Imatges de pàgina
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SCENE changes to an Apartment in the Palace.

Enter Othello and Emilia.

Oth. OU have feen nothing then?

Y

Emil. Nor ever heard, nor ever did fufpect. Oth. Yes, you have feen Caffio and her together. Emil. But then I faw no harm; and then I heard Each fyllable, that breath made up between them. Oth. What did they never whisper ?

Emil. Never, my Lord.

Oth. Nor fend you out o' th' way ?

Emil. Never.

Oth. To fetch her fan,her gloves,her mafk, nor nothing? Emil. Never, my Lord

Oth. That's ftrange!

Emil. I durft, my Lord, to wager fhe is honeft,
Lay down my foul at ftake: if you think other,
Remove your thought, it doth abuse your bofom.
If any wretch hath put this in your head,
Let heav'n requite it with the ferpent's curfe!!
For if fhe be not honeft, chafte and true,

There's no man happy; the pureft of their wives
Is foul as flander.

Oth. Bid her come hither, go.

[Exit Emilia.

She fays enough; yet fhe's a fimple bawd,

That cannot fay as much. This is a fubtle whore,
A closet lock and key of villainous fecrets ;

And yet he'll kneel, and pray: I've seen her do't.
Enter Defdemona and Æmilia.

Def. My Lord, what is your will?

Oth. Pray you, chuck, come hither.

Def. What is your pleasure ?

Oth. Let me fee your eyes; look in my face.
Def. What horrible fancy's this?

Oth. Some of your function, mistress;

Leave procreants alone, and fhut the door,
Cough, or cry, hem, if any body

VOL. VIII.

come.

Your

Your myftery, your myftery ;-nay, difpatch. [Exit Em. Def. Upon my knee, what doth your speech import? I understand a fury in your words,

But not your words.

Oth. Why? what art thou?

Def. Your wife, my Lord; your true and loyal wife. Oth. Come, fwear it; damn thyfelf; left, being like one Of heav'n, the devils themselves should fear to seize thee. Therefore be double-damn'd; fwear, thou art honeft. Def. Heav'n, doth truly know it. Oth. Heav'n truly knows, That thou art falfe as hell. Def. To whom, my Lord ?

With whom? how am I false?

Oth. Ah, Desdemona! away, away, away.
Def. Alas, the heavy day! why do you weep?
Am I the motive of these tears, my Lord?

If, haply, you my father do fufpect

An inftrument of this your calling back,

Lay not your blame on me; if you have loft him,
Why, I have loft him too.

Oth. Had it pleas'd heav'n

To try me with affliction, had he rain'd
All kind of fores and fhames on my bare head,
Steep'd me in poverty to the very lips,

Giv❜n to captivity me and my hopes;

I should have found in fome place of my foul
A drop of patience. But alas, to make me
A fixed figure for the hand of scorn
To point his flow and moving finger at-
Yet could I bear that too, well, very well.
But there, where I have garner'd up my heart,
Where either I must live, or bear no life,
The fountain from the which my current runs,
Or elfe dries up; to be difcarded thence;

Or keep it as a ciftern, for foul toads

To knot and gender in: Turn thy complexion there, (27)

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Patience, thou young and rofe-lip'd Cherubin;

Patience,

I here look grim as Hell] The Poet makes an Apoftrophe to

Patience

Patience, thou young and rofe-lip'd cherubin;
Ay, there, look grim as hell.

Def. I hope, my noble Lord efteems me honeft.
Oth. Oh, ay, as fummer flies are in the shambles,
That quicken ev'n with blowing. Oh thou weed
Who art fo lovely fair, and fmell'ft fo fweet,
That the fenfe akes at thee-

'Would, thou hadft ne'er been born!

Def. Alas, what ignorant fin have I committed?
Oth. Was this fair paper, this most goodly book
Made to write whore upon ? what, what committed?
Committed?-ho, thou publick commoner !
I fhould make very forges of my cheeks,
That would to cinders burn up modefty,

Did I but speak thy deeds. What, what committed?
Heav'n ftops the nofe at it, and the moon winks
The bawdy wind, that kiffes all it meets,

Is hush'd within the hollow mine of earth,

And will not hear't, What committed?--Impudent
Strumpet!

Def. By heav'n, you do me wrong.
Oth. Are not you a ftrumpet ?

