OTHELLO, THE MOOR OF VENICE. PREFACE TO OTHELLO. THIS tragedy is justly considered as one of the That adultery is a crime which is deservedly noblest efforts of dramatic genius that has appeared placed next to murder, will be allowed, not only by in any age or in any language; but the subject is the Christian, but by every being whose mind is unfortunately little suited to family reading. The not wholly insensible to the most obvious principles arguments which are urged, and the facts which of virtue. But in proportion to the enormity of the are adduced as proofs of adultery, are necessarily offence, should be the caution with which the sus of such a nature as cannot be expressed in terms of picion is permitted to be entertained; for besides perfect delicacy; yet neither the arguments, nor the injury which is thus done to the person accused, the facts, can be omitted; for although every reader the jealous accuser will assuredly exclaim with must "weep Othello: "O'er gentle Desdemona's woes 1," yet I believe there is no person who would wish to aggravate the guilt of Othello, by leaving out any of those circumstances which give an appearance of truth to the suggestions of Iago. "O now for ever, quences in Posthumus; and we view them in their utmost horror in Othello. Farewell the tranquil mind-farewell content." Shakspeare appears to have been particularly desirous of warning mankind against the indulgence of this fatal passion; for, independent of various From the multitude of indecent expressions which observations in different parts of his works, he has abound in the speeches of the inferior characters, I made it the principal subject of no less than four of have endeavoured to clear the play; but I cannot his best plays: exerting his matchless powers in erase all the bitter terms of reproach and execration painting it with every variety of colouring that was with which the transports of jealousy and revenge calculated to warn the human mind against its adare expressed by the Moor, without altering his mission. It is laughably ridiculous in Ford; it is character; losing sight of the horror of those pas-justly odious in Leontes; we tremble for its consesions; and, in fact, destroying the Tragedy. I find myself, therefore, reduced to the alternative of either departing in some degree from the principle on which this publication is undertaken, or materially injuring a most invaluable exertion of the genius of Shakspeare. I have adopted the former part of the alternative, and, in making this decision, I have been much influenced by an opinion which I have long entertained, that this play, in its present form, is calculated to produce an excellent effect on the human mind: by exhibiting a most forcible and impressive warning against the admission of that baneful passion, which, when once admitted, is the inevitable destroyer of conjugal happiness. 1 Scott's Rokeby. After the foregoing observations, I shall only add, that I have endeavoured to erase the objectionable expressions which so frequently occur in the ori ginal text, whenever it could be done consistently with the character and situation of the speaker; but if, after all that I have omitted, it shall still be thought that this inimitable tragedy is not sufficiently correct for family reading, I would advise the transferring of it from the parlour to the cabinet, where the perusal will not only delight the poetic taste, but convey useful and important instruction both to the heart and the understanding of the reader. SCENE, for the first Act, in Venice; during the rest of the Play, at a Sea-port in Cyprus. As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of For, sir, this. Iago. Despise me, if I do not. Three great ones of the city, In personal suit to make me his lieutenant, My mediators; for certes3, says he, I have already chose my officer. Forsooth, a great arithmetician, More than a spinster; unless the bookish theorick, As masterly as he mere prattle, without practice, Iago. But there's no remedy, 'tis the curse of Preferment goes by letter, and affection, Rod. I would not follow him then. Iago. O, sir, content you; Whip me such honest knaves: Others there are, It is as sure as you are Roderigo, Iago. Rod. Here is her father's house; I'll call aloud. Iago. Do; with like timorous accent, and dire yell, As when, by night and negligence, the fire Is spied in populous cities. Rod. What ho! Brabantio! signior Brabantio, ho! Iago. Awake! what ho! Brabantio! thieves! thieves! thieves! Look to your house, your daughter, and your bags! Thieves! thieves! BRABANTIO, above, at a Window. Bra. What is the reason of this terrible summons? What is the matter there? Rod. Signior, is all your family within? Bra. Why? wherefore ask you this? Iago. Sir, you are robb'd; for shame, put on your But thou must needs be sure, My spirit, and my place, have in them power To make this bitter to thee. Own, possess. Bra. What tell'st thou me of robbing? this is | Past thought! What said she to you? Venice? Iago. Then, sir, because we come