Othello (Folio 1, 1623)
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THE TRAGEDIE OF
Othello, the Moore of Venice.
1
Actus Primus. Scœna Prima.
¶
Enter Rodorigo, and Iago.
¶
Rodorigo.
¶NEuer tell me, I take it much vnkindly
¶Ia. But you'l not heare me. If euer I did dream
¶Of such a matter, abhorre me.
10Thou did'st hold him in thy hate.
¶If I do not. Three Great-ones of the Cittie,
¶Off-capt to him: and by the faith of man
¶But he (as louing his owne pride, and purposes)
¶Horribly stufft with Epithites of warre,
20I haue already chose my Officer. And what was he?
¶For-sooth, a great Arithmatician,
¶(A Fellow almost damn'd in a faire Wife)
¶That neuer set a Squadron in the Field,
25Nor the deuision of a Battaile knowes
¶Is all his Souldiership. But he (Sir) had th'election;
30And I (of whom his eies had seene the proofe
¶At Rhodes, at Ciprus, and on others grounds
¶By Debitor, and Creditor. This Counter-caster,
¶He (in good time) must his Lieutenant be,
¶Rod. By heauen, I rather would haue bin his hangman.
¶Iago. Why, there's no remedie.
¶Preferment goes by Letter, and affection,
40And not by old gradation, where each second
¶Whether I in any iust terme am Affin'd
¶To loue the Moore?
45Iago. O Sir content you.
¶I follow him, to serue my turne vpon him.
¶Cannot be truely follow'd. You shall marke
¶Many a dutious and knee-crooking knaue;
50That (doting on his owne obsequious bondage)
¶For naught but Prouender, & when he's old Casheer'd.
¶Who trym'd in Formes, and visages of Dutie,
55Keepe yet their hearts attending on themselues,
¶And throwing but showes of Seruice on their Lords
¶Doe well thriue by them.
¶And when they haue lin'd their Coates
¶Doe themselues Homage.
¶It is as sure as you are Rodorigo,
¶Were I the Moore, I would not be Iago:
¶In following him, I follow but my selfe.
65Heauen is my Iudge, not I for loue and dutie,
¶For when my outward Action doth demonstrate
¶The natiue act, and figure of my heart
¶In Complement externe, 'tis not long after
70But I will weare my heart vpon my sleeue
¶For Dawes to pecke at; I am not what I am.
¶Rod. What a fall Fortune do's the Thicks-lips owe
¶If he can carry't thus?
¶Iago. Call vp her Father:
¶And though he in a fertile Clymate dwell,
¶Plague him with Flies: though that his Ioy be Ioy,
¶Yet throw such chances of vexation on't,
¶Iago. Doe, with like timerous accent, and dire yell,
¶As when (by Night and Negligence) the Fire
¶Is spied in populus Citties.
85Rodo. What hoa: Brabantio, Siginor Brabantio, hoa.
¶Iago. Awake: what hoa, Brabantio: Theeues, Theeues.
¶Looke to your house, your daughter, and your Bags,
¶Theeues, Theeues.
90Summons? What is the matter there?
¶Rodo. Signior is all your Familie within?
¶Iago. Are your Doores lock'd?
¶Bra. Why? Wherefore ask you this?
¶Euen now, now, very now, an old blacke Ram
¶Awake the snorting Cittizens with the Bell,
¶Bra. Not I: what are you?
¶Rod. My name is Rodorigo.
¶I haue charg'd thee not to haunt about my doores:
¶(Being full of Supper, and distempring draughtes)
110Vpon malitious knauerie, dost thou come
¶To start my quiet.
¶Rod. Sir, Sir, Sir.
¶My spirits and my place haue in their power
115To make this bitter to thee.
¶Rodo. Patience good Sir.
¶and you thinke we are Ruffians, you'le haue your Daugh-
125phewes neigh to you, you'le haue Coursers for Cozens :
¶and Gennets for Germaines.
¶Bra. What prophane wretch art thou?
¶ter and the Moore, are making the Beast with two backs.
130Bra. Thou art a Villaine.
¶Iago. You are a Senator.
135(As partly I find it is) that your faire Daughter,
¶At this odde Euen and dull watch o'th'night
¶But with a knaue of common hire, a Gundelier,
140If this be knowne to you, and your Allowance,
¶We then haue done you bold, and saucie wrongs.
¶But if you know not this, my Manners tell me,
¶We haue your wrong rebuke. Do not beleeue
¶That from the sence of all Ciuilitie,
145I thus would play and trifle with your Reuerence.
¶Your Daughter (if you haue not giuen her leaue)
¶Tying her Dutie, Beautie, Wit, and Fortunes
¶In an extrauagant, and wheeling Stranger,
¶For thus deluding you.
¶Bra. Strike on the Tinder, hoa:
155Giue me a Taper: call vp all my people,
¶This Accident is not vnlike my dreame,
Exit.
¶Against the Moore. For I do know the State,
¶(How euer this may gall him with some checke)
¶Another of his Fadome, they haue none,
¶Though I do hate him as I do hell apines,
¶Lead to the Sagitary the raised Search:
¶And there will I be with him. So farewell.
Exit.
175
Enter Brabantio, with Seruants and Torches.
¶Raise all my Kindred. Are they married thinke you?
¶Rodo. Truely I thinke they are.
¶Oh treason of the blood.
¶Fathers, from hence trust not your Daughters minds
¶By what you see them act. Is there not Charmes,
¶By which the propertie of Youth, and Maidhood
190May be abus'd? Haue you not read Rodorigo,
¶Rod. Yes Sir: I haue indeed.
¶Bra. Call vp my Brother: oh would you had had her.
¶Some one way, some another. Doe you know
195Where we may apprehend her, and the Moore?
¶To get good Guard, and go along with me.
¶(I may command at most) get Weapons (hoa)
¶On good Rodorigo, I will deserue your paines.
Exeunt.
¶
Scena Secunda.
¶
Enter Othello, Iago, Attendants, with Torches.
¶To do no contriu'd Murder: I lacke Iniquitie
¶Sometime to do me seruice. Nine, or ten times
¶I had thought t'haue yerk'd him here vnder the Ribbes.
¶Othello. 'Tis better as it is.
210Iago. Nay but he prated,
¶I did full hard forbeare him. But I pray you Sir,
215That the Magnifico is much belou'd,
¶And hath in his effect a voice potentiall
¶As double as the Dukes: He will diuorce you.
¶Or put vpon you, what restraint or greeuance,
¶The Law (with all his might, to enforce it on)
220Will giue him Cable.
¶My Seruices, which I haue done the Signorie
¶Shall out-tongue his Complaints. 'Tis yet to know,
¶Which when I know, that boasting is an Honour,
225I shall promulgate. I fetch my life and being,
¶From Men of Royall Seige. And my demerites
¶May speake (vnbonnetted) to as proud a Fortune
¶As this that I haue reach'd. For know Iago,
¶But that I loue the gentle Desdemona,
230I would not my vnhoused free condition
¶Put into Circumscription, and Confine,
¶For the Seas worth. But looke, what Lights come yond?
¶
Enter Cassio, with Torches.
235You were best go in.
¶My Parts, my Title, and my perfect Soule
¶Shall manifest me rightly. Is it they?
¶Iago. By Ianus, I thinke no.
240Othel. The Seruants of the Dukes?
¶And my Lieutenant?
¶What is the Newes?
¶Cassio. The Duke do's greet you (Generall)
¶Enen on the instant.
¶Othello. What is the matter, thinke you?
¶Cassio. Something from Cyprus, as I may diuine:
¶This very night, at one anothers heeles:
¶And many of the Consuls, rais'd and met,
¶Are at the Dukes already. You haue bin hotly call'd for,
¶When being not at your Lodging to be found,
¶To search you out.
¶Othel. 'Tis well I am found by you:
¶And goe with you.
260Cassio. Aunciant, what makes he heere?
¶Iago. Faith, he to night hath boarded a Land Carract,
¶If it proue lawfull prize, he's made for euer.
¶Iago. He's married.
265Cassio. To who?
¶Iago. Marry to---Come Captaine, will you go?
¶Othel. Haue with you.
¶
Enter Brabantio, Rodorigo, with Officers, and Torches.
270Iago. It is Brabantio: Generall be aduis'd,
¶He comes to bad intent.
¶Rodo. Signior, it is the Moore.
¶Bra. Downe with him, Theefe.
275Iago. You, Rodorigoc?. Cme Sir, I am for you.
¶Othe. Keepe vp your bright Swords, for the dew will
¶yeares, then with your Weapons.
¶Bra. Oh thou foule Theefe,
¶Damn'd as thou art, thou hast enchaunted her
¶(If she in Chaines of Magick were not bound)
¶Whether a Maid, so tender, Faire, and Happie,
¶The wealthy curled Deareling of our Nation,
¶Would euer haue (t'encurre a generall mocke)
¶Of such a thing as thou: to feare, not to delight?
¶That thou hast practis'd on her with foule Charmes,
¶Abus'd her delicate Youth, with Drugs or Minerals,
¶That weakens Motion. Ile haue't disputed on,
¶'Tis probable, and palpable to thinking;
295I therefore apprehend and do attach thee,
¶Of Arts inhibited, and out of warrant;
¶Subdue him, at his perill.
300Othe. Hold your hands
¶Both you of my inclining, and the rest.
¶Were it my Cue to fight, I should haue knowne it
¶Without a Prompter. Whether will you that I goe
¶To answere this your charge?
¶Call thee to answer.
¶Othe. What if do obey?
¶How may the Duke be therewith satisfi'd,
¶To bring me to him.
¶In this time of the night? Bring him away;
¶Or any of my Brothers of the State,
320Cannot but feele this wrong, as 'twere their owne:
Exeunt
¶
Scæna Tertia.
¶
Enter Duke, Senators, and Officers.
¶That giues them Credite.
¶Duke. And mine a Hundred fortie.
3302. Sena. And mine two Hundred:
¶But though they iumpe not on a iust accompt,
¶'Tis oft with difference) yet do they all confirme
¶A Turkish Fleete, and bearing vp to Cyprus.
¶But the maine Article I do approue
340
Enter Saylor.
¶So was I bid report here to the State,
345By Signior Angelo.
¶1. Sen. This cannot be
350Th'importancie of Cyprus to the Turke;
¶That as it more concernes the Turke then Rhodes,
¶So may he with more facile question beare it,
355But altogether lackes th'abilities
¶That Rhodes is dress'd in. If we make thought of this,
¶Neglecting an attempt of ease, and gaine
¶Duke. Nay, in all confidence he's not for Rhodes.
¶Officer. Here is more Newes.
¶
Enter a Messenger.
¶Messen. The Ottamites. Reueren'd, and Gracious,
365Steering with due course toward the Ile of Rhodes,
¶Haue there inioynted them with an after Fleete.
¶Their backward course, bearing with frank appearance
370Their purposes toward Cyprus. Signior Montano,
¶With his free dutie, recommends you thus,
¶And prayes you to beleeue him.
¶Duke. 'Tis certaine then for Cyprus:
375Marcus Luccicos is not he in Towne?
¶1. Sen. He's now in Florence.
¶Duke. Write from vs,
¶1. Sen. Here comes Brabantio, and the Valiant Moore.
380
Enter Brabantio, Othello, Cassio, Iago, Rodorigo,
¶
and Officers.
¶Against the generall Enemy Ottoman.
¶I did not see you: welcome gentle Signior,
385We lack't your Counsaile, and your helpe to night.
¶Hath rais'd me from my bed; nor doth the generall care
¶Take hold on me. For my perticular griefe
390Is of so flood-gate, and ore-bearing Nature,
¶Duke. Why? What's the matter?
¶Bra. My Daughter: oh my Daughter!
395Sen. Dead?
¶Bra. I, to me.
¶She is abus'd, stolne from me, and corrupted
¶By Spels, and Medicines, bought of Mountebanks;
¶Sans witch-craft could not.
¶Duke. Who ere he be, that in this foule proceeding
¶Hath thus beguil'd your Daughter of her selfe,
¶And you of her; the bloodie Booke of Law,
¶Stood in your Action.
¶Bra. Humbly I thanke your Grace,
¶Here is the man; this Moore, whom now it seemes
410Your speciall Mandate, for the State affaires
¶Hath hither brought.
¶My very Noble, and approu'd good Masters;
¶That I haue tane away this old mans Daughter,
¶It is most true: true I haue married her;
¶The verie head, and front of my offending,
420Hath this extent; no more. Rude am I, in my speech,
¶Their deerest action, in the Tented Field:
425And little of this great world can I speake,
¶More then pertaines to Feats of_Broiles, and Battaile,
¶I will a round vn-varnish'd u Tale deliuer,
430Of my whole course of Loue.
¶What Drugges, what Charmes,
¶What Coniuration, and what mighty Magicke,
¶(For such proceeding I am charg'd withall)
¶I won his Daughter.
