The Tragedy of Othello

12

Their dearest action in the tented field,
And little of this great world can I speake,
More then pertaines to feate of broyle, and battaile,
And therefore little shall I grace my caufe,
In speaking for my selfe; yet by your gracious patience,
I will a round vnarnish'd tale dehuer,
Of my who'e course of loue, what drugs, what charmes,
What coniuration, and what mighty Magicke,
(For such proceedings am I charg'd withall: )
I wonne his daughter.

**Bra.** A maidenneuer bold of spirit,
So still and quiet, that her motion
Blufht at her selfe : and she in spight of nature,
Of yeares, of Countrey, credit, euery thing,
To fall in loue with what she fear'd to looke on ?
It is a judgement maimd, and most imperfect,
That will confefle perfection, so would erre
Against all rules of Nature, and must be druien;
To finde out practises of cunning helv,
Why this should be, I therefore vouch againe,
That with some mixtures powerfull ore the blood,
Or with some dram coniued to this effect,
He wrought vpon her.

**Du.** To youth this is no proofe,
Without more certaine and more ouert teft,
These are thin habits, and poore likelihoods,
Of moderne seemings, you preferre against him.

**1 Sena.** But Othello speake,
Did you by indirect and forced courtes,
Subdue and poison this young maides affections ?
Or came it by request, and such faire quelltion,
As foule to foule affoordeth?

**Oth.** I doe befeech you,
Send for the Lady to the Sagittar,
And let her speake of me before her father :
If you doe finde me foule in her report,
Not onely take away, but let your sentence

Euen

The Moore of Venice.

13

Euen fall vpon my life.

**Du.** Fetch Desdemona hither. Exit two or three.

**Oth.** Ancient conduct them, you beſt know the place :
And till she come, as faithful as to heauen,
So iuſtly to your graue eares Ile preſent,
How I did thrive in this faire Ladyes loue,
And she in mine.

**Du.** Say it Othello.

**Oth.** Her Father loued me, oft inuited me,
Still questioned me the story of my life,
From yeare to yeare, the battailes, ſeiges, fortunes
That I haue papt:

I ran it through, euen from my boyish dayes,
Toth' very moment that he bade me tell it.
Wherein I speake of moſt diſaſtrous chances,
Of moouing accident of flood and field;
Of heire-breadth ſcapes iſt imminent deadly breach;
Of being taken by the insolent foe :

And fold to ſlaury, and my redemption thence,
And with it all my trauells Hiftorie;

W herein of Antrees vaſt, and Deſerts idle,
Rough quarries, rocks and hills, whose heads touch heauen,
It was my hent to ſpeake, ſuch was the proceſſe :

And of the Cannibals, that each other eate;
The Anthropophagie, and men whose heads
Doe grow beneath their shoulders : this to heare,
Would Desdemona ſeriously incline;

But ſtill the houſe affaires would draw her thence,
And euer as she could with haſt diſpatch,
Shee'd come againe, and with a greedy eare
Deuoure vp my diſcourse; which I obferuing,
Tooke once a plyant houre, and found good meaneſ

To draw from her a prayer of earneſt heart,
That I would all my pilgrimage dilate,
Whereof by parcell she had ſomething heard.

G-3

Whea

The Tragedy of Othello

14

When I did speake of some distressed stroake

That my youth suffered : my story being done;

She gave me for my pains a world of fights;

She wore I faith twas strange, twas passing strange's

Twas pitiful, twas wondrous pitiful;

She wisht she had not heard it, yet she wisht

That Heauen had made her such a man: she thanked me,

And bad me, if I had a friend that loued her,

I should but teach him how to tell my story,

And that would woee her. Vpon this heate I spake:

She lou'd me for the dangers I had past.

And I lou'd her that she did pitty them.

This only is the witchcraft I haue vs'd:

Here comes the Lady,

Let her witnesse it.

Enter Defdemona, Iago, and the rest.

Du. I thinke this tale would win my daughter to, ---
Good Brabantio, take vp this mangled matter at the best,
Men doe their broken weapons rather vse,
Then their bare hands.

Bra. I pray you heare her speake.

If she confesse that she was halfe the wooer,

Destruction lite on me, if my bad blame

Light on the man. Come hither gentle miftrefle:

Doe you perceiue in all this noble company,

Where moft you owe obedience?

Def. My noble father,

I doe perceiue here a denided duty :

To you I am bound for life and education;

My life and education both doe learne me

How to respect you, you are Lord of all my duty,

I am hitherto your daughter, But heere's my husband :

And so much duty as my mother shewed

To you, preferring you before her father,

So much I challenge, that I may professe,

Due to the Moore my Lord.

Bre;

The Moore of Venice.

15

Bra. God bu'y, I ha done :

Please it your Grace, on to the State affaires;

I had rather to adopt a child then get it;

Come hither Moore:

I here doe giue thee that, with all my heart

I would keepe from thee : for your fake Iewell,

I am glad at Soule. I haue no other child,

For thy escape would teach me tyranny,

To hang clogs on em, I haue done my Lord.

Du. Let me speake like your selfe, and lay a sentence
Which as a Greefe or Step may helpe these Louers
Into your fauour.

When remedies are paft, the griefes are ended,

By seeing the worft, which late on hopes depended,

To mourne a mifcheife that is paft and gone,

Is the next way to draw more mifchefe on;

What cannot be prefer'd when fortune takes,

Patience her injury a mockery makes,

The rob'd that smiles, heales something from the thiefe,

He robs himselfe, that he spends a booteleffe griefe.

Bra. So let the *Turke*, of *Cypres* vs beguile,

We lose it not so long as we can smile ;

He beares the sentence well that nothing beares,

But the free comfort, which from thence he heates :

But he beares both the sentence and the sorrow,

That to pay griefe, muft of poore patience borrow.

These sentences to sugar, or to gall,

Being strong on both sides, are equiuocall:

But words are words, I neuer yet did heare,

That the bruis'd heart was pierced through the care.

Befeech you now, to the affaires of the state.

Du. The *Turke* with most mighty preparation makes for *Cypres*:
Othello, the fortitude of the place, is best knowne to you, and the we
haue there a subffitute of most allowed sufficiency, yet opinion, a fo-
ueraigne miftrefle of effects, throwes a more safër vayce on you; you
muft therefore bee content to flubber the glofle of your new for-
tunes, with this more stubborne and boisterous expedition.

C 4

Oth.

The Tragedy of Othello

10

Oth. The tyrant custome most great Senators,
Hath made the flinty and icele Cooch of warre,
My thrice driven bed of downe: I doe agnize
A naturall and prompt alacrity,
I finde in hardneſſe, and would vndertake
This present warres against the Ottamites,
Most humbly therefore, bending to your State,
I craue fit diſpoſition for my wife,
Due reverence of place and exhibition,
Which such accomodation? and beſort
As levels with her breeding.

Du. If you please, bee't at her fathers.

Bra. Ile not haue it so.

Oth. Nor I.

Desd. Nor I, I would not there refide,
Toput my father in impatient thoughts,
By being in his eye: most gracious Duke,
To my vnfolding lend a gracious care,
And let me finde a charter in your voyce,
And if my ſimplenefſe. ---

Du. What would you --- ſpeake.

Des. That I did loue the Moore, to liue with him,
My downe right violence, and ſcorne of Fortunes,
May trumpet to the world: my hearts ſubdued,
Fuen to the vntoft pleasure of my Lord:
I saw Othelloes viſſage in his minde,
And to his Honors, and his valiant parts
Did I my foule and fortunes confecrate:
So that deere Lords, if I be left behinde,
A Mothe of peace, and he goe to the warre,
The rites for which I loue him, are bereſt me,
And I a heauy interim ſhall ſupport,
By his deare absence, let me goe with him.

Oth. Your voyces Lords: beſeech you let her will,
Haue a free way, I therefore beg it not.
To please the pallat of my appetite,
Nor to comply with heate, the young affects

1a

The Moore of Venice.

17

In my defunct, and proper ſatisfaction,
But to be free and bounteous of her mind,
And hauen defend your good ſoules that you thinke
I will your ſerious and good buſineſſe ſcant,
For ſhe is with me; --- no, when light-wingd toyes,
And feather'd Cupid foyles with wanton dulneſſe,
My ſpeculatiue and active instruments,
That my diſports, corrupt and taint my buſineſſe,
Let hufwies make a skellet of my Helme;
And all indigne and bafe aduerſities,
Make head against my reputation.

Du. Be it as you ſhall privately determine,
Euer for ſlay or going, the affaires cry haſt,
And ſpeede must auſwer, you must hence to night,

Desd. To night my Lord?

Du. This night.

Oth. With all my heart.

Du. At ten i' the morning here weel meete againe.

Othello, leaue some officer behind,
And he ſhall our Commission bring to you,
With ſuch things ſelfe of quality or reſpect,
As doth concerne you.

Oth. Pleafe your Grace, my Ancient,
A man he is of honesty and truſt,
To his conveyance I aſſigne my wife,
With what eſſe neeſtdefull your good Grace ſhall thinke,
To be ſent after me.

Du. Let it be so:
Good night to every one, and noble Seignior,
If vertue no delighted beauty lacke,
Your ſon in law is farre more faire then blacke.

1 Sena. Adue braue Moore, vſe Desdemona well.

Bra. Looke to her Moore, haue a quicke eye to ſee,
She has deceu'd her father, may doe thee.

Excuse.
Oth. My life vpon her faith: honest Iago,
My Desdemona muſt I leaue to thee,
I preeth the let thy wife attend on her,

D

And

18 The Tragedy of Othello

And bring her after in the beſt aduantage ;

Come Desdemona, I haue but an houre

Of loue, of worldly matters, and direction,

To spend with thee, we muſt obey the time.

Exit Moore and Desdemona.

Rod. Iago.

Iag. What ſaieſt thou noble heart ?

Rod. What will I doe thinkeſt thou ?

Iag. Why goe to bed and sleepe.

Rod. I will incontinently drowne my ſelfe.

Iag. Well, if thou doeſt, I shall neuer loue theſe after it,

Why, thou filly Gentlemen.

Rod. It is ſillneſſe to lue, when to lue is a torment, and then we
have a preſcription, to dye when death is our Phyſition.

Iag. I ha look'd upon the world for foure times ſeuen yeares,
and ſince I could diſtinguſh betweene a benefit, and an iniury, I ne-
uer found a man that knew how to loue him ſelfe : ere I would ſay
I would drowne my ſelfe, for the loue of a Ginny Hen, I would
change my humanity with a Baboone.

Rod. What ſhould I do ? I confefſe it is my ſhame to be so ſond,
but it is not in my vertue to amend it.

Iag. Vertue ? a fig, ris in our ſelues, that wee are thus, or thus,
our bodies are gardens, to the which our wills are Gardiners, fo that
if we will plant Nettleſes, or sow Lettice, ſet Isop, and weed vp Time;
supply it with one gender of hearbes, or diſtract it with many ; ei-
ther to haue it ſterrill with Idlenefſe, or manur'd with Induſtry, why
the power, and corrigible Authority of this, lies in our wills. If the
ballance of our liues had not one ſcale of reaſon, to poife another of
ſenſuality; the blood and bafeſeſſe of our natures, would conduct
vs to moſt prepoſterous conclusions. But wee haue reaſon to coole
our raging motions, our carnall ſtings, our vnbitted luſts ; whereof
I take this, that you call loue to be a ſeek, or ſyen.

Rod. It cannot be.

Iag. It is meerly a luſt of the blood, and a permiſſion of the will:
Come, be a man; drowne thy ſelfe ? drowne Cats and blinde Pup-
pies: I proſeſſe me thy friend, and I confefſe me knit to thy defer-
ing, with cables of perdurable toughneſſe; I could neuer better
ſteade thee then now. Put money in thy purſe; follow theſe warres,
defeateth

The Moone of VENICE,

defeateth thy ſauour with an vſurp'd beard; I ſay, put money in thy
purſe. It cannot be, that Desdemona should long continue her loue
vnto the Moore, --- put money in thy purſe,-- nor he to her; it was
a violent commencement, and thou ſhalt see an anſwerable ſeque-
ſtration : put but money in thy purſe. --- These Moores are change-
able in their wills: --- fill thy purſe with money. The food that to
him now, is as lufhious as Loeuſts, shall be to him ſhortly as acerbe
as the Colloquintida. When ſhee is ſated with his body, ſhee will
finde the error of her choyce; ſhee muſt haue change, ſhee muſt.
Therefore put money in thy purſe : if thou wilt needes damme
thy ſelfe, doe it a more delicate way then drowning; make all
the money thou canſt. If ſanctimony, and a fraile vow, betwixt an
ingar Barbarian, and a ſuper ſubtle Venetian, be not too hard for my
wits, and all the tribe of hell, thou ſhalt enioy her; therefore make
money, --- a pox a drowning, tis cleane out of the way: ſeefe thou
rather to be hang'd in compaſſing thy ioy, then to bee drowned, and
goe without her.

Rod. Wilt thou be faſt to my hopes?

Iag. Thou art ſure of me --- goe, make money --- I haue told
thee often, and I tell thee againe, and againe, I hate the Moore, my
caufe is har ted, thine has no leſſe reaſon, let vs be communicatue in
our reuenge against him: If thou canſt%/cuckold him, thou doeſt thy
ſelfe a pleasure, and me a ſport. There are many euents in the womb
of Time, which will be deliuered. Trauerce, go, prouide thy money,
we will haue more of this to morrow, Adiuè.

Rod. Where shall we meete i'th morning.

Iag. At my lodging.

Rod. I'le be with thee berimes.

Iag. Go to, ſarewell: --- doe you heare Roderigo?

Rod. what ſay you ?

Iag. No more of drowning, doe you heare ?

Rod. I am chang'd.

Exit Roderigo.

Iag. Go to, ſarewell, put money enough in your purſe:

Thus doe I euere make my foole my purſe:

For I mine owne gain'd knowledge should prophane,

If I would time expend with such a ſnipe,

But for my ſport and profit : I hate the Moore,

D 2

And

And it is thought abroad, that twixt my sheeles
Ha's done my office; I know not, if it be true ---

And it is thought abroad, that twixt my sheeles
Ha's done my office; I know not, if it be true ---
Yet I, for meere sufpfition in that kind,
Will doe, as if for surety; he holds me well,

Will doe, as if for surety; he holds me well,
The better shall my purpose worke on him.

The better shall my purpose worke on him.
Cassio's a proper man, let me see now,

Cassio's a proper man, let me see now,
To get this place, and to make vp my will,

To get this place, and to make vp my will,
A double knaury --- how, how, --- let me see,

A double knaury --- how, how, --- let me see,
After some time, to abuse Othello's care,

After some time, to abuse Othello's care,
That he is too familiar with his wife :

That he is too familiar with his wife :
He has a person and a smooth dispense,

He has a person and a smooth dispense,
To be suspected, fram'd to make women false :

To be suspected, fram'd to make women false :
The Moore a free and open nature too,

The Moore a free and open nature too,
That thinkes men honest, that but seems to be so :

That thinkes men honest, that but seems to be so :
And will as tenderly be led bit'n nose --- as Afles are.

And will as tenderly be led bit'n nose --- as Afles are,
I ha't, it is ingender'd : Hell and night

I ha't, it is ingender'd : Hell and night
Muft bring this monstrous birth to the worlds light.

Excite

## Actus 2.

### Scena 1.

Enter Montanio, Gouernor of Cypres, with
two other Gentlemen.

Montania.

Hat from the Cape can you discerne, at Sea ?
WV

I cannot twixt the hauen and the mayne
1 Gent. Nothing at all, it is a high wrought flood,

I cannot twixt the hauen and the mayne
Desery a faile.

Mon. Me thinkes the wind does fpeake aloud at land,
A fuller blast ne're fooke our Battlements :
If it ha' ruffiand so vpon the sea,

A fuller blast ne're fooke our Battlements :
If it ha' ruffiand so vpon the sea,
What ribbes of Oake, when the huge mountaines mes it,

Can

Can hold the morties, --- What shall we heare of this ?

2 Gent. A segregation of the *Turkish* Fleete :

For doe but stand vpon the banning shore,

The chiding billow seems to pelt the clouds,

The wind that k'd purge, with high and monſtrous mayne,

Scemes to caft water, on the burning Beare,

And quench the guards of th' European pole,

I neuer did, like moletation view,
On the inchafed flood.

Mon. If that the *Turkish* Fleete

Be not inſhelter'd, and embayed, they are drown'd,

It is inſpossible they bear it out.

Enter a third Gentleman.

3 Gent. Newes Lords, your warres are done :

The desperate Tempelt hath so hang'd the *Turk*,

That their defignement halts Another shippe of *Venice* hath leene

A greenous wracke and ſufferance

On moſt part of the Fleete.

Mon. How, is this true?

