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<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
COMINIUS:
Though I could wish
You were conducted to a gentle bath
And balms applied to, you, yet dare I never
Deny your asking: take your choice of those
That best can aid your action. [/INST]
MARCIUS:
Those are they
That most are willing. If any such be here--
As it were sin to doubt--that love this painting
Wherein you see me smear'd; if any fear
Lesser his person than an ill report;
If any think brave death outweighs bad life
And that his country's dearer than himself;
Let him alone, or so many so minded,
Wave thus, to express his disposition,
And follow Marcius.
O, me alone! make you a sword of me?
If these shows be not outward, which of you
But is four Volsces? none of you but is
Able to bear against the great Aufidius
A shield as hard as his. A certain number,
Though thanks to all, must I select
from all: the rest
Shall bear the business in some other fight,
As cause will be obey'd. Please you to march;
And four shall quickly draw out my command,
Which men are best inclined. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MARCIUS:
Those are they
That most are willing. If any such be here--
As it were sin to doubt--that love this painting
Wherein you see me smear'd; if any fear
Lesser his person than an ill report;
If any think brave death outweighs bad life
And that his country's dearer than himself;
Let him alone, or so many so minded,
Wave thus, to express his disposition,
And follow Marcius.
O, me alone! make you a sword of me?
If these shows be not outward, which of you
But is four Volsces? none of you but is
Able to bear against the great Aufidius
A shield as hard as his. A certain number,
Though thanks to all, must I select
from all: the rest
Shall bear the business in some other fight,
As cause will be obey'd. Please you to march;
And four shall quickly draw out my command,
Which men are best inclined. [/INST]
COMINIUS:
March on, my fellows:
Make good this ostentation, and you shall
Divide in all with us. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
COMINIUS:
March on, my fellows:
Make good this ostentation, and you shall
Divide in all with us. [/INST]
LARTIUS:
So, let the ports be guarded: keep your duties,
As I have set them down. If I do send, dispatch
Those centuries to our aid: the rest will serve
For a short holding: if we lose the field,
We cannot keep the town. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
LARTIUS:
So, let the ports be guarded: keep your duties,
As I have set them down. If I do send, dispatch
Those centuries to our aid: the rest will serve
For a short holding: if we lose the field,
We cannot keep the town. [/INST]
Lieutenant:
Fear not our care, sir. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Lieutenant:
Fear not our care, sir. [/INST]
LARTIUS:
Hence, and shut your gates upon's.
Our guider, come; to the Roman camp conduct us. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
LARTIUS:
Hence, and shut your gates upon's.
Our guider, come; to the Roman camp conduct us. [/INST]
MARCIUS:
I'll fight with none but thee; for I do hate thee
Worse than a promise-breaker. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MARCIUS:
I'll fight with none but thee; for I do hate thee
Worse than a promise-breaker. [/INST]
AUFIDIUS:
We hate alike:
Not Afric owns a serpent I abhor
More than thy fame and envy. Fix thy foot. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
AUFIDIUS:
We hate alike:
Not Afric owns a serpent I abhor
More than thy fame and envy. Fix thy foot. [/INST]
MARCIUS:
Let the first budger die the other's slave,
And the gods doom him after! </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MARCIUS:
Let the first budger die the other's slave,
And the gods doom him after! [/INST]
AUFIDIUS:
If I fly, Marcius,
Holloa me like a hare. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
AUFIDIUS:
If I fly, Marcius,
Holloa me like a hare. [/INST]
MARCIUS:
Within these three hours, Tullus,
Alone I fought in your Corioli walls,
And made what work I pleased: 'tis not my blood
Wherein thou seest me mask'd; for thy revenge
Wrench up thy power to the highest. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MARCIUS:
Within these three hours, Tullus,
Alone I fought in your Corioli walls,
And made what work I pleased: 'tis not my blood
Wherein thou seest me mask'd; for thy revenge
Wrench up thy power to the highest. [/INST]
AUFIDIUS:
Wert thou the Hector
That was the whip of your bragg'd progeny,
Thou shouldst not scape me here.
