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<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
LUCIO:
This may prove worse than hanging. [/INST]
DUKE VINCENTIO: </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
DUKE VINCENTIO: [/INST]
ANGELO:
O my dread lord,
I should be guiltier than my guiltiness,
To think I can be undiscernible,
When I perceive your grace, like power divine,
Hath look'd upon my passes. Then, good prince,
No longer session hold upon my shame,
But let my trial be mine own confession:
Immediate sentence then and sequent death
Is all the grace I beg. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
ANGELO:
O my dread lord,
I should be guiltier than my guiltiness,
To think I can be undiscernible,
When I perceive your grace, like power divine,
Hath look'd upon my passes. Then, good prince,
No longer session hold upon my shame,
But let my trial be mine own confession:
Immediate sentence then and sequent death
Is all the grace I beg. [/INST]
DUKE VINCENTIO:
Come hither, Mariana.
Say, wast thou e'er contracted to this woman? </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
DUKE VINCENTIO:
Come hither, Mariana.
Say, wast thou e'er contracted to this woman? [/INST]
ANGELO:
I was, my lord. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
ANGELO:
I was, my lord. [/INST]
DUKE VINCENTIO:
Go take her hence, and marry her instantly.
Do you the office, friar; which consummate,
Return him here again. Go with him, provost. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
DUKE VINCENTIO:
Go take her hence, and marry her instantly.
Do you the office, friar; which consummate,
Return him here again. Go with him, provost. [/INST]
ESCALUS:
My lord, I am more amazed at his dishonour
Than at the strangeness of it. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
ESCALUS:
My lord, I am more amazed at his dishonour
Than at the strangeness of it. [/INST]
DUKE VINCENTIO:
Come hither, Isabel.
Your friar is now your prince: as I was then
Advertising and holy to your business,
Not changing heart with habit, I am still
Attorney'd at your service. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
DUKE VINCENTIO:
Come hither, Isabel.
Your friar is now your prince: as I was then
Advertising and holy to your business,
Not changing heart with habit, I am still
Attorney'd at your service. [/INST]
ISABELLA:
O, give me pardon,
That I, your vassal, have employ'd and pain'd
Your unknown sovereignty! </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
ISABELLA:
O, give me pardon,
That I, your vassal, have employ'd and pain'd
Your unknown sovereignty! [/INST]
DUKE VINCENTIO:
You are pardon'd, Isabel:
And now, dear maid, be you as free to us.
Your brother's death, I know, sits at your heart;
And you may marvel why I obscured myself,
Labouring to save his life, and would not rather
Make rash remonstrance of my hidden power
Than let him so be lost. O most kind maid,
It was the swift celerity of his death,
Which I did think with slower foot came on,
That brain'd my purpose. But, peace be with him!
That life is better life, past fearing death,
Than that which lives to fear: make it your comfort,
So happy is your brother. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
DUKE VINCENTIO:
You are pardon'd, Isabel:
And now, dear maid, be you as free to us.
Your brother's death, I know, sits at your heart;
And you may marvel why I obscured myself,
Labouring to save his life, and would not rather
Make rash remonstrance of my hidden power
Than let him so be lost. O most kind maid,
It was the swift celerity of his death,
Which I did think with slower foot came on,
That brain'd my purpose. But, peace be with him!
That life is better life, past fearing death,
Than that which lives to fear: make it your comfort,
So happy is your brother. [/INST]
ISABELLA:
I do, my lord. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
ISABELLA:
I do, my lord. [/INST]
DUKE VINCENTIO:
For this new-married man approaching here,
Whose salt imagination yet hath wrong'd
Your well defended honour, you must pardon
For Mariana's sake: but as he adjudged your brother,--
Being criminal, in double violation
Of sacred chastity and of promise-breach
Thereon dependent, for your brother's life,--
The very mercy of the law cries out
Most audible, even from his proper tongue,
'An Angelo for Claudio, death for death!'
Haste still pays haste, and leisure answers leisure;
Like doth quit like, and MEASURE still FOR MEASURE.
Then, Angelo, thy fault's thus manifested;
Which, though thou wouldst deny, denies thee vantage.
We do condemn thee to the very block
Where Claudio stoop'd to death, and with like haste.
Away with him! </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
DUKE VINCENTIO:
For this new-married man approaching here,
Whose salt imagination yet hath wrong'd
Your well defended honour, you must pardon
For Mariana's sake: but as he adjudged your brother,--
Being criminal, in double violation
Of sacred chastity and of promise-breach
Thereon dependent, for your brother's life,--
The very mercy of the law cries out
Most audible, even from his proper tongue,
'An Angelo for Claudio, death for death!'