435Bra. A Maiden, neuer bold:
¶Of Yeares, of Country, Credite, euery thing
¶To fall in Loue, with what she fear'd to looke on;
440It is a iudgement main'd, and most imperfect.
¶To find out practises of cunning hell
¶Why this should be. I therefore vouch againe,
445That with some Mixtures, powrefull o're the blood,
¶Or with some Dram, (coniur'd to this effect)
¶He wtought vp on her.
¶To vouch this, is no proofe,
¶Without more wider, and more ouer Test
450Then these thin habits, and poore likely-hoods
¶Did you, by indirect, and forced courses
¶Subdue, and poyson this yong Maides affections?
¶Send for the Lady to the Sagitary.
¶And let her speake of me before her Father;
460If you do finde me foule, in her_report,
¶The Trust, the Office, I do hold of you,
¶Not onely take away, but let your Sentence
¶Euen fall vpon my life.
465Othe. Aunciant, conduct them:
¶You best know the place.
¶And tell she come, as truely as to heauen,
470How I did thriue in this faire Ladies loue,
¶And she in mine.
¶Duke. Say it Othello.
¶Othe. Her Father lou'd me, oft inuited me:
¶Still question'd me the Storie of my life,
475From yeare to yeare: the Battaile, Sieges, Fortune,
¶That I haue past.
¶I ran it through, euen from my boyish daies,
¶To_th'very moment that he bad me tell it.
480Of mouing Accidents by Flood and Field,
¶Of haire-breadth scapes i'th'imminent deadly breach;
¶Of being taken by the Insolent Foe,
¶And portance in my Trauellours historie.
¶Rough Quarries, Rocks, Hills, whose head touch heauen,
¶And of the Canibals that each others eate,
¶The Antropophague, and men whose heads
¶She'l'd come againe, and with a greedie eare
¶Tooke once a pliant houre, and found good meanes
¶To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart,
¶That I would all my Pilgrimage dilate,
¶And often did beguile her of her teares,
¶That my youth suffer'd: My Storie being done,
¶'Twas pittifull: 'twas wondrous pittifull.
¶That Heauen had made her such a man. She thank'd me,
¶And bad me, if I had a Friend that lou'd her,
510I should but teach him how to tell my Story,
¶And that would wooe her. Vpon this hint I spake,
¶She lou'd me for the dangers I had past,
¶And I lou'd her, that she did pitty them.
¶This onely is the witch-craft I haue vs'd.
¶
Enter Desdemona, Iago, Attendants.
¶Duke. I thinke this tale would win my Daughter too,
¶Good Brabantio, take vp this mangled matter at the best:
¶Men do their broken Weapons rather vse,
520Then their bare hands.
¶Destruction on my head, if my bad blame
¶Light on the man. Come hither gentle Mistris,
525Do you perceiue in all this Noble Companie,
¶Where most you owe obedience?
¶Des. My Noble Father,
¶I do perceiue heere a diuided dutie.
¶To you I am bound for life, and education:
530My life and education both do learne me,
¶How to respect you. You are the Lord of duty,
¶I am hitherto your Daughter. But heere's my Husband;
¶To you, preferring you before her Father:
¶Due to the Moore my Lord.
¶Bra. God be with you: I haue done.
¶Please it your Grace, on to the State Affaires;
¶I had rather to adopt a Child, then get it.
540Come hither Moore;
¶I here do giue thee that with all my heart,
¶Which but thou hast already, with all my heart
¶I would keepe from thee. For your sake (Iewell)
¶I am glad at soule, I haue no other Child;
545For thy escape would teach me Tirranie
¶To hang clogges on them. I haue done my Lord.
¶And lay a Sentence,
550When remedies are past, the griefes are ended
¶Is the next way to draw new mischiefe on.
¶What cannot be presern'd, when Fortune takes:
555Patience, her Iniury a mock'ry makes.
¶Bra. So let the Turke of Cyprus vs beguile,
560He beares the Sentence well, that nothing beares,
¶But the free comfort which from thence he heares.
¶But he beares both the Sentence, and the sorrow,
¶That to pay griefe, must of poore Patience borrow.
¶These Sentences, to Sugar, or to Gall,
¶But words are words, I neuer yet did heare:
¶That the bruized heart was pierc'd through the eares.
¶I humbly beseech you proceed to th'Affaires of State.
570makes for Cyprus: Othello, the Fortitude of the place is
¶borne, and boystrous expedition.
¶Hath made the flinty and Steele Coach of Warre
¶My thrice-driuen bed of Downe. I do agnize
580A Naturall and prompt Alacartie,
¶Most humbly therefore bending to your State,
585Due reference of Place, and Exhibition,
¶As leuels with her breeding.
¶Duke. Why at her Fathers?
590Othe. Nor I.
¶To put my Father in impatient thoughts
¶By being in his eye. Most Grcaious Duke,
¶To my vnfolding, lend your prosperous eare,
595And let me finde a Charter in your voice
¶Des. That I loue the Moore, to liue with him,
¶My downe-right violence, and storme of Fortunes,
600May trumpet to the world. My heart's subdu'd
¶Euen to the very quality of my Lord;
¶And to his Honours and his valiant parts,
605So that (deere Lords) if I be left behind
¶A Moth of Peace, and he go to the Warre,
¶The Rites for why I loue him, are bereft me:
¶By his deere absence. Let me go with him.
610Othe. Let her haue your voice.
¶Vouch with me Heauen, I therefore beg it not
¶To please the pallate of my Appetite:
¶Nor to comply with heat the yong affects
¶In my defunct, and proper satisfaction.
615But to be free, and bounteous to her minde:
¶And Heauen defend your good soules, that you thinke
¶When she is with me. No, when light wing'd Toyes
¶Let House-wiues make a Skillet of my Helme,
¶Othe. With all my heart.
630Duke. At nine i'th'morning, here wee'l meete againe.
¶Othello, leaue some Officer behind
¶As doth import you.
¶To be sent after me.
¶Good night to euery one. And Noble Signior,
¶If Vertue no delighted Beautie lacke,
¶Your Son-in-law is farre more Faire then Blacke.
¶She ha's deceiu'd her Father, and may thee.
Exit.
¶I prythee let thy wife attend on her,
650And bring them after in the best aduantage.
¶ComeDesdemona, I haue but an houre
¶Of Loue, of wordly matter, and direction
Exit.
¶Rod. Iago.
660thou silly Gentleman?
¶and then haue we a prescription to dye, when death is
¶our Physition.
¶Iago. Oh villanous: I haue look'd vpon the world
¶betwixt a Benefit, and an Iniurie: I neuer found man that
¶drowne my selfe for the loue of a Gynney Hen, I would
¶change my Humanity with a Baboone.
¶to be so fond, but it is not in my vertue to amend it.
¶thus, or thus. Our Bodies are our Gardens, to the which,
¶our Wills are Gardiners. So that if we will plant Net-
¶Supplie it with one gender of Hearbes, or distract it with
¶thoritie of this lies in our Wills. If the braine of our liues
¶haue Reason to coole our raging Motions, our carnall
¶Stings, or vnbitted Lusts: whereof I take this, that you
685call Loue, to be a Sect, or Seyen.
¶Rod. It cannot be.
¶of the will. Come, be a man: drowne thy selfe? Drown
¶Cats, and blind Puppies. I haue profest me thy Friend,
¶then now. Put Money in thy purse: follow thou the
695should continue her loue to the Moore. Put Money in
¶are changeable in their wils: fill thy purse with Money.
705it a more delicate way then drowning. Make all the Mo-
¶not too hard for my wits, and all the Tribe of hell, thou
¶drown'd, and go without her.
¶told thee often, and I re-tell thee againe, and againe, I
¶Wombe of Time, which wilbe deliuered. Trauerse, go,
¶prouide thy Money. We will haue more of this to mor-
¶row. Adieu.
725Iago. At my Lodging.
¶Rod. Ile be with thee betimes.
¶Iago. Go too, farewell. Do you heare Rodorigo?
730For I mine owne gain'd knowledge should prophane
¶But for my Sport, and Profit: I hate the Moore,
¶And it is thought abroad, that 'twixt my sheets
¶She ha's done my Office. I know not if't be true,
¶Will do, as if for Surety. He holds me well,
¶To get his Place, and to plume vp my will
740In double Knauery. How? How? Let's see.
¶That he is too familiar with his wife:
745The Moore is of a free, and open Nature,
¶And will as tenderly be lead by'th'Nose
¶I haue't: it is engendred: Hell, and Night,
¶
Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.
¶
Enter Montano, and two Gentlemen.
¶1. Gent. Nothing at all, it is a high wrought Flood:
755I cannot 'twixt the Heauen, and the Maine,
¶Descry a Saile.
¶If it hath ruffiand so vpon the Sea,
760What ribbes of Oake, when Mountaines melt on them,
¶Can hold the Morties. What shall we heare of this?
¶For do but stand vpon the Foaming Shore,
¶The chidden Billow seemes to pelt the Clowds,
¶Seemes to cast water on the burning Beare,
¶And quench the Guards of th'euer-fixed Pole:
¶I neuer did like mollestation view
¶On the enchafed Flood.
¶Be not enshelter'd, and embay'd, they are drown'd,
¶
Enter a Gentleman.
¶3 Newes Laddes: our warres are done:
¶On most part of their Fleet.
¶Lieutenant to the warlike Moore, Othello,
¶Is come on Shore: the Moore himselfe at Sea,
¶Mon. I am glad on't:
785'Tis a worthy Gouernour.
¶And praye the Moore be safe; for they were parted
¶With fowle and violent Tempest.
790Mon. Pray Heauens he be:
¶For I haue seru'd him, and the man commands
¶Like a full Soldier. Let's to the Sea-side (hoa)
¶As to throw-out our eyes for braue Othello,
795Euen till we make the Maine, and th'Eriall blew,
¶An indistinct regard.
¶For euery Minute is expectancie
¶Of more Arriuancie.
800
Enter Cassio.
¶That so approoue the Moore: Oh let the Heauens
¶Giue him defence against the Elements,
¶For I haue lost him on a dangerous Sea.
¶Of verie expert, and approu'd Allowance;
¶Therefore my hope's (not surfetted to death)
¶Stand in bold Cure.
810Within. A Saile, a Saile, a Saile.
¶Gent. The Towne is empty; on the brow o'th'Sea
¶Stand rankes of People, and they cry, a Saile.
¶Our Friends, at least.
¶Cassio. I pray you Sir, go forth,
¶And giue vs truth who 'tis that is arriu'd.
820Mon. But good Lieutenant, is your Generall wiu'd?
¶That paragons description, and wilde Fame:
¶One that excels the quirkes of Blazoning pens,
825Do's tyre the Ingeniuer.
¶
Enter Gentleman.
¶How now? Who ha's put in?
¶Gent. 'Tis one Iago, Auncient to the Generall.
¶The gutter'd-Rockes, and Congregated Sands,
¶As hauing sence of Beautie, do omit
¶Their mortall Natures, letting go safely by
¶Our great Captains Captaine,
¶Left in the conduct of the bold Iago,
840Whose footing heere anticipates our thoughts,
¶A Senights speed. Great Ioue, Othello guard,
¶And swell his Saile with thine owne powrefull breath,
¶Make loues quicke pants in Desdemonaes Armes,
845Giue renew'd fire to our extincted Spirits.
¶
Enter Desdemona, Iago, Rodorigo, and Æmilia.
¶Oh behold,
¶The Riches of the Ship is come on shore:
¶You men of Cyprus, let her haue your knees.
850Haile to thee Ladie: and the grace of Heauen,
¶Before, behinde thee, and on euery hand
¶Enwheele thee round.
¶What tydings can you tell of my Lord?
855Cas. He is not yet arriu'd, nor know I ought
¶But that he's well, and will be shortly heere.
¶Des. Oh, but I feare:
¶How lost you company?
¶Cassio. The great Contention of Sea, and Skies
860Parted our fellowship. But hearke, a Saile.
¶Within. A Saile, a Saile.
¶Gent. They giue this greeting to the Cittadell:
¶This likewise is a Friend.
¶Cassio. See for the Newes:
865Good Ancient, you are welcome. Welcome Mistris:
¶Let it not gaule your patience (good Iago)
¶That I extend my Manners. 'Tis my breeding,
¶You would haue enough.
875Marry before your Ladyship, I grant,
¶She puts het tongue a little in her heart,
¶And chides with thinking.
¶Iago. Come on, come on: you are Pictures out of
880doore: Bells in your Parlours: Wilde-Cats in your Kit-
¶chens: Saints in your Iniuries: Diuels being offended:
¶Beds.
¶Des. Oh, fie vpon thee, Slanderer
¶You rise to play, and go to bed to worke.
¶Iago. No, let me not.
890praise me?
¶Iago. Oh, gentle Lady, do not put me too,t,
¶For I am nothing, if not Criticall.