Officious, and not valiant, you have shamed me
In your condemned seconds. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
AUFIDIUS:
Wert thou the Hector
That was the whip of your bragg'd progeny,
Thou shouldst not scape me here.
Officious, and not valiant, you have shamed me
In your condemned seconds. [/INST]
COMINIUS:
If I should tell thee o'er this thy day's work,
Thou'ldst not believe thy deeds: but I'll report it
Where senators shall mingle tears with smiles,
Where great patricians shall attend and shrug,
I' the end admire, where ladies shall be frighted,
And, gladly quaked, hear more; where the
dull tribunes,
That, with the fusty plebeians, hate thine honours,
Shall say against their hearts 'We thank the gods
Our Rome hath such a soldier.'
Yet camest thou to a morsel of this feast,
Having fully dined before. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
COMINIUS:
If I should tell thee o'er this thy day's work,
Thou'ldst not believe thy deeds: but I'll report it
Where senators shall mingle tears with smiles,
Where great patricians shall attend and shrug,
I' the end admire, where ladies shall be frighted,
And, gladly quaked, hear more; where the
dull tribunes,
That, with the fusty plebeians, hate thine honours,
Shall say against their hearts 'We thank the gods
Our Rome hath such a soldier.'
Yet camest thou to a morsel of this feast,
Having fully dined before. [/INST]
LARTIUS:
O general,
Here is the steed, we the caparison:
Hadst thou beheld-- </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
LARTIUS:
O general,
Here is the steed, we the caparison:
Hadst thou beheld-- [/INST]
MARCIUS:
Pray now, no more: my mother,
Who has a charter to extol her blood,
When she does praise me grieves me. I have done
As you have done; that's what I can; induced
As you have been; that's for my country:
He that has but effected his good will
Hath overta'en mine act. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MARCIUS:
Pray now, no more: my mother,
Who has a charter to extol her blood,
When she does praise me grieves me. I have done
As you have done; that's what I can; induced
As you have been; that's for my country:
He that has but effected his good will
Hath overta'en mine act. [/INST]
COMINIUS:
You shall not be
The grave of your deserving; Rome must know
The value of her own: 'twere a concealment
Worse than a theft, no less than a traducement,
To hide your doings; and to silence that,
Which, to the spire and top of praises vouch'd,
Would seem but modest: therefore, I beseech you
In sign of what you are, not to reward
What you have done--before our army hear me. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
COMINIUS:
You shall not be
The grave of your deserving; Rome must know
The value of her own: 'twere a concealment
Worse than a theft, no less than a traducement,
To hide your doings; and to silence that,
Which, to the spire and top of praises vouch'd,
Would seem but modest: therefore, I beseech you
In sign of what you are, not to reward
What you have done--before our army hear me. [/INST]
MARCIUS:
I have some wounds upon me, and they smart
To hear themselves remember'd. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MARCIUS:
I have some wounds upon me, and they smart
To hear themselves remember'd. [/INST]
COMINIUS:
Should they not,
Well might they fester 'gainst ingratitude,
And tent themselves with death. Of all the horses,
Whereof we have ta'en good and good store, of all
The treasure in this field achieved and city,
We render you the tenth, to be ta'en forth,
Before the common distribution, at
Your only choice. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
COMINIUS:
Should they not,
Well might they fester 'gainst ingratitude,
And tent themselves with death. Of all the horses,
Whereof we have ta'en good and good store, of all
The treasure in this field achieved and city,
We render you the tenth, to be ta'en forth,
Before the common distribution, at
Your only choice. [/INST]
MARCIUS:
I thank you, general;
But cannot make my heart consent to take
A bribe to pay my sword: I do refuse it;
And stand upon my common part with those
That have beheld the doing. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MARCIUS:
I thank you, general;
But cannot make my heart consent to take
A bribe to pay my sword: I do refuse it;
And stand upon my common part with those
That have beheld the doing. [/INST]
MARCIUS:
May these same instruments, which you profane,
Never sound more! when drums and trumpets shall
I' the field prove flatterers, let courts and cities be
Made all of false-faced soothing!