to do you ser vice, you think we are ruffians. Bra. What wretch art thou? more tapers: Raise all my kindred. — Are they married, think you? Rod. Truly, I think, they are. Bra. O heaven, how got she out! O treason of the blood! — Fathers, from hence trust not your daughters' minds Iago. I am one, sir, that comes to tell you, your By what you see them act. Are there not charms, daughter and the Moor are now together. derigo. Rod. Sir, I will answer any thing. But I be- If 't be your pleasure, and most wise consent, That, from the sense of all civility, leave,― - I say, again, hath made a gross revolt; Of here and every where: Straight satisfy yourself: Let loose on me the justice of the state Bra. Strike on the tinder, ho! I must show out a flag and sign of love, By which the property of youth and maidhood Yes, sir; I have indeed. her! Nay, but he prated, And spoke such scurvy and provoking terms Against your honour, That, with the little godliness I have, I did full hard forbear him. But, I pray, sir, Oth. Let him do his spite: Which is indeed but sign. That you shall surely As this that I have reach'd: For know, Iago, My parts, my title, and my perfect soul, Oth. The servants of the duke, and my lieutenant. The goodness of the night upon you, friends! What is the news? Cas. The duke does greet you, general; And he requires your haste, post-haste appearance, Even on the instant. Oth. What is the matter, think you? Cas. Something from Cyprus, as I may divine; It is a business of some heat: the gallies Have sent a dozen sequent messengers This very night at one another's heels; And many of the consuls, rais'd, and met, Are at the duke's already: You have been hotly call'd for; When, being not at your lodging to be found, Oth. [Exit. Cas. Ancient, what makes he here? Iago. He hath to-night boarded a land carack 6; If it prove lawful prize, he's made for ever. Cas. I do not understand. Iago. Cas. He's married. To who? Re-enter OTHELLO. Iago. Marry, to - Come, captain, will you go? Enter BRABANTIO, RODERIGO, and Officers of night, with Torches and Weapons. Iago. It is Brabantio : He comes to bad intent. Oth. Rod. Signior, it is the Moor. Down with him, thief! [They draw on both sides. Iago. You, Roderigo! come sir, I am for you. Oth. Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust them. Good signior, you shall more command with years, Than with your weapons. Era. O thou foul thief, where hast thou stow'd my daughter? Wretch that thou art, thou hast enchanted her : For I'll refer me to all things of sense, If she in chains of magick were not bound, Whether a maid - so tender, fair, and happy; So opposite to marriage, that she shunn'd The wealthy curled darlings of our nation, Would ever have, to incur a general mock, Run from her guardage to the sooty bosom Of such a thing as thou: to fear, not to delight. Judge me the world, if 'tis not gross in sense, That thou hast practis'd on her with foul charms; Abus'd her delicate youth with drugs, or minerals, 'Tis probable, and palpable to thinking. I therefore apprehend and do attach thee, For an abuser of the world, a practiser Of arts inhibited and out of warrant :Lay hold upon him; if he do resist, Subdue him at his peril. Oth. Hold your hands, 6 A rich vessel. Indeed, they are disproportion'd; My letters say, a hundred and seven gallies. Duke. And mine a hundred and forty. 2 Sen. And mine, two hundred : But though they jump not on a just account, Tis oft with difference,) yet do they all confirm (As in these cases, where the aim 8 reports, A Turkish fleet, and bearing up to Cyprus. Duke. Nay, it is possible enough to judgment; I do not so secure me in the error, But the main article I do approve In fearful sense. Sailor. [Within.] What ho! what ho! what ho! Enter an Officer, with a Sailor. Off. A messenger from the gallies. A maiden never bold; Of spirit so still and quiet, that her motion Blush'd at herself; and she,—in spite of nature, Of years, of country, credit, every thing,To fall in love with what she fear'd to look on? It is a judgment maim'd, and most imperfect, That will confess - perfection so could err Enter BRABANTIO, OTHELLO, IAGO, RODERIGO, and Against all rules of nature, and must be driven To find out practices of cunning hell, Officers. Duke. Valiant Othello, we must straight employ Why this should be. I therefore vouch again, you Against the general enemy Ottoman. I did not see you; welcome, gentle signior; [TO BRABANTIO. We lack'd your counsel and your help to-night. Bra. So did I yours: Good your grace, pardon me; Ay, to me; She is abus'd, stol'n from me, and corrupted Duke. Whoe'er he be, that, in this foul proceeding, Bra. Duke & Sen. this? Duke. Than these thin habits, and poor likelihoods Oth. Duke. So justly to your grave ears I'll present Duke. Say it, Othello. Oth. Her father lov'd me, oft invited me; I ran it through, even from my boyish days, And sold to slavery; of my redemption thence, Wherein of antres vast, and desarts idle, Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads touch heaven, |