Imatges de pàgina

Foh! one may smell, in such, a will most rank,
Foul disproportions, thoughts unnatural.

But, pardon me, I do not in position
I Distinctly speak of her, tho' I may fear

Her will, recoiling to her better judgment,
May fall to match you with her country forms,
And haply fo repent.

Oth. Farewel, farewel ;
If more thou dost perceive, let me know more:
Set on thy wife tobserve. Leave me, Iago.
Iago. My Lord, I take my leave.

Oih. Why did I marry ?
This honest creature, doubtless,
Sees, and knows more, much more than he unfolds.

Iago. My Lord, I would I might intreat your Honour
To scan this thing no farther ; leave it to time:
Altho''tis fit that Casio have his place,
For fure he fills it up with great ability,
Yet if you please to put him off a while,
You shall by that perceive him, and his means ;
Note if your lady strain his entertainment
With any strong, or vehement importunity;
Much will be seen in that. In the mean time,
Let me be thought too busie in my fears,
(As worthy cause I have to fear I am,)
And hold her free, I do beseech your Honour.

Olb. Fear not my government.
Iago. I once more take my leave.

(Exit. S C El N E VI.

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Manet Othello.
Oth. This fellow's of exceeding honesty,
And knows all qualities, with a learned fpirit,
Of human dealings. If I prove her haggard,
Tho' that her jesses were my dear heart-strings,
I'd whistle her off, and let her down the wind
To prey at fortune. Haply, for I'm black,


And have not those soft parts of conversation
That chamberers have; or for I am declin'd
Into the vale of years, yet that's not much
She's gone, I am abus'd, and my relief
Must be to loath her. Oh the curse of marriage!
That we can call these delicate creatures ours,
And not their appetites! I had rather be a coad,
And live upon the vapour of a dungeon,
Than keep a corner in the thing I love,
For others use. Yet 'tis the plague of great ones ;
Prerogativ'd are they less than the base ;
'Tis destiny unfhunnable like death.
Even then, this forked plague is fated to us
When we do quicken. Desdemona comes :

Enter Desdemona and Æmilia.
If she be false, oh then heav'n mocks it self:
I'll not believe't.

Def. How now, my dear Othella? Your dinner, and the generous islanders By you invited, do attend your presence.

Oih. I am to blame.

Des. Why do you speak fo faintly? Are you not well?

Oih. I have a pain upon my forehead here.

Def. Why, that's with watching, ?cwill away again ; Let me but bind it hard, within this hour It will be well. Otb. Your napkin is too little ;

[She drops her bandkerchief. Let it alone : come, I'll go in with you. Des. I am very forry that you are not well. [Exeuni.


Manet Æmilia. Æmil. I am glad I have found this 4 'napkin here : This was her first remembrance from the Moor;

4 napkin;


My wayward husband hath a hundred times
Woo'd me to steal it. But she fo loves the token,
(For he conjur'd her, she should ever keep it)
That she reserves it evermore about her,
To kiss and talk to. I will have che work
Ta'en out, and give it to Iago, but
What he'll do with it, heav'n knows, not I:
I nothing, but to please his fantasie.

Enter Iago.
lago. How now? what do you here alone ?

. Do not you chide ; I have a thing for you.
lago. You have a thing for me?
It is a common thing

Æmil. Ha?
Iago. To have a foolish wife.

Æmil. Oh, is that all? what will you give me now
For that same handkerchief?

Iago. What handkerchief?

Æmil. What handkerchief?
Why, that the Moor first gave to Desdemona,
That which so often you did bid me steal.

lago. Hast stolen it from her?

Æmil. No; but she let it drop by negligence, And to th' advantage, I being here, took’t up : Look, here it is.

Iago. A good wench, give it me.

Æmil. What will you do with't, you have been so earnest To have me filch it?

Iago. Why, what's that to you ? [Snatching it.

. If'ċ be not for some purpose of import, Give't me again. Poor Lady, she'll run mad, When the shall lack it.

lago. Be not you known on't : I have use for it. Go, leave me [Exit Æmilia. I will in Caffio's lodging lose this napkin, And let him find it. Trifles light as air Are, to the jealous, confirmations strong,


As proofs of holy writ. This may do something.
The Moor already changes with my poisons :
Dang’rous conceits are in their nature poisons,
Which at the first are scarce found to diftafte ;
But with a little act upon the blood,
Burn like the mines of sulphur. - I did say so,

[Observing Othello seemingly disture'l. S CE N E VIII.

Enter Othello.
Look, where he comes ! Not poppy, nor mandragora,
Nor all the drowsie fyrups of the world,
Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet Neep,
Which thou slow'd'ft' yesterday.

Otb. Ha! false to me!
Iago. Why, how now, General ? no more of that.

Oih. Avant, be gone; thou'st set me on the rack.
I swear 'cis better to be much abus'd,
Than but to know a little.

Iago. How, my Lord?

Oib. What sense had I, in her stol'n hours of luft?
I saw't not, thought it not, it harm'd not me;
I Nept the next night well; was free and merry;
I found not Casio's kisses on her lips :
He that is robb’d, not wanting what is stol'n,
Let him not know't, and he's not robb'd at all.

Iago. I am sorry to hear this.

Oik. I had been happy, if the general camp,
(Pioneers and all,) had tafted her sweet body,
So I had nothing known. Oh now, for ever
Farewel the tranquil mind! Farewel content!
Farewel the plumed troops, and the big war,
That make ambition virtue! oh farewel!
Farewel the neighing steed, and the shrill trump,
The spirit-stirring drum, th' ear-piercing fife,
The royal banner, and all quality,



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Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war!
And oh you mortal engines, whose rude throats
Th’ immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit,
Farewel! Othello's occupation's gone.

Iago. Is’t possible, my Lord ?

Oib. Villain, be sure thou prove my love a whore; Be sure of it: give me the ocular proof,

[Catching hold on him. Or by the worth of mine eternal soul, Thou hadst been better have been born a dog, Than answer my wak'd wrath.

Iago. Is't come to this ?

Oib. Make me to see't, or at the least, so prove it,
That the probation bear no hinge, nor loop,
To hang a doubt on: or woe upon thy life!

Iago. My noble Lord

Oib. If thou doft sander her, and torture me,
Never pray more; abandon all remorse ;
On horror's head horrors accumulate;
Do deeds to make heav'n weep, all earth amaz'd;
For nothing canst thou to damnation add,
Greater than that.

lago. Oh grace! oh heav'n defend me!
Are you a man? have you a soul? or sense?
God be wi' you: take mine office. Wretched fool,
That liv'st to make thine honesty a vice!
O monstrous world! take note, take note, oh world,
To be direct and honest, is not safe.
I thank you for this profit, and from hence
I'll love no friend, lith love breeds such offence.

Otb. Nay, stay thou should'st be honest

Iago. I should be wise, for honesty's a fool,
And loses what it works for,

Oth. By the world,
I think my wife is honest, and think she is not ;
I think that thou art just, and think thou art not ;
I'll have some proof. Her name, that was as treih
As Dian's visage, is now begrim'd and black
Vol. VI.


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