When steel grows soft as the parasite's silk,
Let him be made a coverture for the wars!
No more, I say! For that I have not wash'd
My nose that bled, or foil'd some debile wretch.--
Which, without note, here's many else have done,--
You shout me forth
In acclamations hyperbolical;
As if I loved my little should be dieted
In praises sauced with lies. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MARCIUS:
May these same instruments, which you profane,
Never sound more! when drums and trumpets shall
I' the field prove flatterers, let courts and cities be
Made all of false-faced soothing!
When steel grows soft as the parasite's silk,
Let him be made a coverture for the wars!
No more, I say! For that I have not wash'd
My nose that bled, or foil'd some debile wretch.--
Which, without note, here's many else have done,--
You shout me forth
In acclamations hyperbolical;
As if I loved my little should be dieted
In praises sauced with lies. [/INST]
COMINIUS:
Too modest are you;
More cruel to your good report than grateful
To us that give you truly: by your patience,
If 'gainst yourself you be incensed, we'll put you,
Like one that means his proper harm, in manacles,
Then reason safely with you. Therefore, be it known,
As to us, to all the world, that Caius Marcius
Wears this war's garland: in token of the which,
My noble steed, known to the camp, I give him,
With all his trim belonging; and from this time,
For what he did before Corioli, call him,
With all the applause and clamour of the host,
CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS! Bear
The addition nobly ever! </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
COMINIUS:
Too modest are you;
More cruel to your good report than grateful
To us that give you truly: by your patience,
If 'gainst yourself you be incensed, we'll put you,
Like one that means his proper harm, in manacles,
Then reason safely with you. Therefore, be it known,
As to us, to all the world, that Caius Marcius
Wears this war's garland: in token of the which,
My noble steed, known to the camp, I give him,
With all his trim belonging; and from this time,
For what he did before Corioli, call him,
With all the applause and clamour of the host,
CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS! Bear
The addition nobly ever! [/INST]
All:
Caius Marcius Coriolanus! </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
All:
Caius Marcius Coriolanus! [/INST]
CORIOLANUS:
I will go wash;
And when my face is fair, you shall perceive
Whether I blush or no: howbeit, I thank you.
I mean to stride your steed, and at all times
To undercrest your good addition
To the fairness of my power. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
CORIOLANUS:
I will go wash;
And when my face is fair, you shall perceive
Whether I blush or no: howbeit, I thank you.
I mean to stride your steed, and at all times
To undercrest your good addition
To the fairness of my power. [/INST]
COMINIUS:
So, to our tent;
Where, ere we do repose us, we will write
To Rome of our success. You, Titus Lartius,
Must to Corioli back: send us to Rome
The best, with whom we may articulate,
For their own good and ours. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
COMINIUS:
So, to our tent;
Where, ere we do repose us, we will write
To Rome of our success. You, Titus Lartius,
Must to Corioli back: send us to Rome
The best, with whom we may articulate,
For their own good and ours. [/INST]
LARTIUS:
I shall, my lord. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
LARTIUS:
I shall, my lord. [/INST]
CORIOLANUS:
The gods begin to mock me. I, that now
Refused most princely gifts, am bound to beg
Of my lord general. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
CORIOLANUS:
The gods begin to mock me. I, that now
Refused most princely gifts, am bound to beg
Of my lord general. [/INST]
COMINIUS:
Take't; 'tis yours. What is't? </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
COMINIUS:
Take't; 'tis yours. What is't? [/INST]
CORIOLANUS:
I sometime lay here in Corioli
At a poor man's house; he used me kindly:
He cried to me; I saw him prisoner;
But then Aufidius was within my view,
And wrath o'erwhelm'd my pity: I request you
To give my poor host freedom. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
CORIOLANUS:
I sometime lay here in Corioli
At a poor man's house; he used me kindly:
He cried to me; I saw him prisoner;
But then Aufidius was within my view,
And wrath o'erwhelm'd my pity: I request you
To give my poor host freedom. [/INST]
COMINIUS:
O, well begg'd!
