Than with that hand that cut thy youth in twain, To sunder his that was thine enemy?
Forgive me, cousin!-Ah, dear Juliet,
Enter Watch, with the Page of Paris. Page. This is the place; there, where the torch doth burn.
Why art thou yet so fair? Shall I believe That unsubstantial death is amorous; And that the lean abhorred monster keeps
I Watch. The ground is bloody; Search about
Go, some of you, whoe'er you find, attach.
Thee here in dark to be his paramour? For fear of that, I still will stay with thee; And never from this palace of dim night Depart again; here, here will I remain With worms that are thy chamber-maids; O, here Go, tell the prince, -run to the Capulets,- Will I set up my everlasting rest;
[Exeunt some. Pitiful sight! here lies the county slain;- And Juliet bleeding; warm, and newly dead, Who here hath lain these two days buried.
And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars [last! From this world-wearied flesh.-Eyes, look your Arms, take your last embrace! and lips, O you The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss A dateless bargain to engrossing death!- Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide! Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark! Here's to my love![Drinks.] O, true apothecary; Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a a kiss I die. [Dies.
Enter at the other end of the church-yard, Friar Laurence with a lantern, crow, and spade.
Fri. Saint Francis be my speed! how oft to-night Have my old feet stumbled at graves!-Who's there? Bal. Here's one, a friend, and one that knows you well.
Fri. Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend, What torch is yond', that vainly lends his light To grubs and eyeless skulls; as I discern,
It burneth in the Capels' monument. Bal. It doth so, holy sir; and there 's my master,
Fri. How long hath he been there? Bal.
Fri. Go with me to the vault. Bal.
Full half an hour.
I dare not, sir;
My master knows not but I am gone hence;
And fearfully did menace me with death,
If I did stay to look on his intents.
Fri. Stay then, I'll go alone:-Fear comes upon O, much fear some unlucky thing.
Bal. As I did sleep under this yew-tree here, I dreamt my master and another fought,
And that my master slew him.
Alack, alack, what blood is this, which stains The stony entrance of this sepulchre?-
What mean these masterless and gory swords To lie discolour'd by this place of peace?
[Enters the monument.
Romeo! O, pale!-Who else? what, Paris too? And steep'd in blood?-Ah, what an unkind hour Is guilty of this lamentable chance!- The lady stirs.
[Juliet wakes and stirs.
Ful. O, comfortable friar! where is my lord? I do remember well where I should be, And there I am:-Where is my Romeo?
Fri. I hear some noise.-Lady, come from that nest Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep; A greater Power than we can contradict Hath thwarted our intents; come, come, away: Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead; And Paris too; come, I'll dispose of thee Among a sisterhood of holy nuns:
Stay not to question, for the watch is coming; Come, go, good Juliet, -[Noise again] I dare no
Jul. Go, get thee hence, for I will not away.- What's here? a cup, clos'd in my true love's hand? Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end :- O churl! drink all; and left no friendly drop, To help me after? - I wil
Haply, some poison yet doth hang on them, To make me die with a restorative.
I Watch. [Within.] Lead, boy:-Which way? Jul. Yea, noise? then I 'll be brief. O happy dagger! [Snatching Romeo's dagger. This is thy sheath; [Stabs herself] there rust, and let me die.
[Falls on Romeo's body, and dies.
Raise up the Montagues, some others search;- We see the ground whereon these woes do lie; [Exeunt other Watchmen. But the true ground of all these piteous woes, We cannot without circumstance descry.
Enter some of the Watch, with Balthasar. 2 Watch. Here 's Romeo's man, we found him in the church-yard. [hither. I Watch. Hold him in safety till the prince come Enter another Watchman, with Friar Laurence. 3 Watch. Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs, and weeps: We took this mattock and this spade from him,
As he was coming from this church-yard side. I Watch. A great suspicion; Stay the friar too.) Enter the Prince and Attendants. Prince. What misadventure is so early up, That calls our person from our morning's rest? Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, and others. Cap. What should it be, that they so shriek abroad? La. Cap. The people in the streets cry-Romeo, Some-Juliet, and some-Paris; and all run, With open outcry, toward our monument. [ears? Prince. What fear is this, which startles in your I Watch. Sovereign, here lies the county Paris And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before, [slain; Warm and new kill'd. [murder comes. Prince. Search, seek, and know how this foul I Watch. Here is a friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's These dead men's tombs. With instruments upon them, fit to open [man; [bleeds!