3 Gent. The shippe is heere put in :

A Veroncſa, Michael Gaffio,

Leiutenant to the warlike Moore Othello,

Is come afhore : the Moore himselfe at Sea,

And is in full Commiflion here for Cypres,

Mon. I am glad on't, tis a worthy Gouernour.

3 Gent. But this ſame Gaffio, tho he fpeake of comfort,

Touching the *Turkish* lofle, yet he looks ſadly,

And prayes the Moore be ſafe, for they were parted,

With foule and violent Tempelt.

Mon. Pray Heaven he be :

For I haue seru'd him, and the man commands

Like a full Souldier :

Lets to the sea ſide, ho,

As well to ſee the vessel that's come in.

D 3

As

The Tragedy of Othello

22

As to throw out our eyes for braue Othello.

3 Gent. Come, lets do so,

For euery minute is expectancy

Of more arruance,

Enter Cassio.

Caf. Thankes to the valiant of this worthy Ille,
That so approue the Moore, and let the heauens
Gieue him defence against their Elements,
For I haue loft him on a dangerous sea.

Mon. Is he well ship't ?

Caf. His Barke is stoutly timberd, and his Pilate
Of very expert and approu'd allowance,
Therefore my hope's not surfeited to death,

Stand in bold cure.

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. A faile, a faile, a faile.

Caf. What noyse?

Mess. The Towne is empty, on the brow o'th sea,
otand ranckes of people, and they cry a fayle.

Caf. My hope's doe shape him for the guernement.

2 Gent. They doe discharge the shot of courtesie,
Our friend at leaft.

A shot.

Caf. I pray you fir goe forth,
And giue vs truth, who tis that is arriu'd.

2 Gent. I shall.

Exit.

Mon. But good Leiutenant, is your Generall wiu'd?

Caf. Moft fortunately, he hath atchieu'd a maide,
That parragons description, and wild fame:

One that excells the blafoning pens,

And in the effentiall vellure of creation,

Does beare all excellency: how, who has put in?

Enter 2. Gentlemen.

2 Gent. Tis one Iago, ancient to the Generall,
He has had moft fauourable and happy Speede,

Tempefts themfelues, by feas, and houling winde,

The guttered rocks, and congregated fands,

Traitors enfepered, to clog the guiltlesſe Keele,

As hauing fence of beauty, do omit

Their common natures, letting goe safely by

The

The Moore of Venice.

23

The divine Desdemona.

Mon. What is he ?

Caf. She that I spoke of, our great Captains Captaine,
Left in the conduct of the bold Iago.

Whose footing here anticipates our thoughts

A fennights ſpeede --- great Ioue Othello guard,

And ſwell his faile with thine owne powerfull breath,

That he may bleſſe this Bay with his tall ſhippe,

And swifly come to Desdemona's armes.

Enter Desdemona, Iago, Emillia, and Roderigo.

Gieue renewd fire,

To our extincted ſpirits.

And bring all Cypreſſe comfort, --- O behold

The riches of the ſhip is come afshore.

Ye men of Cypres, let her haue your knees :

Haile to thee Lady : and the grace of heauen,

Before, behinde thee, and on euery hand,

Enwheelc thee round.

Desd. I thanke you valiant Caffio :

What tidings can you tell me of my Lord ?

Caf. He is not yet arriu'd, nor know I ought,

But that hee's well, and will be shortly here.

Desd. O but I feare : --- how loſt you company?

[witlein.]

A faile, a faile.

Caf. The great contention of the ſea and skies
Parted our fellowship : but harke, A faile.

2 Gent. They giue their greering to the Cittadell,
This likewife is a friend.

Caf. So ſpeaks this voyce :

Good Ancient, you are welcome, welcome Miftreſſe,

Let it not gall your patience, good Iago,

That I extend my manners, tis my breeding,

That giues me this bold ſhew of courtesie.

Iago. For would ſhe giue you ſo much of her lips,

As of her tongue, ſhe has beſtowed on me,

You'd haue enough.

D 4

Desd.

The Tragedy of Othello

24

Def. Alas! shee has no speech.

Iag. I know too much:

I finde it, I; for when I ha' lift to sleepe,

Mary, before your Ladiship I grant,

She puts her tongue a little in her heart,

And chides with thinking,

Em. You ha' little cause to say so.

Iag. Come on, Come on, you are Pictures out adores:

Bells in your Parlors: Wildcats in your Kitchins:

Saints in your iniuries: Diuells being offended:

Players in your houfwiſery; and houſwiues in your beds.

O fie vpon thee ſlanderer.

Iag. Nay, it is true, or else I am a Turke,

You rife to play, and goe to bed to worke.

Em. You ſhall not write my praise.

Iag. No, let me not.

Desd. What wouldst thou write of me,

If thou shouldst prais me?

Iag. O gentle Lady, doe not put me to't,

For I am nothing, if not Critical.

Desd. Come on, affay -- there's one gone to the Harbor?

Iag. I Madam.

Desd. I am not merry, but I doe beguile

The thing I am, by feeming otherwife :

Come, how wouldst thou prais me?

Iag. I am about it, but indeed my invention

Comes from my pate, as birdhime does from freeze,

It plucks out braine and all: but my Mufe labors,

And thus she is deliuer'd:

If she be faire and wife, faireneſſe and wit;

The one's for vſe, the other vſing it.

Desd. Well prais'd: how if she be blacke and witty?

Iag. If she be blacke, and thereto have a wit,

Shee finde a white, that shall her blackneſſe hit.

Desd. Worſe and worſe.

Em. How if faire and foolish?

Iag. She neuer yet was foolish, that was faire,

For

The Moore of Venice.

25

For euen her folly helpt her, to a haire.

Des. These are old paradoxes, to make fooles laugh it the Alchouſe,
What miserable prauife haſt thou for her,
That's foule and foolish?

Iag. There's none so foule, and foolish thereunto,
But does foule prankes, which faire and wife ones doe.

Desd. O heavy Ignorance, that prauſes the worſt beſt : but what
prauſe couldst thou beſtow on a deferuing woman indeed? one,
that in the authority of her merrits, did iuſtly put on the vouch of
very malice it ſelfe?

Iag. She that was cuer faire, and neuer proud,

Had tongue at will, and yet was neuer lowd,

Neuer lackt gold, and yet went neuer gay,

Fled from her with, and yet ſaid, now I may :

She that being angred, her reuenge being nigh,

Bad her wrong ſtay, and her diſpleasure flye;

She that in wifedome, neuer was so fraile,

To change the Codlhead for the Salmons taile.

She that could thinke, and ne're diſcloſe her minde,

She was a wight, if euer ſuch wight were.

Des. To doe what?

Iag. To ſuckle fooles, and chronicle ſmall Beere.

Des. O moſt lome and impotent conclusion :

Do not leane of him Emilia, tho he be thy husband;

How ſay you Caffio, is he not a moſt prophane and liberall

Counſellour?

Caf. He speaks home Madam, you may rellish him
More in the Souldier then in the Scholler.

Iag. He takes her by the palme; I well ſed, whisper: as little a
webbe as this will enſare: as great a Flee as Caffio. I smile vpon
her, doe: I will catch you in your owne courtesies: you ſay true,
tis ſo indeed. If ſuch trickes as theſe, strip you out of your Leiute-
nantry, it had beene better you had not rilft your three fingers ſo off,
which now againe, you are moſt apt to play: the fir in: good, well
kilt, an excellent courtesie; tis ſo indeed: yet againe, your fingers at
your lips? Would they were Clifterpipes for your ſake. --- The
Moore, I know his Trumpet.

F

Trumpets within.

Enter

26

The Tragedy of Othello

Enter Othello, and Attendants.

Caf. Tis truely so.

Def. Lets meete him, and receiue him.

Caf. Loe, where he comes.

Oth. O my faire Warriour.

Def. My deare Othello.

Oth. It giues me wonder great as my content,
To see you here before me: O my soules ioy,
If after euery tempeft, come such calmeneſſe,
May the winds blow, till they haue wakened death,
And let the labouring Barke clime hills of ſeas,
Olympus high, and duck againe as low,
As hell's from Heauen: If it were now to dye,
T'were now to be moſt happy, for I ſeare
My soule hath her content ſo absolute,
That not another comfort, like to this
Succeeds in vnknowne Fate,

Def. The Heauens forbid,
But that our loues and comforts ſhould increafe,
Euen as our dayes doe growe.

Oth. Amen to that sweete power,
I cannot speake enough of this content,
It ſtops me here, it is too much of joy:
And this, and this, the greatest diſord be,
That ere our hearts ſhall make.

Iag. O, you are well tun'd now,
But I'le set downe the pegs, that make this muſiqu,
As honcſt as I am.

they kiffe.

Oth. Come, let vs to the Caſſle:
Newes friends, our warres are done, the Türks are drowne:
How doe our old acquaintance of the Isle;
Honny, you ſhall be well deſir'd in Cypres;
I haue found great loue amongst them: O my sweete,
I prattle out of fashion, and I dote,
In mine one comforts: I preethee good Iago,
Goe to the Bay, and diſimbarke my Coſſers;
Bring thou the Maſter to the Citadell;

He

27

The Moore of Venice.

He is a good one, and his worthinesſe,
Does challenge much respect: come Desdemona,
Once more well met at Cypres.

Exit.

Iag. Doe thou meete me prefently at the Habour: come hither,
If thou beſt valiant, as they ſay, bafe men being in loue, haue then
a Nobility in their natures, more then is natine to them --- lift me,
the Lieutenant to night watches on the Court of Guard: firſt I will
tell thee, this Desdemona is directly in loue with him.

Rod. With him? why tis not poffible.

Iag. Lay thy finger thus, and let thy soule be inſtructed : make me, with what violence ſhe firſt lou'd the Moore, but for bragging, and telling her fantasſical lies ; and will ſhe loue him ſtill for prating? Let not the diſcreet heart thinke so. Her eye muſt be fed, and what delight ſhall ſhe haue to look on the Diuell? When the blood is made dull with the act of ſport, there ſhould be againe to inflame it, and giue ſociety a freeh appetite. Loue lines in ſaunce, ſympathy in yeares, manners and beauties; all which the Moore is defective in: now for want of these requir'd conueniences, her delicate tenderneſſe will finde it ſelte abus'd, beginne to heaue the gorge, diſreſſa and abhorre the Moore, very nature will inſtruct her to it, and compell her to ſome ſecond choyce: now firſt, this granted, as it is a moſt pregnant and vnforced poſition, who ſtands ſo eminently in the degree of this fortune, as Caffio does ? a knaue very voluble, no farder conſionable, then in putting on the meere forme of ciuill and handfeeming, for the better compassing of his ſalt and hidden affeſtions: A ſubtle slippery knaue, a ſinder out of occasions; that has an eye, can ſtampe and counterfeit the true aduantages neuer preſent themſelues. Befides, the knaue is handsome, yong, and hath all those requisites in him that folly and green mindes look after; a peſtilent complicate knaue, and the woman has found him already.

Rod. I cannot beleeue that in her, ſhe's full of moſt bleſt condition.

Iag. Bleſt figs end: the wine ſhe drinkes is made of grapes: if ſhe had been bleſt, ſhe would neuer haue lou'd the Moore. Didſt thou not ſee her paddle with the palme of his hand?

Rod. Ye, but that was but courteſe.

Iag, Lechery, by this hand: an Index and prologue to the history,

E 2

The Tragedy of Othello

28

Story of luft and foule thoughts: they met so neere with their lips,
that their breathes embrac'd together. When these mutualities
so marshall the way, hand at hand, comes the maine exercise, the in-
corporate conclusion. But fir, be you rul'd by mee, I haue brought
you from *Venice*: watch you to night, for your command I'llay'
vpon you, *Caffio* knowes you not, I'll not be farre from you, do you
finde some occasion to anger *Caffio*, either by speaking too loud, or
tainting his discipline, or from what other caufe you pleafe; which
the time shall more fauourably minifter.

Rod. Well.

Iag. Sir he is rafh, and very fuddain in choler, and haply with his
Trunchen may strike at you; prouoke him that he may, for euen out
of that, will I caufe these of *Cypres* to mutiny, whose qualification
shall come into no true truſt again't, but by the displanting of *Caffio*:
So shall you haue a ſhorter journey to your deſires by the meanes I
ſhal then hatte to prefer them, & the impediment, moſt profitably re-
mou'd, without which there were no expectation of our proſperity.

Rod. I will do this, if I can bring it to any opportunity.

Iag. I warrant thee, meete me by and by at the Cittadell; I muſt
fetch his neceſſaries aſhore. --- Farewell.

Rod. Adue.

Exit.

Iag. That *Caffio* loues her, I doe well beleeue it;
That the loues him, tis apt and of great credit;
The Moore howbeit, that I indure him not,
Is of a constant, noble, louing nature;
And I dare thinke, hee le prone to *Desdemona*,
A moſt deere husband: now I doe loue her too,
Not out of absolute luft, tho peraduenture.
I stand accountant for as great a fin,
But partly lead to diet my reuenge,
For that I doe suspect the luſtful Moore,
Hath leapt into my ſeate, the thought whereof
Doth like a poisonous minerall guaw my inwards,
And nothing can, nor ſhall content my loule,
Till I am even with him, wife, for wife:
Or failing so, yet that I put the Moore,
At least, into a lealouſe ſo strong,

That

The Moore of Venice.

29

That Iudgement cannot cure; which thing to doe,
If this poore rafh of *Venice*, whom I crush,
For his quicke hunting, ſtand the putting on,
I'le haue our *Michael Caffio* on the hip,
Abufe him to the Moore, in the ranke garbe,
(For I ſeare *Caffio*, with my nightcap to)
Make the Moore thanke me, loue me, and reward me,
For making him egregiouſly an Aſſe,
And prætifing vpon his peace and quiet,
Euen to madneſſe: tis here, but yet confus'd,
Knaueries plaine face is neuer ſeene, till vs't.

Exit.

Enter a Gentleman reading a Proclamation.

It is *Othello's* pleasure; our noble and valiant Generall, that vpon certaine tidings now arrıu'd, importing the meere perdition of the *Turkish* Fleete; that euery man put himselfe into triumph: Some to dance, some make bonefires; each man to what ſport and Reuels his minde leades him; for besides these beneficial newes, it is the celebration of his Nuptialts: So much was his pleasure ſhould bee proclaimed. All Offices are open, and there is full liberty, from this preſent houre of ſiue, till the bell hath told eleuen. Heauen bleſſe the Ille of *Cypres*, and our noble Generall *Othello*.

Enter Othello, Caffio, and Desdemona.

Oth. Good Michael, looke you to the guard to night,
Let's teach our ſelues the honourable ſtoppe,
Not to our ſport diſcretion.

Caf. Iago hath directed what to doe:
But notwithſtanding with my perſonall eye
Will I looke to it.

Oth. Iago is moſt honest,
Michael good night, to morrow with your earliest,
Let me haue ſpeech with you, come my deare loue,
The purchase made, the fruits are to eueſe,

E 3

The

The Tragedy of Othello

30

The profits yet to come twixt me and you,

Good night.

Enter Iago.

Caf. Welcome Iago, we must to the watch.

Iago. Not this hour Leiutenant, tis not yet ten o'clock: our General caft vs thus early for the lque of his Desdemena, who let vs not therefore blame, hee hath not yet made wanton the night with her; and she is sport for Ioue.

Caf. She is a most exquisite Lady.

Iago. And I'll warrant her full of game.

Caf. Indeed she is a most fresh and delicate creature.

Iago. What an eye she has?

Me thinkes it founds a partly of prouocation.

Caf. An inuiting eye, and yet me thinkes right moddest.

Iago. And when she speaks, tis an alarme to loue.

Caf. It is indeede perfection.

Iago. Well, happinesse to their sheetes --- come Leiutenant, I haue a stope of Wine, and heere without are a brace of Cypres Gallants, that would faire haue a measure to the health of the blacke Othello.

Caf. Not to night, good Iago; I haue very poore and vnhappy braines for drinking: I could well with courtesie would inuent some other custome of entertainement.

Iago. O they are our friends, --- but one cup: I'll drink for you.

Caf. I ha drunke but one cup to night, and that was craftily quahified to, and behold what innuation it makes here: I am vnfortunate in the infirmity, and dare not taske my weakenesse with any more.

Iago. What man, tis a night of Reuells, the Gallants desire it.

Caf. Where are they?

Iago. Here at the dore, I pray you call them in.

Caf. I'll do't, but it dislikes me.

Exit.

Iago. If I can fasten but one cup vpon him,

With that which he hath drunke to night already,
He'll be as full of quarrell and offence,

As my young mistris dog: --- Now my fique foole Roderigo,
Whom loue has turn'd almost the wrong fide outward,

To

The Moore of Venice.

31

To Desdemona, hath to night carouft

Potations pottle deepe, and hee's to watch

Three lads of Cypres, noble swelling spirits.

That hold their honour, in a wary distance,
The very Elements of this warlike Isle.