¶There's one gone to the Harbour?
895Iago. I Madam.
¶Des. I am not merry: but I do beguile
¶Iago. I am about it, but indeed my inuention comes
900from my pate, as Birdlyme do's from Freeze, it pluckes
¶is deliuer'd.
905Des. Well prais'd:
¶How if she be Blacke and Witty?
¶For euen her folly helpt her to an heire.
915for her that's Foule, and Foolish.
¶But do's foule pranks, which faire, and wise-ones do.
920uing woman indeed? One, that in the authorithy of her
¶merit, did iustly put on the vouch of very malice it
¶selfe.
¶Iago. She that was euer faire, and neuer proud,
¶Had Tongue at will, and yet was neuer loud:
925Neuer lackt Gold, and yet went neuer gay,
¶She that being angred, her reuenge being nie,
930To change the Cods-head for the Salmons taile:
¶See Suitors following, and not looke behind:
¶Des. To do what?
¶not learne of him Æmillia, though he be thy husband.
¶berall Counsailor?
¶him more in the Souldier, then in the Scholler.
¶per. With as little a web as this, will I ensnare as great
¶lippes? Would they were Cluster-pipes for your
¶sake.
¶The Moore I know his Trumpet.
955Des. Let's meete him, and recieue him.
¶Cassio. Loe, where he comes.
¶
Enter Othello, and Attendants.
¶Oth. O, my faire Warriour.
¶Des. My deere Othello.
960Othe. It giues me wonder great, as my content
¶To see you heere before me.
¶Oh my Soules Ioy:
¶May the windes blow, till they haue waken'd death:
965And let the labouring Barke climbe hills of Seas
¶Olympus high: and duck againe as low,
¶As hell's from Heauen. If it were now to dye,
¶'Twere now to be most happy. For I feare,
970That not another comfort like to this,
¶Succeedes in vnknowne Fate.
¶Des. The Heauens forbid
¶But that our Loues
975Euen as our dayes do grow.
¶I cannot speake enough of this content,
¶It stoppes me heere: it is too much of ioy.
980That ere our hearts shall make.
¶Newes (Friends) our Warres are done:
985The Turkes are drown'd.
¶How do's my old Acquaintance of this Isle?
¶I haue found great loue among'st them. Oh my Sweet,
¶I prattle out of fashion, and I doate
990In mine owne comforts. I prythee, good Iago,
¶Go to the Bay, and disimbarke my Coffers:
¶Bring thou the Master to the Cittadell,
995Once more well met at Cyprus.
¶
Exit Othello and Desdemona.
¶being in Loue, haue then a Nobilitie in their Natures,
1000more then is natiue to them) list-me; the Lieutenant to
¶thee this: Desdemona, is directly in loue with him.
¶the Moore, but for bragging, and telling her fantasticall
¶heart thinke it. Her eye must be fed. And what delight
1010is made dull with the Act of Sport, there should be a
¶game to enflame it, and to giue Satiety a fresh appetite.
¶and Beauties: all which the Moore is defectiue in. Now
¶for want of these requir'd Conueniences, her delicate
¶further conscionable, then in putting on the meere forme
¶mindes looke after. A pestilent compleat knaue, and the
1030woman hath found him already.
¶bless'd condition.
¶marke that?
¶They met so neere with their lippes, that their breathes
¶embrac'd together. Villanous thoughts Rodorigo, when
¶brought you from Venice. Watch you to night: for
¶nister.
¶Rod. Well.
1055happely may strike at you, prouoke him that he may: for
1060shall then haue to preferre them. And the impediment
¶most profitably remoued, without the which there were
¶no expectation of our prosperitie.
¶tunity.
1065Iago. I warrant thee. Meete me by and by at the
¶well.
1070That she loues him, 'tis apt, and of great Credite.
¶The Moore (how beit that I endure him not)
¶Is of a constant, louing, Noble Nature,
¶And I dare thinke, he'le proue to Desdemona
¶A most deere husband. Now I do loue her too,
¶But partely led to dyet my Reuenge,
¶Hath leap'd into my Seate. The thought whereof,
1080Doth (like a poysonous Minerall) gnaw my Inwardes:
¶And nothing can, or shall content my Soule
¶Till I am eeuen'd with him, wife, for wift.
¶Or fayling so, yet that I put the Moore,
1085That iudgement cannot cure. Which thing to do,
¶If this poore Trash of Venice, whom I trace
¶For his quicke hunting, stand the putting on,
¶Abuse him to the Moore, in the right garbe
¶Make the Moore thanke me, loue me, and reward me,
¶And practising vpon his peace, and quiet,
1095Knaueries plaine face, is neuer seene, till vs'd.
Exit.
¶
Scena Secunda.
¶
Enter Othello's, Herald with a Proclamation.
¶ant Generall. That vpon certaine tydings now arriu'd,
1100importing the meere perdition of the Turkish Fleete:
¶euery man put himselfe into Triumph. Some to daunce,
¶some to make Bonfires, each man, to what Sport and
¶ficiall Newes, it is the Celebration of his Nuptiall. So
¶ces are open, & there is full libertie of Feasting from this
¶presenr houre of fiue, till the Bell haue told eleuen.
¶lo.
Exit.
1110
Enter Othello, Desdemona, Cassio, and Attendants.
¶Othe. Good Michael, looke you to the guard to night.
¶Cas. Iago, hath direction what to do.
¶Will I looke to't.
¶Michael, goodnight. To morrow with your earliest,
¶Let me haue speech with you. Come my deere Loue,
¶That profit's yet to come 'tweene me, and you.
¶Goodnight.
Exit.
¶
Enter Iago.
1125Iago. Not this houre Lieutenant: 'tis not yet ten
¶o'th'clocke. Our Generall cast vs thus earely for the
¶loue of his Desdemona: Who, let vs not therefore blame;
¶he hath not yet made wanton the night with her: and
¶Iago. And Ile warrant her, full of Game.
¶Methinkes it sounds a parley to prouocation.
1135Cas. An inuiting eye:
¶And yet me thinkes right modest.
¶Is it not an Alarum to Loue?
¶Cas. She is indeed perfection.
¶tenant, I haue a stope of Wine, and heere without are a
¶brace of Cyprus Gallants, that would faine haue a mea-
¶Cas. Not to night, good Iago, I haue very poore,
¶tainment.
¶Iago. Oh, they are our Friends: but one Cup, Ile
¶drinke for you.
1150Cassio. I haue drunke but one Cup to night, and that
¶was craftily qualified too: and behold what inouation
¶it makes heere. I am infortunate in the infirmity, and
1155lants desire it.
¶Cas. Where are they?
¶Iago. Heere, at the doore: I pray you call them in.
1160With that which he hath drunke to night alreadie,
¶He'l be as full of Quarrell, and offence
¶As my yong Mistris dogge.
¶Now my sicke Foole Rodorigo,
1165To Desdemona hath to night Carrows'd.
¶Potations, pottle-deepe; and he's to watch.
¶(That hold their Honours in a wary distance,
¶The very Elements of this Warrelike Isle)
1170Haue I to night fluster'd with flowing Cups,
¶And they Watch too.
¶Now 'mongst this Flocke of drunkards
¶That may offend the Isle. But here they come.
1175
Enter Cassio, Montano, and Gentlemen.
¶If Consequence do but approue my dreame,
¶My Boate sailes freely, both with winde and Streame.
1180Souldier.
¶Iago. Some Wine hoa.
¶And let me the Cannakin clinke, clinke:
¶And let me the Cannakin clinke.
1185Why then let a Souldier drinke.
¶Some Wine Boyes.
¶Cas. 'Fore Heauen: an excellent Song.
¶most potent in Potting. Your Dane, your Germaine,
1190and your swag-belly'd Hollander, (drinke hoa) are
¶nothing to your English.
¶king?
¶Iago. Why, he drinkes you with facillitie, your Dane
¶maine. He giues your Hollander a vomit, ere the next
¶Pottle can be fill'd.
¶Cas. To the health of our Generall.
¶King Stephen was and-a worthy Peere,
¶His Breeches cost him but a Crowne,
¶He held them Six pence all to deere,
¶With that he cal'd the Tailor Lowne:
1205He was a wight of high Renowne,
¶And thou art but of low degree:
¶'Tis Pride that pulls the Country downe,
¶And take thy awl'd Cloake about thee.
¶Some Wine hoa.
¶ther.
¶Iago. Will you heare't againe?
¶Cas. No: for I hold him to be vnworthy of his Place,
¶that do's those things. Well: heau'ns aboue all: and
¶not be saued.
¶Iago. It's true, good Lieutenant.
¶Cas. For mine owne part, no offence to the Generall,
¶nor any man of qualitie: I hope to be saued.
¶Cassio. I: (but by your leaue) not before me. The
¶Lieutenant is to be saued before the Ancient. Let's haue
¶no more of this: let's to our Affaires. Forgiue vs our
1225thinke Gentlemen, I am drunke: this is my Ancient, this
¶is my right hand, and this is my left. I am not drunke
¶Gent. Excellent well.
1230that I am drunke.
Exit.
¶Watch.
¶'Tis to his vertue, a iust Equinox,
¶The one as long as th'other. 'Tis pittie of him:
¶I feare the trust Othello puts him in,
¶On some odde time of his infirmitie
¶Mont. But is he often thus?
¶He'le watch the Horologe a double Set,
¶If Drinke rocke not his Cradle.
1245Mont. It were well
¶The Generall were put in mind of it:
¶Perhaps he sees it not, or his good nature
¶And lookes not on his euills: is not this true?
1250
Enter Rodorigo.
¶Iago. How now Rodorigo?
¶I pray you after the Lieutenant, go.
¶Mon. And 'tis great pitty, that the Noble Moore
¶Should hazard such a Place, as his owne Second
1255With one of an ingraft Infirmitie,
¶To the Moore.
1260To cure him of this euill, But hearke, what noise?
¶
Enter Cassio pursuing Rodorigo.
¶Mon. What's the matter Lieutenant?
¶Cas. A Knaue teach me my dutie? Ile beate the
1265Knaue into a Twiggen-Bottle.
¶Rod. Beate me?
¶Mon. Nay, good Lieutenant:
¶I pray you Sir, hold your hand.
1270Cassio. Let me go (Sir)
¶Or Ile knocke you o're the Mazard.
¶Mon. Come, come: you're drunke.
¶Cassio. Drunke?
1275Nay good Lieutenant. Alas Gentlemen:
¶Helpe hoa. Lieutenant. Sir Montano:
¶Helpe Masters. Heere's a goodly Watch indeed.
¶Who's that which rings the Bell: Diablo, hoa:
¶The Towne will rise. Fie, fie Lieutenant,
1280You'le be asham'd for euer.
¶
Enter Othello, and Attendants.
¶Othe. What is the matter heere?
¶Othe. Hold for your liues.
1285Iag. Hold hoa: Lieutenant, Sir Montano, Gentlemen:
¶Are we turn'd Turkes? and to our selues do that
1290Which Heauen hath forbid the Ottamittes.
¶He that stirs next, to carue for his owne rage,
¶Holds his soule light: He dies vpon his Motion.
¶Silence that dreadfull Bell, it frights the Isle,
1295From her propriety. What is the matter, Masters?
¶Honest Iago, that lookes dead with greeuing,
¶Speake: who began this? On thy loue I charge thee?
¶Iago. I do not know: Friends all, but now, euen now.
¶In Quarter, and in termes like Bride, and Groome
1300Deuesting them for Bed: and then, but now:
¶(As if some Planet had vnwitted men)
¶Swords out, and tilting one at others breastes,
¶Any begining to this peeuish oddes.
1305And would, in Action glorious, I had lost
¶Those legges, that brought me to a part of it.
¶Othe. How comes it (Michaell) you are thus forgot?
¶Othe. Worthy Montano, you were wont to be ciuill:
¶The world hath noted. And your name is great
¶That you vnlace your reputation thus,
¶And spend your rich opinion, for the name
1315Of a night-brawler? Giue me answer to it.
¶Mon. Worthy Othello, I am hurt to danger,
¶Your Officer Iago, can informe you,
¶Of all that I_do know, nor know I ought
¶Othe. Now by Heauen,
1325My blood begins my safer Guides to rule,
¶Or do but lift this Arme, the best of you
¶Shall sinke in my rebuke. Giue me to know
1330How this foule Rout began: Who set it on,
¶And he that is approu'd in this offence,
¶Though he had twinn'd with me, both at a birth,
¶Shall loose me. What in a Towne of warre,
¶Yet wilde, the peoples hearts brim-full of feare,
1335To Manage priuate, and domesticke Quarrell?
¶'Tis monstrous: Iago, who began't?
¶Mon. If partially Affin'd, or league in office,
1340Thou art no Souldier.
