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I might have saved her; now she's gone for ever!
Cordelia, Cordelia! stay a little. Ha!
What is't thou say'st? Her voice was ever soft,
Gentle, and low, an excellent thing in woman.
I kill'd the slave that was a-hanging thee.
Capt. 'Tis true, my lords, he did.
Did I not, fellow?
I have seen the day, with my good biting falchion I would have made them skip: I am old now, And these same crosses spoil me. Who are you? Mine eyes are not o' the best: I'll tell you straight.
Kent. If fortune brag of two she loved and hated, 280 One of them we behold.
Lear. This is a dull sight. Are you not Kent? Kent. The same, Your servant Kent. Where is your servant Caius? Lear. He's a good fellow, I can tell you that; He'll strike, and quickly too: he's dead and
Kent. No, my good lord; I am the very man,-
Lear. I'll see that straight.
Kent. That, from your first of difference and
decay, Have follow'd your sad steps.
You are welcome hither.
Kent. Nor no man else: all's cheerless, dark,
Your eldest daughters have fordone themselves,
And desperately are dead.
Ay, so I think.
Alb. He knows not what he says: and vain it is
That we present us to him.
Enter a Captain.
Capt. Edmund is dead, my lord.
That's but a trifle here.
You lords and noble friends, know our intent.
What comfort to this great decay may come
Shall be applied: for us, we will resign,
During the life of this old majesty,
To him our absolute power: [To Edgar and Kent] you, to your rights;
With boot, and such addition as your honours
Have more than merited. All friends shall taste
The wages of their virtue, and all foes
The cup of their deservings. O, see, see!
Lear. And my poor fool is hang'd! No, no,
Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life,
And thou no breath at all? Thou'lt come no more,
Never, never, never, never, never!
Pray you, undo this button: thank you, sir.
Do you see this? Look on her, look, her lips, 310
Look there, look there!
He faints! My lord, my lord!
Kent. Break, heart; I prithee, break!
Look up, my lord.
Kent. Vex not his ghost: O, let him pass! he
hates him much
THE MOOR OF VENICE.
DUKE OF VENICE.
BRABANTIO, a senator.
GRATIANO, brother to Brabantio.
LODOVICO, kinsman to Brabantio.
OTHELLO, a noble Moor in the service of the
CASSIO, his lieutenant.
IAGO, his ancient.
RODERIGO, a Venetian gentleman.
MONTANO, Othello's predecessor in the go-
vernment of Cyprus.
That thou, Iago, who hast had my purse
As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this.
Iago. 'Sblood, but you will not hear me:
If ever I did dream of such a matter,
Rod. By heaven, I rather would have been his hangman.
SCENE I. Venice. A street.
Iago. Why, there's no remedy; 'tis the curse of service, Preferment goes by letter and affection,
Enter RODERIGO and IAGO.
Rod. Tush! never tell me; I take it much And not by old gradation, where each second Stood heir to the first. Now, sir, be judge your
Rod. Thou told'st me thou didst hold him in thy hate.
Iago. Despise me, if I do not. Three great ones of the city,
In personal suit to make me his lieutenant,
Off-capp'd to him: and, by the faith of man,
I know my price, I am worth no worse a place :
But he, as loving his own pride and purposes
Evades them, with a bombast circumstance
Horribly stuff'd with epithets of war;
And, in conclusion,
Nonsuits my mediators; for, 'Certes,' says he,
'I have already chose my officer.'
And what was he?
Forsooth, a great arithmetician,
One Michael Cassio, a Florentine,
+A fellow almost damn'd in a fair wife;
That never set a squadron in the field,
Nor the division of a battle knows
More than a spinster; unless the bookish theoric,
Wherein the toged consuls can propose
As masterly as he mere prattle, without practice,
Is all his soldiership. But he, sir, had the election:
And I, of whom his eyes had seen the proof
At Rhodes, at Cyprus and on other grounds
Christian and heathen, must be be-lee'd and
Clown, servant to Othello.
DESDEMONA, daughter to Brabantio and wife
EMILIA, wife to Iago.
BIANCA, mistress to Cassio.
By debitor and creditor: this counter-caster,
He, in good time, must his lieutenant be,
And I-God bless the mark!-his Moorship's
Sailor, Messenger, Herald, Officers, Gentlemen,
Musicians, and Attendants.