Hae I to night fluftred with flowing cups,

And the watch too: now mongst this flocke of drunkards,
I am to put our Caffio in some action,

That may offend the Isle;

Enter Montanio, Caffio,

But here they come:

and others.

If consequence doe but APPROOUE my dreame,

My boate failes freely, both with winde and streame.

Caf. Fore God they haue given me a rouse already.

Mon. Good faith a little one, not paft a pint,

As I am a fouldier.

Iago. Some wine ho :

And let me the Cannikin clinke, clinke,

And let me the Cannikin clinke, clinke :

A Souldier's a man, a life's but a span,

Why then let a fouldier drinke. --- Some wine boyes,

Caf. Fore God an excellent long.

Iago. I learn'd it in England, where indeed they are most potent in potting: your Dane, your Germaine, and your Swag-bellied Hollander; drinke ho, are nothing to your English.

Caf. Is your English man so expert in his drinking ?

Iago. Why he drinkes you with facillity, your Dane dead drunke: he sweats not to ouerthrow your Almaine; he gives your Hollander a vomit, ere the next pottle can be fild.

Caf. To the health of our Generall.

Mon. I am for it Leiutenant, and I will doe you justice.

Iago. O sweete England, --- King Stephen was a worthy peere,

His breeches coft him but a crowne,

He held 'em fixpence all too deere,

With that he cald the Taylor lowne,

He was a weight of high renowne,

And thou art but of low degree,

This pride that pulls the Connirey downe,

Then take this owd cloke about thee. --- Some wine ho,

E 4

Caf.

The Tragedy of Othello

32

Caf. Fore God this is a more exquifite song then the other.

Iag. Will you hear't agen?

Caf. No, for I hold him vnworthy of his place, that does those
things: well, God's aboue all, and there brie soules that must bee
faused.

Iag. It is true good Leiutenant.

Caf. For mine own part, no offence to the Generall, nor any man
of quality, I hope to be faused.

Iag. And so doe I Leiutenant.

Caf. I, but by your leane, not before me; the Leiutenant is to be
faused before the Ancient. Let's ha no more of this, let's to our af-
faures: God forgive vs our fins: Gentlemen, let's looke to our busi-
neſſe; Doe not thinke Gentlemen I am drunke, this is my Ancient,
this is my right hand, and this is my left hand: I am not drunke now,
I can stand well enough, and speake well enough.

All. Excellent well.

Caf. Very well then: you muſt not thinke, that I am drunke. Ex.

Mon. To the plotforme maſters. Come, let's fet the watch.

Iag. You see this fellow that is gone before,
He is a Souldier fit to stand by Caſar,
And giue direction: and doe but fee his vice,
Tis to his vertue, a just equinox,
The one as long as th'other: tis pitty of him,
I feare the truſt Othello put him in,
On some odde time of his infirmity.
Will shake this Island.

Mon. But is he ofren thus.

Iag. Tis euermore the Prologue to his ſleepe:
Hee'le watch the horolodge a double ſet,
If drinke rocke not his cradle.

Mon. Twere well the Generall were put in minde of it,
Perhaps he fees it not, or his good nature,
Praifes the vertues that appears in Caſſio,
And locke not on his euill's: is not this true?

Iag. How now Roderigo,
Ipray you after the Leiutenant, goe.

Mon. And tis great pitty that the noble Moore

Enter Roderigo.
Exit Roderigo.

ſhould

The Moore of Vene.

33

Should hazard ſuch a place, as his owne ſecond,
With one of an ingraft infirmity:
It were an honest action to ſay so to the Moore.

Iag. Nor I, for this faire Island:

I doe loue Caſſio well, and would doe much,
To cure him of this euill: but harke, what noyſe.
Helpe, helpe, within*

Enter Caſſio, drinking in Roderigo.

Caf. Zouns, you rogue, you rafcall.

Mon. What's the matter Leiutenant?

Caf. A knaue, teach mee my duty: but I'll beat the knaue into
a wicker bottle.

Rod. Beat me?

Caf. Doeſt thou prate rogue?

Mon. Good Leiutenant; pray ſit hold your hand.

Caf. Let me goe fit, or ile knocke you ore the mazzard.

Mon. Come, come, you are drunke.

Caf. Drunke?

they fight.

Iag. Away I ſay, goe out and cry a muteny.
A bell rings.

Nay, good Leiutenant: godswill Gentlemen,
Helpe ho, Leiutenant: Sir Montanio, ſir,
Helpe maſters, here's a goodly watch indeed.

Who's that rings the bell? Diablo --- ho,
The Towne will rife, godswill Leiutenant, hold,
You will be sham'd for euer.

Enter Othello, and Gentlemen with weapons.

Oth. What is the matter here?

Mon. Zouns, I bleed ſtill, I am hurt, to the death.

Oth. Hold, for your liues.

Iag. Hold, hold Leiutenant, Sir Montanio, Gentlemen,
Haue you forgot all place of ſence, and duty:
Hold, the Generall ſpeaks to you; hold, hold, for ſhame.

Oth. Why how now ho, from whence ariles this,
Are we turn'd Turkes, and to put ſlues to that?

Which Heauen has forbid the Othamites.

F

For

The Tragedy of Othello

34

For Christian shame, put by this barbarous brawling;
He that stirres next, to carve forth his owne rage,
Holds his foule light, he dies vpon his motion;
Silence that dreadfull bell, it frights the Ille
From her propriety: what's the matter masters?
Honest Iago, that looks dead with grieuing,
Speake, who began this, on thy loue I charge thee.

Iago. I doe not know, friends all but now, euen now,
In quarter, and in termes, like bride and groome,
Deuefting them to bed, and then but now,
As if some plannet had vnwitted men,
Swords out, and tilting one at others breast,
In opposition bloody. I cannot speake
Any beginning to this peecuith odds;
And would in action glorious, I had left
These leggges, that brought me to a part of it.

Oth. How came it Michael, you were thus forgot?

Caf. I pray you pardon me, I cannot speake.

Oth. Worthy Montanio, you were wont be ciuill,
The gravity and tillesse of your youth,
The world hath noted, and your name is great,
In men of wiser cenure: what's the matter
That you volace your reputation thus,
And spend your rich opinion, for the name
Of a night brawler? giue me answer to't?

Mon. Worthy Othello, I am hurt to danger,
Your Officer Iago can informe you,
While I spare his speech, which something now offends me,
Of all that I doe know, nor know I fought
By me, that's fed or done amisse this night,
Vnlesse selfe-charity be sometime a vice,
And to defend ourselues it be a sinne,
When violence affayles vs.

Oth. Now by heauen,
My blood begins my safer guides to rule,
And passion having my belief in question,
Affayles to lead: the way, Zonys, if it were

Or

The Moore of Venice.

35

Or doe but lift this arme, the beft of you
Shall finke in my rebuke: giue me to know
How this foule rout began, who set it on,
And he that is approu'd in this offence,
Tho he had twind with me, both at a birth,
Shall loose me; what, in a Towne of warre,
Yet wild, the peoples hearts brim full of seare,
To mannage priuate and domesticke quarrels,
In night, and on the Court and guard of safety?
Tis monſtrous. Iago, who began?

Mon. If partiality affin'd, or league in office,
Thou doest deliuer, more or leſſe then truth,
Thou art no ſouldier.

Iago. Touch me not so neere,
I had rather ha this tongue out from my mouth,
Then it should doe offence to Michael Caffio:
Yet I perſwade my ſelfe to ſpeake the truth,
Shall nothing wrong him. Thus it is Generall:
Montanio and my ſelfe being in ſpeech,
There comes a fellow, crying out for helpe,
And Caffio following him with determin'd ſword,
To execute vpon him: Sir this Gentleman
Steps in to Caffio, and intreates his paſſe;
My ſelfe the crying ſellow did purſue,
Left by his clamour, as it ſo fell out,
The Towne might fall in fright: he swift of footes,
Out ran my purpope: and I returnd the rather,
For that I heard the clinke and fall of ſwords:
And Caffio high in oaths, which till to night,
I ne're might fee before: when I came backe,
For this was briefe, I found them close together,
At blow and thrust, euen as agen they were,
When you your ſelfe did part them.
More of this matter can I not report,
But men are men, the beſt sometimes forget;
The Caffio did some little wrong to him,
As men in rage strike those that wifh them beſt,

E 2

Yce

36 The Tragedy of Othello

Yet surely Caffio, I believe me receiv'd
From him that fled, some strange indignity,
Which patience could not passle.

Orb. I know Iago,
Thy honesty and loue doth mince this matter,
Making it light to Caffio: Caffio, I loue thee,
But neuer more be Officer of mine.
Looke if my Gentle loue be not raiſe vp:

I'll make thee an example.

Desd. What is the matter?

Orb. All's well now sweeting.

Come away to bed: fir, for your hurts,
My selfe will be your surgeon; leade him off;

Iago, looke with care about the Towne,

And silence thofe, whom this vile brawle diſtraſted.

Come Desdemona: tis the Souldiers life,

To haue their balmy slumberers wak'd with ſtrife,

Iago, What are you hurt Lieutenant?

Exit Moore, Desdemona, and attendants.

Caf. I, paſt all ſurgery.

Iago. Mary God forbid.

Caf. Reputation, reputation, I ha' loſt my reputation:
I ha' loſt the immortall part fir of my ſelfe,

And what remaines is beaſtiall, my reputation,

Iago, my reputation.

Iago. As I am an honest man, I thought you had receiv'd some
bodily wound, there is more offence in that, then in Reputation: re-
putation is an idle and moſt false imposſion, oft got without merit,
and loſt without deferuing. You haue loſt no reputation at all, vn-
leſſe you repute your ſelfe ſuch a loser; what man, there are wayes
to recouer the Generall age: you are but now caſt in his moode, a
puniflion more in policy, then in malice, euen ſo, as one would
beate his offenceleſſe dog, to affright an imperious Lyon: ſue to
him againe, and hees yours.

Caf. I will rather ſue to be despis'd, then to deceive so good a
Commander, with ſo light, ſo drunken, and indifcreete an Officer:
O thou inuſible ſpirit of wine, if thou haſt no name to bee knowne
by

37

by, let vs call thee Diuell.

Iago. What was he, that you followed with your sword?
What bad he done to you?

Caf. I know not.

Iago. I ſt poſſible?

Caf. I remember a maſſe of things, but nothing diſtinſtly; a
quarrell, but nothing wherefore. O God, that men should put an
enemy in there mouthes, to ſteale away there braines; that wee
should with ioy, Reuell, pleaſure, and applaſe, transforme our
ſelues into beaſts.

Iago. Why, but you are now well enough: how came you thus
recoouered?

Caf. It hath pleaſed the Diuell drunkenneſſe, to giue place to
the Diuell wrath; one vnperſe chenſſe, ſhewes me another, to make
me frankly ſeſpife my ſelfe.

Iago. Come, you are too ſeuere a morraler; as the time, the place,
the condition of this Countrey stands, I could heartily wifh, this
had not ſo befalne; but ſince it is as it is, mend it, for your own good,

Caf. I will aske him for my place againe, hee ſhall tell me I am a
drunkard: had I as many mouthes as Hydra, ſuch an anſwer would
ſtop em all: to be now a ſenſible man, by and by a ſoole, and pre-
fently a beaſt. Euery vnordinate cup is vnbleſt, and the ingredience
is a diuell.

Iago. Come, come, good wine is a good familiar creature, if it be
well vs'd; exclaine no more against it; and good Lieutenant, I
thinke you thinke I loue you.

Caf. I haue well approou'd it fir, --- I drunke?

Iago. You, or any man liuing may bee drunke at some time: I'll
tell you what you shall do, -- our Generals wife is now the Gene-
rall; I may ſay to in this reſpect, for that he has deuoted and giuen vp
him ſelfe to the contemplation, marke and deuotement of her parts
and graces. Conſeſſe your ſelfe freely to her, importune her, ſhewell
he p't to put you in your place againe: ſhe is ſo free, ſo kind, ſo apt,
ſo bleſſed a diſpoſition, that ſhee holds it a vice in her goodneſſe,
not to doe more then ſhee is requeſted. This braule betweene
you and her husband, intreate her to ſplinter, and my fortunes
against any lay, worth naming, this cracke of your loue
shall

F 3

shall grow stronger than twas before.

Caf. You auide me well.

Iag. I protest in the sincerity of loue and honest kindnesse.

Caf. I thinke it freely, and betimes in the morning, will I be
seech the vertuous Desdemona, to vndertake for me; I am desperate
of my fortunes, if they checke me here.

Iag. You are in the right :
Good night Leiutenant, I muft to the watch.

Caf. Good night honest Iago.

Exeunt.

Iag. And what's he then, that sayes I play the villaine,
When this aduice is free I giue, and honest,
Proball to thinking, and indeed the course,
To win the Moore agen ? For tis moft eafie
The inclining Desdemona to subdue,
In any honest suite, she's fram'd as fruitfull,
As the free Elements : and then for her

To win the Moore. wer't to renounce his baptisme,
All seales and symbols of redeemed fin,
His soule is so infetter'd to her loue,
That she may make, vnmake, doe what she lift,
Euen as her appetite shall play the god

With his weake function: how am I then a villaine ?
To counsell Caffio to this parrallell courtse.

Directly to his good : divinity of hell,
When diuells will their blackeft fins put on,
They doe suggeft at firſt with heauenly ſhewes,
As I doe now : for while this honest ſoole

Plyes Desdemona to repaire his fortunes,
And she for him, pleades strongly to the Moore :
I'le poure this peftilence into his eare,
That she repeales him for her bodyes luft;
And by how much she striues to doe him good,
She shall vndoe her credit with the Moore,
So will I turne her vertue into pitch,
And out of her owne goodneſſe make the net

That shall enmefh em all :

Enter Roderigo.

How now Roderigo?

Rod.

The Moore of Venice.

39

Rod. I do follow here in thechafe, not like a hound that hunts, but
one that filles vp the cry: my money is almost spent; I ha bin to night
exceedingly well cudgeld: I thinke the iffue will be, I shall haue so
much experience for my paines, as that comes to, and no money at
all, and with that wit returne to Venice.

Iag. How poore are they, that ha not patience ?
What wound did euer heale, but by degrees ?

Thou knoweſt we worke by wit, and not by wychcraft,
And wit depends on dilatory time.

Do't not goe well? Caffio has beaten thee,
And thou, by that small hurt, haſt caſheird Caffio,
Tho other things grow faire against the ſun,
But fruites that bloſome firſt, will firſt be ripe,
Content thy ſelſe awhile ; bi'the maſſe tis mornings;
Pleasure, and action, make the houres ſeeme ſhort:
Retire thee, goe where thou art bill ted,
Away I ſay, thou haſt know more hereafter :

Nay get thee gon. Some things are to be done,
My wife muſt moue for Caffio to her miſtris,
I'le fet her on.

Soliciting his wife : I, that's the way,

Dull not deuife by coldneſſe and delay.

Exeunt.

Enter Caffio with Musitians and the Clowne.

Caf. M Aſters, play here, I will content your paines,
Something that's brieſe, and bid good morrow Generall.

Clo. Why maſters, ha your instruments bin at Naples, that they
ſpeake i'the nose thus ?

Boy. How fir, How?

Clo. Are theſe I pray, cald wind Inſtruments ?

Boy. I marry are they fir :

Clo. O, thereby hangs a tayle.

Boy. Whereby hangs a tayle fir ?

Clo. Marry fir, by many a wide Inſtrument that I know : But
maſters,

The Tragedy of Othello

40

masters here's money for you, and the Generall so likes your mu-
sique, that hee defines you of all loues, to make no more noyfe
with it.

Boy, We'll sir, we will not.

Clo. If you haue any musique that may not bee heard, to't
againe, but as they faay, to heare musique, the Generall does not
greatly care.

Boy. We ha not such fir.

Clo. Then put your pipes in your bag, for I'll away; goe, va-
nish away.

Caf. Dofft thou heare my honest friend?

Clo. No, I heare not your honest friend, I heare you.

Caf. Preethee keepe vp thy quillets, there's a poore piece of
gold for thee: if the Gentlewoman that attends the Generals wife
be stirring, tell her there's one Caffisio, entreates her alittle fauour of
speech -- wilt thou doe this?

Clo. She is stirring fir, if she will stirre hither, I shall seeme to no-
tifie vnto her.

Enter Iago.

Caf. Doe good my friend: In happy time Iago.

Iago. You ha not bin a bed then.

Caf. Why no, the day had broke before we parted:
I ha made bold Iago, to send in to your wife, -- my suite to her,
Is, that she will to vertuous Defdemona,
Procure me some accesse.

Iago. Ile send her to you presently,
And Ile deuise a p[e]ane to draw the Moore
Out of the way, that your conference and businesse,
May be more free.

Exit.

Caf. I humbly thanke you for it: I neuer knew

A Florentine more kinde and honest:

Enter Emilla.