Haste still pays haste, and leisure answers leisure;
Like doth quit like, and MEASURE still FOR MEASURE.
Then, Angelo, thy fault's thus manifested;
Which, though thou wouldst deny, denies thee vantage.
We do condemn thee to the very block
Where Claudio stoop'd to death, and with like haste.
Away with him! [/INST]
MARIANA:
O my most gracious lord,
I hope you will not mock me with a husband. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MARIANA:
O my most gracious lord,
I hope you will not mock me with a husband. [/INST]
DUKE VINCENTIO:
It is your husband mock'd you with a husband.
Consenting to the safeguard of your honour,
I thought your marriage fit; else imputation,
For that he knew you, might reproach your life
And choke your good to come; for his possessions,
Although by confiscation they are ours,
We do instate and widow you withal,
To buy you a better husband. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
DUKE VINCENTIO:
It is your husband mock'd you with a husband.
Consenting to the safeguard of your honour,
I thought your marriage fit; else imputation,
For that he knew you, might reproach your life
And choke your good to come; for his possessions,
Although by confiscation they are ours,
We do instate and widow you withal,
To buy you a better husband. [/INST]
MARIANA:
O my dear lord,
I crave no other, nor no better man. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MARIANA:
O my dear lord,
I crave no other, nor no better man. [/INST]
DUKE VINCENTIO:
Never crave him; we are definitive. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
DUKE VINCENTIO:
Never crave him; we are definitive. [/INST]
MARIANA:
Gentle my liege,-- </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MARIANA:
Gentle my liege,-- [/INST]
DUKE VINCENTIO:
You do but lose your labour.
Away with him to death!
Now, sir, to you. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
DUKE VINCENTIO:
You do but lose your labour.
Away with him to death!
Now, sir, to you. [/INST]
MARIANA:
O my good lord! Sweet Isabel, take my part;
Lend me your knees, and all my life to come
I'll lend you all my life to do you service. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MARIANA:
O my good lord! Sweet Isabel, take my part;
Lend me your knees, and all my life to come
I'll lend you all my life to do you service. [/INST]
DUKE VINCENTIO:
Against all sense you do importune her:
Should she kneel down in mercy of this fact,
Her brother's ghost his paved bed would break,
And take her hence in horror. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
DUKE VINCENTIO:
Against all sense you do importune her:
Should she kneel down in mercy of this fact,
Her brother's ghost his paved bed would break,
And take her hence in horror. [/INST]
MARIANA:
Isabel,
Sweet Isabel, do yet but kneel by me;
Hold up your hands, say nothing; I'll speak all.
They say, best men are moulded out of faults;
And, for the most, become much more the better
For being a little bad: so may my husband.
O Isabel, will you not lend a knee? </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MARIANA:
Isabel,
Sweet Isabel, do yet but kneel by me;
Hold up your hands, say nothing; I'll speak all.
They say, best men are moulded out of faults;
And, for the most, become much more the better
For being a little bad: so may my husband.
O Isabel, will you not lend a knee? [/INST]
DUKE VINCENTIO:
He dies for Claudio's death. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
DUKE VINCENTIO:
He dies for Claudio's death. [/INST]
ISABELLA:
Most bounteous sir,
Look, if it please you, on this man condemn'd,
As if my brother lived: I partly think
A due sincerity govern'd his deeds,
Till he did look on me: since it is so,
Let him not die. My brother had but justice,
In that he did the thing for which he died:
For Angelo,
His act did not o'ertake his bad intent,
And must be buried but as an intent
That perish'd by the way: thoughts are no subjects;
Intents but merely thoughts. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
ISABELLA:
Most bounteous sir,
Look, if it please you, on this man condemn'd,
As if my brother lived: I partly think
A due sincerity govern'd his deeds,
Till he did look on me: since it is so,
Let him not die. My brother had but justice,
In that he did the thing for which he died:
For Angelo,
His act did not o'ertake his bad intent,
And must be buried but as an intent
That perish'd by the way: thoughts are no subjects;
Intents but merely thoughts. [/INST]
MARIANA:
Merely, my lord. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MARIANA:
Merely, my lord. [/INST]
DUKE VINCENTIO:
Your suit's unprofitable; stand up, I say.
I have bethought me of another fault.
Provost, how came it Claudio was beheaded
At an unusual hour? </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
DUKE VINCENTIO:
Your suit's unprofitable; stand up, I say.
I have bethought me of another fault.
