Imatges de pÓgina
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To beggarly divorcement, love him dearly, i nav 19b og
Comfort for swear' me! Unkindness may do much ; turistov
And bis unkindnefs may defeat my life, 1:31,1 bar
But never taint my love! I can't say, whorejs 1937
It does abbor me, now I speak the word; 1.3 mil
To do the act, that might th' addition earn,"
Nol tbe world's mafs of vanity could make me. 1 Jon 211

Iago. I pray you, be content; 'tis bur his humour, The business of the State does him offence, v mingo 1 “ And he does chide with you." wid

Defi ļf 'twere no other maps * ux ty

Iago. It is but fo, I warrant. ir Ayris [Trumpets, Hark, how these instruments fummon to supper! wall And the great messengers of Venice stay'; ". Boici Go in, and weep not ; all things shall be well. 51 [Exeunt Desdemona and Æmilia.

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How now, Roderigo ?
Rod. I do not find that thou deal'st justly with me,
Iago. What in the contrary?

Red. Every day thou doft'st me with some device, logo; and rather, as it seems to me now, keep'ft from me all conveniency, than fuppliest me with the least advantage of hope. I will, indeed, no longer endure it. Nor am I yet persuaded to put up already I have foolishly suffer'd.

lago. Will you hear me, Roderige? ist

Rcd. I have heard too much; and your words and performances are no kin together.

Iago. You charge me most unjustly,

Rod. With nought but trụth. I have wasted myself out of my means. The jewels you have had from me,

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to deliver to Desdemona, would half have corrupted a Votarift. You have told me, she hath receiv'd them, and return'd me expectations and comforts of fudden respect and acquaintance; but I find none.

Iago. Well, go to; very well.

Rod. Very wells go to ; I cannot go to, man, nor 'tis not very well, pay, I think, it is scurvy, and begin to find myself føb'd in it; ; !

lago. very well. mind

Rod. I tell you, 'tis not very well. I will make myself known to Desdemona ; - if she will return me my jewels, I will give over my fuit, and repent my unlawful follicitation; if not, assure yourself, I will seek fatisfaction of you.

Iago. You have said now

Rod. Ay, and said nothing, but what, I protest intendment of doing.

Iago. Why, now, I see, there's mettle in thee; and even from this inftant do I build on thee a better opinion than ever before. Give me thy hand, Roderigo. Thou hast taken against me a most just exception; but, I protest, I have dealt most directly in thy affair. Rod. It hath not appear'd.

Iago. I grant, indeed, it hash not appear’d; and your suspicion is not without wit and judgment. But Roderigo, if thou haft That in thee indeed, which I have greater reason to believe now than ever, I mean, purpote, courage, and valour, this night shew it. If thou the next night following enjoy nor Desdemona, take me from this world with treachery, and devise engines

Rod. 'Well, what is it? Is it within reason and budge lago. Sir, there's is special commission come from

to depure Cassio in Othello's Place. DO

. Is that true? Why, then Qtbello and Defdemona return again to Venice. 3

Iago.

for

my life,

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: lago. Oh, no; he goes into Mauritania, and taketh away with him the fair Desdemona, unless his abode be linger'd here by some accident: wherein none can be so determinate, as the removing of Casho.

Red. How do you mean removing him?

Iago. Why, by making him incapable of Othello's Place; knocking out his brains.

Rod. And that you would have me to do?

Iago. Ay, if you dare do yourself a profit and a right. He sups to-night with a harlot ; and thither will I go to him. He knows not yet of his honourable fortune; if you will watch his going thence, which I will fashion to fall out between twelve and one, you may take him at your pleasure. I will be near to second your attempt, and he shall fall between us. Come, stand not amaz’d at it, but go along with me; I will shew you such a necessity in his death, that you shall think yourself bound to put it on him. It is now high supper-time; and the night grows to waste, About it.

Rod. I will hear further reason for this. lago. And you shall be satisfied.

[Exeunt.

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Enter Othello, Lodovico, Desdemona, Æmilia, and

Attendants.

Lod. I do beseech you, Sir, trouble yourself no

further. Oib. Oh, pardon me; 'twill do me good to walk. Lod. Madam, good-night ; I humbly thank your

ladyship.
Des. Your Honour is most welcome.
Oib. Will you walk, Sir? Oh Desdemona !.
Def. My Lord.

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Otb. Get you to bed on th' instant. I will be return'd forthwith. Dismiss your attendant there. Look, it be done.

[Exit.
Def. I will, my Lord.
Æmil. How goes it now? He looks gentler than

he did.
Des. He says, he will return incontinent;
And hath commanded me to go to bed,
And bid me to dismiss you.

Æmil. Dismiss me?

Des. It was his bidding; therefore, good Æmilia,
Give me my nightly Wearing, and adieu.
We must not now displease him.

Æmil. I would, you had never seen him!
Def. So would not I; my love doth so approve

him,
That ev'n his stubbornness, his checks, and frowns,
Pr’ythee, unpin me, --have grace and favour in them.
Æmil. I have laid those sheets you bade me on the

bed.
Def. All's one. Good Father ! how foolish are our

minds?
If I do die before thee, prythee, shroud me
In one of these same sheets

Æmil. Come, come; you talk.

Des. My mother had a maid call'd Barbara,
She was in love; 3 and he, she lov’d, prov'd mad,
And did forsake her. She had a song of willow,
An old thing, 'twas, but it express'd her fortune,
And she dy'd singing it. That song to-night
3. and be, the low'd, prou'd
, she

And she prov'd mad:-
mad,

WARBURTON. And did forsake ber :-) We I believe that mad only fignihould read,

fies, wild, frantick, uncertain. and be, fee low'd, forfook

ber,

911!

Will not go from my mind; 14 Iries macb adó, a
But to go hang my bead all at one side, built
And sing it like poor Barbara, Priythee, despatch.

Æmil. Shall I go fe:ch your night-grawndo: III

Def. No, unpin me here:
This Lodovico is a proper man. .9101 95113 399 02

Æmil. A very bandsom man. 1999w obod jedi niol
Des. He speaks wello: get dign aT limi

Æmil. I know a lady in Venice would have talk'd
barefoot to Palestine for a touch of his nedher lip.
Def. S'The poor soul fat linging by a sycamore-trée,

Sing all a green willow you are [Singing. · Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knees

“ Sing willow, willow, willow : ion:
The fresh Itreams ran by her, and murmur'd her

moans;
• Sing willow, &c.
Her falt tears fell from her, and soft ned the stones;

Sing willow, &c. ; in (Lay by thefe)
• Willow, willow, &c.

(Pr’ythee, bye thee, be'll come anon) Sing all a green willow must be my garland. • Let no body blame him, his scorn I approve. Nay that's not next-Hark, who is it that knocks ? Æmil. It's the wind.

LA!

1.1.10 I've much ado,

the horror of the action, it became But to go hang my head — ] at leisure to look round for speciI have much ako to do any thing ouş additions. This addition is but hang my head. We might natural. Desdemona can at first read,

hardly forbear to fing the fong; Not to go bang my head. . The endeavours to change her train

This is perhaps the only infer- of thoughts, but her imagination tion made in the iatter editions at last prevails, and the fings it. which has improved the play. s This song, in two parts, is The rest seem to have been add- printed in a late collection of old ed for the sake of amplification ballads; the lines preserved here or of ornament. When the ima- differ somewhat from the copy gination had subsided, and the discovered by the ingenious colmind was no longer agitated by lector.

Des.

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