Em. Good morrow good Lieutenant, I am for you:
For your displeasure, but all will soone be well,
The Generall and his wife are talking of it,
And she speaks for you floutly: the Moore replies,
That he you hurt is of great fame in Cypres,
And great affinity, and that in whole some wife done,

gic

The Moore of Venice.

41

He might not but refuse you: but he proteets he loues you,
And needes no other suitor but his likings,
To take the safeft occasion by the front,
To bring you in againe.

Caf. Yet I befeech you,
If you thinke fit, or that it may be done,
Give me aduantage of some briefe discourse
With Defdemona alone.

Em. Pray you come in,
I will below you where you shall haue time,
To speake your bofome freely.

Exeunt.

Enter Othello, Iago, and other Gentlemen.

Obb. These letters giue Iago, to the Pilate,
And by him, doe my duties to the State;
That done, I will be walking on the workes,
Repaire there to me.

Iag. Well my good Lord, I'll do't.

Obb. This fortification Gentlemen, shall we see't?

Gent. We waite vpon your Lordship.

Exeunt.

Enter Defdemona, Caffisio and Emillia.

Def. Be thou affur'd good Caffisio, I will doe
All my abilities in thy behalfe.

Em. Good Madam do, I know it grieues my husband,
As if the cafe were his.

Defd. O that's an honest fellow: - do not doubt Caffisio,
But I will haue my Lord and you againe,
As friendly as you were.

Caf. Bounious Madame,
What euer shall become of Michael Caffisio,
Hee's neuer any thing but your true seruant.

Defd. O fir, I thanke you, you doe loue my Lord:
You haue knowne him long, and be you well affur'd,
He shall in ftrangeft, fstand no farther off,
Then in a politique distance.

G

Caf.

42 The Tragedy of Othello

Caf. I but Lady,
The pollicy may either laft so long,
Or fec de vpon such nice,and watrifi diet,
Or breed it felfe, fo out of circumftance,
That I being abſent,and my place ſupplied,
My Generall will forget my loue and ſeruice.

Defd. Doe not doubt that, before Emilia here,
I giue thee warrant of thy place; affure thee
If I doe vow a friendſhip,I'le performe it
To the laft Article; my Lord ſhall neuer reſt,
I'le watch him tame,and talke him out of patience
His bed ſhall ſeeme a Schoole,his boord a ſhrift,
I'le intermingle euery thing he does,
With Caffio's ſuite; therefore be merry Caffio,
For thy ſoiliſiter ſhall rather die,
Then giue thee cauſe: away.

Enter O:hello, Iago, and Gentlemen.

Em. Madam, here comes my Lord.
Caf. Madam, I'le take my leaue.
Defd. Why ſtay and heare me ſpeake.
Caf. Madam not now, I am very ill at ease,
Unfit for mine owne purpose.

Defd. Well, doe your diſcretion.

Exit Caffio.

Iag. Ha, I like not that.

Oth. What doſt thou ſay?

Iag. Nothing my Lord, or if, I know not what.

Oth. Was not that Caffio parted from my wife?

Iag. Caffio my Lord? -- no ſure, I cannot thinke it.

That he would ſneake away ſo guilty-like,
Seeing you comming.

Oth. I doe beleeue twas he.

Defd. How now my Lord,

I haue beene talking with a ſuiter here,
A man that languifhes in your diſpleaſure.

Oth. Who i'ft you meane?

Defd. Why your Leiutenant Caffio, good my Lord,

If

The Moore of Venice.

43

If I haue any grace or power to moue you,
His preſent reconſiſation take :

For if he be not one that truely loues you,
That erres in ignorancer, and not in cunning,
I haue no iudgement in an honest face,
I preethee call him backe.

Oth. Went he hence now?

Defd. Yes faith, ſo humbled,

That he has left part of his griefes with me,
I ſuffer with him; good loue call him backe.

Oth. Not now ſweete Defdemona ſome other time.

Defd. But ſhal't be ſhortly?

Oth. The sooner ſweete for you.

Defd. ſhall be to night at ſupper?

Oth. No, not to night.

Defd. To morrow dinner then?

Oth. I ſhall not dine at home,

I meete the Captaines, at the Cittadell.

Defd. Why then to morrow night, or Tuesday morne,
On Tuesday morne, or night, or Wednesday morne,
I preethee name the time, but let it not
Exceed three dayes : I ſaith hee's penitent,
And yet his trefſaffe, in our common reafon,
(Saue that they ſay, the warres muſt make examples,
Out of her beſt) is not almoſt a fault,

To incurre a priuate checke : when ſhall he come?

Tell me Othello: I wonder in my ſoule,
What you could aske me, that I ſhould deny?
Or ſtand ſo muttering on? What Michael Caffio?

That came a wooing with you, and ſo many a time
When I haue ſpoke of you diſpraſingly,
Hath tane your part, to haue ſo much to doe
To bring him in? Birlady I could doe much.

Oth. Preethee no more, let him come when he will,
I will deny thee nothing.

Defd. Why this is not a boone,
Tis as I ſhould intreate you weare your gloues :

G 2

Or

44

The Tragedy of Othello

Or feede on nourifhing diſhes, or keepe you warme,
Or ſue to you, to doe a peculiar profit
To your owne perſon : nay, when I haue a ſuite,
Wherein I meane to touch your loue indeed,
It ſhall be full of poſſe and difficulty,
And ſearefull to be granted.

Oth. I will deny thee nothing,
Whereon I doe beſech thee grant me this,
To leaue me but a little to my ſelfe.

Deſd. Shall I deny you? no, farewell my Lord.

Oth. Farewell my Deſdomona, I come to thee ſtraight.

Deſd. Evasiſtia, come, be it as your ſancies teach you,
What ere you be I am obedient. Exit Deſd. and Em.

Oth. Excellent wretch, perdition catch my ſoule,
But I doe loue thee, and when I loue thee not,
Chaos is come againe.

Iag. My noble Lord.

Oth. What doesſt thou ſay Iago?

Iag. Did Michael Caffisio when you wooed my Lady,
Know of your loue ?

Oth. He did from firſt to laſt : -- Why doesſt thou aske?

Iag. But for a ſatisfaction of my thoughts.

No further harme.

Oth. Why of thy thought Iago ?

Iag. I did not thinke he had beene acquaipted with her.

Oth. O yes, and went betweene vs very often.

Iag. Indeed?

Oth. Indeed : Indeed, diſcern't thou ought in that?

Is he not honest?

Iag. Honest my Lord?

Oth. Honest? I honest.

Iag. My Lord, for ought I know.

Oth. What doesſt thou thinke ?

Iag. Thinke my Lord?

Oth. Thinke my Lord ? By heauen he ecchoes me.

As if there were ſome monſter in his thought :
Too hideous to be ſhewne : thou didſt meane ſomething;
I heard thee ſay but now, thou lik'ſ not that,

When

The Moor of Venece.

When Caffisio left my wife : what didſt not like ?

And when I told thee, he was of my counſell,
In my whole course of wooing, thou cridſt indeed?

And didſt contract, and purſe thy brow together,
As if thou then hadſt shut vp in thy braine,

Some horrible counſell : if thou doesſt loue me,
Shew me thy thought.

Iag. My Lord, you know I loue you.

Oth. I thinke thou doesſt,

And for I know, thou art full of loue and honefly,
And weighſt thy words, before thou giue em breath,
Therefore the ſeops of thine affright me the more :

For ſuch things in a false, difſloyall knaue,
Are trickes of cuſtome; but in a man that's iuſt,

They are close denotements, working from the heart,
That paſſion cannot rule.

Iag. For Michael Caffisio,

I dare preſume, I thinke that he is honest,

Oth. I thinke ſo to.

Iag. Men ſhould be that they ſeeme,

Or that he be not, would they might ſeeme none.

Oth. Cerraine, men ſhould be what they ſeeme.

Iag. Why then I thinke Caffisio's an honest man.

Oth. Nay yet there's more in this,

I preethee ſpeake to me to thy thinkings :

As thou doesſt ruminate, and giue the worſt of thought,
The worſt of word.

Iag. Good my Lord pardon me;

Though I am bound to euery act of duty,
I am not bound to that all ſlaues are free to,
Vtter my thoughts ? Why, ſay they are vile and false:

As where's that pallace, whereinto ſoule things
Sometimes intrude not ? who has a breaſt ſo pure,

But ſome vncleanely apprehensions,
Keepe leetes and law-dayes, and in Session fit
With meditations lawfull?

Oth. Thou doesſt confpire against thy friend Iago,

G 3

If

40

The Tragedy of Othello

If thou but thinkest him wrong'd, and makest his eare
A stranger to thy thoughts.

Iag. I doe beleech you,

Though I perchance am vicious in my gheffe,
As I confess it is my nature's plague,

To spy into abufes, and oft my icalouſe

Shapes faults that are not, I intreate you then,
From one that is imperfectly conieats,

You'd take no notice, nor build your ſelſe a trouble,
Out of my ſcattering, and vnſure obſeruance;

It were not for your quiet, nor your good,

Nor for my manhood, honefly, or wifedome,

To let you know my thoughts,

Oth. Zouns.

Iag. Good name in man and woman's deere my Lord;
Is the immediate Iewell of our ſoules :

Who fleales my purſe, ſteals traſa, tis ſomething, nothing,
Twas mine, tis his, and has bin ſlaue to thouſands :

But he that filches from me my good name,
Rebs me of that, which not enriches him,

And makes me poore indeed.

Oth. By heauen I'll know thy thought.

Iag. You cannot, if my heart were in your hand,

Nor shall not, whilft tis in my cuſtody:

O beware icalouſe.

It is the greene eyd monſter, which doth mocke

That meate it feedes on. That Cuckold lies in blifſe,
Who certaine of his fate, loues not his wronger :

But oh, what damned minutes tells he ore,

Who dotes, yet doubts, ſulpeſts, yet ſtrongly loues.

Oth. O miſery.

Iag. Poore and content is rich, and rich enough,

But riches, ſinckelſe, is as poore as winter,

To him that euer feares he shall be poore :

Good God, the ſoules of all my tribe defend

From icalouſe,

Oth. Why, why is this ?

Thinkſt

47

The Moone of Venice.

Thinkſt thou I'd make a life of icalouſe ?

To follow ſtill the changes of the Moone

With fresh ſuſpitions ? No, to be once in doubt,

Is once to be refuſd : exchange me for a Goate,

When I ſhall turne the busineſſe of my ſoule

To ſuch exuſſicate, and blowne ſurmiſes,

Matching thy inference: tis not to make me icalous,

To ſay my wife is faire, feedes well, loues company,

Is free of ſpeech, ſings, playes, and dances well;

Where vertue is, theſe are more vertuous :

Nor from mine owne weake merrits will I draw

The ſmallest ſeare, or doubt of her reuolt,

For ſhe had ies, and choſe me: no Iago,

I'le fee before I doubt, when I doubt, proue,

And on the proofe, there is no more but this:

Away at once with loue or icalouſe.

Iag. I am glad of it, for now I ſhall haue reaſon,

To ſhow 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,

Looke to your wife, obſerue her well with Caffie;

Weare your eie thus, nor icalous, nor ſecure,

I would not haue your free and noble nature,

Out of ſelſe-bounty be abus'd, looke to't:

I know our Countrey diſpofition well,

In Venice they doe let God ſee the pranks.

They dare ſhow their husbands: their best conſcience,

Is not to leaue vndone, but keepe vnknowne.

Oth. Doeſt thou ſay so.

Iag. She did receiue her father marrying you;

And when ſhe ſeem'd to ſhake and ſeare your looks,
She low'd them moſt. Oth. And so ſhe did.

Iag. Why go too then,

She that is young, could giue out ſuch a ſeeming,

To ſeale her fathers eyes vp, close as Oake,

He thought twas witcheraſt: but I am much too blame,

I humbly doe beſeech you of your pardon,

G 4

For

The Tragedy of Othello

48

For too much louing you.

Oth. I am bound to thee for euer.

Iag. I see this hath a little daft your spirits.

Oth. Not a lot, not a lot.

Iag. Ifatch I feare it has.

I hope you will consider what is spoke,
Comes from my loue: But I doe see you are moou'd,
I am to pray you,not to ftraine my ſpeech,
To groler ilues, nor to larger reach,
Then to suspition.

Oth. I will not.

Iag. Should you doe so my Lord,
My ſpeech should fall into such vile ſucceſſe,
As my thoughts aime not at: Caffio's my truſt ſriend:
My Lord, I see you are moou'd.

Oth. No, not much moou'd,
I doe not thinke but Desdemona's honest.

Iag. Long liue ſhe ſo, and long liue you to thinke ſo.

Oth. And yet how nature erring from it ſelfe.

Iag. 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;
Fie we may ſmell in such a will, moſt ranke
Foule diſproportion: thoughts vnnaturall.
But pardon me: I do not in poſition,
Deſtinſtly ſpeake of her, tho I may ſeare
Her will recoyling to her better ſ judgement,
May fall to match you with her countrey ſormes,
And happily repent.

Oth. Farewell, if more
Thou doſt perceiue, let me know more, ſet on
Thy wife to obſerue: leaue me Iago.

Iag. My Lord I take my leaue.

Oth. Why did I marry ? This honest creature doubtlesſe
Sees and knowes more, much more then he vnſoulds.

My Lord, I would I might intreate your honour,

To

The Moore of Vence.

49

Iag. To can this thing no further, leaue it to time,
Tho it be fit, that Caffio haue his place,
For ſure he fills it vp with great ability:
Yet if you please to hold him off awhile,
You ſhall by that perceiue him and his meanes;
Note if your Lady ſtraine her entertainment,
With any ſtrong or vehement importunity,
Much will be ſene in that, in the meane time,
Let me be thought too buſe in my ſeares,
As worthy cauſe I haue, to ſeare I am ;
And hold her free, I doe beſeech your honour.

Oth. Feare not my government.

Iag. I once more take my leaue. Exit

Oth. This fellow's of exceeding honesty,
And knowes all qualities, with a learned ſpirit
Of humaine dealing : if I doe prooue her haggard,
Tho that her Iesſes were my deare heart ſtrings,
I'de whiſtle her off, and let her downe the wind,
To prey at fortune. Happily, for I am blacke,
And haue not thofe ſoft parts of converſation,
That Chamberers haue, or for I am deciſd !
Into the valt of yeares; yet that's not much,
Shee's gone, I am abus'd, and my releife
Muſt be to lothe her : O curſe of marriage,
That we can call theſe delicate creatures ours,
And not their appetites: I had rather be a Toade,
And liue vpon the vapor in a dungeon,
Then keepe a corner in a thing I loue,
For others ſſes : yet tis the plague of great ones,
Prerogatiu'd are they Ieſſe then the bafe,
Tis deſteny, vnſkaunnable, like death:
Euen then this forked plague is fated to vs,
When we quicken : Desdemona comes,
If she be false, O then heauen mocks it ſelfe,
I'le not beleeue it.

Enter Desdemona and Emilia.

Desd. How now my deare Othello?

H

Your

56 The Trageay of Othello

Your dinner, and the generous Ilander

By you invited, doe attend your presence,
Oth. I am to blame.

Oth. Why, what's that to you?

Def. Why is your speech so faint? are you not well?

Oth. I have a paine vpon my forehead, here.

Def. Faith, that's with watching, it will away againe;

Let me but bind your head, within this houre

It will be well againe.

Oth. Your napkin is too little:

Let it alone, come I'le goe in with you:

Def. I am very forsy that you are not well.

Em. I am glad I haue found this napkin, Ex. Oth. and
This was her firſt remembrance from the Moore, Defd.

My wayward husband, hath a hundred times

Wooed me to ſteale it, but ſhe ſo loues the token,

For he coniur'd her, ſhe should euer keepe it:

That ſhe reſerues it euER more about her,

To kiffe, and talke to; I'le ha the worke taine out,

And giu't Iago: what he'll doe with it,

Heauen knowes not I,

Exter. Iago.

I nothing know, but for his ſantafic.

Iag. How now, what doe you here alone?

Em. Doe not you chide, I haue a thing for you.

Iag. A thing for me, it is a common thing.

Em. Ha?

Iag. To haue a foolish thing.

Em. O, is that all? what will you give me now?

For that ſame handkercher?

Iag. What haudkercher?

Em. What handkercher?

Why that the Moore firſt gaue to Desdemona?

That which ſo often you did bid me kiffe,

Iag. Ha! ſtole it from her?

Em. No faith, ſhe let it drop by negligence,

And to the aduantage, I being here, took't vp:

Looke here it is.

Iag. A good wench, giue it me.

Em.

The Moore of Venice.

51

Em. What will you doe with it, that you haue bin
So carneſt to haue me filch it?

Iag. Why, what's that to you?

Em. If it be not for some purpose of import,
Gie mee't againe, poore Lady, ſhee'll run mad,
When ſhe shall lacke it.