Provost, how came it Claudio was beheaded
At an unusual hour? [/INST]
Provost:
It was commanded so. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Provost:
It was commanded so. [/INST]
DUKE VINCENTIO:
Had you a special warrant for the deed? </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
DUKE VINCENTIO:
Had you a special warrant for the deed? [/INST]
Provost:
No, my good lord; it was by private message. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Provost:
No, my good lord; it was by private message. [/INST]
DUKE VINCENTIO:
For which I do discharge you of your office:
Give up your keys. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
DUKE VINCENTIO:
For which I do discharge you of your office:
Give up your keys. [/INST]
Provost:
Pardon me, noble lord:
I thought it was a fault, but knew it not;
Yet did repent me, after more advice;
For testimony whereof, one in the prison,
That should by private order else have died,
I have reserved alive. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Provost:
Pardon me, noble lord:
I thought it was a fault, but knew it not;
Yet did repent me, after more advice;
For testimony whereof, one in the prison,
That should by private order else have died,
I have reserved alive. [/INST]
DUKE VINCENTIO:
What's he? </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
DUKE VINCENTIO:
What's he? [/INST]
Provost:
His name is Barnardine. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Provost:
His name is Barnardine. [/INST]
DUKE VINCENTIO:
I would thou hadst done so by Claudio.
Go fetch him hither; let me look upon him. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
DUKE VINCENTIO:
I would thou hadst done so by Claudio.
Go fetch him hither; let me look upon him. [/INST]
ESCALUS:
I am sorry, one so learned and so wise
As you, Lord Angelo, have still appear'd,
Should slip so grossly, both in the heat of blood.
And lack of temper'd judgment afterward. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
ESCALUS:
I am sorry, one so learned and so wise
As you, Lord Angelo, have still appear'd,
Should slip so grossly, both in the heat of blood.
And lack of temper'd judgment afterward. [/INST]
ANGELO:
I am sorry that such sorrow I procure:
And so deep sticks it in my penitent heart
That I crave death more willingly than mercy;
'Tis my deserving, and I do entreat it. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
ANGELO:
I am sorry that such sorrow I procure:
And so deep sticks it in my penitent heart
That I crave death more willingly than mercy;
'Tis my deserving, and I do entreat it. [/INST]
DUKE VINCENTIO:
Which is that Barnardine? </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
DUKE VINCENTIO:
Which is that Barnardine? [/INST]
Provost:
This, my lord. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Provost:
This, my lord. [/INST]
DUKE VINCENTIO:
There was a friar told me of this man.
Sirrah, thou art said to have a stubborn soul.
That apprehends no further than this world,
And squarest thy life according. Thou'rt condemn'd:
But, for those earthly faults, I quit them all;
And pray thee take this mercy to provide
For better times to come. Friar, advise him;
I leave him to your hand. What muffled fellow's that? </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
DUKE VINCENTIO:
There was a friar told me of this man.
Sirrah, thou art said to have a stubborn soul.
That apprehends no further than this world,
And squarest thy life according. Thou'rt condemn'd:
But, for those earthly faults, I quit them all;
And pray thee take this mercy to provide
For better times to come. Friar, advise him;
I leave him to your hand. What muffled fellow's that? [/INST]
Provost:
This is another prisoner that I saved.
Who should have died when Claudio lost his head;
As like almost to Claudio as himself. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Provost:
This is another prisoner that I saved.
Who should have died when Claudio lost his head;
As like almost to Claudio as himself. [/INST]
DUKE VINCENTIO: </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
DUKE VINCENTIO: [/INST]
LUCIO:
'Faith, my lord. I spoke it but according to the
trick. If you will hang me for it, you may; but I
had rather it would please you I might be whipt. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
LUCIO:
'Faith, my lord. I spoke it but according to the
trick. If you will hang me for it, you may; but I
had rather it would please you I might be whipt. [/INST]
DUKE VINCENTIO:
Whipt first, sir, and hanged after.
Proclaim it, provost, round about the city.
Is any woman wrong'd by this lewd fellow,
As I have heard him swear himself there's one
Whom he begot with child, let her appear,
And he shall marry her: the nuptial finish'd,
Let him be whipt and hang'd. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
DUKE VINCENTIO:
Whipt first, sir, and hanged after.
Proclaim it, provost, round about the city.
Is any woman wrong'd by this lewd fellow,
As I have heard him swear himself there's one
Whom he begot with child, let her appear,
And he shall marry her: the nuptial finish'd,
Let him be whipt and hang'd. [/INST]
LUCIO:
I beseech your highness, do not marry me to a whore.
Your highness said even now, I made you a duke:
good my lord, do not recompense me in making me a cuckold. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
LUCIO:
I beseech your highness, do not marry me to a whore.
Your highness said even now, I made you a duke:
good my lord, do not recompense me in making me a cuckold. [/INST]
DUKE VINCENTIO:
Upon mine honour, thou shalt marry her.