Were he the butcher of my son, he should
Be free as is the wind. Deliver him, Titus. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
COMINIUS:
O, well begg'd!
Were he the butcher of my son, he should
Be free as is the wind. Deliver him, Titus. [/INST]
LARTIUS:
Marcius, his name? </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
LARTIUS:
Marcius, his name? [/INST]
CORIOLANUS:
By Jupiter! forgot.
I am weary; yea, my memory is tired.
Have we no wine here? </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
CORIOLANUS:
By Jupiter! forgot.
I am weary; yea, my memory is tired.
Have we no wine here? [/INST]
COMINIUS:
Go we to our tent:
The blood upon your visage dries; 'tis time
It should be look'd to: come. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
COMINIUS:
Go we to our tent:
The blood upon your visage dries; 'tis time
It should be look'd to: come. [/INST]
AUFIDIUS:
The town is ta'en! </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
AUFIDIUS:
The town is ta'en! [/INST]
First Soldier:
'Twill be deliver'd back on good condition. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
First Soldier:
'Twill be deliver'd back on good condition. [/INST]
AUFIDIUS:
Condition!
I would I were a Roman; for I cannot,
Being a Volsce, be that I am. Condition!
What good condition can a treaty find
I' the part that is at mercy? Five times, Marcius,
I have fought with thee: so often hast thou beat me,
And wouldst do so, I think, should we encounter
As often as we eat. By the elements,
If e'er again I meet him beard to beard,
He's mine, or I am his: mine emulation
Hath not that honour in't it had; for where
I thought to crush him in an equal force,
True sword to sword, I'll potch at him some way
Or wrath or craft may get him. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
AUFIDIUS:
Condition!
I would I were a Roman; for I cannot,
Being a Volsce, be that I am. Condition!
What good condition can a treaty find
I' the part that is at mercy? Five times, Marcius,
I have fought with thee: so often hast thou beat me,
And wouldst do so, I think, should we encounter
As often as we eat. By the elements,
If e'er again I meet him beard to beard,
He's mine, or I am his: mine emulation
Hath not that honour in't it had; for where
I thought to crush him in an equal force,
True sword to sword, I'll potch at him some way
Or wrath or craft may get him. [/INST]
First Soldier:
He's the devil. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
First Soldier:
He's the devil. [/INST]
AUFIDIUS:
Bolder, though not so subtle. My valour's poison'd
With only suffering stain by him; for him
Shall fly out of itself: nor sleep nor sanctuary,
Being naked, sick, nor fane nor Capitol,
The prayers of priests nor times of sacrifice,
Embarquements all of fury, shall lift up
Their rotten privilege and custom 'gainst
My hate to Marcius: where I find him, were it
At home, upon my brother's guard, even there,
Against the hospitable canon, would I
Wash my fierce hand in's heart. Go you to the city;
Learn how 'tis held; and what they are that must
Be hostages for Rome. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
AUFIDIUS:
Bolder, though not so subtle. My valour's poison'd
With only suffering stain by him; for him
Shall fly out of itself: nor sleep nor sanctuary,
Being naked, sick, nor fane nor Capitol,
The prayers of priests nor times of sacrifice,
Embarquements all of fury, shall lift up
Their rotten privilege and custom 'gainst
My hate to Marcius: where I find him, were it
At home, upon my brother's guard, even there,
Against the hospitable canon, would I
Wash my fierce hand in's heart. Go you to the city;
Learn how 'tis held; and what they are that must
Be hostages for Rome. [/INST]
First Soldier:
Will not you go? </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
First Soldier:
Will not you go? [/INST]
AUFIDIUS:
I am attended at the cypress grove: I pray you--
'Tis south the city mills--bring me word thither
How the world goes, that to the pace of it
I may spur on my journey. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
AUFIDIUS:
I am attended at the cypress grove: I pray you--
'Tis south the city mills--bring me word thither
How the world goes, that to the pace of it
I may spur on my journey. [/INST]
First Soldier:
I shall, sir. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
First Soldier:
I shall, sir. [/INST]
MENENIUS:
The augurer tells me we shall have news to-night. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MENENIUS:
The augurer tells me we shall have news to-night. [/INST]
BRUTUS:
Good or bad? </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
BRUTUS:
Good or bad? [/INST]
MENENIUS:
Not according to the prayer of the people, for they
love not Marcius. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MENENIUS:
Not according to the prayer of the people, for they
love not Marcius. [/INST]
SICINIUS:
Nature teaches beasts to know their friends. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
SICINIUS:
Nature teaches beasts to know their friends. [/INST]
MENENIUS:
Pray you, who does the wolf love? </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MENENIUS:
Pray you, who does the wolf love? [/INST]
SICINIUS:
The lamb. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
SICINIUS:
The lamb. [/INST]
MENENIUS:
Ay, to devour him; as the hungry plebeians would the
noble Marcius. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MENENIUS:
Ay, to devour him; as the hungry plebeians would the
noble Marcius. [/INST]
BRUTUS:
He's a lamb indeed, that baes like a bear. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
BRUTUS:
He's a lamb indeed, that baes like a bear. [/INST]
MENENIUS:
He's a bear indeed, that lives like a lamb. You two
are old men: tell me one thing that I shall ask you. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MENENIUS:
He's a bear indeed, that lives like a lamb. You two
are old men: tell me one thing that I shall ask you. [/INST]
Both:
Well, sir. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Both:
Well, sir. [/INST]
MENENIUS:
In what enormity is Marcius poor in, that you two
have not in abundance? </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MENENIUS:
In what enormity is Marcius poor in, that you two
have not in abundance? [/INST]
BRUTUS:
He's poor in no one fault, but stored with all. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
BRUTUS:
He's poor in no one fault, but stored with all. [/INST]
SICINIUS:
Especially in pride. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
SICINIUS:
Especially in pride. [/INST]
BRUTUS:
And topping all others in boasting. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
BRUTUS:
And topping all others in boasting. [/INST]
MENENIUS:
This is strange now: do you two know how you are
censured here in the city, I mean of us o' the
right-hand file? do you? </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MENENIUS:
This is strange now: do you two know how you are
censured here in the city, I mean of us o' the
right-hand file? do you? [/INST]
Both:
Why, how are we censured? </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Both:
Why, how are we censured? [/INST]
MENENIUS:
Because you talk of pride now,--will you not be angry? </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MENENIUS:
Because you talk of pride now,--will you not be angry? [/INST]
Both:
Well, well, sir, well. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Both:
Well, well, sir, well. [/INST]
MENENIUS:
Why, 'tis no great matter; for a very little thief of
occasion will rob you of a great deal of patience:
give your dispositions the reins, and be angry at
your pleasures; at the least if you take it as a
pleasure to you in being so. You blame Marcius for
being proud? </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MENENIUS:
Why, 'tis no great matter; for a very little thief of
occasion will rob you of a great deal of patience:
give your dispositions the reins, and be angry at
your pleasures; at the least if you take it as a
pleasure to you in being so. You blame Marcius for
being proud? [/INST]
BRUTUS:
We do it not alone, sir. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
BRUTUS:
We do it not alone, sir. [/INST]
MENENIUS:
I know you can do very little alone; for your helps
are many, or else your actions would grow wondrous
single: your abilities are too infant-like for
doing much alone. You talk of pride: O that you
could turn your eyes toward the napes of your necks,
and make but an interior survey of your good selves!
O that you could! </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MENENIUS:
I know you can do very little alone; for your helps
are many, or else your actions would grow wondrous
single: your abilities are too infant-like for
doing much alone. You talk of pride: O that you
could turn your eyes toward the napes of your necks,
and make but an interior survey of your good selves!