Iag. Be not you knowne on't, I haue vſe for it: -- go leaue me;

I will in Caſſio's Lodging loſe this napkin,
And let him finde it: trifles light as ayre,

Are to the icalous, confirmations ſtrong

As proofes of holy writ, this may doe something,

Dangerous conceits are in their natures poisons,

Which at the firſt are scarce found to diſt aft.

But with a little art, vpon the blood,

Ent. Othello.

Burne like the mindes of ſulphure: I did ſay so:

looke where he comes, not Poppy, nor Mandragora,

Nor all the drouſe firrops of the world,

Shall euer medicine thee to that ſweete ſleepe,

Which thou owedſt yesterday.

Oth. Ha, ha, false to me, to me?

Iag. Why how now Generall? no more of that.

Oth. Auant, be gone, thou haſt fet me on the racke,
I ſweare, tis better to be much abus'd,

Then but to know a little.

Iag. How now my Lord?

Oth. What ſenſe had I of her ſtolne houres of luft:

I saw't not, thought it not, it harm'd not me,

I flept the next night well, was free, and merry;

I found not Caſſio's kiffes on her lips,

He that is rob'd, nor wanting what is ſtolne,

Let him not know't, and hee's not rob'd at all.

Iag. I am forſy to heare this.

Oth. I had bin happy if the generall Campe,
Pyoners, and all had taſted her ſweete body,

So I had nothing knowne: O now for euer

Farewell the tranquile mind, farewell consent:

Farewell the plumed troupe, and the big warres:

H 2

That

52

The Tragedy of Othello

That makes ambition vertue: O farewell,
Farewell the neighing Steed, and the shrill I Trumpe,
The spirit-stirring Drumme, the care-peering File;
The royall Banner, and all quality,
Pride, pompe, and circumference of glorious warre.
And O ye mortall Engines, whose wide throats,
The immortal Iones great clamor counterfeit;
Farewell, Othello's Occupation's gone.

Iag. Ift possible my Lord?

Oth. Villaine, be sure thou proue my Loue a whore,
Be sure of it, giue me the oculer proofe,
Or by the worth of mans eternall soule,
Thou hadst bin better haue beene borne a dog,
Then answer my wak'd wrath.

Iag. If come to this?

Oth. Make me to see't, or at the least so proue it.
That the probation, beare no hinge, nor loope,
To hang a doubt on: or woe vpon thy life.

Iag. My noble Lord.

Oth. If thou doest flander her, and torture me,
Neuer pray more, abandon all remorse.
On horrors head, horrors accumulate:
Do deeds, to make heauen weepe, all earth amaz'd,
For nothing canst thou to damnation ad greater then that.

Iag. O grace, O heauen defend me,
Are you a man, have you a soule or fence?
God buy you, take mine office, -- O wretched foole,
That liueth to make thine honesty a vice,
O monstrous world, take note, take note, O world,
To be direct and honest, is not safe,
I thanke you for this profit, and from hence,
I le loue no friend, since loue breedes such offence.

Oth. Nay, fay, thou shouldst be honest.

Iag. I should be wife, for honestie a foole,
And looses that it workes for:

I see fir, you are eaten vp with passion,
I doe repent me that I put it to you,

You.

53

The IVIIORE OF VERMICE.

You wou'd be satisfied.

Oth. Would, nay, I will.

Iag. And may, but how, how satisfied my Lord?
Would you, the superuifor groffely gape on,
Behold her topt?

Oth. Death and damnation -- oh.

Iag. It were a tedious difficulty I thinke,
To bring em to that proſpect, dam em then,
If euuer mortall eyes did fee them bouſler
More then their owne; what then, how then ?
What ſhall I ſay ? where's ſatisfaction ?
It is impoſsible you should fee this,
Were they as prime as Goates, as hot as Monkies,
As ſalt as W olues, in pride; and fooles as groſſe,
As ignorance made drunke: But yet I ſay,
If imputation and ſtrong circumſtanees,
Which leade directly to the doore of truth,
Will giue you ſatisfaction, you may ha't.

Oth. Giue me a liuing reaſon, that ſhee's diſloyall.
Iag. I doe not like the office,
But ſith I am enter'd into this cauſe, so farre,
Prickt to't by foolish honesty and loue,
I will goe on: I lay with Caffio lately,
And being troubled with a raging tooth, I could not sleep.

There are a kinde of men so loose of soule,
That in their sleepeſ will mutter their affaires,
One of this kinde is Caffio:
In sleepe I heard him ſay, Sweete Defdemona,
Let vs be merry, let vs hide our loues ;
And then fir, would he gripe and wring my hand,
Cry out, ſweete creature, and then kiffle me hard,
As if he pluckt vp kiffes by the rootes,
That grew vpon my lips, then layed his leg
Ouer my thigh, and ſigh'd, and kiffed, and then
Cried, curſed fate, that gaue thee to the Moore.

Oth. O Monſtrous, monſtrous.

Iag. Nay, this was but his dreame.

H 3

Oth.

The Tragedy of Othello

54

Oth. But this deputed a fore-gone conclusion,
Iag. Tis a shrewd doubt, tho it be but a dreame,
And this may helpe to thicken other proofes,
That doe demonstrate thinly.

Oth. I'le teare her all to pieces.
Iag. Nay, but be wife, yet we see nothing done,
She may be honest yet, tell me but this,
Hae you not sometimes feene a handkercher,
Spotted with strawberries in your wiues hand.

Oth. I gaue her such a one, twas my fiest gift.
Iag. I know not that, but such a handkercher,
I am sure it was your wiues, did I to day
See Caffio wipe his beard with.

Oth. If't be that,
Iag. If it be that, or any, it was hers,
It speaks against her, with the other proofes.

Oth. O that the flaue had forty thousand lies,
One is too poore, too weake for my reuence :
Now doe I see this time, looke here Iago,
All my fond loue, thus doe I blow to heauen,-- tis gone.
Arife blacke vengeance, from thy hollow Cell,
Yeeld vp O loue thy crowne, and harted Throne,
To tirranous hate, (well bofome with thy fraught,
For tis of Aspecks tongues.)

Iag. Pray be content. he kneecles.

Oth. O blood, Iago, blood.

Iag. Patience I say, your mind perhaps may change.

Oth. Neuer :
In the due reuence of a sacred vow,
I here ingage my words.

Iag. Doe not rife yet :
Witneſſe you euer-burning lights aboue,
You Elements that clip vs round about,
Witneſſe that here, Iago doth giue vp
The excellency of his wit, hand, heart,
To wrong'd Othello's ſenice : let him command,
And to obey, shall be remorce,

What

The Tragedy of Veneduc

55

VVhat bloody worke so euer.

Oth. I greete thy loue :
Not with vaine thankes, but with acceptance bounteous,
And will vpon the instant put thee to't,

VWithin these three dayes, let me heare thee ſay,
That Caffio's not aliuе,

Iag. My friend is dead:
Tis done as you requeſt, but let her live.

Oth. Dam her lewd minks: O dam her,
Come, goe with me apart, I will withdraw
To furnish me with some Swif't meanes of death,
For the faire diuell: now art thou my Leutenant.

Iag. I am your owne for euer.

Exeunt.

Enter Desdemona Emilia and the Clowne.

Des. Do you know Sirra, where the Lieutenant Caffio lies?

Clo. I dare not ſay he lies any where.

Des. VVhy man?

He is a Souldier, and for one to ſay a Souldier lies, is ſlabbing.

Des. Go to, where lodges he?

Clo. I know not where he lodges, and for me to deuife a lodging,
and ſay he lies there, were to lie in my throat.

Desd. Can you inquire him out, and be edified by report?

Clo. I will cathechize the world for him, that is, make queſtions
And by them anſwer.

Desd. Seeke him, bid him come hither, tell him I haue moued my
Lord in his behaſe, and hope all will be well.

Clo. To doe this is within the compaſſe of a man, and therefore
I'le attempt the doing of it.

Exit.

Desd. VVhere should I loose that handkercher Emilia?

Em. I know not Madam.

Des. Beleeue me, I had rather loose my purſe
Full of Cufadoes: and but my noble Moore
I true of minde, and made of no ſuch bafeſeſe,
As icalous creatures are, it were enough,
To put him to ill thinking.

Em. Is he not icalous :

H 4

Des.

56

The Tragedy of Othello

Def. Who he? I thinke the Sun where he was borne,
Drew all such humors from him. Enter Othello.

Em. Looke where he comes.

Def. I will not leaue him now,

Let Caffio be cald to him : how is it with you my Lord?

Oth. Well my good Lady : O hardnesse to dissemble :
How doe you Defdomona?

Def. Well, my good Lord.

Oth. Gue me your hand, this hand is moift my Lady.

Def. It yet has felt no age, nor knowne no sorrow.

Oth. This argues fruitfulnesse and liberall heart,

Not hot and moift, this hand of yours requires

A sequefter from liberty : fafting and praying,

Much caſtigation, exercise deuout ;

For heere's a young and ſwetting diuell here,

That commonly rebels : tis a good hand,

A franke one.

Def. You may indeed ſay so,

For twas that hand that gaue away my heart.

Oth. A liberall hand, the hearts of old gaue hands,

But our new herraldry is hands, not hearts.

Def. I cannot ſpeake of this, come, come, your promife.

Oth. What promife chucke ?

Def. I haue ſent to bid Caffio come ſpeake with you.

Oth. I haue a ſalt and ſullen ſhume offends me,

Lend me thy handkercher,

Def. Here my Lord.

Oth. That which I gaue you.

Def. I haue it not about me.

Oth. Nor.

Def. No faith my Lord.

Oth. That's a fauit : that handkercher

Did an *Egyptian* to my mother giue,

She was a charmer, and could almoſt reade

The thoughts of people; ſhe told her while ſhe kept it,

T'would make her amiable, and ſubdue my father

Intirely to her loue : But if ſhe loft it,

Or

The V grore of Venice.

57

Intirely to her loue : But if ſhe loft it,
Or made a gift of it : my fathers eye

Should hold her lothely, and his ſpirits should hunt

After new fancies: ſhe dying, gaue it me,

And bid me when my fate would haue me wittie,

To giue it her; I did so, and take heede on't,

Make it a darling, like your pretious eye,

To loose, or giue't away, were ſuch perdition,

As nothing else could match.

Def. I'ft poffible ?

Oth. Tis true, there's magieke in the web of it,

A Sybell that had numbed in the world,

The Sun to make two hundred compaſſes,

In her prophetique fury, ſowed the worke ;

The wormes were hallowed that did breed the filke,

And it was died in Mummy, with the skilfull

Conſerues of maidens hearts.

Def. Iſaith i'ſt true ?

Oth. Moſt veritable, therefore looke to't well.

Def. Then would to God, that I had neuer ſeene it.

Oth. Ha, wherefore?

Def. Why doe you ſpeake so startingly and rafely.

Oth. I'ſt loft ? i'ſt gone ? ſpeake, is it out o'the way?

Def. Heauen bleſſe vs.

Oth. Say you?

Def. It is not loft, but what and if it were?

Oth. Ha.

Def. I ſay it is not loft.

Oth. Fetch't, let me ſee it,

Def. Why so I can fir, but I will not now,

This is a tricke, to put me from my ſuite,

I pray let Caffio, be receiu'd againe.

Oth. Fetch me that handkercher, my mind miſgives.

Def. Come, come, youll neuer meere a more ſufficient man.

Oth. The handkercher.

Def. I pray talke me of Caffio.

Oth. The handkercher.

F

Def.

58 The Tragedy of Othello

Def. A man that all his time,

Hath founded his good fortunes on your loue,

Shard dangers with you.

Oth. The handkercher.

Def. IFAith you are too blame.

Oth. Zouns.

Exit.

Em. Is not this man icalous?

Def. I ne're saw this before:

Sure there's some wonder in this handkercher,

I am moft vnhappy in the loſſe.

Enter Iago and Caffio.

Em. Tis not a yeere or two ſhewes vs a man,

They are all but ſtomacks,and we all but foode;

They eate vs hungerly,and when they are full,

They belch vs; looke you, Caffio and my husband,

Iago. There is no other way, tis he muſt doe it,

And loe the happinesſe, goe, and importune her.

Def. How now good Caffio, what's the newes with you?

Caff. Madam, my former ſuite: I doe beſeech you,

That by your vertuous meanes, I may againe

Exiſt, and be a member of his loue,

Whom I, with all the duty of my heart,

Intirely honour, I would not be delayed:

If my offence be of ſuch mortall kind,

That neither ſeruice pаст, nor prefent ſorrowes,

Nor purpos'd merrit, in futurity

Can ranſome me, into his loue againe

But to know ſo, muſt be my benefit,

So ſhall I cloth me in a ſore'd content,

And ſhoote my ſelfe vp in ſome other course,

To fortunes almes.

Def. Alas thrice gentle Caffio,

My aduocation is not now in tune;

My Lord is not my Lord, nor should I know him,

Were he in fauour, as in humor altred.

So helpe me, euery ſpirit ſanctified,

As I haue ſpoken for you, all my beſt,

And

The Moore of Veneice.

59

And flood within the blanke of his diſpleasure,

For my free ſpeech: you muſt a while be patient,

What I can doe I will, and more I will

Then for my ſelfe I dare, let that ſuffice you.

Iago. Is my Lord angry?

Em. He went hence but now,

And certainly in ſtrange vnquietneſſe.

Iago. Can he be angry? I haue seene the Cannon,

When it hath blowne his rankes into the ayre,

And (like the Diuell) from his very armes,

Pufft his owne brother, and can he be angry?

Something of moment then: I will goe meete him,

There's matter in't indeed, if he be angry.

Defd. I preethee do ſo: something ſure of State,

Either from Venice, or ſome vnhatcht practice,

Made demonſtrable here in Cypres to him,

Hath pudled his cleere ſpirit, and in ſuch cafes

Mens natures wrangle with inferior things,

The great ones are the obiects,

Tis euen ſo: for let our finger ake,

And it endues our other heathfull members,

Euen to that ſence of paine; nay, we muſt thinke,

Men are not gods,

Nor of them looke for ſuch obseruances

As fits the Bridall: be ſhrew me much Ewilla,

I was (vnhandſome, warrior as I am)

Arraigning his vnkindenſſe with my ſoule;

But now I finde, I had ſubſhornd the witnessſe,

And hee's indited false.

Em. Pray heauen it be State matters, as you thinkes,

And no concepſion, nor no icalous toy.

Concerning you.

Defd. Alas the day, I neuer gaue him cauſe.

Em. But icalous ſoules, will not be anſwered so,

They are not euer icalous for the cauſe,

But icalous for they are icalous: tis a monster,

Begot vpon it ſelfe, borne on it ſelfe.

I 2

Def.

The Tragedy of Othello

60

Defd. Heauen keepe that monfter from Othello's mind.

Em. Lady, Amen.

Def. I will goe seeke him, Caffio, walke here about,
If I doe finde him fit, I'le move your suite, Exemnt Defd.
And seeke to effect it to my vttermoft, and Emilia.

Caf. I humbly thanke your Ladiship.

Bian. Saue you friend Caffio.

Enter Bianca.

Caf. What make you from home?

How is it with you my moft faire Bianca?

Ifaith I wceere loue I was comming to your houre.

Bian. And I was going to your Lodging Caffio;
What keepe a weeke away ? seuen daies and nights,
Eightcore eight houres, and louers absent houres,
More tedious then the diall, eightcore times,
No weary reckoning.

Caf. Pardon me Bianca,

I haue this while with laden thoughts bin preft,
But I shall in a more contenient time,
Strike off this core of absence: I wceere Bianca,
Take me this worke out.

Bian. Oh Caffio, whence came this ?

This is some token from a newer friend,
To the felt absence, now I feele a cause,
It come to this ?

Caf. Go to woman,

Throw your vile gheffes in the diuells teeth,
From whence you haue them, you are icalous now,
That this is from some mittrifle, some remembrance,
No by my faith Bianea,

Bian. Why who's is it?

Caf. I know not I wceere, I found it in my chamber,
I like the worke well, ere it be demanded,
As like enough it with, I'de haue it coppied,
Take it, and do't, and leane me for this time.

Bian. Leaue you, wherefore?

Caf. I doe attend here on the Generall,
And thinke it no addition, nor my wish,

To

The Moore of Venice.

61

To haue him see me woman'd.

Bian. But that you doe not loue me,
I pray you bring me on the way alittle,
And say, if I shall see you soone at night.

Caf. Tis but a little way, that I can bring you,
For I attend here, but I'l' see you soone.

Bian. Tis very good, I must be circumstanc'd.

Exemnt.

Actus. 4.

Enter Iago and Othello.

Iag. V ill you thinke so ?

Ob. Thinke so Iago.

Iag. What, to kiffe in private ?

Ob. An vnauthoriz'd kiffe.

Iag. Or to be naked with her friend abed,
An houre, or more, not meaning any harme.