SCENE: Venice: a Sea-port in Cyprus.
Whether I in any just term am affined
To love the Moor.
I would not follow him then. 40
Iago. O, sir, content you;
I follow him to serve my turn upon him:
We cannot all be masters, nor all masters
Cannot be truly follow'd. You shall mark
Many a duteous and knee-crooking knave,
That, doting on his own obsequious bondage,
Wears out his time, much like his master's ass,
For nought but provender, and when he's old,
Whip me such honest knaves. Others there are Who, trimm'd in forms and visages of duty, 50 Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves, And, throwing but shows of service on their lords, Do well thrive by them and when they have lined their coats
Do themselves homage: these fellows have some
And such a one do I profess myself. For, sir,
It is as sure as you are Roderigo,
Were I the Moor, I would not be Iago:
In following him, I follow but myself;
Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty,
But seeming so, for my peculiar end:
For when my outward action doth demonstrate
The native act and figure of my heart
In compliment extern, 'tis not long after
But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve
For daws to peck at: I am not what I am.
Rod. What a full fortune does the thick-lips
Rouse him make after him, poison his delight,
Proclaim him in the streets; incense her kinsmen,
And, though he in a fertile climate dwell,
Plague him with flies: though that his joy be joy,
Yet throw such changes of vexation on't,
As it may lose some colour.
Do, with like timorous accent and dire
Rod. Here is her father's house; I'll call aloud. Iago. 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 appears above, at a window.
Bra. What is the reason of this terrible summons?
What is the matter there?
Signior, is all your family within?
Are your doors lock'd?
Why, wherefore ask you this? Iago. 'Zounds, sir, you're robb'd; for shame, put on your gown;
Your heart is burst, you have lost half your soul;
Even now, now, very now, an old black ram
Is tupping your white ewe. Arise, arise;
Awake the snorting citizens with the bell, 90
Or else the devil will make a grandsire of you:
Arise, I say.
Bra. What, have you lost your wits?
Rod. Most reverend signior, do you know my
Bra. Not I: what are you?
Rod. My name is Roderigo. Bra. The worser welcome: I have charged thee not to haunt about my doors: In honest plainness thou hast heard me say My daughter is not for thee; and now, in mad
Patience, good sir.
Bra. What tell'st thou me of robbing? this is
My house is not a grange.
You are a senator. Bra. This thou shalt answer; I know thee, Roderigo. Rod. Sir, I will answer any thing. But, I beseech you,
Rod. Most grave Brabantio, In simple and pure soul I come to you. Iago. 'Zounds, sir, you are one of those that will not serve God, if the devil bid you. Because we come to do service and you think we are ruffians, you'll your daughter covered with a Barbary horse; you'll have your nephews neigh to you; you'll have coursers for cousins and gennets for germans.
Bra. What profane wretch art thou?
Iago. I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter and the Moor are now making the beast with two backs.
Thou art a villain.
If 't be your pleasure and most wise consent,
As partly I find it is, that your fair daughter,
At this odd-even and dull watch o' the night,
Transported, with no worse nor better guard
But with a knave of common hire, a gondolier,
To the gross clasps 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 130
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 your-
If she be in her chamber or your house, Let loose on me the justice of the state For thus deluding you.
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 above. Iago. Farewell; for I must leave you: It seems not meet, nor wholesome to my place, To be produced-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 none, pod 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,
Which is indeed but sign. That you shall surely
Lead to the Sagittary the raised search; And there will I be with him. So, farewell. 160 [Exit. Enter, below, BRABANTIO, and Servants with torches.
Oth. 'Tis better as it is.
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 you, sir,
Are you fast married? Be assured of this,
That the magnifico 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.
Let him do his spite:
My services which I have done the signiory
Shall out-tongue his complaints.
'Tis yet to
Which, when I know that boasting is an honour,
I shall promulgate-I fetch my life and being 21
From men of royal siege, and my demerits
May speak unbonneted to as proud a fortune
As this that I have reach'd: for know, Iago,
But that I love the gentle Desdemona,
I would not my unhoused free condition
Put into circumscription and confine
For the sea's worth. But, look! what lights come
Iago. Those are the raised father and his
You were best go in.
Not I: I must be found:
My parts, my title and my perfect soul
Shall manifest me rightly. Is it they?