¶I had rather haue this tongue cut from my mouth,
1345Shall nothing wrong him. This it is Generall:
¶There comes a Fellow, crying out for helpe,
¶To execute vpon him. Sir, this Gentleman,
¶The Towne might fall in fright. He, (swift of foote)
¶Out-ran my purpose: and I return'd then rather
1355For that I heard the clinke, and fall of Swords,
¶I nere might say before. When I came backe
¶(For this was briefe) I found them close together
¶At blow, and thrust, euen as againe they were
1360When you your selfe did part them.
¶More of this matter cannot I report,
¶Othe. I know Iago
¶Thy honestie, and loue doth mince this matter,
¶But neuer more be Officer of mine.
¶
Enter Desdemona attended.
¶Looke if my gentle Loue be not rais'd vp:
¶Ile make thee an example.
1375Des. What is the matter (Deere?)
¶Othe. All's well, Sweeting:
¶Come away to bed. Sir for_your hurts,
¶Iago, looke with care about the Towne,
¶Come Desdemona, 'tis the Soldiers life,
Exit.
¶Iago. What are you hurt Lieutenant?
1385Iago. Marry Heauen forbid.
¶Cas. Reputation, Reputation, Reputation: Oh I haue
¶Iago, my Reputation.
¶more wayes to recouer the Generall againe. You are
1400him againe, and he's yours.
¶Wine, if thou hast no name to be knowne by, let vs call
¶thee Diuell.
¶Iago. What was he that you follow'd with your
¶Sword? What had he done to you?
1410Cas. I know not.
¶stinctly: a Quarrell, but nothing wherefore. Oh, that
¶Iago. Why? But you are now well enough: how
¶came you thus recouered?
¶Time, the Place, & the Condition of this Country stands
1425it is, mend it for your owne good.
¶me, I am a drunkard: had I as many mouthes as Hydra,
¶dient is a diuell.
¶Iago. Come, come: good wine, is a good famillar
¶Creature, if it be well vs'd: exclaime no more against it.
¶And good Lieutenant, I thinke, you thinke I loue
1435you.
¶Cassio. I haue well approued it, Sir. I drunke?
¶Iago. You, or any man liuing, may be drunke at a
¶time man. I tell you what you shall do: Our General's
1440for that he hath deuoted, and giuen vp himselfe to the
¶Contemplation, marke: and deuotement of her parts
¶tune her helpe to put you in your place againe. She is
¶you, and her husband, entreat her to splinter. And my
¶Fortunes against any lay worth naming, this cracke of
1455for me: I am desperate of my Fortunes if they check me.
¶Iago. You are in the right: good night Lieutenant, I
¶must to the Watch.
¶
Exit Cassio.
1460Iago. And what's he then,
¶That saies I play the Villaine?
¶Proball to thinking, and indeed the course
¶To win the Moore againe.
¶In any honest Suite. She's fram'd as fruitefull
¶As the free Elements. And then for her
¶To win the Moore, were to renownce his Baptisme,
1470All Seales, and Simbols of redeemed sin:
¶His Soule is so enfetter'd to her Loue,
¶Euen as her Appetite shall play the God,
¶With his weake Function. How am I then a Villaine,
¶Directly to his good? Diuinitie of hell,
¶As I do now. For whiles this honest Foole
1480Plies Desdemona, to repaire his Fortune,
¶Ile powre this pestilence into his eare:
1485She shall vndo her Credite with the Moore.
¶So will I turne her vertue into pitch,
¶How now Rodorigo?
1490
Enter Rodorigo.
¶Rodorigo. I do follow heere in the Chace, not
¶like a Hound that hunts, but one that filles vp the
¶turne againe to Venice.
¶Iago.How poore are they that haue not Patience?
¶What wound did euer heale but by degrees?
1500Thou know'st we worke by Wit, and not by Witchcraft
¶And Wit depends on dilatory time:
¶Though other things grow faire against the Sun,
¶Content thy selfe, a-while. Introth 'tis Morning;
¶Retire thee, go where thou art Billited:
1510Nay get thee gone.
Exit Roderigo.
¶Two things are to be done:
1515Soliciting his wife: I, that's the way:
Exit.
¶
Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.
¶
Enter Cassio, Musitians, and Clowne.
1520Something that's briefe: and bid, good_morrow General.
¶Mus. How Sir? how?
¶Clo. Oh, thereby hangs a tale.
¶Mus. Well Sir, we will not.
1535nerall do's not greatly care.
¶Clow. Then put vp your Pipes in your bagge, for Ile
¶away. Go, vanish into ayre, away.
Exit Mu.
¶I heare you.
¶Cassio. Prythee keepe vp thy Quillets, ther's a poore
¶peece of Gold for thee: if the Gentlewoman that attends
1545treats her a little fauour of Speech. Wilt thou do this?
¶seeme to notifie vnto her.
Exit Clo.
¶
Enter Iago.
¶In happy time, Iago.
1550Iago. You haue not bin a-bed then?
¶Cassio. Why no: the day had broke before we parted.
¶I haue made bold (Iago) to send in to your wife:
¶And Ile deuise a meane to draw the Moore
¶May be more free.
Exit
¶Cassio. I humbly thanke you for't. I neuer knew
1560A Florentine more kinde, and honest.
¶
Enter Æmilia.
¶The Generall and his wife are talking of it,
¶That he you hurt is of great Fame in Cyprus,
¶And needs no other Suitor, but his likings
1570To bring you in againe.
¶If you thinke fit, or that it may be done,
¶With Desdemon alone.
1575Æmil. Pray you come in:
¶Cassio. I am much bound to you.
¶
Scœna Secunda.
1580
Enter Othello, Iago, and Gentlemen.
¶And by him do my duties to the Senate:
¶That done, I will be walking on the Workes,
¶Repaire there to mee.
1585Iago. Well, my good Lord, Ile doo't.
¶
Scœna Tertia.
¶
Enter Desdemona, Cassio, and Æmilia.
¶All my abilities in thy behalfe.
¶Æmil. Good Madam do:
¶I warrant it greeues my Husband,
¶As if the cause were his.
¶But I will haue my Lord, and you againe
¶As friendly as you were.
¶Cassio. Bounteous Madam,
1600He's neuer any thing but your true Seruant.
¶Des. I know't: I thanke you: you do loue my Lord:
¶Then in a politique distance.
1605Cassio. I, but Lady,
1610My Generall will forget my Loue, and Seruice.
¶Des. Do not doubt that: before Æmilia here,
¶If I do vow a friendship, Ile performe it
1615Ile watch him tame, and talke him out of patience;
¶Ile intermingle euery thing he do's
¶For thy Solicitor shall rather dye,
1620Then giue thy cause away.
¶
Enter Othello, and Iago.
¶Æmil. Madam, heere comes my Lord.
¶Cassio. Madam, Ile take my leaue.
¶Vnfit for mine owne purposes.
¶Iago. Hah? I like not that.
1630Iago. Nothing my Lord; or if---I know not what.
¶Seeing your comming.
1635Oth. I do beleeue 'twas he.
¶Des. How now my Lord?
¶I haue bin talking with a Suitor heere,
¶Oth. Who is't you meane?
¶If I haue any grace, or power to moue you,
¶For if he be not one, that truly loues'_you,
¶That erres in Ignorance, and not in Cunning,
1645I haue no iudgement in an honest face.
¶I prythee call him backe.
¶Oth. Went he hence now?
¶That he hath left part of his greefe with mee
1650To suffer with him. Good Loue, call him backe.
¶Des. Shall't be to night, at Supper?
1655Oth. No, not to night.
¶Des. To morrow Dinner then?
¶I meete the Captaines at the Cittadell.
¶I prythee name the time, but let it not
¶Exceed three dayes. Infaith hee's penitent:
¶T'encurre a priuate checke. When shall he come?
¶Tell me Othello. I wonder in my Soule
¶What you would aske me, that I should deny,
1670That came a woing wirh you? and so many a time
¶Hath tane your part, to haue so much to do
¶To bring him in? Trust me, I could do much.
¶Oth. Prythee no more: Let him come when he will:
1675I will deny thee nothing.
¶Des. Why, this is not a Boone:
¶'Tis as I should entreate you weare your Gloues,
¶Or sue to you, to do a peculiar profit
¶Wherein I meane to touch your Loue indeed,
¶It shall be full of poize, and difficult waight,
¶And fearefull to be granted.
¶Oth. I will deny thee nothing.
1685Whereon, I do beseech thee, grant me this,
¶To leaue me but a little to my selfe.
¶Des. Shall I deny you? No: farewell my Lord.
¶Des. Æmilia come; be as your Fancies teach you:
1690What ere you be, I am obedient.
Exit.
¶Oth. Excellent wretch: Perdition catch my Soule
¶But I do loue thee: and when I loue thee not,
¶Chaos is come againe.
¶Iago. My Noble Lord.
¶When he woo'd my Lady, know of your loue?
¶Why dost thou aske?
¶No further harme.
¶Oth. Why of thy thought, Iago?
¶Iago. I did not thinke he had bin acquainted with hir.
¶Oth. O yes, and went betweene vs very oft.
1705Iago. Indeed?
¶Is he not honest?
1710Iago. My Lord, for ought I know.
¶Iago. Thinke, my Lord?
¶Oth. Thinke, my Lord? Alas, thou ecchos't me;
¶And when I told thee, he was of my Counsaile,
¶Some horrible Conceite. If thou do'st loue me,
¶Shew me thy thought.
¶Iago. My Lord, you know I loue you.
¶And for I know thou'rt full of Loue, and Honestie,
¶They're close dilations, working from the heart,
1740Oth. Nay, yet there's more in this?
¶I prythee speake to me, as to thy thinkings,
¶The worst of words.
¶Iago. Good my Lord pardon me,
1745Though I am bound to euery Acte of dutie,
¶I am not bound to that: All Slaues are free:
¶Vtter my Thoughts? Why say, they are vild, and falce?
¶As where's that Palace, whereinto foule things
1750Wherein vncleanly Apprehensions
¶With meditations lawfull?
1755A stranger to thy Thoughts.
1760Shapes faults that are not) that your wisedome
¶From one, that so imperfectly conceits,
¶Would take no notice, nor build your selfe a trouble
¶It were not for your quiet, nor your good,
¶To let you know my thoughts.
¶Iago. Good name in Man, & woman (deere my Lord)
¶Is the immediate Iewell of their Soules;
¶'Tis something, nothing;
¶But he that filches from me my good Name,
¶Robs me of that, which not enriches him,
1775And makes me poore indeed.
¶Oth. Ile know thy Thoughts.
¶Iago. You cannot, if my heart were in your hand,
¶Oth. Ha?
¶It is the greene-ey'd Monster, which doth mocke
¶Who certaine of_his Fate, loues not his wronger:
¶But oh, what damned minutes tels he ore,
¶Iago. Poore, and Content, is rich, and rich enough,
¶To him that euer feares he shall be poore:
1790Good Heauen, the Soules of all my Tribe defend
¶From Iealousie.
¶Oth. Why? why is this?
¶To follow still the changes of the Moone
¶Is to be resolu'd: Exchange me for a Goat,
¶Matching thy inference. 'Tis not to make me Iealious,
1800To say my wife is faire, feeds well, loues company,
¶Is free of Speech, Sings, Playes, and Dances:
¶Where Vertue is, these are more vertuous.
¶Nor from mine owne weake merites, will I draw
¶Ile see before I doubt; when I doubt, proue;
¶And on the proofe, there is no more but this,
¶Away at once with Loue, or Iealousie.
1810To shew the Loue and Duty that I beare you
¶With franker spirit. Therefore (as I am bound)
¶Receiue it from me. I speake not yet of proofe:
¶Weare your eyes, thus: not Iealious, nor Secure:
1815I would not haue your free, and Noble Nature,
¶Out of selfe-Bounty, be abus'd: Looke too't:
¶In Venice, they do let Heauen see the prankes
¶They dare not shew their Husbands.
¶Is not to leaue't vndone, but kept vnknowne.
¶Iago. She did deceiue her Father, marrying you,
1825She lou'd them most.
¶Iago. Why go too then:
1830He thought 'twas Witchcraft.
¶But I am much too blame:
¶I humbly do beseech you of your pardon
¶For too much louing you.
¶Oth. I am bound to thee for euer.
¶Oth. Not a iot, not a iot.
¶Comes from your Loue.
1840But I do see y'are moou'd:
¶Then to Suspition.
¶Oth. I will not.
¶Which my Thoughts aym'd not.
¶My Lord, I see y'are mou'd.
1850Oth. No, not much mou'd:
¶And long liue you to thinke so.
1855Iago. I, there's the point:
¶As (to be bold with you)
¶Not to affect many proposed Matches
¶Of her owne Clime, Complexion, and Degree,
¶Whereto we see in all things, Nature tends:
¶Foule disproportions, Thoughts vnnaturall.
¶But (pardon me) I do not in position
¶Her will, recoyling to her better iudgement,
1865May fal to match you with her Country formes,
¶And happily repent.