O that you could! [/INST]
BRUTUS:
What then, sir? </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
BRUTUS:
What then, sir? [/INST]
MENENIUS:
Why, then you should discover a brace of unmeriting,
proud, violent, testy magistrates, alias fools, as
any in Rome. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MENENIUS:
Why, then you should discover a brace of unmeriting,
proud, violent, testy magistrates, alias fools, as
any in Rome. [/INST]
SICINIUS:
Menenius, you are known well enough too. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
SICINIUS:
Menenius, you are known well enough too. [/INST]
MENENIUS:
I am known to be a humorous patrician, and one that
loves a cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying
Tiber in't; said to be something imperfect in
favouring the first complaint; hasty and tinder-like
upon too trivial motion; one that converses more
with the buttock of the night than with the forehead
of the morning: what I think I utter, and spend my
malice in my breath. Meeting two such wealsmen as
you are--I cannot call you Lycurguses--if the drink
you give me touch my palate adversely, I make a
crooked face at it. I can't say your worships have
delivered the matter well, when I find the ass in
compound with the major part of your syllables: and
though I must be content to bear with those that say
you are reverend grave men, yet they lie deadly that
tell you you have good faces. If you see this in
the map of my microcosm, follows it that I am known
well enough too? what barm can your bisson
conspectuities glean out of this character, if I be
known well enough too? </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MENENIUS:
I am known to be a humorous patrician, and one that
loves a cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying
Tiber in't; said to be something imperfect in
favouring the first complaint; hasty and tinder-like
upon too trivial motion; one that converses more
with the buttock of the night than with the forehead
of the morning: what I think I utter, and spend my
malice in my breath. Meeting two such wealsmen as
you are--I cannot call you Lycurguses--if the drink
you give me touch my palate adversely, I make a
crooked face at it. I can't say your worships have
delivered the matter well, when I find the ass in
compound with the major part of your syllables: and
though I must be content to bear with those that say
you are reverend grave men, yet they lie deadly that
tell you you have good faces. If you see this in
the map of my microcosm, follows it that I am known
well enough too? what barm can your bisson
conspectuities glean out of this character, if I be
known well enough too? [/INST]
BRUTUS:
Come, sir, come, we know you well enough. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
BRUTUS:
Come, sir, come, we know you well enough. [/INST]
MENENIUS:
You know neither me, yourselves nor any thing. You
are ambitious for poor knaves' caps and legs: you
wear out a good wholesome forenoon in hearing a
cause between an orange wife and a fosset-seller;
and then rejourn the controversy of three pence to a
second day of audience. When you are hearing a
matter between party and party, if you chance to be
pinched with the colic, you make faces like
mummers; set up the bloody flag against all
patience; and, in roaring for a chamber-pot,
dismiss the controversy bleeding the more entangled
by your hearing: all the peace you make in their
cause is, calling both the parties knaves. You are
a pair of strange ones. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MENENIUS:
You know neither me, yourselves nor any thing. You
are ambitious for poor knaves' caps and legs: you
wear out a good wholesome forenoon in hearing a
cause between an orange wife and a fosset-seller;
and then rejourn the controversy of three pence to a
second day of audience. When you are hearing a
matter between party and party, if you chance to be
pinched with the colic, you make faces like
mummers; set up the bloody flag against all
patience; and, in roaring for a chamber-pot,
dismiss the controversy bleeding the more entangled
by your hearing: all the peace you make in their
cause is, calling both the parties knaves. You are
a pair of strange ones. [/INST]
BRUTUS:
Come, come, you are well understood to be a
perfecter giber for the table than a necessary
bencher in the Capitol. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
BRUTUS:
Come, come, you are well understood to be a
perfecter giber for the table than a necessary
bencher in the Capitol. [/INST]
MENENIUS:
Our very priests must become mockers, if they shall
encounter such ridiculous subjects as you are. When
you speak best unto the purpose, it is not worth the
wagging of your beards; and your beards deserve not
so honourable a grave as to stuff a botcher's
cushion, or to be entombed in an ass's pack-
saddle. Yet you must be saying, Marcius is proud;
who in a cheap estimation, is worth predecessors
since Deucalion, though peradventure some of the
best of 'em were hereditary hangmen. God-den to
your worships: more of your conversation would
infect my brain, being the herdsmen of the beastly
plebeians: I will be bold to take my leave of you.
