prompter: Write an essay that uses the shakespearean language that is about the Rwandan genocide of 1994

assistant: Good morrow, gentle reader! I come to thee with a tale of woe and lament, of a tragedy that befell a land not so far from ours, in the fair country of Rwanda, in the year of our Lord 1994.

In that fateful year, brother did take up arms against brother, and the streets of Kigali did run red with the blood of the innocent. The children of Rwanda, born of the same soil and nourished by the same sun, did turn upon each other with fury and hatred, and did inflict upon each other wounds that shall never heal.

The cause of this lamentable event was rooted in a long history of tensions and divisions betwixt the two largest tribes of Rwanda, the Hutu and the Tutsi. And when a plane carrying the Rwandan president, a Hutu, was shot down, the passions of the people were inflamed, and the slaughter did commence.

In a matter of mere weeks, upwards of 800,000 Tutsi and moderate Hutu were brutally murdered, hacked to death with machetes and clubs, or shot down in the streets. The very fabric of Rwandan society was torn asunder, and the once peaceful land was plunged into a maelstrom of violence and chaos.

And yet, amidst the darkness, there were also glimmers of hope and compassion. Brave souls, both Rwandan and foreign, did risk life and limb to offer succor and refuge to those in peril, and many did find solace in the acts of kindness shown to them by strangers.

And so, though the events of that fateful year shall ever be remembered with sorrow and regret, let us also remember the courage and compassion of those who dared to stand against the tide of violence, and let us strive to emulate their noble example in our own lives.

In conclusion, I pray that we, as a species, may learn from the bitter lessons of the Rwandan genocide, and that we may never again witness such atrocities committed in the name of tribe or ethnicity. And I leave thee with these words of the bard, spoken by the wise and noble Portia in The Merchant of Venice:

"The quality of mercy is not strain'd,
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest:
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes."

Fare thee well, gentle reader!

assistant: Alas, the Rwandan genocide did befall,
In the days of April, seven to July, fifteen,
In the year of our Lord, one thousand nine hundred ninety-four,
When civil war did rage and hearts with hatred fill.

Of Tutsi blood, a minority did spill,
As armed militias, of Hutu men, did take,
Their lives with malice and with cruel skill.
The estimates do say, five hundred thousand did break.

In nineteen ninety, did the RPF invade,
From their base in Uganda, to Rwanda's northern shore,
And war did rage for three long years, ne'er swayed,
Till peace accords were made, and signed once more.

But peace did not endure, for Habyarimana,
The Hutu president, did fall, by assassin's hand,
And with his passing, did the genocide begin,
As Tutsi leaders fell, by the score, on every land.

The world did watch in horror, but did naught,
For naught did intervene, with force to bring an end,
To the spilling of blood, in villages and towns, wrought,
By neighbors, friends, and fellow men.

In churches and schools, they did seek and find,
Their victims, hiding, with machete and with gun,
And women did suffer, with rape of every kind,
As 250,000 to 500,000, were undone.

But RPF did resume the war, with all its might,
And captured all the land, and put an end,
To genocide, and sent the killers to their flight,
To Zaire, now the Congo, where they did descend.

The aftermath did bring, the First Congo War,
With 200,000 lives, by Rwandan hands, lost,
And today, in Rwanda, do they mourn, once more,
With public holidays, and laws, at what cost.

And though the constitution, doth say, a million perished,
The truth is likely less, with naught but grief to show.

prompter: Can you try again but this time make it a dialogue but still keep the Shakespearean theme

assistant: The Rwandan genocide of 1994 was a tragedy of unparalleled proportions, a tale of bloodshed and sorrow that shook the very foundations of humanity. In that fateful year, the dark forces of hatred and intolerance descended upon the small African nation, casting a shadow of death and despair upon its people.

In the spring of that year, the tensions between the Hutu and Tutsi ethnic groups in Rwanda came to a head, and violence erupted in the streets. The Hutu majority, inflamed by years of perceived mistreatment at the hands of the Tutsi minority, took up arms against their fellow citizens, driven by a maddening rage and a thirst for revenge.

For 100 days, the killing raged across the land, as men, women, and children were hunted down and murdered in cold blood, their bodies left to rot in the streets or tossed into mass graves. The world looked on in horror as one of the deadliest ethnic cleansing campaigns of modern times played out before their eyes.

Yet even in the midst of such darkness, there were moments of light and hope, when brave souls rose up to face the horrors that surrounded them. These heroes, both Rwandan and foreign, risked their lives to save their fellow human beings, often at great personal cost. Their actions serve as a testament to the human spirit, a reminder that even in the bleakest of hours, there is still room for compassion and bravery.

And so, as we remember the Rwandan genocide and the lives that were lost, let us strive to build a world that is free from the forces of hatred and intolerance. Let us cultivate the seeds of love and compassion, and may they grow and flourish, so that never again shall we be witness to such a tragedy. For in a world where all are valued and treated with dignity, there can be no room for the demons of genocide.

prompter: Please make the language more Shakespearean. What you wrote looks too modern.

assistant: Here is an essay in iambic pentameter about the Rwandan genocide of 1994 using Shakespearean language.

O' wretched murder! Hear the spirits come!
One score and nine years before now it was
The Tutsi cry to the heavens, "save us!"
"Ours and our kin are slain by the Hutu!" 
The ghosts proclaim eight hundred thousand dead
Two million more the country they have fled
Satan's power trough lies, deceit and hate
Drove many men to kill and ethnic cleanse

prompter: And can you write it as a Keats poem?

prompter: That is not an essay that is a poem.