¶Oth. Farewell, farewell:
¶If more thou dost perceiue, let me know more:
¶Set on thy wife to obserue.
1870Leaue me Iago.
¶Iago. My Lord, I take my leaue.
¶Othel. Why did I marry?
¶Sees, and knowes more, much more then he vnfolds.
1875Iago. My Lord, I would I might intreat your Honor
¶To scan this thing no farther: Leaue it to time,
¶For sure he filles it vp with great Ability;
¶Yet if you please, to him off a-while:
1880You shall by that perceiue him, and his meanes:
¶Note if your Lady straine his Encertainment
¶With any strong, or vehement importunitie,
¶Much will be seene in that: In the meane time,
¶Let me be thought too busie in my feares,
1885(As worthy cause I haue to feare I am)
¶And hold her free, I do beseech your Honor.
¶Oth. Feare not my gouernment.
1890And knowes all Quantities with a learn'd Spirit
¶Of humane dealings. If I do proue her Haggard,
¶I'ld whistle her off, and let her downe the winde
¶To prey at Fortune. Haply, for I am blacke,
¶That Chamberers haue: Or for I am declin'd
¶Into the vale of yeares (yet that's not much)
¶Shee's gone. I am abus'd, and my releefe
1900That we can call these delicate Creatures ours,
¶And not their Appetites? I had rather be a Toad,
¶And liue vpon the vapour of a Dungeon,
¶Then keepe a corner in the thing I loue
¶For others vses. Yet 'tis the plague to Great-ones,
¶Euen then, this forked plague is Fated to vs,
¶When we do quicken. Looke where she comes:
¶
Enter Desdemona and Æmilia.
¶Ile not beleeue't.
¶Des. How now, my deere Othello?
¶Your dinner, and the generous Islanders
¶By you inuited, do attend your presence.
1915Oth. I am too blame.
¶Are you not well?
¶Oth. I haue a paine vpon my Forehead, heere.
¶Des. Why that's with watching, 'twill away againe.
1920Let me but binde it hard, within this houre
¶It will be well.
¶Oth. Your Napkin is too little:
¶Let it alone: Come, Ile go in with you.
Exit.
1925Æmil. I am glad I haue found this Napkin:
¶This was her first remembrance from the Moore,
¶My wayward Husband hath a hundred times
¶And giu't Iago: what he will do with it
¶Heauen knowes, not I:
1935
Enter Iago.
¶Iago. How now? What do you heere alone?
¶Æmil. Do not you chide: I haue a thing for you.
¶Iago. You haue a thing for me?
¶It is a common thing---
1940Æmil. Hah?
¶Æmil. Oh, is that all? What will you giue me now
¶For that same Handkerchiefe.
¶Iago. What Handkerchiefe?
1945Æmil. What Handkerchiefe?
1950And to th'aduantage, I being heere, took't vp:
¶Looke, heere 'tis.
¶Iago. A good wench, giue it me.
¶Æmil. What will you do with't, that you haue bene
1955Iago. Why, what is that to you?
¶Giu't me againe. Poore Lady, shee'l run mad
¶Iago. Be not acknowne on't:
¶And let him finde it. Trifles light as ayre,
¶Are to the iealious, confirmations strong,
¶As proofes of holy Writ. This may do something.
1965The Moore already changes with my poyson:
¶Dangerous conceites, are in their Natures poysons,
¶But with a little acte vpon the blood,
1970
Enter Othello.
¶Looke where he comes: Not Poppy, nor Mandragora,
¶Nor all the drowsie Syrrups of the world
¶Iago. Why how now Generall? No more of that.
¶I sweare 'tis better to be much abus'd,
¶Then but to know't a little.
1980Iago. How now, my Lord?
¶I saw't not, thought it not: it harm'd not me:
1985He that is robb'd, not wanting what is stolne,
¶Let him not know't, and he's not robb'd at all.
¶Oth. I had beene happy, if the generall Campe,
1990So I had nothing knowne. Oh now, for euer
¶Farewell the Tranquill minde; farewell Content;
¶Farewell the plumed Troopes, and the bigge Warres,
¶That makes Ambition, Vertue! Oh farewell;
¶Farewell the neighing Steed, and the shrill Trumpe,
1995The Spirit-stirring Drum, th'Eare-piercing Fife,
¶The Royall Banner, and all Qualitie,
¶Pride, Pompe, and Circumstance of glorious Warre:
¶Th'immortall Ioues dread Clamours, counterfet,
2000Farewell: Othello's Occupation's gone.
¶Be sure of it: Giue me the Occular proofe,
¶Or by the worth of mine eternall Soule,
2005Thou had'st bin better haue bin borne a Dog
¶Then answer my wak'd wrath.
¶Iago. Is't come to this?
¶That the probation beare no Hindge, nor Loope,
2010To hang a doubt on: Or woe vpon thy life.
¶Iago. My Noble Lord.
¶Neuer pray more: Abandon all remorse
¶On Horrors head, Horrors accumulate:
2015Do deeds to make Heauen weepe, all Earth amaz'd;
¶For nothing canst thou to damnation adde,
¶Greater then that.
¶Iago. O Grace! O Heauen forgiue me!
¶Are you a Man? Haue you a Soule? or Sense?
2020God buy you: take mine Office. Oh wretched Foole,
¶Oh monstrous world! Take note, take note (O World)
¶I thanke you for this profit, and from hence
¶And looses that it workes for.
¶Oth. By the World,
¶I thinke that thou art iust, and thinke thou art not:
¶As Dians Visage, is now begrim'd and blacke
¶As mine owne face. If there be Cords, or Kniues,
¶Ile not indure it. Would I were satisfied.
¶I do repent me, that I put it to you.
¶You would be satisfied?
2040Oth. Would? Nay, and I will.
¶Behold her top'd?
¶Oth. Death, and damnation. Oh!
2045Iago. It were a tedious difficulty, I thinke,
¶To bring them to that Prospect: Damne them then,
¶More then their owne. What then? How then?
¶Were they as prime as Goates, as hot as Monkeyes,
¶As Ignorance, made drunke. But yet, I say,
2055Which leade directly to the doore of Truth,
¶Will giue you satisfaction, you might haue't.
¶Iago. I do not like the Office.
¶And being troubled with a raging tooth,
¶I could not sleepe. There are a kinde of men,
¶Let vs be wary, let vs hide our Loues,
¶And then (Sir) would he gripe, and wring my hand:
¶That grew vpon my lippes, laid his Leg ore my Thigh,
¶That gaue thee to the Moore.
2075Iago. Nay, this was but his Dreame.
¶'Tis a shrew'd doubt, though it be but a Dreame.
¶Iago, And this may helpe to thicken other proofes,
¶That do demonstrate thinly.
2080Oth. Ile teare her all to peeces.
¶She may be honest yet: Tell me but this,
¶Spotted with Strawberries, in your wiues hand?
¶(I am sure it was your wiues) did I to day
¶Oth. If it be that.
2090Iago. If it be that, or any, it was hers.
¶One is too poore, too weake for my reuenge.
¶Now do I see 'tis true. Looke heere Iago,
2095All my fond loue thus do I blow to Heauen. 'Tis gone,
¶Arise blacke vengeance, from the hollow hell,
¶Yeeld vp (O Loue) thy Crowne, and hearted Throne
¶To tyrannous Hate. Swell bosome with thy fraught,
¶For 'tis of Aspickes tongues.
2100Iago. Yet be content.
¶Oth. Oh blood, blood, blood.
¶Oth. Neuer Iago. Like to the Ponticke Sea,
2105Neu'r keepes retyring ebbe, but keepes due on
¶To the Proponticke, and the Hellespont:
¶Euen so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace
¶Shall neu'r looke backe, neu'r ebbe to humble Loue,
¶Till that a capeable, and wide Reuenge
2110Swallow them vp. Now by yond Marble Heauen,
¶In the due reuerence of a Sacred vow,
¶I heere engage my words.
2115You Elements, that clip vs round about,
¶The execution of his wit, hands, heart,
¶To wrong'd Othello's Seruice. Let him command,
¶Oth. I greet thy loue,
¶Not with vaine thanks, but with acceptance bounteous,
¶And will vpon the instant put thee too't.
¶Iago. My Friend is dead:
¶'Tis done at your Request.
¶But let her liue.
¶Oth. Damne her lewde Minx:
2130O damne her, damne her.
¶Come go with me a-part, I will withdraw
¶For the faire Diuell.
¶Now art thou my Lieutenant.
¶
Scæna Quarta.
¶
Enter Desdemona, Æmilia, and Clown.
¶lyes?
¶Des. Why man?
¶'tis stabbing.
¶Des. Go too: where lodges he?
2145Clo. To tell you where he lodges, is to tel you where
¶I lye.
2150to lye in mine owne throat.
¶port?
¶Clo. I will Catechize the world for him, that is, make
2155Des. Seeke him, bidde him come hither: tell him, I
¶haue moou'd my Lord on his behalfe, and hope all will
¶be well.
¶and therefore I will attempt the doing it.
Exit Clo.
¶milia?
¶Æmil. I know not Madam.
¶Full of Cruzadoes. And but my Noble Moore
¶As iealious Creatures are, it were enough
¶To put him to ill-thinking.
¶Æmil. Is he not iealious?
¶Des. Who, he? I thinke the Sun where he was borne,
2170Drew all such humors from him.
¶Æmil. Looke where he comes.
¶
Enter Othello.
¶Call'd to him. How is't with you, my Lord?
¶How do you, Desdemona?
¶Des. Well, my good Lord.
¶Oth. Giue me your hand.
¶This hand is moist, my Lady.
¶Hot, hot, and moyst. This hand of yours requires
2185For heere's a yong, and sweating Diuell heere
¶That commonly rebels: 'Tis a good hand,
¶A franke one.
¶For 'twas that hand that gaue away my heart.
2190Oth. A liberall hand. The hearts of old, gaue hands:
¶But our new Heraldry is hands, not hearts.
¶Come, now your promise.
¶Lend me thy Handkerchiefe.
¶Des. Heere my Lord.
¶Oth. That which I gaue you.
2200Des. I haue it not about me.
¶Oth. Not?
¶Des. No indeed, my Lord.
¶Oth. That's a fault: That Handkerchiefe
¶Did an Ægyptian to my Mother giue:
2205She was a Charmer, and could almost read
¶The thoughts of people. She told her, while she kept it,
¶'T would make her Amiable, and subdue my Father
¶Or made a Guift of it, my Fathers eye
2210Should hold her loathed, and his Spirits should hunt
¶After new Fancies. She dying, gaue it me,
¶And bid me (when my Fate would haue me Wiu'd)
¶To giue it her. I did so; and take heede on't,
¶Make it a Darling, like your precious eye:
¶As nothing else could match.
¶Oth. 'Tis true: There's Magicke in the web of it:
¶A Sybill that had numbred in the world
¶In her Prophetticke furie sow'd the Worke:
¶The Wormes were hallowed, that did breede the Silke,
¶And it was dyde in Mummey, which the Skilfull
¶Conseru'd of Maidens hearts.
2225Des. Indeed? Is't true?
¶Oth. Ha? wherefore?
¶Oth. Say you?
¶Oth. How?
¶This is a tricke to put me from my suite,
2240Oth. Fetch me the Handkerchiefe,
¶My minde mis-giues.
¶ent man.
¶Oth. The Handkerchiefe.
2245Des. A man that all his time
¶Hath founded his good Fortunes on your loue;
¶Shar'd dangers with you.
¶Oth. The Handkerchiefe.
¶Æmil. Is not this man iealious?
¶Sure, there's some wonder in this Handkerchikfe,
¶They are all but Stomackes, and we all but Food,
¶They eate vs hungerly, and when they are full
¶They belch vs.
¶
Enter Iago, and Cassio.
¶you?
¶That by your vertuous meanes, I may againe
¶Exist, and be a member of his loue,
¶Whom I, with all the Office of my heart
¶Intirely honour, I would not be delayd.
2270If my offence, be of such mortall kinde,
¶Nor purpos'd merit in futurity,
¶Can ransome me into his loue againe,
2275So shall I cloath me in a forc'd content,
¶To Fortunes Almes.
¶My Aduocation is not now in Tune;
2280My Lord, is not my Lord; nor should I know him,
¶Were he in Fauour, as in Humour alter'd.
¶What I can do, I will: and more I will
¶Iago. Is my Lord angry?
¶Æmil. He went hence but now:
¶When it hath blowne his Rankes into the Ayre,
¶And like the Diuell from his very Arme
¶Puff't his owne Brother: And is he angry?
2295Something of moment then: I will go meet him,
¶There's matter in't indeed, if he be angry.
Exit
¶Made demonstrable heere in Cyprus, to him,
¶Mens Natures wrangle with inferiour things,
¶Though great ones are their obiect. 'Tis euen so.