Def. No, as I am a christian.

If to preferve this veffel for my Lord
From any other, foul, unlawful, touch,"

Be not to be a ftrumpet, I am none.
Oth. What, not a whore?

Def. No, as I fhall be faved.
Oth. Is't poffible?

Def. Oh, heav'n forgive us!

Patience as a Goddefs; and is fuppos'd to make Othello bid her turn her Complexion and Cherubin's Looks, because he looks as grim as Hell upon the occafion. But I am perfuaded, the Text has been all along flightly corrupted, by miftaking I in the last Verse for the Pronoun of the firft Perfon: whereas, in our Author's days, it likewife ftood for the Adverb of affirming. As I have re form'd the Text, a proper Contraft is reftor'd; and Patience is urg'd not only to turn her Complexion, to drop the rofy Looks of a Cherub, but to put on the grim Afpect of a Fiend.

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Oth. I cry you mercy, then.

I took you for that cunning whore of Venice.
That married with Othello-

Enter Emilia.

You, miftrefs,

That have the office oppofite to St. Peter,
And keep the gate of hell; You! you! ay, you!
We have done our courfe, there's money for your pains;
I pray you, turn the key, and keep our counfel. [Exit.
Emil. Alas, what does this gentleman conceive?
How do you, madam? how do you, my good lady?
Def. 'Faith, half afleep.

Emil. Good madam,what's the matter with my Lord?
Def. With whom?

Emil. Why, with my Lord, madam?

Def. Who is thy Lord ?

Emil. He that is yours, fweet lady.

Def. I have none; do not talk to me, Æmilia.
I cannot weep; nor answer have I none,
But what fhould go by water. Pray, to-night
Lay on my bed my wedding fheets, remember;
And call thy husband hither.

Emil. Here's a change indeed!

Def. 'Tis meet I fhould be used fo, very meet: How have I been behav'd, that he might stick 'The small'ft opinion of my least misuse?

Enter Iago, and Emilia.

[Exit.

Tago. What is your pleasure, Madam? how is't with you? Def. I cannot tell; thofe, that do teach your babes, Do it with gentle means, and eafy tasks s;

He might have chid me fo: for, in good faith,
I am a child to chiding.

Jago. What's the matter, lady?

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Emil. Alas, Iago, my Lord hath fo bewhor'd her, Thrown fuch defpight and heavy terms upon her, That true hearts cannot bear it.

Def. Am I that name, lago?

Iago. What name, fair lady?

Def. Such, as, fhe faid, my Lord did fay I was.
Emil. He call'd her whore; a beggar in his drink,
Could not have laid fuch terms upon his callet.
Iago. Why did he fo?

Def. I do not know; I'm fure, I am none fuch.
Iago. Do not weep, do not weep; alas, the day!
Emil. Hath fhe forfook fo many noble matches?
Her father and her country? and her friends?
To be call'd whore? would it not make one weep ?
Def. It is my wretched fortune.

Iago.Befhrew him for't! how comes this trick upon him?
Def. Nay, heav'n doth know.

Emil. I will be hang'd, if fome eternal villain,
Some bufy and infinuating rogue,

Some cogging, cozening flave, to get fome office,
Has not devis'd this flander: I'll be hang'd elfe..
Iago. Fie, there is no fuch man; it is impoffible.
Def. If any fuch there be, heav'n pardon him!

Emil. A halter pardon him, and hell gnaw his bones!
Why should he calf her whore? who keeps her company?
What place? what time? what form? what likelihood?
The Moor's abus'd by some most villainous knave,
Some base notorious knave, fome fcurvy fellow.
Oh heav'n, that fuch companions thou'dft unfold,
And put in every honeft hand a whip,

To lafh the rafcal naked through the world,
Ev'n from the east to th' weft!

Iago. Speak within door.

Emil. Oh, fie upon them! Some fuch 'fquire he was, That turn'd your wit the feamy fide without;

And made you to fufpe&t me with the Moor.

Iago. You are a fool; go to.

Def. Alas, Iago,

What shall I do to win my Lord again?

Good friend, go to him; by this light of heav'n,

I know not how I loft him. Here I kneel; [Kneeling.
If e'er my will did trefpafs 'gainst his love,
Or in difcourfe, or thought, or actual deed;
Or that mine eyes, mine ears, or any sense,

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