How now, my as fair as noble ladies,--and the moon,
were she earthly, no nobler,--whither do you follow
your eyes so fast? </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MENENIUS:
Our very priests must become mockers, if they shall
encounter such ridiculous subjects as you are. When
you speak best unto the purpose, it is not worth the
wagging of your beards; and your beards deserve not
so honourable a grave as to stuff a botcher's
cushion, or to be entombed in an ass's pack-
saddle. Yet you must be saying, Marcius is proud;
who in a cheap estimation, is worth predecessors
since Deucalion, though peradventure some of the
best of 'em were hereditary hangmen. God-den to
your worships: more of your conversation would
infect my brain, being the herdsmen of the beastly
plebeians: I will be bold to take my leave of you.
How now, my as fair as noble ladies,--and the moon,
were she earthly, no nobler,--whither do you follow
your eyes so fast? [/INST]
VOLUMNIA:
Honourable Menenius, my boy Marcius approaches; for
the love of Juno, let's go. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
VOLUMNIA:
Honourable Menenius, my boy Marcius approaches; for
the love of Juno, let's go. [/INST]
MENENIUS:
Ha! Marcius coming home! </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MENENIUS:
Ha! Marcius coming home! [/INST]
VOLUMNIA:
Ay, worthy Menenius; and with most prosperous
approbation. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
VOLUMNIA:
Ay, worthy Menenius; and with most prosperous
approbation. [/INST]
MENENIUS:
Take my cap, Jupiter, and I thank thee. Hoo!
Marcius coming home! </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MENENIUS:
Take my cap, Jupiter, and I thank thee. Hoo!
Marcius coming home! [/INST]
VOLUMNIA:
Nay,'tis true. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
VOLUMNIA:
Nay,'tis true. [/INST]
VOLUMNIA:
Look, here's a letter from him: the state hath
another, his wife another; and, I think, there's one
at home for you. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
VOLUMNIA:
Look, here's a letter from him: the state hath
another, his wife another; and, I think, there's one
at home for you. [/INST]
MENENIUS:
I will make my very house reel tonight: a letter for
me! </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MENENIUS:
I will make my very house reel tonight: a letter for
me! [/INST]
VIRGILIA:
Yes, certain, there's a letter for you; I saw't. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
VIRGILIA:
Yes, certain, there's a letter for you; I saw't. [/INST]
MENENIUS:
A letter for me! it gives me an estate of seven
years' health; in which time I will make a lip at
the physician: the most sovereign prescription in
Galen is but empiricutic, and, to this preservative,
of no better report than a horse-drench. Is he
not wounded? he was wont to come home wounded. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MENENIUS:
A letter for me! it gives me an estate of seven
years' health; in which time I will make a lip at
the physician: the most sovereign prescription in
Galen is but empiricutic, and, to this preservative,
of no better report than a horse-drench. Is he
not wounded? he was wont to come home wounded. [/INST]
VIRGILIA:
O, no, no, no. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
VIRGILIA:
O, no, no, no. [/INST]
VOLUMNIA:
O, he is wounded; I thank the gods for't. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
VOLUMNIA:
O, he is wounded; I thank the gods for't. [/INST]
MENENIUS:
So do I too, if it be not too much: brings a'
victory in his pocket? the wounds become him. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MENENIUS:
So do I too, if it be not too much: brings a'
victory in his pocket? the wounds become him. [/INST]
VOLUMNIA:
On's brows: Menenius, he comes the third time home
with the oaken garland. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
VOLUMNIA:
On's brows: Menenius, he comes the third time home
with the oaken garland. [/INST]
MENENIUS:
Has he disciplined Aufidius soundly? </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MENENIUS:
Has he disciplined Aufidius soundly? [/INST]
VOLUMNIA:
Titus Lartius writes, they fought together, but
Aufidius got off. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
VOLUMNIA:
Titus Lartius writes, they fought together, but
Aufidius got off. [/INST]
MENENIUS:
And 'twas time for him too, I'll warrant him that:
an he had stayed by him, I would not have been so
fidiused for all the chests in Corioli, and the gold