Cap. O, heaven!-0, wife! look how our daughter
This dagger hath mista'en, -for, lo! his house Is empty on the back of Montague, - And is mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom. La. Cap. O me! this sight of death is as a bell, That warns my old age to a sepulchre.
Enter Montague and others.
Prince. Come, Montague; for thou art early up, To see thy son and heir now early down. Mon. Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night; Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd her breath: What further woe conspires against my age? Prince. Look, and thou shalt see.
Mon. O thou untaught! what manners is in this, To press before thy father to a grave?
Prince. Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while, Till we can clear these ambiguities, And know their spring, their head, their true de- And then will I be general of your woes, And lead you even to death: Meantime forbear, And let mischance be slave to patience.- Bring forth the parties of suspicion.
Fri. I am the greatest, able to do least, Yet most suspected, as the time and place Doth make against me, of this direful murder; And here I stand, both to impeach and purge Myself condemned and myself excus'd. Prince. Then say at once what thou dost know Fri. I will be brief, for my short date of breath Is not so long as is a tedious tale. Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet, And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful wife: I married them; and their stolen marriage-day Was Tybalt's doomsday, whose untimely death Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from this city; You, to remove that siege of grief from her, For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pin'd. Betroth'd and would have married her perforce To county Paris:-Then comes she to me; And, with wild looks, bid me devise some means To rid her from this second marriage,
Or, in my cell there would she kill herself. Then gave I her, so tutor'd by my art, A sleeping potion; which so took effect As I intended, for it wrought on her
The form of death: meantime I writ to Romeo, That he should hither come as this dire night, To help to take her from her borrow'd grave, Being the time the potion's force should cease.] But he which bore my letter, friar John, Was stay'd by accident; and yesternight Return'd my letter back: Then all alone, At the prefixed hour of her waking, Came I to take her from her kindred's vault; Meaning to keep her closely at my cell, Till I conveniently could send to Romeo: But when I came (some minute ere the time Of her awaking,) here untimely lay The noble Paris, and true Romeo, dead. She wakes; and I entreated her come forth, And bear this work of heaven with patience: But then a noise did scare me froin the tomb; And she, too desperate, would not go with me, But (as it seeins) did violence on herself. All this I know; and to the marriage Her nurse is privy And, if aught in this Miscarried by my fault, let my old life Be sacrific'd, some hour before the time, Unto the rigour of severest law.
Prince. Westill have known thee for a holy man. Where 's Romeo's man? what can he say to this? Bal. I brought my master news of Juliet's death; And then in post he came from Mantua,
To this same place, to this same monument. This letter he early bid me give his father;
Prince. Give me the letter, I will look on it.- Where is the county's page, that rais'd the watch?- Sirrah, what made your master in this place?
Page. He came with flowers to strew his lady'
And bid me stand aloof, and so I did: Anon, comes one with light to ope the tomb; And, by and by, my master drew on him; And then I ran away to call the watch.
Prince. This letter doth make good the friar's words, Their course of love, the tidings of her death; And here he writes-that he did buy a poison Of a poor pothecary, and therewithal Came to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet. Where be these enemies? Capulet! Montague!- See, what a scourge is laid upon your hate, That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love i And I, for winking at your discords too, Have lost a brace of kinsmen:-all are punish'd. Cap. O, brother Montague, give me thy hand. This is my daughter's jointure, for no more Can I demand.
The sun for sorrow will not show his head: Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things; Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished:
And threaten'd me with death, going in the vault, For never was a story of more woe If I departed not, and left him there.
Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.
PERSONS REPRESENTED.
IAGO, his ancient.
BRABANTIO, a senator; father RODERIGO, a Venetian gentle- BIANCA, a courtezan. to Desdemona.
Two other senators.
GRATIANO brother to Brabantio. LODOVICO, kinsman to Braban- tio.
OTHELLO, the Moor. CASSIO, his lieutenant.
MONTANO, Othello's predecessor Officers, Gentlemen, Messengers, Musicians, Sailors, Attendants, &c.
in the government of Cyprus. Clown, servant to Othello. Herald.
DESDEMONA, wife to Othello,
SCENE I.-Venice. A Street. Enter Roderigo and Iago.