Iago. By Janus, I think no.
Enter CASSIO, and certain Officers with torches.
Oth. The servants of the duke, and my lieu
The goodness of the night upon you, friends!
What is the news?
Good signior, you shall more command with years
Than with your weapons.
Bra. O thou foul thief, where hast thou stow'd
Damn'd as thou art, thou hast enchanted her;
For I'll refer me to all things of sense,
If she in chains of magic 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 practised on her with foul charms,
Abused her delicate youth with drugs or minerals
That weaken motion: I'll have 't disputed on;
'Tis probable and palpable to thinking,
30 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.
Enter BRABAntio, RoderigO, and Officers with torches and weapons.
Holla! stand there!
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.
Hold your hands,
Both you of my inclining, and the rest:
Were it my cue to fight, I should have known it
Without a prompter. Where will you that I go
To answer this your charge?
First Sen. Indeed, they are disproportion'd;
My letters say a hundred and seven galleys.
Duke. And mine, a hundred and forty.
And mine, two hundred:
But though they jump not on a just account,—
As in these cases, where the aim reports,
"Tis oft with difference-yet do they all confirm
A Turkish fleet, and bearing up to Cyprus.
Duke. Nay, it is possible enough to judge
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!
First Off. A messenger from the galleys.
Duke. How say you by this change?
Enter a Sailor.
Now, what's the business?
Sail. The Turkish preparation makes for
So was I bid report here to the state
By Signior Angelo.
First Off. Here is more news.
Take hold on me, for my particular grief
Is of so flood-gate and o'erbearing nature
That it engluts and swallows other sorrows
And it is still itself.
Why, what's the matter?
Bra. My daughter! O, my daughter!
Duke and Sen.
Ay, to me;
She is abused, stol'n from me, and corrupted 60
By spells and medicines bought of mountebanks;
For nature so preposterously to err,
Being not deficient, blind, or lame of sense,
Sans witchcraft could not.
Duke Whoe'er he be that in this foul pro-
This cannot be, Hath thus beguiled your daughter of herself
And you of her, the bloody book of law
Enter a Messenger.
Mess. The Ottomites, reverend and gracious, Steering with due course towards the isle of Rhodes,
Have there injointed them with an after fleet. First Sen. Ay, so I thought. How many, as you guess?
Mess. Of thirty sail: and now they do re-stem Their backward course, bearing with frank appearance
Their purposes toward Cyprus. Signior Montano,
Your trusty and most valiant servitor,
With his free duty recommends you thus,
prays you to believe him.
Duke. 'Tis certain, then, for Cyprus.
Marcus Luccicos, is not he in town?
First Sen. He's now in Florence.
Duke. Write from us to him; post-post-haste
First Sen. Here comes Brabantio and the
Enter BRABANTIO, OTHELLO, IAGO,
RODERIGO, and Officers.
Duke. Valiant Othello, we must straight em-
Against the general enemy Ottoman.
[To Brabantio] I did not see you; welcome, gentle signior;
We lack'd your counsel and your help to-night.
Bra. So did I yours. Good your grace, par-
don me; Neither my place nor aught I heard of business Hath raised me from my bed, nor doth the general
By no assay of reason: 'tis a pageant,
To keep us in false gaze. When we consider
The importancy of Cyprus to the Turk,
And let ourselves again but understand,
That as it more concerns the Turk than Rhodes,
So may he with more facile question bear it,
For that it stands not in such warlike brace,
But altogether lacks the abilities
That Rhodes is dress'd in: if we make thought
Bra. Nothing, but this is so.
We must not think the Turk is so unskilful
To leave that latest which concerns him first,
Neglecting an attempt of ease and gain,
To wake and wage a danger profitless.
Duke. Nay, in all confidence, he's not for My very noble and approved good masters,
That I have ta'en away this old man's daughter,
It is most true; true, I have married her:
Oth. Most potent, grave, and reverend sig.
You shall yourself read in the bitter letter
After your own sense, yea, though our proper son
Stood in your action.
Humbly I thank your grace. 70
Here is the man, this Moor, whom now, it seems,
Your special mandate for the state-affairs
Hath hither brought.
Duke and Sen. We are very sorry for't.
Duke. [To Othello] What, in your own part,
can you say to this?