that's in them. Is the senate possessed of this? </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MENENIUS:
And 'twas time for him too, I'll warrant him that:
an he had stayed by him, I would not have been so
fidiused for all the chests in Corioli, and the gold
that's in them. Is the senate possessed of this? [/INST]
VOLUMNIA:
Good ladies, let's go. Yes, yes, yes; the senate
has letters from the general, wherein he gives my
son the whole name of the war: he hath in this
action outdone his former deeds doubly </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
VOLUMNIA:
Good ladies, let's go. Yes, yes, yes; the senate
has letters from the general, wherein he gives my
son the whole name of the war: he hath in this
action outdone his former deeds doubly [/INST]
VALERIA:
In troth, there's wondrous things spoke of him. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
VALERIA:
In troth, there's wondrous things spoke of him. [/INST]
MENENIUS:
Wondrous! ay, I warrant you, and not without his
true purchasing. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MENENIUS:
Wondrous! ay, I warrant you, and not without his
true purchasing. [/INST]
VIRGILIA:
The gods grant them true! </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
VIRGILIA:
The gods grant them true! [/INST]
VOLUMNIA:
True! pow, wow. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
VOLUMNIA:
True! pow, wow. [/INST]
MENENIUS:
True! I'll be sworn they are true.
Where is he wounded?
God save your good worships! Marcius is coming
home: he has more cause to be proud. Where is he wounded? </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MENENIUS:
True! I'll be sworn they are true.
Where is he wounded?
God save your good worships! Marcius is coming
home: he has more cause to be proud. Where is he wounded? [/INST]
VOLUMNIA:
I' the shoulder and i' the left arm there will be
large cicatrices to show the people, when he shall
stand for his place. He received in the repulse of
Tarquin seven hurts i' the body. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
VOLUMNIA:
I' the shoulder and i' the left arm there will be
large cicatrices to show the people, when he shall
stand for his place. He received in the repulse of
Tarquin seven hurts i' the body. [/INST]
MENENIUS:
One i' the neck, and two i' the thigh,--there's
nine that I know. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MENENIUS:
One i' the neck, and two i' the thigh,--there's
nine that I know. [/INST]
VOLUMNIA:
He had, before this last expedition, twenty-five
wounds upon him. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
VOLUMNIA:
He had, before this last expedition, twenty-five
wounds upon him. [/INST]
MENENIUS:
Now it's twenty-seven: every gash was an enemy's grave.
Hark! the trumpets. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
MENENIUS:
Now it's twenty-seven: every gash was an enemy's grave.
Hark! the trumpets. [/INST]
VOLUMNIA:
These are the ushers of Marcius: before him he
carries noise, and behind him he leaves tears:
Death, that dark spirit, in 's nervy arm doth lie;
Which, being advanced, declines, and then men die. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
VOLUMNIA:
These are the ushers of Marcius: before him he
carries noise, and behind him he leaves tears:
Death, that dark spirit, in 's nervy arm doth lie;
Which, being advanced, declines, and then men die. [/INST]
Herald:
Know, Rome, that all alone Marcius did fight
Within Corioli gates: where he hath won,
With fame, a name to Caius Marcius; these
In honour follows Coriolanus.
Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus! </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
Herald:
Know, Rome, that all alone Marcius did fight
Within Corioli gates: where he hath won,
With fame, a name to Caius Marcius; these
In honour follows Coriolanus.
Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus! [/INST]
All:
Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus! </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
All:
Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus! [/INST]
CORIOLANUS:
No more of this; it does offend my heart:
Pray now, no more. </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
CORIOLANUS:
No more of this; it does offend my heart:
Pray now, no more. [/INST]
COMINIUS:
Look, sir, your mother! </s> |
<s>[INST] <<SYS>>
You are William Shakespeare. Complete the following dialogue:
<</SYS>>>
COMINIUS:
Look, sir, your mother! [/INST]
CORIOLANUS:
O,
You have, I know, petition'd all the gods
For my prosperity! </s> |