¶For let our finger ake, and it endues
2305Of paine. Nay, we must thinke men are not Gods,
¶As fits the Bridall. Beshrew me much, Æmilia,
¶I was (vnhandsome Warrior, as I am)
¶And he's Indited falsely.
¶Æmil. Pray heauen it bee
¶State matters, as you thinke, and no Conception,
¶Nor no Iealious Toy, concerning you.
¶They are not euer iealious for the cause,
¶But iealious, for they're iealious. It is a Monster
¶Æmil. Lady, Amen.
¶If I doe finde him fit, Ile moue your suite,
Exit
¶
Enter Bianca.
¶Cassio. What make you from home?
¶How is't with you, my most faire Bianca?
¶What? keepe a weeke away? Seuen dayes, and Nights?
¶More tedious then the Diall, eight score times?
2335Oh weary reck'ning.
¶Cassio. Pardon me, Bianca:
¶I haue this while with leaden thoughts beene prest,
¶But I shall in a more continuate time
2340Take me this worke out.
¶This is some Token from a newer Friend,
¶Is't come to this? Well, well.
2345Cassio. Go too, woman:
¶From whence you haue them. You are iealious now,
¶No, in good troth Bianca.
2350Bian. Why, who's is it?
¶Cassio. I know not neither:
¶I found it in my Chamber,
¶I like the worke well; Ere it be demanded
¶(As like enough it will) I would haue it coppied:
2355Take it, and doo't, and leaue me for this time.
¶Bian. Leaue you? Wherefore?
¶Cassio. I do attend heere on the Generall,
¶And thinke it no addition nor my wish
¶To haue him see me woman'd.
2360Bian. Why, I ptay you?
¶Cassio. Not that I loue you not.
¶Bian. But that you do not loue me.
¶I pray you bring me on the way a little,
2365Cassio. 'Tis but a little way that I can bring you,
¶
Exeunt omnes.
¶
Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.
2370
Enter Othello, and Iago.
2375Iago. Or to be naked with her Friend in bed,
¶An houre, or more, not meaning any harme?
2380The Diuell their vertue tempts, and they tempt Heauen.
¶But if I giue my wife a Handkerchiefe.
¶Oth. What then?
¶Iago. Why then 'tis hers (my Lord) and being hers,
2385She may (I thinke) bestow't on any man.
¶May she giue that?
¶They haue it very oft, that haue it not.
2390But for the Handkerchiefe.
¶As doth the Rauen o're the infectious house:
¶Boading to all) he had my Handkerchiefe.
2395Iago. I: what of that?
¶Who hauing by their owne importunate suit,
¶But they must blab.)
2405No more then he'le vn-sweare.
¶Iago. Why, that he did: I know not what he did.
¶Othe. What? What?
¶Iago. Lye.
2410Oth. With her?
¶Iago. With her? On her: what you will.
¶when they be-lye-her. Lye with her: that's fullsome:
2420kerchiefe? O diuell.
Falls in a Traunce.
¶Iago. Worke on,
¶My Medicine workes. Thus credulous Fooles are caught,
¶And many worthy, and chast Dames euen thus,
2425My Lord, I say: Othello.
¶
Enter Cassio.
¶Cas. What's the matter?
¶Cas. Rub him about the Temples.
¶If not, he foames at mouth: and by and by
2435Do you withdraw your selfe a little while,
¶He will recouer straight: when he is gone,
¶How is it Generall? Haue you not hurt your head?
2440Iago. I mocke you not, by Heauen:
¶Would you would beare your Fortune like a Man.
¶And many a ciuill Monster.
¶Iago. Good Sir, be a man:
¶Thinke euery bearded fellow that's but yoak'd
¶May draw with you. There's Millions now aliue,
¶That nightly lye in those vnproper beds,
¶Oh, 'tis the spight of hell, the Fiends Arch-mock,
¶To lip a wanton in a secure Cowch;
¶Iago. Stand you a while apart,
¶Whil'st you were heere, o're-whelmed with your griefe
¶Bad him anon returne: and heere speake with me,
¶The which he promis'd. Do but encaue your selfe,
¶And marke the Fleeres, the Gybes, and notable Scornes
2465That dwell in euery Region of his face.
¶For I will make him tell the Tale anew;
¶Where, how, how oft, how long ago, and when
¶He hath, and is againe to cope your wife.
¶And nothing of a man.
¶I will be found most cunning in my Patience:
¶But yet keepe time in all: will you withdraw?
¶Buyes her selfe Bread, and Cloath. It is a Creature
¶To be-guile many, and be be-guil'd by one)
¶He, when he heares of her, cannot restraine
¶
Enter Cassio.
¶Quite in the wrong. How do you Lieutenant?
2490Whose want euen killes me.
¶Now, if this Suit lay in Bianca's dowre,
¶Cas. Alas poore Caitiffe.
2495Oth. Looke how he laughes already.
2500Oth. Now he importunes him
¶Do you intend it?
¶Cas. Ha, ha, ha.
2505Oth. Do ye triumph, Romaine? do you triumph?
¶Some Charitie to my wit, do not thinke it
¶So vnwholesome. Ha, ha, ha.
2510Iago. Why the cry goes, that you marry her.
¶Cas. This is the Monkeys owne giuing out:
2515She is perswaded I will marry her
¶Out of her owne loue & flattery, not out of my promise.
¶uery place. I was the other day talking on the Sea-
2520banke with certaine Venetians, and thither comes the
¶Bauble, and falls me thus about my neck.
¶ports it.
¶Cassio. So hangs, and lolls, and weepes vpon me:
2525So shakes, and pulls me. Ha, ha, ha.
¶shall throw it to.
¶
Enter Bianca.
¶What do you meane by this haunting of me?
¶Bian. Let the diuell, and his dam haunt you: what
2535did you meane by that same Handkerchiefe, you gaue
¶me euen now? I was a fine Foole to take it: I must take
¶out the worke? A likely piece of worke, that you should
¶finde it in your Chamber, and know not who left it there.
¶it, Ile take out no worke on't.
¶How now? How now?
¶you will not, come when you are next prepar'd for.
Exit
¶Iago. After her: after her.
¶ry faine speake with you.
¶Cas. Prythee come: will you?
¶Iago. Did you perceiue how he laugh'd at his vice?
¶Oth. Oh, Iago.
¶Oth. Was that mine?
¶hath giu'n it his whore.
¶Oth. I would haue him nine yeeres a killing:
¶A fine woman, a faire woman, a sweete woman?
2570perours side, and command him Taskes.
¶Iago. Nay, that's not your way.
2575teous wit, and inuention?
¶And then of so gentle a condition?
¶Iago. I too gentle.
2580Othe. Nay that's certaine:
¶But yet the pitty of it, Iago: oh Iago, the pitty of it
¶Iago.
¶pattent to offend, for if it touch not you, it comes neere
2585no body.
¶Iago. Oh, 'tis foule in her.
¶Oth. With mine Officer?
¶Iago. That's fouler.
¶uide my mind againe: this night Iago.
¶Euen the bed she hath contaminated.
2595Oth. Good, good:
¶You shall heare more by midnight.
¶
Enter Lodouico, Desdemona, and Attendants.
¶'Tis Lodouico, this, comes from the Duke.
¶See, your wife's with him.
¶Lodo. Saue you worthy Generall.
2605Othe. With all my heart Sir.
¶Lod. The Duke, and the Senators of Venice greet you.
¶Des. And what's the newes, good cozen Lodouico?
2610Welcome to Cyprus.
¶Iago. Liues Sir,
¶Des. Cozen, there's falne betweene him, & my Lord,
¶An vnkind breach: but you shall make all well.
¶Des. My Lord?
¶Othe. This faile you not to do, as you will---
2625Des. What is he angrie?
¶Lod. May be th Letter mou'd him.
¶For as I thinke, they do command him home,
¶Deputing Cassio in his Gouernment.
2630Othe. Indeed?
¶Des. My Lord?
¶Othe. Diuell.
¶Lod. My Lord, this would not be beleeu'd in Venice,
¶Make her amends: she weepes.
¶Othe. Oh diuell, diuell:
2640If that the Earth could teeme with womans teares,
¶Each drop she falls, would proue a Crocodile:
¶Out of my sight.
¶Lod. Truely obedient Lady:
¶Des. My Lord.
¶Othe. What would you with her, Sir?
¶Lod. Who I, my Lord?
¶Sir, she can turne, and turne: and yet go on
¶And turne againe. And she can weepe, Sir, weepe.
¶Very obedient: proceed you in your teares.
¶I am commanded home: get you away:
¶Ile send for you anon. Sir I obey the Mandate,
¶And will returne to Venice. Hence, auaunt:
2660I do entreat, that we may sup together.
¶You are welcome Sir to Cyprus.
¶Goates, and Monkeys.
Exit.
¶Lod. Is this the Noble Moore, whom our full Senate
¶Call all in all sufficient? Is this the Nature
¶The shot of Accident, nor dart of Chance
¶Could neither graze, nor pierce?
¶Iago. He is much chang'd.
¶What he might be: if what he might, he is not,
¶I would to heauen he were.
¶Lod. What? Strike his wife?
¶Or did the Letters, worke vpon his blood,
¶And new create his fault?
¶Iago. Alas, alas:
¶And marke how he continues.
¶
Scena Secunda.
¶
Enter Othello, and Æmilia.
¶Each syllable that breath made vp betweene them.
¶Æmil. Neuer my Lord.
¶Æmil. Neuer.
¶Lay downe my Soule at stake: If you thinke other,
¶If any wretch haue put this in your head,
¶Let Heauen requit it with the Serpents curse,
¶There's no man happy. The purest of their Wiues
¶Is foule as Slander.
¶
Enter Desdemona, and Æmilia.
¶Des. My Lord, what is your will?
2715Othe. Pray you Chucke come hither.
¶Des. What horrible Fancie's this?
2720Leaue Procreants alone, and shut the doore:
¶Cough, or cry hem; if any body_come:
Exit Æmi.
¶I vnderstand a Fury in your words.
2725Othe. Why? What art thou?
¶Des. Your wife my Lord: your true and loyall wife.
¶feare to ceaze thee. Therefore be double damn'd: sweare
2730thou art honest.
¶Des. Heauen doth truely know it.
¶Des. To whom my Lord?
¶With whom? How am I false?
¶Des. Alas the heauy day: why do you weepe?
¶Am I the motiue of these teares my Lord?
¶An Instrument of this your calling backe,
2740Lay not your blame on me: if you haue lost him,
¶I haue lost him too.
¶Othe. Had it pleas'd Heauen,
¶To try me with Affliction, had they rain'd
¶All kind of Sores, and Shames on my bare-head:
2745Steep'd me in pouertie to the very lippes.
¶Giuen to Captiuitie, me, and my vtmost hopes,
¶A drop of patience. But alas, to make me
¶The fixed Figure for the time of Scorne,
2750To point his slow, and mouing finger at.
¶Yet could I beare that too, well, very well:
¶But there where I haue garnerd vp my heart,
¶Where either I must liue, or beare no life,
¶The Fountaine from the which my currant runnes,
¶Or keepe it as a Cesterne, for foule Toades
¶To knot and gender in. Turne thy complexion there:
¶Patience, thou young and Rose-lip'd Cherubin,
¶I heere looke grim as hell.
¶Othe. Oh I, as Sommer Flyes are in the Shambles,
¶That quicken euen with blowing. Oh thou weed:
¶That the Sense akes at thee,
2765Would thou had'st neuer bin borne.
¶Made to write Whore vpon? What commited,
¶Committed? Oh, thou publicke Commoner,
2770I should make very Forges of my cheekes,
¶That would to Cynders burne vp Modestie,
¶Did I but speake thy deedes. What commited?
2775Is hush'd within the hollow Myne of Earth
¶And will not hear't. What commited?
¶Des. By Heauen you do me wrong.
¶Othe. Are not you a Strumpet?
¶From any other foule vnlawfull touch
¶Be not to be a Strumpet, I am none.
¶Othe. What, not a Whore?
¶Des. Oh Heauen forgiue vs.
¶Othe. I cry you mercy then.
¶I tooke you for that cunning Whore of Venice,
¶That married with Othello. You Mistris,
2790
Enter Æmilia.
¶That haue the office opposite to Saint Peter,
¶And keepes the gate of hell. You, you: I you.
¶We haue done our course: there's money for your paines:
¶I pray you turne the key, and keepe our counsaile.
Exit.
2795Æmil. Alas, what do's this Gentleman conceiue?
¶How do you Madam? how do you my good Lady?
¶Æmi. Good Madam,
¶What's the matter with my Lord?
2800Des. With who?
¶Æmil. Why, with my Lord, Madam?
¶Des. Who is thy Lord?
¶Des. I haue none: do not talke to me, Æmilia,
2805I cannot weepe: nor answeres haue I none,
¶But what should go by water. Prythee to night,
¶Lay on my bed my wedding sheetes, remember,
¶And call thy husband hither.
