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,

Bra. What tell'st thou me of robbing? this is | Past thought! What said she to you?

Venice?
My house is not a grange.7
Rod.
Most grave Brabantio,
In simple and pure soul I come to you.

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-
seech you,

If 't be your pleasure, and most wise consent,
(As partly, I find, it is,) that your fair daughter,
At this odd-even 8 and dull watch o' the night,
Transported with no worse nor better guard,
But with a knave of common hire, a gondolier,
To the embrace of a lascivious Moor, -
If this be known to you, and your allowance,
We then have done you bold and saucy wrongs;
But, if you know not this, my manners tell me,
We have your wrong rebuke. Do not believe,

That, from the sense of all civility,
I thus would play and trifle with your reverence:
Your daughter, if you have not given her

leave,―

-

I say, again, hath made a gross revolt;
Tying her duty, beauty, wit, and fortunes,
In an extravagant' and wheeling stranger,

Of here and every where: Straight satisfy yourself:
If she be in her chamber, or your house,

Let loose on me the justice of the state
For thus deluding you.

Bra.

Strike on the tinder, ho!
Give me a taper; - call up all my people:
This accident is not unlike my dream,
Belief of it oppresses me already :-
Light, I say! light!
[Exit from above.
Iago.
Farewell; for I must leave you :
It seems not meet, nor wholesome to my place,
To be produc'd (as, if I stay, I shall,)
Against the Moor: For, I do know, the state,
However this may gall him with some check,
Cannot with safety cast him; for he's embark'd
With such loud reason to the Cyprus' wars,
(Which even now stand in act,) that, for their souls,
Another of his fathom they have not,
To lead their business in which regard,
Though I do hate him as I do hell pains,
Yet, for necessity of present life,

I must show out a flag and sign of love,

By which the property of youth and maidhood
May be abus'd? Have you not read, Roderigo,
Of some such thing?
Rod.

Yes, sir; I have indeed.
Bra. Call up my brother. — O, that you had had

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,
Are you fast married? for, be sure of this, -
That the magnifico 3 is much beloved;
And hath, in his effect, a voice potential
As double as the duke's; he will divorce you;
Or put upon you what restraint and grievance
The law (with all his might, to enforce it on,)
Will give him cable.

Oth.

Let him do his spite:
My services, which I have done the signiory,
Shall out-tongue his complaints. 'Tis yet to know,
(Which when I know that boasting is an honour,
I shall promulgate,) I fetch my life and being
From men of royal siege 4; and my demerits 5
May speak, unbonneted, to as proud a fortune

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,
Shall manifest me rightly. Is it they?
Iago. By Janus, I think no.

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.

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,
The senate hath sent about three several quests,
To search you out.

Oth.
'Tis well I am found by you.
I will but spend a word here in the house,
And go with you.

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.

To who?

Enter BRABANTIO, OTHELLO, IAGO, RODERIGO, and Against all rules of nature, and must be driven To find out practices of cunning hell,

Duke. Valiant Othello, we must straight employ Why this should be. I therefore vouch again,
That with some mixtures powerful o'er the blood,
Or with some dram conjur'd to this effect,
He wrought upon her.