Imatges de pÓgina
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He's never any thing but your true fervant.

Def. I know't, I thank you; you do love my Lord,
You've known him long; and, be you well assur’d,
He shall in strangeness ftand no farther off
Than in a politick distance.

Cal. Ay, but, lady,
That policy may either last so long,
Or feed

upon

fuch nice and waterish diet,
Or breed itself so out of circumstances,
That I being absent, and my place supply'd,
My General will forget my love and service.

Del. Do not doubt that; before Æmilia here,
I give thee warrant of thy place. Afsure thee,
If I do vow a friendship, I'll perform it
To the last article. My Lord shall never reft ;
I'll watch bim tame, and talk him out of patience ;
His bed shall seem a school, his board a fhrift;
I'll intermingle every thing he does
With Caffio's fuit: therefore be merry, Cafio ;
For thy follicitor shall rather die,
Then give thy cause away.

Enter Othello, and Iago, at diflance.
Æmil. Madam, here comes my

Lord.
Caf. Madam, I'll take my leave.
Def. Why, stay, and hear me speak.

Caf. Madam, not now; I am very ill at ease,
Unfit for mine own purposes.
Def. Well, do your discretion.

[Exit Caffio.
Iago. Hah! I like not that.-
Oth. What dost thou say?
Iago. Nothing, my Lord; or if I know not what,
Oth. Was not that Casio, parted from my

wife? Iago. Cairo, my Lord ? no, sure, I cannot think it, That he would steal away so guilty-like, Seeing you coming.

Oth. I believe, 'twas he.

Def. How now, my Lord ?
I have been talking with a suitor here,
A man that languishes in your displeasure.

Oth. Who is't you mean?
Def. Why, your lieutenant Callio. Good my Lord,
If I have any grace, or power to move you,
His prefent reconciliation take.
For if he be not one that truly loves you,
That errs in ignorance, and not in cunning,
I have no judgment in an honest face.
I pr’ythee, call him back.
Oih. Went he hence now?

Def. I, footh, fo humbled,
That he hath left part of his grief with me,
To fuffer with him. Good love, call him back.

Oth. Not now, sweet Desdemona ; some other time.
Def. But shall't be shortly?
Oth. The sooner, Sweet, for you.
Def. Shall't be to-night at supper ?
Oih. Not to-night.
Def. To-morrow dinner then ?

Oth. I shall not dine at home;
I meet the Captains at the citadel.

Des. Why then to-morrow night, or Tuesday morn,
Or Tuesday noon, or night, or Wednesday morn,
I pr’ythee, name the time; but let it not
Exceed three days ; in faith, he's penitent:
And
yet

his trespass, in our common reason,
(Save that, they fay, the wars must make examples
Out of their beit,) is not almost a fault
T'incur a private check. When shall he come ?
Tell me Othello. I wonder in my soul,
What you would ask me, that I would deny,
Or ftand so mutt’ring on : what? Michael Casio !
That came a wooing with you, and many a time,
When I spoke of you difpraisingly,
Hath ta’en your part, to have so much to do
To bring him in? trust me, I could do much-

Otb. Pr’ythee, no more ; let him come when he will,
I will deny thee nothing.

Def. Why, this is not a boon : 'Tis as I should en treat you wear your gloves, Or feed on nourishing meats, or keep you warm ;

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Or

Or fue to you, to do peculiar profit
To your own person. Nay, when I have suit,
Wherein I mean to touch your love indeed,
It shall be full of poize and difficulty,
And fearful to be granted.

Oth. I will deny thee nothing.
Whereon I do beseech thee, grant me this,
To leave me but a little to myself.

Def. Shall I deny you ? no: Farewel, my Lord.
Oth. Farewel, my Desdemona, I'll come ftrait.
Def. Æmilia, come ; be, as your fancies teach you:
Whate'er you be, I am obedient.

[Exeunt.
Manent Othello, and Iago.
Oth. Excellent Wench!--Perdition catch my soul, (22)
But I do love thee; and when I love thee not,
Chaos is come again.

lago. My noble Lord,
Oth. What dost thou say, Iago?

lago. Did Michael Callio, when you wco'd my lady, Know of

your

love ? Oth. He did, from first to last; why dost thou ask ?

lago. But for a fatisfaction of my thought, No farther harm.