Thy slanders I forgive; and therewithal
Remit thy other forfeits. Take him to prison;
And see our pleasure herein executed. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
DUKE VINCENTIO:
Upon mine honour, thou shalt marry her.
Thy slanders I forgive; and therewithal
Remit thy other forfeits. Take him to prison;
And see our pleasure herein executed. [/INST]
LUCIO:
Marrying a punk, my lord, is pressing to death,
whipping, and hanging. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
LUCIO:
Marrying a punk, my lord, is pressing to death,
whipping, and hanging. [/INST]
DUKE VINCENTIO:
Slandering a prince deserves it.
She, Claudio, that you wrong'd, look you restore.
Joy to you, Mariana! Love her, Angelo:
I have confess'd her and I know her virtue.
Thanks, good friend Escalus, for thy much goodness:
There's more behind that is more gratulate.
Thanks, provost, for thy care and secrecy:
We shill employ thee in a worthier place.
Forgive him, Angelo, that brought you home
The head of Ragozine for Claudio's:
The offence pardons itself. Dear Isabel,
I have a motion much imports your good;
Whereto if you'll a willing ear incline,
What's mine is yours and what is yours is mine.
So, bring us to our palace; where we'll show
What's yet behind, that's meet you all should know. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
DUKE VINCENTIO:
Slandering a prince deserves it.
She, Claudio, that you wrong'd, look you restore.
Joy to you, Mariana! Love her, Angelo:
I have confess'd her and I know her virtue.
Thanks, good friend Escalus, for thy much goodness:
There's more behind that is more gratulate.
Thanks, provost, for thy care and secrecy:
We shill employ thee in a worthier place.
Forgive him, Angelo, that brought you home
The head of Ragozine for Claudio's:
The offence pardons itself. Dear Isabel,
I have a motion much imports your good;
Whereto if you'll a willing ear incline,
What's mine is yours and what is yours is mine.
So, bring us to our palace; where we'll show
What's yet behind, that's meet you all should know. [/INST]
SLY:
I'll pheeze you, in faith. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
SLY:
I'll pheeze you, in faith. [/INST]
Hostess:
A pair of stocks, you rogue! </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Hostess:
A pair of stocks, you rogue! [/INST]
SLY:
Ye are a baggage: the Slys are no rogues; look in
the chronicles; we came in with Richard Conqueror.
Therefore paucas pallabris; let the world slide: sessa! </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
SLY:
Ye are a baggage: the Slys are no rogues; look in
the chronicles; we came in with Richard Conqueror.
Therefore paucas pallabris; let the world slide: sessa! [/INST]
Hostess:
You will not pay for the glasses you have burst? </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Hostess:
You will not pay for the glasses you have burst? [/INST]
SLY:
No, not a denier. Go by, Jeronimy: go to thy cold
bed, and warm thee. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
SLY:
No, not a denier. Go by, Jeronimy: go to thy cold
bed, and warm thee. [/INST]
Hostess:
I know my remedy; I must go fetch the
third--borough. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Hostess:
I know my remedy; I must go fetch the
third--borough. [/INST]
SLY:
Third, or fourth, or fifth borough, I'll answer him
by law: I'll not budge an inch, boy: let him come,
and kindly. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
SLY:
Third, or fourth, or fifth borough, I'll answer him
by law: I'll not budge an inch, boy: let him come,
and kindly. [/INST]
Lord:
Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my hounds:
Brach Merriman, the poor cur is emboss'd;
And couple Clowder with the deep--mouth'd brach.
Saw'st thou not, boy, how Silver made it good
At the hedge-corner, in the coldest fault?
I would not lose the dog for twenty pound. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Lord:
Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my hounds:
Brach Merriman, the poor cur is emboss'd;
And couple Clowder with the deep--mouth'd brach.
Saw'st thou not, boy, how Silver made it good
At the hedge-corner, in the coldest fault?
I would not lose the dog for twenty pound. [/INST]
First Huntsman:
Why, Belman is as good as he, my lord;
He cried upon it at the merest loss
And twice to-day pick'd out the dullest scent:
Trust me, I take him for the better dog. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
First Huntsman:
Why, Belman is as good as he, my lord;
He cried upon it at the merest loss
And twice to-day pick'd out the dullest scent:
Trust me, I take him for the better dog. [/INST]
Lord:
Thou art a fool: if Echo were as fleet,
I would esteem him worth a dozen such.
But sup them well and look unto them all:
To-morrow I intend to hunt again. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Lord:
Thou art a fool: if Echo were as fleet,
I would esteem him worth a dozen such.