Ob. Naked abed Iago, and not meane harme ?

It is hypocrisie against the diuell :
They that meane vertuouffly, and yet doe so,
The diuell their vertue tempts, and they tempt heauen:

Iag. So they doe nothing, tis a veniall flip;

But if I giue my wife a handkercher.

Ob. What then?

Iag. Why then tis hers my Lord, and being hers,
She may, I thinke, be stow't on any man.

Ob. She is proteetres of her honour to,
May she giue that?

Iag. Her honour is an effeace that's not seene,
They haue it very oft, that haue it not:

But for the handkercher.

Ob. By heauen, I would moft gladly haue forgot it:
Thou saidt (O it comes o're my memory,
As doth the Rauen o're the infested houre,

15

Boding

The Tragedy of Othello

62

Boding to all.) He had my hankcher.

Iag. I, what of that?

Oth. That's not so good now.

Iag. What if I had said I had seene him do you wrong?
Or heard him say (as knaes be such abroad)
Who bawing by their owne imporunate suite,
Or by the voluntaty dotage of some mistris,
Convinced, or supplied them, cannot chuse,
But they muft blab.

Oth. Hath he said any thing?

Iag. He hath my Lord, but be you well affur'd,
No more then hee's vnſweare.

Oth. What hath he ſayd?

Iag. Faith that he did-- I know not what he did.

Oth. But what? Iag, Lye.

Oth. With her?

Iag. With her, on her, what you will.

Oth. Lie with her, lie on her? We ſay lie on her, when they bely her; lye with her, Zouns, that's ſuſome; handkerchers, Confession, hankereders. He falt downe.

Iag. Worke on my medicine, worke: thus credulous fooles are caught, and many worthy and chaſte dames, euen thus all guiltlesſe, meete reproach; What ho my Lord, my Lord I ſay, Othello,-- how now Caſio. Enter Caſio.

Caſ. What's the matter ?

Iag. My Lord is ſalne into an Epilepsy,
This is his ſecond fit, he had one yefterday.

Caſ. Rub him about the Temples.

Iag. No, forbeare,
The Lethergie, muſt haue his quiet course,
If not he ſoames at mouth, and by and by

Breakes out to ſauage madneſſe: looke he stirres:
Doe you withdraw your ſelſe a little while,
He will recouer it straight, when he is gone,
I would on great occasion ſpeake with you.

How is it Generall, haue you not hurt your head?

Oth. Doeſt thou mocke me?

Iag.

The Moore of Venice.

63

Iag. I mocke you? no by Heauen,

Would you would bear your fortunes like a man,

Oth. A horned man's a monster, and a beaſt.

Iag. There's many a beaſt then in a populous City,
And many a ciuill monster.

Oth. Did he confeſſe?

Iag. Good fit be a man,
Thinke every bearded fellow, that's but yoak'd,
May draw with you, there's millions now aliue,
That nightly lies in those vnproper beds,
Which they dare ſweare peculiar: your caſe is better:
O tis the ſpite of hell, the fiends arch mocke,

To hip a wanton in a ſecure Coach,
And to ſuppofe her chaſte: No, let me know,

And knowing what I am, I know what ſhe shall be,

Oth. O thou art wife, tis certaine.

Iag. Stand you awhile apart,
Confine your ſelſe but in a patient lift:
Whilſt you were here ere while, mad with your griefe,

A paſſion moſt vnſuting ſuch a man,
Caſio came hither, I ſhifted him away,

And layed good ſcuse, vpon your extacy,
Bid him anon retire, and here ſpeake with me,

The which he promiſe : but incaue your ſelſe,

And marke the Ieeres, the libes, and notable ſcornes,
That dwell in every region of his face ;

For I will make him tell the tale anew,
Where, how, how oft, how long agoe, and when,

He has, and is againe to cope your wife :

I ſay, but marke his ieaſture, many patience,

Or I ſhall ſay, you are all in all, in ſpleene,

And nothing of a man.

Oth. Doeſt thou heare Iago,
I will be found moſt cunning in my patience;
But doeſt thou heare, moſt bloody.

Iag. That's not amiffle:
But yet keepe time in all; will you withdraw ?

I 4

Now

The Tragedy of Othello

64

Now will I question Caffio of Bianca;
A hufwife that by selling her desires,
Buys her selfe bread and cloathes : it is a Creature,
That dot es on Caffio : as tis the trumpets plague
To beguile many, and be beguild by one,
Ent. Caffio.
He, when he heares of her, cannot refraine
From the exceſſe of laughter : here he comes :

As he ſhall ſmile, Othello ſhall goe mad,
And his vnbookiſh ialouſe muſt conſter
Poore Caffio's ſmiles, geſtures, and light behauiour,
Quite in the wrong : How doe you now Leiutenant ?

Caf. The worſer, that you giue me the addition,
Whole want euen kills me.

Iag. Ply Desdemona well, and you are sure on't.
Now if this ſuite lay in Bianca's power,
How quickly should you ſpeed.

Caf. Alas poore Catiue.

Oth. Looke how he laughes already.

Iag. I neuer knew a woman loue man so.

Caf. Alas poore rogue, I thinke if aith ſhe loues me.

Oth. Now he denyes it faintly, and laughes it out.

Iag. Doe you heare Caffio?

Oth. Now he importunes him to tell it on,

Goe to, well ſaid.

Iag. She giues it out that you ſhall marry her,
Doe you intend it?

Caf. Ha, ha, ha.

Oth. Doe you triumph Roman, doe you triumph?

Caf. I marry her? I prethee beare some charity to my wit,
Doe not thinke it so vnwholesome : ha, ha, ha.

Oth. So, so, so, so, laugh that wins.

Iag. Faith the cry goes, you ſhall marry her.

Caf. Preethee ſay true.

Iag. I am a very villaine elfe,

Oth. Ha you ſtor'd me well.

Caf. This is the monksies own giuing out; ſhe is perfwaded I will
marry her, out of her owne loue and flattery, not out of my promife.

Oth.

65

The Moore of Venice.

Oth. Iago beckons me, now he begins the story.

Caf. She was heere euen now, ſhee haunts me in euery place, I
was tother day, talking on the sea banke, with certaine Venetians, and
thither comes this bauble, by this hand ſhe fals thus about my neck.

Oth. Crying, O deere Caffio, as it were: his ieſture imports it.

Caf. So hangs, and lolls, and weepes vpon me; so hales, and puls
me, ha, ha, ha.

Oth. Now he tells how ſhe pluckt him to my Chamber,
I ſee that noſe of yours, but not that dog I shall throw't to.

Caf. Well, I muſt leaue her company.

Enter Bianca.

Iag. Before me, looke where ſhe comes,
Tis ſuch anotheriddle; marry a perfum'd one, what doe you meane
by this hanting of me.

Bian. Let the duel and his dam haunt you, what did you meane
by that ſame handkercher, you gaue mee euen now ? I was a fine
foole to take it; I muſt take out the whole worke, a likely peecce of
worke, that you should find it in your chamber, and not know who
left it there : this is ſome minxes token, and I muſt take out the
worke; there, giue it the hobby horſe, whereſoever you had it, I le
take out no worke on't.

Caf. How now my ſweete Bianca, how now, how now ?

Oth. By heauen that should be my handkercher.

Bian. An you'll come to ſupper to night, you may, an you will
not, come when you are next prepar'd for.

Exit.

Iag. After her, after her.

Caf. Faith, I muſt, ſhee'll raile i'the ſtreete elfe.

Iag. Will you ſup there?

Caf. Faith I intend so.

Iag. Well, I may chance to ſee you, for I would very faine ſpeake
with you.

Caf. Preethee come, will you?

Iag. Goe to, ſay no more.

Exit Caffio.

Oth. How ſhall I murder him Iago?

Iag. Did you perceiue, how he laughed at his vice?

Oth. O Iago,

Iag. And did you ſee the handkercher?

Oth. Was that mine?

K

Iag.

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66

Oth. I would haue him nine yeares a killing; a fine woman, a faire woman, a sweete woman.

Iag. Nay you muft forger.

Oth. And let her not and perisb, and be damb'd to night, for she shall not liue: no, my heart is turn'd to stone; I strike it, and it hurts my hand: O the world has not a sweeter creature, the mightie lie by an Emperours fide, and command him taskes.

Iag. Nay that's not your way.

Oth. Hang her, I doe but say what fae is: So delicate with her needle, an admirable munition, O shee will sing the faugereffle out of a Beare; of so hye and plentious wit and inuention.

Iag. Shee's the worfe for all this.

Oth. A thoufand thoufand times: and then of so gentle a condition.

Iag. I, too gentle.

Oth. I that's certaine, but yet the pitty in it, Iago, the pitty.

Ia. If you be so fond ouer her iniquity, giue her patent to offend, for if it touches not you, it comes neere no body.

Oth. I will chop her into melfes ---%/cuckold me!

Iag. O tis foule in her.

Oth. With mine Officer,

Iag. That's fouler.

Oth. Get me some poison Iago, this night I'le not exuoffulate with her, left her body and beauty vnprovide my minde agen, this night Iago.

Iag. Doe it not with poison? A strange her in a bed, upon the bed she hath contaminated.

Oth. Good, good, the iuſtice of it pleafes very good.

Iag. And for Caffio, let me bee his vndertaker: you, shall beare more by midnight.

A Trumpet.

Enter Lodouico, Desdemona, and Attendants.

Oth. Excellent good:

What Trumpet is that fame?

Iag. Something from Venice faire, to Lodouico,

Come from the Duke, and see your wife is with him.

Lod.

The Moore of Venice.

67

Lod. God faue the worthy Generall.

Oth. With all my heart fir.

Lod. The Duke and Senators of Venice greete you.

Oth. I kiffe the instrument of their pleafures.

Def. And what's the newes good couſen Lodouico?

Iag. I am very glad to see you Seignior: -- welcome to Cypres.

Lod. I thanke you, how does Lieutenant Caffio?

Iag. Liues fir.

Def. Couſen, there's falne betweene him and my Lord, An vakind breach, but you shall make all well.

Oth. Are you fure of that?

Def. My Lord.

Oth. This faile you not to doe, as you will.

Lod. He did not call, shee's bufie in the paper:

Is there diuifion betweene thy Lord and Caffio?

Def. A moſt vnhappy one, I would doe much

To attone them, for the loue I beare to Caffio.

Oth. Fire and Brimstone.

Def. My Lord.

Oth. Are you wife?

Defd. What, is he angry?

Lod. May be the letter mou'd him;

For as I thinke, they doe command him home,

Depuring Caffio in his gouernement.

Defd. By my troth, I am glad on't.

Oth. Indeed.

Def. My Lord.

Oth. I am glad to see you mad.

Def. How sweete Othello?

Oth. Diuell.

Def. I haue not deferu'd this:

Lod. My Lord, this would not be beleeu'd in Venice,

The I should fweare I faw't: tis very much,

Make her amends, she weepes.

Oth. O Diuell, Diuell,

If that the earth could teeme with women's teares

Each drop she falls, would proue a Crocadile:

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Out

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The Tragedy of Othello

Out of my fight.

Def. I will not stay to offend you.

Lod. Truely an obedient Lady :

I doe beſeech your Lordſhip, call her backe.

Oth. Miftrifſe.

Def. My Lord.

Oth. What would you with her fir ?

Lod. Who, I my Lord ?

Oth. I, you did wifh that I would make her turne :

Sir ſhe can turne, and turne, and yet go on,

And turne againe, and ſhe can weepe fir, weepe;

And ſhee's obedient, as you ſay, obedient ;

Very obedient, prieed you in your teares,

Concerning this fir: O well painted paffion :

I am commanded here: --- get you away,

I'le ſend for you anon: --- Sir, I obey the mandat,

And will returne to Venice: --- hence, auant,

Caſſio ſhall haue my place; and fir to night

I doe intreate that we may ſup together,

You are welcome fir to Cypres, --- goates and monksies.

Exit.

Lod. Is this the noble Moore, whom our full Senate

Call all in all ſufficient ? This the noble nature,

Whom paffion could not ſhake ? Whose ſolid vertue,

The ſhot of accident, nor dart of chance

Could neither graze, nor peirce ?

Iag. He is much changed.

Lod. Are his wits ſafe? is he not light of braine ?

Iag. He's that he is, I may not breathe my cenſure,

What he might be, if as he might, he is not,

I would to heauen he were.

Lod. What, ſtrike his wife.

Iag. Faith that was not ſo well; yet would I knew

That ſtoake would proue the worſt.

Lod. Is it his vſe?

Or did the letters worke vpon his blood.

And new create this fault?

Iag. Alas, alas..

It

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The Moore of Venice.

It is not honesty in me to ſpeake,

What I haue ſcene and knowne, you ſhall obſerue him,

And his owne courſes will denote him ſo,

That I may ſaue my ſpeech : doe but goe after,

And marke how he continues.

Lod. I am ſorry that I am deceiu'd in him.

Exeunt.

Enter Othello and Emillia.

Oth. You haue ſcene nothing then.

Em. Nor euer heard, nor euer did ſiſpect.

Oth. Yes, and you haue ſcene Caſſio and ſhe together.

Em. But then I ſaw no harme, and then I heard

Each fillable that breath made vp betweene 'em.

Oth. What, did they neuer whiſper ?

Em. Neuer, my Lord.

Oth. Nor ſend you out o'the way?

Em. Neuer.

Oth. To fetch her fan, her mask, her gloues, nor nothing?

Em. Neuer, my Lord.

Oth. That's ſtrange.

Em. I durſt my Lord, to wager ſhe is honest,
Lay downe my ſoule at ſtake : if you thinke other,
Remoue your thought, it doth abuse your boſome,
If any wretch ha put this in your head,

Let heauens requite it with the Serpents curſe,

For if ſhe be not honest, chaſte, and true,

There's no man happy, the pureſt of her Sex

Is ſoule as ſlander.

Exeunt Emillia.

Oth. Bid her come hither, goe,

She ſayes enough, yet ſhe's a ſimple bawde,

That cannot ſay as much: this is a ſubtle whore,

A cloſet, locke and key, of villainous ſecrets,

And yet ſhe'll kneele and pray, I haue ſene her do't.

Enter Desdemona and Emillia.

Def. My Lord, what is your will ?

Oth. Pray chucke come hither.

Def. What is your pleasure?

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Oth.

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70

Oth. Let me see your eyes - looke in my face.

Def. What horrible fancy's this?

Oth. Some of your function mistrifle,

Leaue procreants alone, and shut the dore,

Coffe, or cry hem, if any body come,

Your miftery, your miftry : nay difpatch.

Def. Vpon my knees, what does your ſpeech import?

I understand a ſuty in your words,

But not the words.

Oth. Why, what act thou?

Def. Your wife my Lord, your true and loyall wife.

Oth. Come, weare it, dam thy ſelfe,

Left being like one of heauen, the dinells themselves flues

Should feare to ceafe thee, therefore be double daimd,

Sweare thou art honest.

Def. Heauen doth truely know it.

Oth. Heauen truely knowes, that thou art falſe as hell.

Def. To whom, my Lord, with whom ? how am I falſe?

Oth. O Defdemona, away, away, away.

Def. Alas the heavy day, why do you weepe ?

Am I the occasion of those teares my Lord?

If haply you my father doe suspect,

An Instrument of this your calling backe,

Lay not your blame on me; if you haue left him,

Why I haue left him too.

Oth. Had it please'd heauen

To try me with affliction, had he ram'd

All kindes of forces, and ſhames on my bare head,

S: ceep'd me in poughy, to the very lips,

Giuen to captiuität, me and my hopes,

I should haue found in some part of my ſoule

A drop of patience; but alas, to make nie

A fixed figure, for the time of ſcorne,

To point his flow vnmoing fingers at --oli, oh,

Yet could I beare that too, well, very well.

But there : where I haue garner'd vp my heart,

Where either I muſt lieue, or beare no life,

The

The Moore of Venice.

71

The fountaine, from the which my currant runnes,

Or else dryes vp, to be discarded thence,

Or keepe it as a Cefterne, for ſoule Toades

To knot and gender in: turne thy complexion there,

Patience thy young and roſe-lip'd Cherubin,

I here looke grim as Hell.

Def. I hope my noble Lord effectes me honest.

Oth. O I, as funmers flies, are in the ſhambles,

That quicken euen with blowing :

O thou blacke weede, why art thou louely faire?

Thou ſmellst aso ſwete, that the ſenceakes at thee,

Would thou had it were bin borne.

Def. Alas, what ignorant ſinne haue I committed?

Oth. Was this faire paper, this moſt goodly booke,

Made to wice where on? --- What, committed?

Heauen ſtops the noſe at it, and the Moone winkes,

The bawdy wind, that kiffes all it meetes,

Is hufſt within the hallow mine of earth,

And will not hear't: -- what committed, impudent ſtrumpet,

Def. By heauen you doe me wrong.