Oih. Why of thy thought, Iago?
Iago. I did not think, he'd been acquainted with it.

(22) Excellent Wretch! Perdition catch my Soul,

But I do love thee ; &c.] Tho' all the printed Copies concur in this Reading, I think it is very reasonably to be suspected. Oibello is exclaiming here with Admiration and rapturous Fondneis : but Wretch can scarce be admitted to be used, unless in Compassion or Contempt. I make no question, but the Poet wrote;

Excellent Wench!

Perdition catch my Soul, &c.

It is to be observ'd, that, in SHAKESPEARE's time, Werc), Lass, and Girl were not used in that low and vulgar Acceptation as they are at this time of day; but very frequently with Dignity.

Oth.

Oth. Oh, yes, and went between us very oft. lago. Indeed!

Oih. Indeed! ay, indeed. Discern'ft thou aught in that? Is he not honest?

Iago. Honest, my Lord ?
Oth. Honest ? ay, honeft.
lago. My Lord, for aught I know.
Oth. What dost thou think?
Iago. Think, my Lord !.

Oth. Think, my Lord! why, by heav'n, thou echo'st me;
As if there were some monster in thy thought,
Too hideous to be shewn. Thou doit mean fomething:
I heard thee say but now, thou lik’df not that,
When Calio left my wife. What did ft not like?
And when I told thee, he was of my counsel,
In my whole course of wooing; thou cry'dft, indeed?
And didft contract and purse thy brow together,
As if thou then hadft shut up in thy brain
Some horrible conceit: if thou dost love me,
Shew me thy thought.

lago. My Lord! you know, I love you.

Oih. I think, thou doft:
And for I know, thou art full of love and honesty,
And weigh'it thy words before thou giv'st them breath,
Therefore these stops of thine fright me the more :
For such things, in a false disloyal knave,
Are tricks of custom ; but, in a man that's just,
They're cold dilations working from the heart,
That paflion cannot rule.

Iago. For Michael Caffio,
I dare be sworn, I think, that he is honest.

Oth. I think so too.

Iago. Men should be what they seem. Or those that be not, 'would they might seem none !

Oth. Certain, men should be what they seem.
Iago. Why, then, I think, Casio's an honest mán.

Oih. Nay, yet there's more in this ;
I pray thee, speak to me as to thy thinkings,

As

As thou dost ruminate ; and give thy worst of thoughts The worst of words.

Iago. Good my Lord, pardon me. Tho I am bound to every act of duty, I am not bound to that, all slaves are free to ; Utter my thoughts !-Why, say, they're vile and false; As where's that Palace, whereinto foul things Sometimes intrude not? who has a breast so pure, But some uncleanly apprehensions Keep leets and law-days, and in sessions fit With meditations lawful?

Oth. Thou doft conspire against thy friend, lago, If thou but think'st him wrong'd, and mak’ft his ear A ftranger to thy thoughts.

Iago. I do beseech you,
Though, I perchance, am vicious in my guess,
(As, I confess, it is my nature's plague
To spy into abuse; and oft my jealousy
Shapes faults that are not;). I intreat you then,
From one that fo imperfectly conceits,
Your wisdom would not build yourself a trouble
Out of my scattering and unsure observance :
It were not for your quiet, nor your good,
Nor for my manhood, honesty, and wisdom,
To let you know my thoughts.

Oth. What dost thou mean?

lago. Good name in inan and woman, dear my Lord, Is the immediate jewel of their souls. Who steals my pure, steals trafh;'tiscomething, nothing; 'Twas mine, 'tis his; and has been slave to thousands; But he, that filches from me my good name, Robs me of that, which not enriches him, And makes me poor indeed.

Oth. I'll know thy thoughts

lago. You cannot, if my heart were in your hand; Nor ihall not, whilst 'tis in my custody.

Oth. Ha!

lago. Oh, beware, my Lord, of jealousy; It is a green-ey'd monster, which doth mock

The

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