But sup them well and look unto them all:
To-morrow I intend to hunt again. [/INST]
First Huntsman:
I will, my lord. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
First Huntsman:
I will, my lord. [/INST]
Lord:
What's here? one dead, or drunk? See, doth he breathe? </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Lord:
What's here? one dead, or drunk? See, doth he breathe? [/INST]
Second Huntsman:
He breathes, my lord. Were he not warm'd with ale,
This were a bed but cold to sleep so soundly. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Second Huntsman:
He breathes, my lord. Were he not warm'd with ale,
This were a bed but cold to sleep so soundly. [/INST]
Lord:
O monstrous beast! how like a swine he lies!
Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine image!
Sirs, I will practise on this drunken man.
What think you, if he were convey'd to bed,
Wrapp'd in sweet clothes, rings put upon his fingers,
A most delicious banquet by his bed,
And brave attendants near him when he wakes,
Would not the beggar then forget himself? </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Lord:
O monstrous beast! how like a swine he lies!
Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine image!
Sirs, I will practise on this drunken man.
What think you, if he were convey'd to bed,
Wrapp'd in sweet clothes, rings put upon his fingers,
A most delicious banquet by his bed,
And brave attendants near him when he wakes,
Would not the beggar then forget himself? [/INST]
First Huntsman:
Believe me, lord, I think he cannot choose. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
First Huntsman:
Believe me, lord, I think he cannot choose. [/INST]
Second Huntsman:
It would seem strange unto him when he waked. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Second Huntsman:
It would seem strange unto him when he waked. [/INST]
Lord:
Even as a flattering dream or worthless fancy.
Then take him up and manage well the jest:
Carry him gently to my fairest chamber
And hang it round with all my wanton pictures:
Balm his foul head in warm distilled waters
And burn sweet wood to make the lodging sweet:
Procure me music ready when he wakes,
To make a dulcet and a heavenly sound;
And if he chance to speak, be ready straight
And with a low submissive reverence
Say 'What is it your honour will command?'
Let one attend him with a silver basin
Full of rose-water and bestrew'd with flowers,
Another bear the ewer, the third a diaper,
And say 'Will't please your lordship cool your hands?'
Some one be ready with a costly suit
And ask him what apparel he will wear;
Another tell him of his hounds and horse,
And that his lady mourns at his disease:
Persuade him that he hath been lunatic;
And when he says he is, say that he dreams,
For he is nothing but a mighty lord.
This do and do it kindly, gentle sirs:
It will be pastime passing excellent,
If it be husbanded with modesty. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Lord:
Even as a flattering dream or worthless fancy.
Then take him up and manage well the jest:
Carry him gently to my fairest chamber
And hang it round with all my wanton pictures:
Balm his foul head in warm distilled waters
And burn sweet wood to make the lodging sweet:
Procure me music ready when he wakes,
To make a dulcet and a heavenly sound;
And if he chance to speak, be ready straight
And with a low submissive reverence
Say 'What is it your honour will command?'
Let one attend him with a silver basin
Full of rose-water and bestrew'd with flowers,
Another bear the ewer, the third a diaper,
And say 'Will't please your lordship cool your hands?'
Some one be ready with a costly suit
And ask him what apparel he will wear;
Another tell him of his hounds and horse,
And that his lady mourns at his disease:
Persuade him that he hath been lunatic;
And when he says he is, say that he dreams,
For he is nothing but a mighty lord.
This do and do it kindly, gentle sirs:
It will be pastime passing excellent,
If it be husbanded with modesty. [/INST]
First Huntsman:
My lord, I warrant you we will play our part,
As he shall think by our true diligence
He is no less than what we say he is. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
First Huntsman:
My lord, I warrant you we will play our part,
As he shall think by our true diligence
He is no less than what we say he is. [/INST]
Lord:
Take him up gently and to bed with him;
And each one to his office when he wakes.
Sirrah, go see what trumpet 'tis that sounds:
Belike, some noble gentleman that means,
Travelling some journey, to repose him here.
How now! who is it? </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Lord:
Take him up gently and to bed with him;
And each one to his office when he wakes.
Sirrah, go see what trumpet 'tis that sounds:
Belike, some noble gentleman that means,
Travelling some journey, to repose him here.
How now! who is it? [/INST]
Servant:
An't please your honour, players
That offer service to your lordship. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Servant:
An't please your honour, players
That offer service to your lordship. [/INST]
Lord:
Bid them come near.
Now, fellows, you are welcome. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Lord:
Bid them come near.