SCENE. For the First Act in VENICE; during the rest of the Play at a sea-port in CYPRUS,
Wherein the tongued consuls can propose
As masterly as he: mere prattle without practice, Is all his soldiership. But he, sir, had the election: And I, of whom his eyes had seen the proof At Rhodes, at Cyprus, and on other grounds Christen'd and heathen,-must be be-lee'd and calm'd By debitor and creditor: this counter-caster, He, in good time, must his lieutenant be,
Rod. Never tell me; I take it much unkindly That thou, lago, who hast had my purse As if the strings were thine, should'st know of this. lago. But you 'll not hear me. If ever I did dream Of such a matter, abhor me. [hate. Rod. Thou told'st me, thou didst hold him in thy And I,-bless the mark! his Moor-ship's ancient. lago. Despise me, if I do not. Three great ones of the city,
In personal suit to make me his lieutenant, Off-capp'd to him: and, by the faith of man, I know my price, I am worth no worse a place: But he, as loving his own pride and purposes, Evades them; with a bombast circumstance, Horribly stuff'd with epithets of war,
Nonsuits my mediators. For, certes, says he, I have already chose my officer.
Forsooth, a great arithmetician, One Michael Cassio, a Florentine, A fellow almost damn'd in a fair wife, That never set a squadron in the field,
Nor the division of a battle knows
More than a spinster; unless the bookish theorick, Wears out his time, much like his master's ass,
For nought but provender; and when he 's old, cashier'd;
Whip me such honest knaves: Others there are Wh Who trimm'd in forms and visages of duty, Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves; And, throwing but shows of service on their lords, Do well thrive by them, and, when they have lin'd
[soul; Do themselves homage: these fellows have some And such a one do I profess myself. For, sir, It is as sure as you are Roderigo,
Were I the Moor, I would not be Iago. In following him I follow but myself; Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty, But seeming so, for my peculiar end:
For when my outward action doth demonstrate
The native act and figure of my heart
In complement extern, 't is not long after
But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve
For daws to peck at: I am not what I am.
Rod. Sir, I will answer anything. But I beseech If 't be your pleasure and most wise consent, [you, (As partly I find it is,) that your fair daughter, At this odd-even and dull watch o' the night, Transported with no worse nor better guard, But with a knave of common hire, a gondolier, To the gross clasps of a lascivious Moor: If this be known to you, and your allowance, We then have done you bold and saucy wrongs; But if you know not this, my manners tell me We have your wrong rebuke. Do not believe That, from the sense of all civility,
I thus would play and trifle with your reverence: Your daughter, if you have not given her leave,- I say again, hath made a gross revolt; Tying her duty, beauty, wit, and fortunes, In an extravagant and wheeling stranger,
Of here and everywhere: Straight satisfy yourself: If she be in her chamber, or your house,
Let loose on me the justice of the state
Rod. What a fall Fortune does the Thicklips owe, For thus deluding you.
Rouse him: make after him, poison his delight, Proclaim him in the streets; incense her kinsmen, And though he in a fertile climate dwell,
Plague him with flies: though that his joy be joy, Yet throw such chances of vexation on 't,
As it may lose some colour.
Rod. Here is her father's house; I 'll call aloud.
lago. Do; with like timorous accent, and dire yell, As when (by night and negligence) the fire Is spied in populous cities.
Strike on the tinder, hoa!
Give me a taper; call up all my people: This accident is not unlike my dream; Belief of it oppresses me already: Light, I say! light!
[Exit from above.
Farewell; for I must leave you:
It seems not meet, nor wholesome to my place, To be produc'd (as, if I stay, 1 shall) Against the Moor: For, I do know, the state, (However this may gall him with some check,) Cannot with safety cast him. For he 's embark'd
[hoa! With such loud reason to the Cyprus' wars,
Rod. What, hoa! Brabantio! signior Brabantio, lago. Awake; what, hoa! Brabantio! thieves!
(Which even now stand in act,) that for their souls,
thieves! Another of his fathom they have none
Look to your house, your daughter, and your bags! Thieves! thieves!
To lead their business: in which regard, Though I do hate him as I do hell pains, Yet, for necessity of present life, I must show out a flag and sign of love, Which is indeed but sign. That you shall surely find
Bra. What is the reason of this terrible summons? Lead to the Sagittary the raised search; What is the matter there?
[Venice; Most grave Brabantio,
In simple and pure soul I come to you.
lago. Sir, you are one of those that will not serve God, if the devil bid you. Because we come to do you service, and you think we are ruffians, you 'll have your daughter covered with a Barbary horse: you 'll have your nephews neigh to you: you'll have coursers for cousins, and gennets for germans. Bra. What profane wretch art thou?
lago. I am one, one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter and the Moor are making the beast with two backs.