¶How haue I bin behau'd, that he might sticke
¶
Enter Iago, and Æmilia.
2815How is't with you?
¶Do it with gentle meanes, and easie taskes.
¶He might haue chid me so: for in good faith
¶I am a Child to chiding.
2820Iago. What is the matter Lady?
¶That true hearts cannot beare it.
¶Des. Am I that name, Iago?
2825Iago. What namewe (faire Lady?)
¶Æmil. He call'd her whore: a Begger in his drinke:
¶Could not haue laid such termes vpon his Callet.
¶Iago. Do not weepe, do not weepe: alas the day.
¶Her Father? And her Country? And her Friends?
¶To be call'd Whore? Would it not make one weepe?
2835Des. It is my wretched Fortune.
¶How comes this Tricke vpon him?
¶Des. Nay, Heauen doth know.
¶Some cogging, cozening Slaue, to get some Office,
¶Haue not deuis'd this Slander: I will be hang'd else.
2845Æmil. A halter pardon him:
¶And hell gnaw his bones.
¶Why should he call her Whore?
¶Who keepes her companie?
¶What Place? What Time?
2850What Forme? What liklyhood?
¶And put in euery honest hand a whip
¶Iago. Speake within doore.
¶Iago. You are a Foole: go too.
¶Des. Alas Iago,
¶What shall I do to win my Lord againe?
¶Good Friend, go to him: for by this light of_Heauen,
2865I know not how I lost him. Heere I kneele:
¶Or that mine Eyes, mine Eares, or any Sence
2870Or that I do not yet, and euer did,
¶And euer will, (though he do shake me off
¶To beggerly diuorcement) Loue him deerely,
2875But neuer taynt my Loue. I cannot say Whore,
¶It do's abhorre me now I speake the word,
¶To do the Act, that might the addition earne,
¶Iago. I pray you be content: 'tis but his humour:
¶Des. If 'twere no other.
2885Go in, and weepe not: all things shall be well.
¶
Exeunt Desdemona and Æmilia.
¶
Enter Rodorigo.
¶How now Rodorigo?
¶Rod. I do not finde
¶Iago. What in the contrarie?
2895uantage of hope: I will indeed no longer endure it. Nor
¶am I yet perswaded to put vp in peace, what already I
¶Iago. Will you heare me Rodorigo?
¶Rodori. I haue heard too much: and your words and
2900Performances are no kin together.
¶selfe out of my meanes. The Iewels you haue had from
¶me to deliuer Desdemona, would halfe haue corrupted a
¶and return'd me expectations and comforts of sodaine
¶respect, and acquaintance, but I finde none.
¶Iago. Well, go too: very well.
¶Rod. Very well, go too: I cannot go too, (man) nor
2910tis not very well. Nay I think it is scuruy: and begin to
¶finde my selfe fopt in it.
¶Iago. Very well.
¶Rodor. I tell you, 'tis not very well: I will make my
2915Iewels, I will giue ouer my Suit, and repent my vnlaw-
¶satisfaction of you.
2920ment of doing.
¶pinion then euer before: giue me thy hand Rodorigo.
¶Affaire.
¶Rod. It hath not appeer'd.
¶Iago. I grant indeed it hath not appeer'd: and
2930But Rodorigo, if thou hast that in thee indeed, which
¶I haue greater reason to beleeue now then euer (I
¶meane purpose, Courage, and Valour) this night
¶shew it. If thou the next night following enioy not
2935rie, and deuise Engines for my life.
¶returne againe to Venice.
¶Iago. Oh no: he goes into Mauritania and taketh
2945in none can be so determinate, as the remouing of
¶Rod. How do you meane remouing him?
¶Iago. Why, by making him vncapable of Othello's
¶place: knocking out his braines.
2950Rod. And that you would haue me to do.
¶right. He sups to night with a Harlotry: and thither
¶will I go to him. He knowes not yet of his Honourable
¶Fortune, if you will watch his going thence (which
2955I will fashion to fall out betweene twelue and one)
¶you may take him at your pleasure. I will be neere
¶vs. Come, stand not amaz'd at it, but go along with
¶About it.
2965
Scena Tertia.
¶
Enter Othello, Lodouico, Desdemona, Æmilia,
¶and Atendants.
¶Oth. Oh pardon me: 'twill do me good to walke.
2970Lodoui. Madam, good night: I humbly thanke your
¶Ladyship.
¶Des. My Lord.
¶be done.
Exit.
¶Des. I will my Lord.
¶Æm. How goes it now? He lookes gentler then he did.
¶And hath commanded me to go to bed,
¶Des. It was his bidding: therefore good Æmilia,
2985Giue me my nightly wearing, and adieu.
2990(Prythee vn-pin me) haue grace and fauour.
¶If I do die before, prythee shrow'd me
2995Æmil. Come, come: you talke.
¶Des. My Mother had a Maid call'd Barbarie,
¶She was in loue: and he she lou'd prou'd mad,
¶And did forsake her. She had a Song of Willough,
¶An old thing 'twas: but it express'd her Fortune,
¶Will not go from my mind: I haue much to do,
¶But to go hang my head all at one side
¶Æmi. Shall I go fetch your Night-gowne?
3005Des. No, vn-pin me here,
¶This Lodouico is a proper man.
¶Æmil. I know a Lady in Venice would haue walk'd
3010barefoot to Palestine for a touch of his nether lip.
¶Sing all a greene Willough:
¶Her hand on her bosome her head on her knee,
¶Sing Willough, Willough, Wtllough.
3015The fresh Streames ran by her, and murmur'd her moanes
¶Sing Willough, &c.
¶Sing Willough, &c.
(Lay by these)
¶ Willough, Willough. (Prythee high thee: he'le come anon)
3020Sing all a greene Willough must be my Garland.
¶Let no body blame him, his scorne I approue.
¶(Nay that's not next. Harke, who is't that knocks?
¶Æmil. It's the wind.
3025Sing Willough, &c.
¶If I court mo women, you'le couch with mo men.
¶So get thee gone, good night: mine eyes do itch:
¶Doth that boade weeping?
¶Æmil, 'Tis neyther heere, nor there.
¶That there be women do abuse their husbands
¶Æmil. Why, would not you?
¶Des. No, by this Heauenly light.
¶Æmil. Nor I neither, by this Heauenly light:
¶I might doo't as well i'th'darke.
¶Æmil. The world's a huge thing:
¶It is a great price, for a small vice.
3045I had done. Marry, I would not doe such a thing for a
¶ioynt Ring, nor for measures of Lawne, nor for Gownes,
¶Petticoats, nor Caps, nor any petty exhibition. But for
¶all the whole world: why, who would not make her hus-
3050ture Purgatory for't.
¶For the whole world.
¶Æmil. Why, the wrong is but a wrong i'th'world;
¶and hauing the world for your labour, 'tis a wrong in
3055your owne world, and you might quickly make it right.
¶Æmil. Yes, a dozen: and as many to'th'vantage, as
¶would store the world they plaid for.
¶But I do thinke it is their Husbands faults
3060If Wiues do fall: (Say, that they slacke their duties,
¶And powre our Treasures into forraigne laps;
3065Why we haue galles: and though we haue some Grace,
¶Yet haue we some Reuenge. Let Husbands know,
¶As Husbands haue. What is it that they do,
3070When they change vs for others? Is it Sport?
¶I thinke it is: and doth Affection breed it?
¶I thinke it doth. Is't Frailty that thus erres?
¶It is so too. And haue not we Affections?
¶Desires for Sport? and Frailty, as men haue?
¶Des. Good night, good night:
¶Not to picke bad, from bad; but by bad, mend.
Exeunt
3080
Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.
¶
Enter Iago, and Rodorigo.
¶Straight will he come:
¶Weare thy good Rapier bare, and put it home:
3085Quicke, quicke, feare nothing; Ile be at thy Elbow,
¶It makes vs, or it marres vs, thinke on that,
3090Rod. I haue no great deuotion to the deed,
¶'Tis but a man gone. Forth my Sword: he dies.
¶Euery way makes my gaine. Liue Rodorigo,
¶He calles me to a restitution large
¶Of Gold, and Iewels, that I bob'd from him,
¶As Guifts to Desdemona.
¶He hath a dayly beauty in his life,
¶That makes me vgly: and besides, the Moore
¶May vnfold me to him: there stand I in much perill:
3105
Enter Cassio.
¶But that my Coate is better then thou know'st:
¶I will make proofe of thine.
¶Cassio. I am maym'd for euer:
¶Helpe hoa: Murther, murther.
¶
Enter Othello.
3115Rod. O Villaine that I am.
¶Cas. Oh helpe hoa: Light, a Surgeon.
3120Thou teachest me. Minion, your deere lyes dead,
¶And your vnblest Fate highes: Strumpet I come:
¶For of my heart, those Charmes thine Eyes, are blotted.
¶
Exit Othello.
3125
Enter Lodouico and Gratiano.
¶Murther, Murther.
¶Cas. Oh helpe.
3130Lodo. Hearke.
¶Rod. Oh wretched Villaine.
¶Lod. Two or three groane. 'Tis heauy night;
¶To come into the cry, without more helpe.
¶
Enter Iago.
¶Lod. Hearke.
¶Weapons.
3140Iago. Who's there?
¶Who's noyse is this that cries on murther?
¶Lodo. We do not know.
¶Iago. Do not you heare a cry?
3145Iago. What's the matter?
¶Gra. This is Othello's Ancient, as I take it.
¶Iago. O mee, Lieutenant!
¶What Villaines haue done this?
¶Cas. I thinke that one of them is heereabout.
¶And cannot make away.
3155Iago. Oh treacherous Villaines:
¶What are you there? Come in, and giue some helpe.
¶Rod. O helpe me there.
¶Cassio. That's one of them.
¶Iago. Oh murd'rous Slaue! O Villaine!
3160Rod. O damn'd Iago! O inhumane Dogge!
¶Iago. Kill men i'th'darke?
¶Where be these bloody Theeues?
¶How silent is this Towne? Hoa, murther, murther.
¶What may you be? Are you of good, or euill?
¶Iago. Signior Lodouico?
¶Lod. He Sir.
3170Iago. How is't Brother?
¶Cas. My Legge is cut in two.
¶Iago. Marry heauen forbid:
¶Light Gentlemen, Ile binde it with my shirt.
¶
Enter Bianca.
3175Bian. What is the matter hoa? Who is't that cry'd?
¶Iago. Who is't that cry'd?
3180Who they should be, that haue thus mangled you?
¶Cas. No.
¶I haue beene to seeke you.
¶Iago. Lend me a Garter. So: ---Oh for a Chaire
3185To beare him easily hence.
¶To be a party in this Iniurie.
3190Lend me a Light: know we this face, or no?
¶Alas my Friend, and my deere Countryman
¶Rodorigo? No: Yes sure: Yes, 'tis Rodorigo.
¶Gra. What, of Venice?
¶Iago. Euen he Sir: Did you know him?
3195Gra. Know him? I.
¶Iago. Signior Gratiano? I cry your gentle pardon:
¶That so neglected you.
¶Gra. Rodorigo?
¶Iago. He, he, 'tis he:
¶Oh that's well said, the Chaire.
¶Some good man beare him carefully from hence,
3205Ile fetch the Generall's Surgeon. For you Mistris,
¶Was my deere friend. What malice was between you?
¶Cas. None in the world: nor do I know the man?
3210Stay you good Gentlemen. Looke you pale, Mistris?
¶Behold her well: I pray you looke vpon her:
3215Though tongues were out of vse.
¶Æmil. Alas, what is the matter?
¶What is the matter, Husband?
¶By Rodorigo, and Fellowes that are scap'd:
¶Iago. This is the fruits of whoring. Prythe Æmilia,
¶What, do you shake at that?
¶Æmil. Oh fie vpon thee Strumpet.
¶As you that thus abuse me.
3230Æmil. As I? Fie vpon thee.
¶Iago. Kinde Gentlemen:
¶Æmilia, run you to the Cittadell,
3235And tell my Lord and Lady, what hath happ'd:
¶Will you go on afore? This is the night
¶That either makes me, or foredoes me quight.
Exeunt
¶
Scœna Secunda.
¶
Enter Othello, and Desdemona in her bed.
¶Let me not name it to you, you chaste Starres,
¶Put out the Light, and then put out the Light:
¶If I quench thee, thou flaming Minister,
¶I can againe thy former light restore,
¶Should I repent me. But once put out thy Light,
3250Thou cunning'st Patterne of excelling Nature,
¶I know not where is that Promethæan heate
¶That can thy Light re-Lume.
¶When I haue pluck'd thy Rose,
¶I cannot giue it vitall growth againe,
¶Iustice to breake her Sword. One more, one more:
¶Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee,
¶And loue thee after. One more, and that's the last.