Now, fellows, you are welcome. [/INST]
Players:
We thank your honour. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Players:
We thank your honour. [/INST]
Lord:
Do you intend to stay with me tonight? </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Lord:
Do you intend to stay with me tonight? [/INST]
A Player:
So please your lordship to accept our duty. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
A Player:
So please your lordship to accept our duty. [/INST]
Lord:
With all my heart. This fellow I remember,
Since once he play'd a farmer's eldest son:
'Twas where you woo'd the gentlewoman so well:
I have forgot your name; but, sure, that part
Was aptly fitted and naturally perform'd. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Lord:
With all my heart. This fellow I remember,
Since once he play'd a farmer's eldest son:
'Twas where you woo'd the gentlewoman so well:
I have forgot your name; but, sure, that part
Was aptly fitted and naturally perform'd. [/INST]
A Player:
I think 'twas Soto that your honour means. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
A Player:
I think 'twas Soto that your honour means. [/INST]
Lord:
'Tis very true: thou didst it excellent.
Well, you are come to me in a happy time;
The rather for I have some sport in hand
Wherein your cunning can assist me much.
There is a lord will hear you play to-night:
But I am doubtful of your modesties;
Lest over-eyeing of his odd behavior,--
For yet his honour never heard a play--
You break into some merry passion
And so offend him; for I tell you, sirs,
If you should smile he grows impatient. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Lord:
'Tis very true: thou didst it excellent.
Well, you are come to me in a happy time;
The rather for I have some sport in hand
Wherein your cunning can assist me much.
There is a lord will hear you play to-night:
But I am doubtful of your modesties;
Lest over-eyeing of his odd behavior,--
For yet his honour never heard a play--
You break into some merry passion
And so offend him; for I tell you, sirs,
If you should smile he grows impatient. [/INST]
A Player:
Fear not, my lord: we can contain ourselves,
Were he the veriest antic in the world. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
A Player:
Fear not, my lord: we can contain ourselves,
Were he the veriest antic in the world. [/INST]
Lord:
Go, sirrah, take them to the buttery,
And give them friendly welcome every one:
Let them want nothing that my house affords.
Sirrah, go you to Barthol'mew my page,
And see him dress'd in all suits like a lady:
That done, conduct him to the drunkard's chamber;
And call him 'madam,' do him obeisance.
Tell him from me, as he will win my love,
He bear himself with honourable action,
Such as he hath observed in noble ladies
Unto their lords, by them accomplished:
Such duty to the drunkard let him do
With soft low tongue and lowly courtesy,
And say 'What is't your honour will command,
Wherein your lady and your humble wife
May show her duty and make known her love?'
And then with kind embracements, tempting kisses,
And with declining head into his bosom,
Bid him shed tears, as being overjoy'd
To see her noble lord restored to health,
Who for this seven years hath esteem'd him
No better than a poor and loathsome beggar:
And if the boy have not a woman's gift
To rain a shower of commanded tears,
An onion will do well for such a shift,
Which in a napkin being close convey'd
Shall in despite enforce a watery eye.
See this dispatch'd with all the haste thou canst:
Anon I'll give thee more instructions.
I know the boy will well usurp the grace,
Voice, gait and action of a gentlewoman:
I long to hear him call the drunkard husband,
And how my men will stay themselves from laughter
When they do homage to this simple peasant.
I'll in to counsel them; haply my presence
May well abate the over-merry spleen
Which otherwise would grow into extremes. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Lord:
Go, sirrah, take them to the buttery,
And give them friendly welcome every one:
Let them want nothing that my house affords.
Sirrah, go you to Barthol'mew my page,
And see him dress'd in all suits like a lady:
That done, conduct him to the drunkard's chamber;
And call him 'madam,' do him obeisance.
Tell him from me, as he will win my love,
He bear himself with honourable action,
Such as he hath observed in noble ladies
Unto their lords, by them accomplished:
Such duty to the drunkard let him do
With soft low tongue and lowly courtesy,
And say 'What is't your honour will command,
Wherein your lady and your humble wife
May show her duty and make known her love?'
And then with kind embracements, tempting kisses,
And with declining head into his bosom,
Bid him shed tears, as being overjoy'd
To see her noble lord restored to health,
Who for this seven years hath esteem'd him
No better than a poor and loathsome beggar:
And if the boy have not a woman's gift
To rain a shower of commanded tears,
An onion will do well for such a shift,
Which in a napkin being close convey'd
Shall in despite enforce a watery eye.
See this dispatch'd with all the haste thou canst:
Anon I'll give thee more instructions.
I know the boy will well usurp the grace,
Voice, gait and action of a gentlewoman:
I long to hear him call the drunkard husband,
And how my men will stay themselves from laughter
When they do homage to this simple peasant.
