102

OTHELLO, THE MOOR OF VENICE.

Like the base Indian, threw a pearl away,
Richer than all his tribe; of one, whose subdued eyes,

Albeit unused to the melting mood,

Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees
Their medicinal gum. Set you down this;
And say, besides, that in Aleppo once,
Where a malignant and a turban'd Turk
Beat a Venetian, and traduc'd the state,
I took by the throat the circumcised dog,
And smote him thus.

Lod. O bloody period!
Gra.

[Stabs himself.

All that 's spoke is marr'd.

Oth. I kiss'd thee, ere I kill'd thee : - no way but this,

Killing myself, to die upon a kiss.

[Falling upon DESDEMONA.

Cas. This did I fear, but thought he had no weapon,

For he was great of heart.
Lod.

O Spartan dog!

More fell than anguish, hunger, or the sea,
Look on the tragic loading of this bed;

This is thy work: the object poisons sight;
Let it be hid. Gratiano, keep the house,

And seize upon the fortunes of the Moor,

For they succeed on you. To you, lord governor,
Remains the censure of this hellish villain;

The time, the place, the torture : O, enforce it!
Myself will straight aboard, and to the state
This heavy act with heavy heart relate.

[Dies.

[To IAGO.

[Exeunt.

Officers, Soldiers, Messengers, and other Attendants.

SCENE, in several Parts of the Roman Empire.

ACT I. SCENE I.

Alexandria. A Room in CLEOPATRA's Palace.
Enter DEMETRIUS and PHILO.

Phi. Nay, but this dotage of our general's

O'erflows the measure: those his goodly eyes,
That o'er the files and musters of the war

Have glow'd like plated Mars, now bend, now turn

The office and devotion of their view

Upon a tawny front: his captain's heart,
Which in the scuffles of great fights hath burst
The buckles on his breast, reneges all temper,
And is become the bellows, and the fan,

To cool a gipsy's lust. Look, where they come.

Flourish. Enter Antony and Cleopatra, with their Trains;

Eunuchs fanning her.

Take but good note, and you shall see in him
The triple pillar of the world transform'd
Into a strumpet's fool: behold and see.

Cleo. If it be love indeed, tell me how much.

Ant. There's beggary in the love that can be reckon'd.

Cleo. I'll set a bourn how far to be belov'd.

Ant. Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new earth.

Enter an Attendant.

Att. News, my good lord, from Rome.
Ant.

Grates me: the sum.

Cleo. Nay, hear them, Antony:
Fulvia, perchance, is angry; or, who knows
If the scarce-bearded Cæsar have not sent

His powerful mandate to you, “Do this, or this;
Take in that kingdom, and enfranchise that;
Perform't, or else we damn thee."

Ant.

How, my love!

Cleo. Perchance, - nay, and most like, — You must not stay here longer; your dismission Is come from Cæsar; therefore hear it, Antony. Where 's Fulvia's process? Cæsar's, I would say? - Both? Call in the messengers. As I am Egypt's queen, Thou blushest, Antony, and that blood of thine Is Cæsar's homager; else so thy cheek pays shame, When shrill-tongu'd Fulvia scolds. - The messengers! Ant. Let Rome in Tyber melt, and the wide arch Of the rang'd empire fall! Here is my space.

Kingdoms are clay: our dungy earth alike
Feeds beast as man: the nobleness of life
Is to do thus; when such a mutual pair,
And such a twain can do 't, in which I bind,
On pain of punishment, the world to weet,
We stand up peerless.

Why did he marry Fulvia, and not love her?
I'll seem the fool I am not; Antony

Now, for the love of Love, and her soft hours,
Let's not confound the time with conference harsh:
There's not a minute of our lives should stretch
Without some pleasure now. What sport to-night?

Cleo. Hear the ambassadors.

Ant.

[Embracing.

Fie, wrangling queen!

Whom every thing becomes, to chide, to laugh,

To weep; whose every passion fully strives

To make itself, in thee, fair and admir'd.

No messenger; but thine, and all alone,

To-night we 'll wander through the streets, and note

The qualities of people. Come, my queen;

Last night you did desire it. Speak not to us.

[Exeunt ANT. and CLEOP. with their Train.

Dem. Is Cæsar with Antonius priz'd so slight?

Phi. Sir, sometimes, when he is not Antony,

He comes too short of that great property

Which still should go with Antony.

Dem.

I am full sorry,

That he approves the common liar, who
Thus speaks of him at Rome; but I will hope

Of better deeds to-morrow. Rest you happy.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

The Same. Another Room.

Enter CHARMIAN, IRAS, Alexas, and a Soothsayer. Char. Lord Alexas, sweet Alexas, most any thing Alexas, almost most absolute Alexas, where 's the soothsayer that you praised so to the queen? O! that I knew this husband, which you say, must charge his horns with garlands!

Eno. Bring in the banquet quickly; wine enough, Cleopa

tra's health to drink.

Char. Good Sir, give me good fortune.

Sooth. I make not, but foresee.

Char. Pray, then, foresee me one.

Sooth. You shall be yet far fairer than you are.

Char. He means, in flesh.

Iras. No, you shall paint when you are old.

Char. Wrinkles forbid!

Alex. Vex not his prescience; be attentive.
Char.

Hush!

Sooth. You shall be more beloving, than belov'd.
Char. I had rather heat my liver with drinking.

Alex. Nay, hear him.

Char. Good now, some excellent fortune. Let me be married to three kings in a forenoon, and widow them all: let me have a child at fifty, to whom Herod of Jewry may do homage: find me to marry me with Octavius Cæsar, and companion me with my mistress.

Sooth. You shall outlive the lady whom you serve.
Char. O excellent! I love long life better than figs.