menelaus' horn.
[Alarum]
  AENEAS. Hark what good sport is out of town to-day!
  TROILUS. Better at home, if 'would I might' were 'may.'
    But to the sport abroad. Are you bound thither?
  AENEAS. In all swift haste.
  TROILUS. Come, go we then together.
Exeunt

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

completion: Scene one opens with a conversation between Troilus and Pandarus. Troilus, a son of King Priam of Troy, is in love with Pandarus' niece, Cressida, and he has secured Pandarus as a matchmaker. Pandarus is a bawdy old flatterer, constantly making sexual puns; he agrees that Cressida is nearly as beautiful as Helen, though he adds that Cressida ought not to continue to stand behind her father, Calchas, who betrayed Troy by defecting to the Greeks. Troilus, meanwhile, is devastated by Pandarus' apparent lack of progress in convincing Cressida to love him in return. Pandarus responds to Troilus' criticism of his matchmaking by pretending to give it up altogether. Troilus gives the play's first soliloquy after Pandarus' exit, saying that both Pandarus and Cressida are difficult to interpret - Pandarus requires almost as much "wooing" as Cressida herself - and expressing his ardent wish to be with Cressida. Troilus' famous brother Aeneas interrupts his soliloquy and convinces him to shift his attention to the field of battle. They exit together, setting off to join the fray


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

Enter CRESSIDA and her man ALEXANDER

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

                          Enter PANDARUS

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

                       AENEAS passes

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

                       ANTENOR passes

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

                     HECTOR passes

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

                       PARIS passes

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

                      HELENUS passes

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

                    TROILUS passes

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

                 Common soldiers pass

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

                   Enter TROILUS' BOY

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

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

completion: Scene two begins with a conversation between Cressida and her servant Alexander about Ajax, a newly-arrived half-Greek and half-Trojan champion who is fighting on the Greek side. They jokingly suggest that Ajax is full of bluster and short on brains. Pandarus enters and deftly turns the subject to Troilus. Despite his declaration that he will no longer pursue Troilus' suit, Pandarus is still hard at work, comparing Troilus favorably to Troy's greatest champion, Hector. Cressida couldn't disagree more, saying that she finds Troilus totally unfit for comparison to Hector. The day in the battlefield has concluded, and Cressida and Pandarus watch as the Trojan champions parade back into the city. Pandarus provides a commentary on the warriors, praising Hector and Aeneas and assuring Cressida that Troilus will make a grand appearance. Cressida continues to tease her uncle by insulting Troilus. Upon his exit, however, Cressida reveals in a soliloquy that she desperately loves Troilus in return; she has kept this love to herself because she knows that as a woman she will be valued most while she is being wooed, and that her value will diminish significantly once she is "conquered. Meanwhile, on the other side of Troy's famous walls, the Greek camp is in crisis. The three main strategists of the Greek cause, Agamemnon, Nestor, and Ulysses, each give a speech addressing their difficulties. Agamemnon states that their lack of success is a plot of the gods to find constancy in men; Nestor concurs with Agamemnon. Ulysses' speech takes a different point of view; he states that the reason their effort has been unsuccessful is that there has been mutiny in the ranks. Achilles, the Greeks' greatest warrior, has been stubbornly refusing to partake in the war as a show of his power. Ulysses says that Achilles' temperamental defiance of his superiors has become endemic to the camp as a whole: because he has snubbed his commanders, rank has lost its import amongst the Greeks - a situation which must be remedied if the Greek cause is to prevail. Following Ulysses' speech, which both Agamemnon and Nestor applaud, Aeneas enters to issue a challenge from Hector. This challenge is obviously intended for Achilles alone, though it is ostensibly directed to the Greeks in general. Upon hearing this, Ulysses takes Nestor aside to suggest a solution to the Achilles problem. He says that the Greeks should choose a warrior to answer Hector's challenge with a lottery, but that they should rig the lottery so that Ajax is chosen. They would then have reason to praise the doltish Ajax as the greatest warrior in their camp - a situation that would irk the prideful Achilles so much that he would almost certainly return to battle to prove his superiority