I'll in to counsel them; haply my presence
May well abate the over-merry spleen
Which otherwise would grow into extremes. [/INST]
SLY:
For God's sake, a pot of small ale. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
SLY:
For God's sake, a pot of small ale. [/INST]
First Servant:
Will't please your lordship drink a cup of sack? </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
First Servant:
Will't please your lordship drink a cup of sack? [/INST]
Second Servant:
Will't please your honour taste of these conserves? </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Second Servant:
Will't please your honour taste of these conserves? [/INST]
Third Servant:
What raiment will your honour wear to-day? </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Third Servant:
What raiment will your honour wear to-day? [/INST]
SLY:
I am Christophero Sly; call not me 'honour' nor
'lordship:' I ne'er drank sack in my life; and if
you give me any conserves, give me conserves of
beef: ne'er ask me what raiment I'll wear; for I
have no more doublets than backs, no more stockings
than legs, nor no more shoes than feet; nay,
sometimes more feet than shoes, or such shoes as my
toes look through the over-leather. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
SLY:
I am Christophero Sly; call not me 'honour' nor
'lordship:' I ne'er drank sack in my life; and if
you give me any conserves, give me conserves of
beef: ne'er ask me what raiment I'll wear; for I
have no more doublets than backs, no more stockings
than legs, nor no more shoes than feet; nay,
sometimes more feet than shoes, or such shoes as my
toes look through the over-leather. [/INST]
Lord:
Heaven cease this idle humour in your honour!
O, that a mighty man of such descent,
Of such possessions and so high esteem,
Should be infused with so foul a spirit! </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Lord:
Heaven cease this idle humour in your honour!
O, that a mighty man of such descent,
Of such possessions and so high esteem,
Should be infused with so foul a spirit! [/INST]
SLY:
What, would you make me mad? Am not I Christopher
Sly, old Sly's son of Burtonheath, by birth a
pedlar, by education a cardmaker, by transmutation a
bear-herd, and now by present profession a tinker?
Ask Marian Hacket, the fat ale-wife of Wincot, if
she know me not: if she say I am not fourteen pence
on the score for sheer ale, score me up for the
lyingest knave in Christendom. What! I am not
bestraught: here's-- </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
SLY:
What, would you make me mad? Am not I Christopher
Sly, old Sly's son of Burtonheath, by birth a
pedlar, by education a cardmaker, by transmutation a
bear-herd, and now by present profession a tinker?
Ask Marian Hacket, the fat ale-wife of Wincot, if
she know me not: if she say I am not fourteen pence
on the score for sheer ale, score me up for the
lyingest knave in Christendom. What! I am not
bestraught: here's-- [/INST]
Third Servant:
O, this it is that makes your lady mourn! </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Third Servant:
O, this it is that makes your lady mourn! [/INST]
Second Servant:
O, this is it that makes your servants droop! </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Second Servant:
O, this is it that makes your servants droop! [/INST]
Lord:
Hence comes it that your kindred shuns your house,
As beaten hence by your strange lunacy.
O noble lord, bethink thee of thy birth,
Call home thy ancient thoughts from banishment
And banish hence these abject lowly dreams.
Look how thy servants do attend on thee,
Each in his office ready at thy beck.
Wilt thou have music? hark! Apollo plays,
And twenty caged nightingales do sing:
Or wilt thou sleep? we'll have thee to a couch
Softer and sweeter than the lustful bed
On purpose trimm'd up for Semiramis.
Say thou wilt walk; we will bestrew the ground:
Or wilt thou ride? thy horses shall be trapp'd,
Their harness studded all with gold and pearl.
Dost thou love hawking? thou hast hawks will soar
Above the morning lark or wilt thou hunt?
Thy hounds shall make the welkin answer them
And fetch shrill echoes from the hollow earth. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Lord:
Hence comes it that your kindred shuns your house,
As beaten hence by your strange lunacy.
O noble lord, bethink thee of thy birth,
Call home thy ancient thoughts from banishment
And banish hence these abject lowly dreams.
Look how thy servants do attend on thee,
Each in his office ready at thy beck.
Wilt thou have music? hark! Apollo plays,
And twenty caged nightingales do sing:
Or wilt thou sleep? we'll have thee to a couch
Softer and sweeter than the lustful bed
On purpose trimm'd up for Semiramis.
Say thou wilt walk; we will bestrew the ground:
Or wilt thou ride? thy horses shall be trapp'd,
Their harness studded all with gold and pearl.
Dost thou love hawking? thou hast hawks will soar
Above the morning lark or wilt thou hunt?