¶But they are cruell Teares: This sorrow's heauenly,
¶Des. Who's there? Othello?
3265Des. Will you come to bed, my Lord?
¶Des. I my Lord.
¶Vnreconcil'd as yet to Heauen, and Grace,
3270Solicite for it straight.
¶Des. Alacke, my Lord,
¶What may you meane by that?
¶Oth. Well, do it, and be breefe, I will walke by:
¶I would not kill thy vnprepared Spirit,
3275No, Heauens fore-fend) I would not kill thy Soule.
¶Des. Talke you of killing?
¶Oth. I, I do.
¶Des. Then Heauen haue mercy on mee.
¶Oth. Amen, with all my heart.
¶Oth. Humh.
¶Des. And yet I feare you: for you're fatall then
¶When your eyes rowle so.
¶Why I should feare, I know not,
¶Des. They are Loues I beare to you.
¶Des. That death's vnnaturall, that kils for louing.
3290Alas, why gnaw you so your nether-lip?
¶These are portents: but yet I hope, I hope,
¶They do not point on me.
¶Oth. That Handkerchiefe
¶And aske him.
3300Oth. Sweet Soule, take heed, take heed of Periury,
¶Thou art on thy death-bed.
¶Des. I, but not yet to dye.
3305For to deny each Article with Oath,
¶Cannot remoue, nor choake the strong Conception
¶That I do grone withall. Thou art to dye.
¶Des. O Heauen haue mercy on me.
3310Des. And haue you mercy too. I neuer did
¶But with such generall warrantie of Heauen,
¶As I might loue. I neuer gaue him Token.
¶And makes me call, what I intend to do,
¶A Murther, which I thought a Sacrifice.
¶I saw the Handkerchiefe.
¶Des. He found it then:
3320I neuer gaue it him: Send, for him hither:
¶Des. What, my Lord?
¶Oth. That he hath vs'd thee.
3325Des. How? vnlawfully?
¶Oth. I.
¶Honest Iago hath 'tane order for't.
3330Des. Oh, my feare interprets. What is he dead?
¶Oth. Had all his haires bin liues, my great Reuenge
¶Had stomacke for them all.
¶Des. Alas, he is betray'd, and I vndone.
¶Oth. Downe Strumpet.
¶Des. Kill me to morrow, let me liue to night.
¶Des. But halfe an houre.
¶
Æmilia at the doore.
¶Æmil My Lord, my Lord? What hoa?
3345My Lord, my Lord.
¶I that am cruell, am yet mercifull,
¶I would not haue thee linger in thy paine?
¶So, so.
¶Oth. Who's there?
¶with you.
¶Oth. Yes: 'Tis Æmilia: by and by. Shee's dead.
¶The noise was high. Hah, no more moouing?
¶Still as the Graue. Shall she come in? Wer't good?
3360My wife, my wife: what wife? I haue no wife.
¶Oh insupportable! Oh heauy houre!
¶Of Sunne, and Moone; and that th'affrighted Globe
¶Did yawne at Alteration.
¶That I may speake with you. Oh good my Lord.
¶Oth. I had forgot thee: oh come in Æmilia.
¶Soft, by and by, let me the Curtaines draw.
¶Where art thou? What's the matter with thee now?
3370
Enter Æmilia.
¶Æmil. Oh my good Lord, yonders foule Murthers
¶done.
¶Oth. What? now?
¶Æmil. But now, my Lord.
¶She comes more neerer Earth then she was wont,
¶And makes men mad.
¶A young Venetian, call'd Rodorigo.
3385Æmil. Alas! what cry is that?
¶Oth. That? What?
¶Æmil. Out, and alas, that was my Ladies voice.
¶Æmil. Oh who hath done this deed?
¶Commend me to my kinde Lord: oh farewell.
3395Æmil. Alas: who knowes?
¶Oth. She's like a Liar gone to burning hell,
¶'Twas I that kill'd her.
¶er Diuell.
¶O, I were damn'd beneath all depth in hell:
¶But that I did proceed vpon iust grounds
3410To this extremity. Thy Husband knew it all.
¶Æmil. My Husband?
¶Oth. Thy Husband.
3415If Heauen would make me such another world,
¶Of one entyre and perfect Chrysolite,
¶I'ld not haue sold her for it.
¶Æmil. My Husband?
¶That stickes on filthy deeds.
¶Æmil. My Husband?
¶Oth. What needs this itterance, Woman?
¶I say, thy Husband.
¶Villany hath made mockes with loue:
¶Oth. He, Woman;
¶Rot halfe a graine a day: he lyes to'th'heart,
¶She was too fond of her most filthy Bargaine.
¶Oth. Hah?
¶This deede of thine is no more worthy Heauen,
¶Then thou was't worthy her.
3440As I haue to be hurt. Oh Gull, oh dolt,
¶As ignorant as durt: thou hast done a deed
¶(I care not for thy Sword) Ile make thee known,
¶Though I lost twenty liues. Helpe, helpe, hoa, helpe:
¶The Moore hath kill'd my Mistris. Murther, murther.
3445
Enter Montano, Gratiano, and Iago.
¶Mon. What is the matter? How now Generall?
¶Æmil. Oh, are you come, Iago: you haue done well,
¶That men must lay their Murthers on your necke.
¶Gra. What is the matter?
¶Speake, for my heart is full.
¶Iago. I told him what I thought,
3455And told no more
¶Then what he found himselfe was apt, and true.
¶Æmil. But did you euer tell him,
¶She was false?
¶Iago. I did.
3460Æmil. You told a Lye an odious damned Lye:
¶Vpon my Soule, a Lye; a wicked Lye.
3465Go too, charme your tongue.
¶Emil. I will not charme my Tongue;
¶I am bound to speake,
¶My Mistris heere lyes murthered in her bed.
¶All. Oh Heauens, forefend.
¶It is true indeede.
3475Emil. Villany, villany, villany:
¶I thinke vpon't, I thinke: I smel't: O Villany:
¶O villany! villany!
¶Iago. What, are you mad?
3480I charge you get you home.
¶'Tis proper I obey him; but not now:
¶Perchance Iago, I will ne're go home.
¶Oth. Oh, oh, oh.
3485Emil. Nay; lay thee downe, and roare:
¶That ere did lift vp eye.
¶I know this acte shewes horrible and grim.
¶I am glad thy Father's dead,
¶Thy Match was mortall to him: and pure greefe
3495Shore his old thred in twaine. Did he liue now,
¶And fall to Reprobance.
¶Oth. 'Tis pittifull: but yet Iago knowes
¶And she did gratifie his amorous workes
¶With that Recognizance and pledge of Loue
3505It was a Handkerchiefe, an Antique Token
¶My Father gaue my Mother.
¶Emil. Oh Heauen! oh
heauenly Powres!
¶Iago. Come, hold your peace.
¶Emil. 'Twill out, 'twill out. I peace?
3510No, I will speake as liberall as the North;
¶Let Heauen, and Men, and Diuels, let them all,
¶Emil. I will not.
3515Gra. Fye, your Sword vpon a Woman.
¶Emil. Oh thou dull Moore,
¶I found by Fortune, and did giue my Husband:
3520(More then indeed belong'd to such a Trifle)
¶He begg'd of me, to steale't.
¶Iago. Villanous Whore.
¶And I did giu't my Husband.
¶Emil. By Heauen I do not, I do not Gentlemen:
¶Do with so good a wife?
3530But what serues for the Thunder?
¶Precious Villaine.
¶Gra. The woman falles:
¶Sure he hath kill'd his Wife.
3535Gra. Hee's gone, but his wife's kill'd.
¶Mon. 'Tis a notorious Villain: take you this weapon
¶Which I haue recouer'd from the Moore:
¶But kill him rather. Ile after that same villaine,
3540For 'tis a damned Slaue.
Exit.
¶Oth. I am not valiant neither:
¶But euery Punie whipster gets my Sword.
¶Let it go all.
3545Æmil. What did thy Song boad Lady?
¶Hearke, canst thou heare me? I will play the Swan,
¶And dye in Musicke: Willough, Willough, Willough.
3550So speaking as I thinke, alas, I dye.
¶Oth. I haue another weapon in this Chamber,
¶It was a Sword of Spaine, the Ice brookes temper:
¶Oh heere it is: Vnkle I must come forth.
¶Gra. What is the matter?
¶Othel. Behold, I haue a weapon:
¶Vpon a Soldiers Thigh. I haue seene the day,
¶That with this little Arme, and this good Sword,
¶I haue made my way through more impediments
3565Who can controll his Fate? 'Tis not so now.
¶Be not affraid, though you do see me weapon'd:
¶Heere is my iournies end, heere is my butt
¶And verie Sea-marke of my vtmost Saile.
¶And he retires. Where should Othello go?
¶Now: how dost thou looke now? Oh ill-Starr'd wench,
¶Pale as thy Smocke: when we shall meete at compt,
¶This looke of thine will hurle my Soule from Heauen,
3575And Fiends will snatch at it. Cold, cold, my Girle?
¶Whip me ye Diuels,
¶Blow me about in windes, roast me in Sulphure,
¶
Enter Lodouico, Cassio, Montano, and Iago,
¶with Officers.
3585Oth. That's he that was Othello: heere I am.
¶Lod. Where is that Viper?
¶Bring the Villaine forth.
¶Oth. I look down towards his feet; but that's a Fable,
¶If that thou bee'st a Diuell, I cannot kill thee.
3590Lod. Wrench his Sword from him.
¶Iago. I bleed Sir, but not kill'd.
¶Oth. Why any thing:
¶An honourable Murderer, if you will:
¶For nought I did in hate, but all in Honour.
¶Oth. I.
¶Oth. I do beleeue it, and I aske your pardon:
3605Will you, I pray, demand that demy-Diuell,
¶Why he hath thus ensnar'd my Soule and Body.
¶Iag. Demand me nothing: what you know, you know:
¶From this time forth, I neuer will speake word.
¶Lod. What? not to pray?
3610Gra. Torments will ope your lips.
¶Lod. Sir,
¶(Which, as I thinke, you know not) heere is a Letter
3615Found in the pocket of the slaine Rodorigo,
¶And heere another, the one of them imports
¶By Rodorigo.
¶Oth. O Villaine!
¶Found in his pocket too: and this it seemes
¶Rodorigo meant t'haue sent this damned villaine:
¶But that (belike) Iago in the interim
3625Came in, and satisfi'd him.
¶Oth. Oh thou pernitious Caitiffe;
¶That was my wiues?
¶Cassio. I found it in my Chamber:
¶Which wrought to his desire.
¶Othel. O Foole, foole, foole!
3635How he vpbraides Iago, that he made him
¶Braue me vpon the Watch: whereon it came
¶(After long seeming dead) Iago hurt him,
¶Iago set him on.
¶Your Power, and your Command is taken off,
¶If there be any cunning Crueltie,
¶That can torment him much, and hold him long,
¶Till that the Nature of your fault be knowne
¶To the Venetian State. Come, bring away.
¶Oth. Soft you; a word or two before you goe:
3650No more of that. I pray you in your Letters,
¶Speake of me, as I am. Nothing extenuate,
¶Nor set downe ought in malice.
3655Of one that lou'd not wisely, but too well:
¶Of one, not easily Iealious, but being wrought,
¶Perplexed in the extreame: Of one, whose hand
¶(Like the base Iudean) threw a Pearle away
3660Albeit vn-vsed to the melting moode,
¶Drops teares as fast as the Arabian Trees
¶Their Medicinable gumme. Set you downe this:
¶Where a malignant, and a Turbond-Turke
3665Beate a Venetian, and traduc'd the State,
¶I tooke by th'throat the circumcised Dogge,
¶And smoate him, thus.
¶Lod. Oh bloody period.
Dyes
¶Cas. This did I feare, but thought he had no weapon:
¶For he was great of heart.
¶Lod. Oh Sparton Dogge:
3675More fell then Anguish, Hunger, or the Sea:
¶Looke on the Tragicke Loading of this bed:
¶This is thy worke:
¶The Obiect poysons Sight,
¶Let it be hid. Gratiano, keepe the house,
3680And seize vpon the Fortunes of the Moore,
¶For they succeede on you. To you, Lord Gouernor,
¶The Time, the Place, the Torture, oh inforce it:
3685This heauie Act, with heauie heart relate.
Exeunt.
¶
FINIS.
The Names of the Actors.
(:* * *:)
OThello, the Moore.
Brabantio, Father to Desdemona.Cassio, an Honourable Lieutenant.
Iago, a Villaine.
Rodorigo, a gull'd Gentleman.
Duke of Venice.
Senators.
Montano, Gouernour of Cyprus.
Gentlemen of Cyprus.
Lodouico, and Gratiano, two Noble Venetians.
Saylors.
Clowne.
Desdemona, Wife to Othello.
Æmilia, Wife to Iago.
Bianca, a Curtezan.