And there will I be with him. So, farewell. [Exit. Enter, below, Brabantio, and Servants, with
SCENE II. The same. Another Street.
Enter Othello, Iago, and Attendants with torches. Iago. Though in the trade of war I have slain men, Yet do I hold it very stuff o' the conscience, To do no contriv'd murder: 1 I lack iniquity Sometime to do me service: Nine or ten times I had thought to have yerk'd him here under the Oth. 'T is better as it is.
Nay, but he prated, And spoke such scurvy and provoking terms
[ribs.
Are at the duke's already: You have been hotly A Turkish fleet, and bearing up to Cyprus.
That weaken motion:-I 'll have it disputed on; 'T is probable, and palpable to thinking. I therefore apprehend and do attach thee, For an abuser of the world, a practiser Of arts inhibited and out of warrant: Lay hold upon him; if he do resist,
Subdue him at his peril. Oth. Hold your hands, Both you of my inclining, and the rest:
Were it my cue to fight, I should have known it Without a prompter.--Where will you that I go To answer this your charge?
Call thee to answer. Oth. What if I do obey?
Will give him cable. Oth. Let him do his spite: My services, which I have done the signiory, Shall out-tongue his complaints. 'T is yet to know, (Which, when I know that boasting is an honour, I shall promulgate,) I fetch my life and being From men of royal siege; and my demerits
Of law, and course of direct session,
May speak, unbonneted, to as proud a fortune As this that I have reach'd: For know, Iago,
How may the duke be therewith satisfied; Whose messengers are here about my side, Upon some present business of the state,
But that I love the gentle Desdemona,
I would not my unhoused free condition Put into circumscription and confine
For the sea's worth. But, look! what lights come
'T is true, most worthy signior,
The duke 's in council; and your noble self, I am sure is sent for.
How! the duke in council?
In this time of the night?-Bring him away: Mine 's not an idle cause the duke himself, Or any of my brothers of the state, Cannot but feel this wrong as 't were their own: For if such actions may have passage free, Bond-slaves and pagans shall our statesinen be.
SCENE III.-The same. A Council Chamber.
The Duke, and Senators, sitting Officers attending.
Duke. There is no composition in these news, That gives them credit.
Indeed, they are disproportion'd;
My letters say, a hundred and seven galleys. Duke. And mine, a hundred forty.
And mine, two hundred:
But though they jump not on a just account, (As in these cases where the aim reports,
Have sent a dozen sequent messengers
This very night, at one another's heels;
And many of the consuls, rais'd and met,
'T is oft with difference,) yet do they all confirm
Duke. Nay, it is possible enough to judgment. I do not so secure me in the error,
When, being not at your lodging to be found,
The senate hath sent about three several quests,
'T is well I am found by you.
I will but spend a word here in the house, And go with you. Cas.
[Exit. Ancient, what makes he here?
lago. 'Faith, he to-night hath boarded a land If it prove lawful prize he 's made for ever. [carack; Cas. I do not understand. lago. He's married.
Good signior, you shall more command with years Than with your weapons. [daughter? Bra. O thou foul thief, I thief, where hast thou stow'd my Damn'd as thou art, thou hast enchanted her: For I 'll refer me to all things of sense, (If she in chains of magic were not bound,) Whether a maid so tender, fair, and happy, So opposite to marriage, that she shunn'd The wealthy curled dearling of our nation, Would ever have, to incur a general mock, Run from her guardage to the sooty bosom Of such a thing as thou, -to fear, not to delight. Judge me the world, if 't is not gross in sense, That thou hast practis'd on her with foul charms; Abus'd her delicate youth with drugs, or minerals,
But the main article I do approve
By no assay of reason; 't is a pageant, To keep us in false gaze: When we consider
The importancy of Cyprus to the Turk; And let ourselves again but understand
That, as it more concerns the Turk than Rhodes, So may he with more facile question bear it,
For that it stands not in such warlike brace,
But altogether lacks the abilities
That Rhodes is dress'd in: if we make thought of this. We must not think the Turk is so unskilful, To leave that latest which concerns him first, Neglecting an attempt of ease and gain, To wake and wage a danger profitless. Duke. Nay, in all confidence, he's not for Rhodes. Off. Here is more news.
1 Sen. He's now in Florence. [spatch. The trust, the office, I do hold of you, Duke. Write from us to him, post-post-haste, de- Not only take away, but let your sentence 1 Sen. Here comes Brabantio, and the valiant Even fall upon my life.