Thy hounds shall make the welkin answer them
And fetch shrill echoes from the hollow earth. [/INST]
First Servant:
Say thou wilt course; thy greyhounds are as swift
As breathed stags, ay, fleeter than the roe. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
First Servant:
Say thou wilt course; thy greyhounds are as swift
As breathed stags, ay, fleeter than the roe. [/INST]
Second Servant:
Dost thou love pictures? we will fetch thee straight
Adonis painted by a running brook,
And Cytherea all in sedges hid,
Which seem to move and wanton with her breath,
Even as the waving sedges play with wind. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Second Servant:
Dost thou love pictures? we will fetch thee straight
Adonis painted by a running brook,
And Cytherea all in sedges hid,
Which seem to move and wanton with her breath,
Even as the waving sedges play with wind. [/INST]
Lord:
We'll show thee Io as she was a maid,
And how she was beguiled and surprised,
As lively painted as the deed was done. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Lord:
We'll show thee Io as she was a maid,
And how she was beguiled and surprised,
As lively painted as the deed was done. [/INST]
Third Servant:
Or Daphne roaming through a thorny wood,
Scratching her legs that one shall swear she bleeds,
And at that sight shall sad Apollo weep,
So workmanly the blood and tears are drawn. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Third Servant:
Or Daphne roaming through a thorny wood,
Scratching her legs that one shall swear she bleeds,
And at that sight shall sad Apollo weep,
So workmanly the blood and tears are drawn. [/INST]
Lord:
Thou art a lord, and nothing but a lord:
Thou hast a lady far more beautiful
Than any woman in this waning age. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Lord:
Thou art a lord, and nothing but a lord:
Thou hast a lady far more beautiful
Than any woman in this waning age. [/INST]
First Servant:
And till the tears that she hath shed for thee
Like envious floods o'er-run her lovely face,
She was the fairest creature in the world;
And yet she is inferior to none. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
First Servant:
And till the tears that she hath shed for thee
Like envious floods o'er-run her lovely face,
She was the fairest creature in the world;
And yet she is inferior to none. [/INST]
SLY:
Am I a lord? and have I such a lady?
Or do I dream? or have I dream'd till now?
I do not sleep: I see, I hear, I speak;
I smell sweet savours and I feel soft things:
Upon my life, I am a lord indeed
And not a tinker nor Christophero Sly.
Well, bring our lady hither to our sight;
And once again, a pot o' the smallest ale. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
SLY:
Am I a lord? and have I such a lady?
Or do I dream? or have I dream'd till now?
I do not sleep: I see, I hear, I speak;
I smell sweet savours and I feel soft things:
Upon my life, I am a lord indeed
And not a tinker nor Christophero Sly.
Well, bring our lady hither to our sight;
And once again, a pot o' the smallest ale. [/INST]
Second Servant:
Will't please your mightiness to wash your hands?
O, how we joy to see your wit restored!
O, that once more you knew but what you are!
These fifteen years you have been in a dream;
Or when you waked, so waked as if you slept. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Second Servant:
Will't please your mightiness to wash your hands?
O, how we joy to see your wit restored!
O, that once more you knew but what you are!
These fifteen years you have been in a dream;
Or when you waked, so waked as if you slept. [/INST]
SLY:
These fifteen years! by my fay, a goodly nap.
But did I never speak of all that time? </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
SLY:
These fifteen years! by my fay, a goodly nap.
But did I never speak of all that time? [/INST]
First Servant:
O, yes, my lord, but very idle words:
For though you lay here in this goodly chamber,
Yet would you say ye were beaten out of door;
And rail upon the hostess of the house;
And say you would present her at the leet,
Because she brought stone jugs and no seal'd quarts:
Sometimes you would call out for Cicely Hacket. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
First Servant:
O, yes, my lord, but very idle words:
For though you lay here in this goodly chamber,
Yet would you say ye were beaten out of door;
And rail upon the hostess of the house;
And say you would present her at the leet,
Because she brought stone jugs and no seal'd quarts:
Sometimes you would call out for Cicely Hacket. [/INST]
SLY:
Ay, the woman's maid of the house. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
SLY:
Ay, the woman's maid of the house. [/INST]
Third Servant:
Why, sir, you know no house nor no such maid,
Nor no such men as you have reckon'd up,
As Stephen Sly and did John Naps of Greece
And Peter Turph and Henry Pimpernell
And twenty more such names and men as these
Which never were nor no man ever saw. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Third Servant:
Why, sir, you know no house nor no such maid,
Nor no such men as you have reckon'd up,
As Stephen Sly and did John Naps of Greece
And Peter Turph and Henry Pimpernell
And twenty more such names and men as these
Which never were nor no man ever saw. [/INST]
SLY:
Now Lord be thanked for my good amends! </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
SLY:
Now Lord be thanked for my good amends! [/INST]
ALL:
Amen. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
ALL:
Amen. [/INST]
SLY:
I thank thee: thou shalt not lose by it. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
SLY:
I thank thee: thou shalt not lose by it. [/INST]
Page:
How fares my noble lord? </s> |