Laer. Why, as a woodcock to my own springe, Osric; I am justly kill'd with mine own treachery.

Ham. How does the Queen?

King. She swoons to see them bleed.

Queen. No, no, the drink, the drink,-O my dear Hamlet! The drink, the drink: I am poison'd!

[Dies

[LAERTES falls,

Ham. O villany!-Ho! let the door be lock'd:
Treachery! seek it out.

Laer. It is here, Hamlet: Hamlet, thou art slain;
No medicine in the world can do thee good,
In thee there is not half an hour's life;
The treacherous instrument is in thy hand,
Unbated, and envenom'd;* the foul practice
Hath turn'd itself on me; lo, here I lie,
Never to rise again: Thy mother's poison'd;
I can no more; the king, the king's to blame.
Ham. The point

Envenom'd too!-Then venom, to thy work. [Stabs the KING.

Osr. and Lords. Treason, treason!

King. O, yet defend me, friends, I am but hurt.

Ham. Here, thou incestuous, murd'rous, damned Dane,

Drink off this potion:-Is the union + here?

Follow my mother.

Laer. He is justly served;

It is a poison temper'd by himself,

Exchange forgiveness with me, noble Hamlet:

Mine and my father's death come not upon thee;
Nor thine on me.

Ham. Heaven make thee free of it! I follow thee.
I am dead, Horatio:-Wretched queen, adieu!-
You that look pale and tremble at this chance,
That are but mutes or audience to this act,
Had I but time (as this fell sergeant,§ death,
Is strict in his arrest), O, I could tell you,-
But let it be-Horatio, I am dead;

Thou livest; report me and my cause aright
To the unsatisfied.

Hor. Never believe it;

I am more an antique Roman than a Dane,
Here's yet some liquor left.

Ham. As thou'rt a man,

Give me the cup; let go; by heaven I'll have it.

O God!-Horatio, what a wounded name,

[KING dies

Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me!

If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart,

Absent thee from felicity awhile,

And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain,

To tell my story.

What warlike noise is this?

[Dies

[March afar off, and shot within.

Osr. Young Fortinb with conquest come from Poland,

*Without a button and poisoned

+ Mixed.

+ The pearl the king spoke of. Sheriff's officer.

To the ambassadors of England gives
This warlike volley.

Ham. O, I die, Horatio;

The potent poison quite o'er-crows my spirit;

I cannot live to hear the news from England:
But I do prophesy the election lights

On Fortinbras; he has my dying voice;

So tell him, with the occurrents,* more or less,

Which have solicited,t-The rest is silence.

[Dies.

Hor. Now cracks a noble heart;-Good night, sweet prince;

And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!

Why does the drum come hither?

[March within.

Enter FORTINBRAS, the ENGLISH AMBASSADORS, and others.

Fort. Where is this sight?

Hor. What is it you would see ?

If aught of woe, or wonder, cease your search.

Fort. This quarry cries on havoc! §-O, proud death!

What feast is toward in thine eternal cell,

That thou so many princes, at a shot,

So bloodily hast struck?

1 Amb. The sight is dismal;

And our affairs from England come too late :
The ears are senseless, that should give us hearing,

To tell him, his commandment is fulfill'd,
That Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead:
Where should we have our thanks?

Hor. Not from his mouth,

Had it the ability of life to thank you;

He never gave commandment for their death.
But since, so jump || upon this bloody question,
You from the Polack wars, and you from England,'
Are here arrived; give order, that these bodies
High on a stage be placed to the view;
And let me speak, to the yet unknowing world,
How these things come about: So shall you hear
Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts;
Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters;
Of deaths put on by cunning, and forced cause;
And, in this upshot, purposes mistook

Fallen on the inventors' heads: all this can I
Truly deliver.

Fort. Let us haste to hear it,

And call the noblest to the audience.

For me, with sorrow I embrace my fortune;
I have some rights of memory in this kingdom,
Which now to claim my vantage doth invite me.
Hor. Of that I shall have also cause to speak,

And from his mouth whose voice will draw on more:

+ Incited.

* Incidents. + Heap of dead game. A word of censure when more game was destroyed than was reason Exactly.

able.

Polish

But let this same be presently perform'd,

Even when men's minds are wild; lest more mischance

On plots and errors, happen.

Fort. Let four captains

Bear Hamlet, like a soldier, to the stage,

For he was likely, had he been put on,

To have proved most royally; and, for his passage,
The soldier's music, and the rites of war,

Speak loudly for him.

Take up the bodies:-Such a sight as this
Becomes the field, but here shows much amiss.
Go, bid the soldiers shoot.

[A dead march. [Exeunt, bearing off the dead bodies; after which, a peal of ordnance is shot off.

OTHELLO, THE MOOR OF VENICE.

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

DUKE OF VENICE.

BRABANTIO, a Senator.

Two other SENATORS.

GRATIANO, Brother to Brabantio.

HERALD.

DESDEMONA, Daughter to Bra. bantio, and Wife to Othello.

LODOVICO, Kinsman to Brabantio. | EMILIA, Wife to Iago.

OTHELLO, the Moor.

CASSIO, his Lieutenant.

IAGO, his Ancient.

RODERIGO, a Venetian Gentleman.

MONTANO, Othello's predecessor in the government of Cyprus.

CLOWN, Servant to Othello.

BIANCA, a Courtezan, Mistress to
Cassio.

OFFICERS, GENTLEMEN, MESSEN-
GERS, MUSICIANS, SAILORS, AT-
TENDANTS, &c.

SCENE, for the first Act, in Venice; during the rest of the Play at a Sea-port in Cyprus.

ACT I.

A Street.

SCENE I-Venice.

Enter RODERIGO and IAGO.

Rod. Tush, never tell me, I take it much unkindly,

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,

Abhor me.

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,

Oft 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,t
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,
* Saluted.

† Circumlocution.

A fellow almost damn'd in a fair life;
That never set a squadron in the field,
Nor the division of a battle knows

More than a spinster; unless the bookish theoric,t
Wherein the togaed 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 calm'd
By debitor and creditor, this counter-caster ;
He, in good time, must his lieutenant be,

And I (God bless the mark !), his Moorship's ancient.
Rod. By heaven, I rather would have been his hangman.
Iago. But there's no remedy; 'tis the curse of service;
Preferment goes by letter, and affection,

Not by the old gradation, where each second
Stood heir to the first. Now, Sir, be judge yourself,
Whether I in any just term am affined §
To love the Moor.

Rod. I would not follow him then.
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, cashier'd;
Whip me such honest knaves: Others there are,
Who, trimm'd in forms and visages of duty,

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 soul;

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, T '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 owe,**
If he can carry't thus!

* Except.

+ Theory.

It was anciently the practice to reckon up sums with counters.

Related.

Outward show of civility.

Servants.
** Own, enjoy.