Why, what's the matter?
Bra. My daughter! O, my daughter!
Dead? Bra. Ay, to me;
She is abus'd, stol'n from me, and corrupted
By spells and medicines bought of mountebanks: For nature so preposterously to err,
Being not deficient, blind, or lame of sense, Sans witchcraft could not-
Duke. Whoe'er he be, that in this foul proceeding Hath thus beguil'd your daughter of herself, And you of her, the bloody book of law
You shall yourself read in the bitter letter,
After your own sense; yea, though our proper son Stood in your action.
Humbly I thank your grace.
Here is the man, this Moor; whom now, it seems, Your special mandate, for the state affairs,
We are very sorry for 't. Duke. What, in your own part, can you say to this? [70 Othello.
Bra. Nothing, but this is so.
Oth. Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors, My very noble and approv'd good masters, That I have ta'en away this old man's daughter It is most true; true, I have married her; The very head and front of my offending Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my speech, And little bless'd with the soft phrase of peace;
For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith, Till now some nine moons wasted, they have us'd Their dearest action in the tented field;
And little of this great world can I speak,
More than pertains to feats of broils and battle; And therefore little shall I grace my cause, In speaking for myself: Yet, by your gracious I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver
Of my whole course of love: what drugs, what What conjuration, and what mighty magic, [charms, (For such proceeding I am charg'd withal,) I won his daughter. Bra. A maiden never bold; Of spirit so still and quiet, that her motion Blush'd at herself: and she, in spite ite of nature, Of years, of country, credit, every thing, To fall in love with what she fear'd to look on? It is a judgment maim'd, and most imperfect, That will confess, perfection so could err Against all rules of nature; and must be driven To find out practices of cunning hell,
Why this should be. I therefore vouch again,
That with some mixtures powerful o'er the blood, Or with some dram conjur'd to this effect,
To vouch this is no proof;
Without more wider and more overt test, Than these thin habits, and poor likelihoods
Of modern seeming, do prefer against him.
1 Sen. But, Othello, speak:
Did you by indirect and forced courses
Subdue and poison this young maid's affections? Or came it by request, and such fair question
As soul to soul affordeth?
Send for the lady to the Sagittary,
And let her speak of me before her father:
If you do find me foul in her report,
Duke. Fetch Desdemona hither. Oth. Ancient, conduct them: you best know the place. [Exeunt lago and Attendants.
And, till she come, as truly as to heaven I do confess the vices of my blood, So justly to your grave ears I 'll present How I did thrive in this fair lady's love, And she in mine. Duke. Say it, Othello. Oth. Her father lov'd me; oft invited me; Still question'd me the story of my life, From year to year; the battles, sieges, fortune, That I have pass'd.
I ran it through, even from my boyish days, To the very moment that he bade me tell it. Wherein I spoke of most disastrous chances; Of moving accidents by flood and field; Of hair-breadth 'scapes i' the imminent deadly Of being taken by the insolent foe And sold to slavery; of my redemption thence, And portance. In my traveller's history, (Wherein of antres vast, and deserts idle,
Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads touch
It was my hint to speak,) such was my process;- And of the Cannibals that each other eat, The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads Do grow beneath their shoulders. These things to Would Desdemona seriously incline: But still the house affairs would draw her thence; Which ever as she could with haste despatch, She 'd come again, and with a greedy ear Devour up my discourse: Which I observing, Took once a pliant hour; and found good means To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart, That I would all my pilgrimage dilate, Whereof by parcels she had something heard, But not intentively: I did consent; And often did beguile her of her tears, When I did speak of some distressful stroke That my youth suffer'd. My story being done, She gave me for my pains a world of sighs: She swore, In faith, 't was strange, 't was passing 'T was pitiful, 't was wondrous pitiful: [strange; She wish'd she had not heard it; yet she wish'd That heaven had made her such a inan: she thank'd And bade me, if I had a friend that lov'd her, [me; I should but teach him how to tell my story, And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake: She lov'd me for the dangers I had pass'd; And I lov'd her that she did pity them. This only is the witchcraft I have us'd; Here comes the lady, let her witness it.
Enter Desdemona, Iago, and Attendants. Duke. I think this tale would win my daughter too. Good Brabantio,
Take up this mangled matter at the best: Men do their broken weapons rather use, Than their bare hands.
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