Oth. Are not you a ſtrumpet?

Def. No, as I am a Christian:

If to preferue this veſſell for my Lord,

From any hated ſoule vnlawfull touch,

Be not to be a ſtrumpet, I am none.

Oth. What, not a whore?

Def. No, as I ſhall be ſaued.

Enter Emilia.

Oth. If poſſible ?

Def. O heauen forgiuen ſle.

Oth. I cry you mercy,

I tooke you for that cunning ſhore of Venice,

That married with Othello: you mistrifle,

That haue the office oppofite to S. Peter,

And keepe the gates in hell; I, you, you, you;

We haue done our courſe; there's money for your paines,

I pray you turne the key, and keepe our counteill.

Em: Alas, what does this Gentleman conceive?

How

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72

How doe you Madam, how doe you my good Lady?

Def. Faith half so sleepe.

Em. Good Madam, what's the matter with my Lord?

Def. With who?

Em. Why with my Lord Madam.

Def. I'ha none, doe not talke to me Emillia,
I cannot weepe, nor anfwer haue I none,
But what should goe by water : precthee to night
Lay on my bed our wedding sheetes, remember,
And call thy husband hither.

Em. Here is a change indeed.

Exit.

Def. Tis meete I should be vide so, very well;
How haue I bin behau'd, that he might sticke
The smallet opinion, on my greatest abufe.

Iag. What is your pleafure Madam,

Enter Iago.

How it with you?

and Emillia.

Def. I cannot tell : those that doe teach young babes
Doe it with gentle meanes, and eafie taskes,
He might ha chid me so, for in good faith,
I am a child at chiding.

Iag. What is the matter Lady?

Em. Alas Iago, my Lord hath so be wor h' d her,
Throwne such despite, and heauy termes vpon her,
As true hearts cannot beare.

Def. Am I that name Iago?

Iag. What name faire Lady?

Def. Such as she fayes my Lord did fay I was?

Em. He call'd her whom : A begger in his drinke,

Could not haue layed such tearmes vpon his Callet.

Iag. Why did he so?

Def. I doe not know, I am sure I am none such.

Iag. Doe not weepe, doe not weepe : al as the day.

Em. Has she for stooke so many noble matches,

Her Father, and her Countrey, all her friends,

To be cold whom? would it not make one weepe?

Def. It is my wretched fortune.

Iag. Behrew him for it; how comes this tricke vpon him?

Defd.

The Moore of Venece.

73

Def. Nay, heauen doth know.

Em. I will be hang'd, if some eternall villaine,
Some bufie and infinuating regue,
Some cogging, coufening ilaue, to get some office,
Haue not deuifde this slander, I'le be hang'd else.

Iag. Fie, there is no such man, it is impoffible.

Def. If any such there be, heauen pardon him.

Em. A halter pardon him, and hell gnaw his bones:
Why should he call her whore ? who keeps her company?

What place, what time, what for me, what likelihood?

The Moore's abus'd by some outragious knaue :

Some base notorious knaue, some ſcuruy fellow,
O heauen, that such companions thowdt vnfold,
And put in every honest hand a whip,

To laſh the rafcall naked through the world,
Euen from the Eaſt to the West.

Iag. Speake within dores.

Em. O ſie vpon him; some ſuch ſquire he was,
That turnd your wit, the ſeamy ſide without,
And made you to ſuspect me with the Moore.

Iag. You are a fool, goe to.

Def. O Good Iago,

VWhat shall I doe to win my Lord againe ?

Good friend goe to him, for by this light of heauen,
I know not how I loft him.

Iag. I pray you be content, tis but his humour,
The buſinesſe of the State does him offence,
And he does chide with you.

Def. If't were no other.

Iag. Tis but so, I warrant you,
Harke how these ſtruments ſummon you to ſupper,
And the great Meſſengers of Venice stay,
Goe in, and weepe not, all things shall be well.

Exit women.

How now Roderigo?

Enter Roderigo.

Rod. I doe not finde that thou dealſt iuſly with me.

Iag. VWhat in the contrary?

Rod. Every day, thou doſſt me, with some deuſe Iage;

L

And

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The Tragedy of Othello

And rather, as it seems to me, thou keepest from me,
All conveniency, then supplies me, with the least
Aduantage of hope: I will indeed no longer indure it,
Nor am I yet periwaded to put vp in peace, what already
I have foolishly suffered.

Iag. Will you heare me Roderigo?

Rod. Faith I haue heard too much, for your words,
And performance are no kin together.

Iag. You charge me most vnwisefly.

Rod. I haue waited my selfe out of meanes: the Iewels you haue had from me, to deliver to Desdemona, would halfe haue corrupted a Votarist: you haue told me she has receiued me, and return'd mee expectation, and comforts of Suddaine respect, and acquittance, but I finde none.

Iag. Well, goe to, very good.

Rod. Very well, goe to, I cannot goe to man, it is not very well, by this hand, I say this very furuy, and begin to finde my selfe flot in it.

Iag. Very well.

Rod. I say it is not very well: I will make my selfe knowne to Desdemona, if she will returne me my Iewels, I will giue ouer my suite, and repent my vnlawful follicitation, if not, aflure your selfe I leeske fatisfaction of you.

Iag. You haue said now.

Rod. I, and I haue said nothing, but what I protest entendment of doing.

Iag. Why now I see there's mettle in thee, and euen from this time doe build on thee, a better opinion then euer before, giue me thy hand Roderigo: Thou ha'st taken against me a most inust concep- tion, but yet I protest, I haue deelt most directly in thy affaires.

Rod. It hath not appeared.

Iag. I grant indeed it hath not appear'd, and your suspition is not without wit and iudgement: But Roderigo, if thou ha'st that within thee indeed, which I haue greater reason to believe now, then euer, I meane purpose, courage, and valour, this night shew it, if thou the next night following enjoyest not Desdemona, take mee from this world with treachery, and deuise engines for my life.

Rod.

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The Moore of Venice.

Rod. Well, is it within reason and compasse?

Iag. Sir, there is especially command come from Venice,
To depute Caffio in Othello's place.

Rod. Is that true? why then Othello and Desdemona
Returne againe to Venice.

Iag. O no, he goes into Mauritania, and takes away with him
The faire Desdemona, who is his abode be linger'd
Here by some accident, wherein none can be so
determinate, as the remouing of Caffio.

Rod. How doe you meane remouing of him?

Iag. Why, by making him vncapable of Othello's place,
Knocking out his brains.

Rod. And that you would haue me to doe.

Iag. I, and if you dare doe your selfe a profit, and right, hee fups to night with a harlot, and thither will I goe to him: --- he knowes not yet of his honourable fortune: if you will watch his going thence, which I will fashion to fall out betweene twelue and one, you may take him at your pleasure: I will be neere to second your attempt, and hee shall fall betweene vs: come, stand not amaz'd at it, but goe along with mee, I will shew you such a necessity in his death, that you shall thinke your selfe bound to put it on him. It is now high fupper time, and the night growes to wad: about it.

Enter Othello, Desdemona, Ledonico, Emillsa,
and Attendants.

Rod. I will heare further reason for this.

Iag. And you shall be satisfied. Ex. Iag. and Rod.

Lod. I do beleech you, sir, trouble your selfe no further.

Oth. O pardon me, it shall doe me good to walke.

Lod. Madame, good night, I humbly thanke your Ladiship.

Def. Your honour is most welcome.

Oth. Will you walke sir: --- O Desdemona.

Def. My Lord.

Oth. Get you to bed, or the instant I will be returned, forthwith,
dispatch your Attendant there, --- looke it be done.

Exeunt.

Def. I will my Lord.

Em. How goes it now? he lookes gentler then he did.

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Def.

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The Tragedy of Othello

Def. He faies he will returne incontinent:
He hath commanded me to goe to bed,
And bad me to dismiffe you.

Em. Dismiffe me?

Def. It was his bidding, therefore good Emillia,
Giae me my nightly wearing, and adiue,
We muft not now displease him.

Em. I would you had neuer seene him.

Def. So would not I, my loue doth so approue him,
That euen his stubborneneſſe, his checks and frownes,
Prethee vnpin me; haue grace and favour in them.

Em. I haue laied these sheeues you bade me, on the bed.

Def. All's one good faith: how foolish are our minds?
If I doe die before thee, prethee shrowd me,
In one of those same sheeues.

Em. Come, come, you talke.

Def. My mother had a maid cald Barbary,
She was in loue, and he she lou'd, prou'd mad,
And did forſake her, she has a ſong of willow,
An old thing 'twas, but it expreſſ her fortune,
And she died ſinging it, that Song to night,
Will not goe from my mind -- ha'ke, who's that knocks?

Em. It is the wind.

Def. Now get thee gone, good night :
Mine eyes doe it ch, does that bode weeping?

Em. Tis neither here nor there.

Def. Wouldst thou doe such a deed, for all the world?

Em. Why would not you.

Def. No, by this heauenly light.

Em. Nor I neither, by this heauenly light,
I might doe it as well in the darke.

Def. Would thou dœ such a thing for all the world?

Em. The world is a huge thing, it is a great price,
For a small vice.

Def. Good troth I thinke thou wouldst not.

Em. By my troth I thinke I should, and vndo't when I had done
it, Mary I would not doe such a thing for a ioynt ring; or for mea-
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The Moore of Venice.

77

fures of Lawne, nor for Gownes, or Petticores, nor Caps, nor any
fuch exhibition; but for the whole world ? vds pitty, who would
not make her husband a Cuckole, to make him a Monarch? I should
venture purgatory for it.

Def. Before me, if I would doe such a wrong,
For the whole world.

Em. Why, the wrong is but a wrong i'the world; and hauing the
world for your labour, tis a wrong in your owne world, and you
might quick'ly make it right.

Def. I do not thinke there is any ſuch woman.

Em. Yes, a dozen, and as many to the vantage, as would ſtore
the world they played for.

Def. Good night, good night: God me such vſage ſend,
Not to picke bad from bad, but by bad mend.

Exeunt.

Actus. 5.

Enter Iago and Roderigo,

Iag. Here I stand behind this Bulke, a straite will he come,
Weare thy good Rapier bare, and put it home,
Quicke, quicke, ſcare nothing, I'le be at thy elboe;
It makes vs or it marres vs, thinke of that,
And fixe moſt firme thy resolution.

Rod. Be neere at hand, I may miſcarry in't.

Iag. Here at thy hand, be bold, and take thy ſword.

Rod. I haue no great devotion to the dead;
And yet he has giuen me satisfying reaſons,
Tis but a man gone: forth my ſword, he dies.

Iag. I haue rubd this young gnat almost to the ſenſe,
And he growes angry now: whether he kill Caffio,
Or Caffio him, or each doe kill the other,
Euery way makes my game; liue Roderigo,
He calls me to a reſtitution large,
For Gold and Icwells, that I bodd from him,
As gifts to Desdemona:

It must not be, if Caffio doe remaine,

L 3

He

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The Tragedy of Othello

He has a daily beauty in his life,
That makes me vgly : and besides, the Moore
May vnfould me to him ; there (and I in petrill :
No, he must die, be't so, I heare him comming.
*Ent. Caſ.*

Rod. I know his gate, tis he, villaine thou dieſt.

Caſ. That thrust had bin my enem y indeed,
But that my coate is better then thou think'st,
I will make proofe of thine.

Rod. O I am flaine.

Caſ. I am maind for euer, light ho, murder, murder.
*Enter Othello.*

Oth. The voice of Caſſio, Iago keeps his word.

Rod. O villaine that I am.

Oth. Harke tis euen so.

Caſ. O helpe ho, light, a Surgeon.

Oth. Tis he, O braue Iago, honest and Luft,
That haſt such noble ſence of thy friends wrong,
Thou teacheſt me; --minion, your deare lies dead,
And your ſate hies apace; ſtrumpet I come;
Forth of my heart, thoſe charmes thine eyes are blotted,
Thy bed luſt-ſtaind, shall with luſts blood be ſpotted.
*Ex. Enter Lodouico and Gratiano.*

Caſ. What ho, no watch, no paſſage, murder, murd er

Grat. Tis some miſchance, the cry is very direfull.

Caſ. O help: . Lod. Harke.

Rod. O wretched villaine.

Lod. Two or three grones, it is a heauy night,
These may be counterfeits, let's think't vnſafe
To come into the cry without more helpe.

Rod. No body come, then ſhall I bleed to death.

*Enter Iago with a light.*

Lod. Harke.

Grat. Here's one comes in his ſhirt, with lights and weapons,

Iago. Who's there ? whoſe noise is this, that cries on murder.

Lod. I doe not know.

Iago. Did not you heare a cry ?

Caſ. Here, here, for heauens ſake helpe me.

Iago.

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The Moore of Venice.

Iago. What's the matter.

Grat. This is Othello's Ancient, as I take it.

Lod. The ſame indeed, a very valiant ſellow.

Iago. What are you here, that cry ſo greecuouſly ?

Caſ. Iago, O I am ſpoil'd, vndone by villaines,

Gie me ſome helpe.

Iago. O my Leiutenant: what villaines haue done this?

Caſ. I thinke the one of them is heere about,

And cannot make away.

Iago. O treacherous villaines :

What are you there ? come in and giue ſome helpe.

Rod. O helpe me here.

Caſ. That's one of em.

Iago. O murderous flaue, O villaine.

Rod. O dambd Iago, O inhumaine dog,-- 0,0,0,0.

Ia. Kill him i'the dark? where be thoſe bloody theeuces?

How ſilent is this Towne? Ho, murder, murder :

What may you be, are you of good or euill ?

Lod. As you ſhall proue vs, prauſe vs.

Iago. Seignior Lodouico.

Lod. He fir.

Iago. I cry you mercy : here's Caſſio hurt by villaines.

Grat. Caſſio.

Iago. How is it brother?

Caſ. My leg is cut in two.

Iago. Mary heauen forbid :

Light Gentlemen, I'll bind it with my ſhirt.

*Enter Bianca.*

Bian. What is the matter ho, who iſt that cried ?

Iago. Who iſt that cried.

Bian. O my deare Caſſio, O my ſweete Caſſio, Caſſio,

Iago. O notable ſtrumpet : Caſſio may you ſuſpect

Who they ſhould be, that thus haue mangled you ?

Caſ. No.

Grat. I am ſorry to find you thus, I haue bin to ſeeke you.

Bian. Alas he faints, O Caſſio, Caſſio, Caſſio.

Iago. Gentlemen all, I doe ſuſpect this traſa

L. 4

To

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The Tragedy of Othello

To beare a part in this : patience a while good Cafsio :
Lend me a light; know we this face, or no ?
Alas my friend, and my deare countrey man :
Roderigo ? no, yes sure : O heauen Roderigo.

Gra. What of Venice?

Iag. Euen he fir, did you know him ?

Gra. Know him ? I.

Iag. Seignior Gratiano, I cry you gentle pardon:
These bloody accidents must excuse my manners,
That I so neglected you.

Gra. I am glad to see you.

Iag. How doe you Cafsio? O a chaire, a chaire.

Gra. Roderigo.

Iag. He, tis he : O that's well faid, a chaire ;

Some good man beare him carefully from hence,
I'le fetch the Generalls Surgeon : for you miftrifle,

Sau ye your labour, he that lies flaine here Cafsio,
Was my deare friend, what malice was betwixt you ?

Caf. None in the world, nor doe I know the man.

Iag. What, looke you pale ? O beare him out o' th' aire.

Stay you good Gentlewoman, looke you pale miftrifle ?

Doe you perceiue the ieaftures of her eye,

Nay, an you flirre, we shall haue more anon :

Behold her well I pray you, looke vpon her,

Doe you see Gentlemen ? Nay guiltineſſe.

Will ſpeake, though tongues were out of vfe. Enter Em.

Em. 'Las what's the matter ? what's the matter husband?

Iag. Cafsio has here bin fet on in the darke,

By Roderigo, and fellowes that are ſcap't,

Hce's almost flaine, and Roderigo dead.

Em. Alas good gentleman, alas good Cafsio.

Iag. This is the fruit of whoring, pray Emillia,

Goe know of Cafsio, where he ſupt to night :

What, doe you shake at that ?

Bian. He ſupt at my house, but I therefore shake not,

Iag. O did he ſo, I charge you goe with me.

Em. Fie, ſie vpon thee ſtrumper.

Bian.

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The Moore of Venice.

Bian. I am no ſtrumper, but of life as honest,

As you, that thus abuse me.

Em. As I : ſough, ſie vpon thee.

Iag. Kind Gentlemen, let's goe see poore Cafsio drest,
Come miftrifle, you muſt tell's another tale.

Emillia, runne you to the Cittadell,

And tell my Lord and Lady what has hapt :

Will you goe on, I pray, this is the night,

That either marks me, or foredoes me quite.

Exeunt.

Enter Othello with a light.

Oth. It is the cause, it is the cause, my ſoule,
Let me not name it to you, you chaſte ſtarnes :

It is the cauſe. yet I'le not ſhed her blood,

Nor ſcarre that whiter skin of hers, then ſnow,

And ſmooth, as monumentall Alablaſter ;

Yet ſhe muſt die, eſſe ſhe'll betray more men,

Put out the light, and then put out the light :

If I quench thee, thou flaming minifter,

I can againe, thy former light restore,

Should I repent me; but once put out thine,

Thou cunning patterne of excelling nature,

I know not where is that promethian heate,

That can thy light returne : when I haue pluckt the rose,

I cannot giue it vitall growth againe,

It muſt needes wither ; I'le ſmell it on the tree,

A balmy breath, that doth almost perſwade

Iuſtice her ſelſe to breake her ſword once more,

Be thus, when thou art dead, and I will kill thee,

And loue thee after : once more, and this the last,

He
kisses her.

So ſweete was ne're so fatall : I muſt weepe,

But they are cruell teares; this ſorrowes heauenly,

It strikes when it does loue : ſhe wakes.

Def. Who's there, Othello?

Oth. I, Desdemona.

Def. Will you come to bed my Lord?

Oth. Haue you prayed to night, Desdemona?

M

Def.

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The Tragedy of Othello

Def. I my Lord:
Oth. If you bethinke your selfe of any crime,
Vnreconcild as yet to heauen and grace,
Sollicite for it straite.
Def. Alas my Lord, what may you meane by that?
Oth. Well doe it, and be briefe, I will walke by,
I would not kill thy vnprepared spint,
No, heauen fore-fend, I would not kill thy foule.
Def. Talke you of killing?
Oth. I, I doe.
Def. Then heauen haue mercy on me.
Oth. Amen, with all my heart.
Def. If you say so, I hope you will not kill me.
Oth. Hum.
Def. And yet I feare you, for you are fatall then,
When your eyes roule so: why I should feare, I know not,
Since guiltinesse I know not, but yet I feele I feare.
Oth. Thinke on thy finnes.
Def. They are loues I beare to you.
Oth. And for that thou diest.
Def. That death's vanaturall, that kills for louing,
Alas, why gnaw you so your neather lip?
Some bloody passion shakes your very frame,
These are portents: but yet I hope
They doe not point on me.
Oth. Peace, and be still.
Def. I will, so, what's the matter?
Oth. That handkercher which I so lou'd, and gaue thee,
Thou gauest to Caffio.
Def. No, by my life and foule,
Send for the man and aske him.
Oth. Sweete foule take heed, take heed of periury,
Thou art on thy death-bed.
Def. I, but not yet to die.
Oth. Yes, presently:
Therefore confesse thee freely of thy finne,
For to deny each article with oath,

Cannot

91

The Moore of Venice.

Cannot remove, nor choke the strong conceit,
That I doe groane withall: thou art to die.
Def. Then Lord haue mercy on me.
Oth. I say Amen.
Def. And haue you mercy too:
I neuer did offend you in my life,-- neuer lou'd Caffio,
But with such generall warranty of heauen,
As I might loue: I neuer gaue him token.
Oth. By heauen I saw my handkercher in his hand,
O periured woman, thou doest stone thy heart,
And makst me call, what I intend to doe,
A murder, which I thought a sacrifice,
I saw the handkercher.
Def. He found it then,
I neuer gaue it him, send for him bither,
And let him confesse a truth.
Oth. He has confest.
Def. What, my Lord?
Oth. Thar he hath--- vds death.
Def. How, valawfully?
Oth. I.
Def. He will not say so.
Oth. No, his mouth is stop'd,
Honest Iago hath tane order for't.
Def. My feare interprets then,-- what is he dead?
Oth. Had all his haires bin liues,
My great reuenge had stomacke for 'em all.
Def. Alas he is betraid, and I vndone.
Oth. O trumpert,-- weepeft thou for him to my face?
Def. O bannish me, my Lord, but kill me not.
Oth. Downe trumpert.
Def. Kill me to morrow, let me lie to night.
Oth. Nay, an you striue.
Def. But halse an houre, but while I say one prayer.
Oth. Tis too late.
Def. O Lord, Lord, Lord.
Emilia calls within.
Em. My Lord, my Lord, what ho, my Lord, my Lord.

M 2

Oth:

52 The Tragedy of Othello

Oth. What voyce is this ? not dead ? not yet quite dead ?
I that am cruel, am yet mercifull,

I would not haue thee linger in thy paine, --- so, so.

Em. What ho, my Lord, my Lord.

Oth. Who's there?

Em. O good my Lord, I'd speake a word with you.

Oth. Yes, tis Emillia, by and by : shee's dead :

Tis like she comes to speake of Caffsio death;

The noyfle was here ; ha, no more mouing,

Still as the graue : shall she come in ? were't good ?

I thinke she stirres againe; no, what's the belt?

If she come in, she'll fure speake to my wife.

My wife, my wife, my wife; I ha no wife ;

O insupportable : O heavy houre.

Me thinks it should be now a huge Ecclips

Of Sunne and Moone, and that the affrighted Globe,

Should yawne at alteration.

Em. I doe befeech you I may speake with you, - good my Lord.

Oth. I had forgot thee : O come in Emillia.

Soft, by and by; let me the Curtaines draw, Ent. Emil.

Where art thou ? what's the matter with thee now ?

Em. O my good Lord, yonder's foule murders done.

Oth. What, now?

Em. But now my Lord.

Oth. It is the very error of the Moone,

She comes more neere the earth, then she was wont,

And makes men mad.

Em. Caffsio my Lord has kill'd a yong Venetian,

Cal'd Roderigo.

Oth. Roderigo kild, and Caffsio kild ?

Em. No, Caffsio is not kild.

Oth. Not Caffsio kild, then murdeis out of tune,

And sweete reuenge growes harsh.

Def. O falfly, falfly murdered.

Em. O Lord, what cry is that ?

Oth. That? what?

Em. Out and alas, it is my Ladyes voyce,

Helpe,

The Moore of Venice.

93

Helpe, helpe, ho helpe, O Lady speake againe,
Sweete Desdemona, O sweete Miftresse speake.

Def. A guiltlesse death I die.

Em. O who has done this deed?

Def. No body, I my selfe, farewell :

Commend me to my kinde Lord, O farewell.

fye die.

Oth. Why, how should she be murdered ?

Em. Alas, who knowes?

Oth. You heard her say, her selfe, it was not I.

Em. She fayd so, I must needs report a truth.

Oth. She's like a lycer, gone to burning Hell,

'Twas I that kild her...

Em. O, the more Angell she,

And you the blacker diuell.

Oth. She turn'd to folly, and she was a whole.

Em. Thou does't bely her, and thou art a diuell.

Oth. She was false as water.

Em. Thou as rafh as fire,

To say that she was false : O she was heauenly true.

Oth. Caffsio did top her, aske thy husband selfe,

O I were damn'd beneath all depth in hell,

But that I did proceed, vpon iuft grounds,

To this extremity, thy husband knew it all.

Em. My husband?

Oth. Thy husband.

Em. That she was false to wedlocke?

Oth. I, with Caffsio: nay, had she bin true,

If heauen would make me such another world,

Of one intire and perfe& Grisolite,

I'de not haue fold her for it.

Em. My husband?

Oth. I, twas he that told me first,

An honest man he is, and hates the slime,

That sticks on filthy deedes.

Em. My husband?

Oth. What needes this iteration ? woman, I say thy husband.

Em. If he say so, may his pernicious foule

M 3

Rot

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The Tragedy of Othello

Rot halfe a graine a day: he lies to'th heart,
She was too fond of her most filthy bargaine.

Oth. Ha?

Em. Doe thy worst,

This deed of thine is no more worthy heauen,
Then thou waft worthy her.

Oth. Peace, you were beft.

Em. Thou haft not halfe the power to doe me harme,
As I haue to be hurt: O gull, O dolt,
As ignorant as dirt; thou haft done a deed ---
I care not for thy sword, I'll make thee know,
Tho I loft twenty liues: helpe, helpe, O helpe;
The Moore has kild my Miltrefle, murder, murder.

Enter Montano, Gratiano, Iago, and others.

Mon. What is the matter? how now Generall?

Em. O, are you come Iago? you haue done well,
That men must lay their murder on your neck.

All. What is the matter ?

Em. Disproue this villaine, if thou be't a man;
He fayes thou toldst him that his wife was false,
I know thou didst not, thou art not such a villaine :
Speake, for my heart is full.

Iag. I told him what I thought, and told no more,
Then what he found himselve was apt and true.

Em. But did you cuer tell him she was false?

Iag. I did.

Em. You told a lie, an odious damned lie;
Vpon my foule, a lie, a wicked lie:

She false with Caffisio; did you say with Caffisio?

Iag. With Caffisio miftrefle; go to, charme your tongue.

Em. I will not charme my tongue, I am bound to speake.

Iag. What are you mad, I charge you to get you home.

Em. Good Gentlemen let me haue leaue to speake,

Tis proper I obey him, but not now:

Perchance Iago, I will ne're goe home.

Oth. Oh, oh, oh.

Oth. Fals on the bed.

Em. Nay, lay thee downe, and rore,

For

The Moore of Venece.

For thou haft kild the sweetest innocent,
That e're did lift vp eye.

Oth. O she was foule :

I scarce did know you Uncle, there lies your Niece,
Whose breath indeed, these hands haue newly stopp;
I know this act thewes terrible and grim.

Gra. Poore Desdemona, I am glad thy father's dead,
Thy match was mortall to him, and pure griefe,
Shore his old thread atwane: did he liue now,
This fight would make him doe a desperate turne,
Yea curse his better Angell from his side,
And fall to reprobation.

Oth. Tis pittifull, but yet Iago knowes,
That she with Caffisio, hath the act of flame
A thousand times committed; Caffisio confest it,
And she did gratifie his amorous workes,
With the recognifance and pledge of loue,
Which I first gaue her; I saw it in his hand,
It was a handkercher; an Antique token
A father gaue my mother.

Em. O God, O heauenly God.

Iag. Zours, hold your peace.

Em. 'I will out, 'twill: I hold my peace fir, no,
I'll be in speaking, liberall as the ayre,
Let heauen, and men, and diuell's, let em all,
All, all cry flame against me, yet I speake.

Iag. Be wife, and get you home.

Em. I will not.

Gra. Fie, your sword vpon a woman?

Em. O thou dull Moore, that handkercher thou speak'st on,
I found by fortune, and did giue my husband:

For often with a solemne earneſt neſſe,
More then indeede belong'd to such a trifle,
He beg'd of me to steale it.

Iag. Villainous whore.

Em. She gaue it Caffisio? no alas I found it,
And I did giu't my husband.

M 4

Iag.

The Tragedy of Othello

96

Iag. Filth thou liest.

Em. By heauen I doe not, I doe not Gentlemen,
O murderous Coxcombe ! what should such afoole
Doe with so good a woman ?

The Moore runnes at Iago. Iago kills his wife.

Oth. Are there no stones in heauen,
But what ferues for the thunder ? pretious villaine.

Gra. The woman falls, sure he has kild his wife.

Em. I, I, O lay me by my mistresse side.

Gra. Hec's gone, but his wife's kild.

Man. Tis a notorious villaine, take your weapon,
Which I haue here recouered from the Moore :
Come, guard the dore without, let him not paffe,
But kill him rather, I'l'e after that same villaine,
For tis a damned flaue.

Oth. I am not valiant neither,
But euery puny whipfer gets my sword,
But why should honour out liue honesty ?

Let it goe all.

Em. Moore, she was chaft, she lou'd thee cruell Moore,
So come my soule to bliffe, as I speake true;
So speaking as I thinke, I die, I die.

Oth. I haue another weapon in this chamber,
It is a sword of Spaine, the Isbrookes temper;
O here it is; Uncle I muft come forth.

Cra. If thou attempt it, it will coft thee decre,
Thou haft no weapon, and perforce muft suffer.

Oth. Looke in vpon me then, and speake to me,
Or naked as I am, I will assault thee.

Gra. What is the matter ?

Oth. Behold, I haue a weapon,
A better neuer did it selfe sultaine
Vpon a Souldiers thigh : I haue seene the day,
That with this little arme, and this good sword,
I haue made my way through more impediments,
Then twenty times you stop : but O vaine boast,
Who can controule his Fate ? tis not so now,

Pale

The Moore of Venice.

97

Pale as thy smocke, when we shall meete at count;
This looke of thine, will:bury my soule from heauen.
And fiends will snatch at it: cold, cold, my girl,

Euen like thy chaftity; O curfed flaue :
Whippe me you Diuell's,

From the possession of this heavenly fight,
Blow me about in winds,raft me in sulphure,

Wash me in fleepe downe sulphures of liquid fire.

O Def emona, Desdemona, dead, O, O, O,

Enter Lodouico, Montano, Iago, and Officers.
Caffio in a Chaire.

Lod. Where is this rafh and moft infortunate man?

Oth. That's he that was Othello, here I am.

Lod. Where is this Viper, bring the villaine forth.

Oth. I locke downe towards his feet, but that's a fable
If thou beest a diuell, I cannot kill thee.

Lod. Wring his sword from him.

Iag. I bleed fir, but not kild.

Oth. I am not lorry neither, I'de haue thee liue,
For in my fense tis happineſſe to die.

Lod. O thou Othello, that wert once so good,
Faine in the practice of a damned flaue,
What should be said to thee?

Oth. Why any thing,
An honourable murderer if you will:

For nought did I in hate, but all in honour.

Lod. This wretch hath part confest his villainy.

Did you and he content in Caffio's death?

Oth. I.

Caf. Deare Generall, I did neuer giue you cause,

Oth. I doe beleeue it, and I aske you pardon,
Will you pray, demand that demy diuell,
Why he hath thus inſar'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 ?

Grat. Torments will op'e your lips.

N

Oth.

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The Tragedy of Othello

Oth. Well, thou dost beft.

Lod. Sir, you shall understand what hath befalne,
Which, as I thinke you know not: here is a letter,
Found in the pocket of the flaine Roderigo;
And here another; the one of them imports
The death of Caffio; to be vndertooke --- by Roderigo.

Oth. O villaine.

Caf. Most heathenish, and most grosse.

Lod. Now heres another discontea ted paper,
Found in his pocket too, and this it seems,
Roderigo meant to haue sent this damned villaine,
But that belike Iago, in the nicke
Came in, and satisfied him.

Oth. O the pernicious catieffe !

How came you Caffio by a handkercher,
That was my wifes ?

Caf. I found it in my chamber,

And he himselfe confest it euen now,
That there he dropt it, for a speciall purpose;
Which wrought to his desire.

Oth. O foole, foole, foole.

Caf. There is befides in Roderigo's letter
How he vpbraides Iago, that he made him,
Braue me vpon the watch, whereon it came,
That I was caft; and euen but now he spake,
After long ſcaming dead, Iago hurt him,
Iago set him on.

Lod. You muft forfake this roome, and goe with vs.
Your power and your command is taken off,
And Caffio rules in Cypres : for this ilaue,
If there be any cunning crueley,
That can torment him much, and hold him along,
It shall be his: you shall close prisoner reft,
Till that the nature of your fault be knowne
To the Venetian State; come, bring him away.

Oth. Soft you, a word or two,
I haue done the State some seruice, and they know it;

No

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The Moore of Venice.

No more of that: I pray you in your letters,
When you shall thefe vnlucky deedes relate,
Speake of them as they are; nothing extemate,
Nor set downe ought in malice, then muft you speake,
Of one that lou'd not wifely, but too well:
Of one not easily iealous, but being wrought,
Perplext in the extreme ; of one whose hand,
Like the base Indian, threw a pearle away.

Richer then all his Tribe : of one whose subdued eyes,
Albeit vnfed to the melting moode,
Drops teares as faft as the Arabia trees,
Their medicinall gum; set you downe this,
And say befides, that in Aleppo once,
Where a Malignant and a Turb and Turke,
Beate a Venetian, and traduc'd the State;
I tooke birth throate the circumcised dog,
And smote him thus.

He slabs himselfe.

Lod. O bloody period.

Gra. All that's spoke is mard.

Oth. I kiff thee ere I kild thee, no way but this,
Killing my selfe, to die vpon a kiffe.
He dies.

Caf. This did I feare, but thought he had no weapon,
For he was great of heart.

Lod. O Spartane dog,
More fell then anguifh, hunger, or the Sea,
Looke on the tragicke lodging of this bed:
This is thy worke, the obiect poisons fight,
Let it be hid: Gratiano, keepe the house,
And ceaze vpon the fortunes of the Moore:
For they fucceed to you, to you Lord Gouernour,
Remaines the cenſure of this helliſh villaine,
The time, the place, the torture : O inforce it,
My ſelfe will ſtraite aboard, and to the State,
This heavy act with heavy heart relate.

Exeunt omne.

FINIS..