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I won his daughter with.
Her father lov'd me; oft invited me;
Still question d me the story of my life,
From year to year; the battles, sieges, fortunes,
That I have pass’d.
I ran it through, even from my boyish days,
To the very moment that he made me tell it
Wherein I spoke of most disastrous chances;
Of moving accidents, by flood, and field;
Of hair-breadth 'scapes i’ the inminent deadly

Of being taken by the insolent foe,
And sold to slavery: of my redemption thence,
And portance* in my travel's history.
These things to hear,
Would Desdemona seriously incline:
But still the house affairs would draw her thence;
Which ever as she could with haste despatch,
She'd come again, and with a greedy ear
Devour up my discourse: Which I observing,
Took once a pliant hour; and found good means
To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart,

That I would all my pilgrimage dilate,
Whereof by parcelst she had something heard,
But not intentively:f I did consent;
And often did beguile her of her tears,
When I did speak of some distressful stroke,
That my youth suffer'd. My story being done,
She gave me for my pains a world of sighs:
She swore, In faith, 'twas strange, 'twas passing

strange; 'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful; She wish’d, she had not heard it yet she wish'd That heaven had made her such a man: she thank'd

And bade me, if I had a friend that lov'd her,
I should but teach him how to tell my story,

* My behaviour. + Parts.
| Intention and attention were once synonymous

And that would woo her. Upon this hint, 1 spako:
She lov'd me for the dangers I had pass'd;
Ana I lov'd her, that she did pity them.



O my soul's joy! If after every teinpest come such calms, May the winds blow till they have waken'd death! And let the labouring bark climb hills of seas, Olympus-high; and duck again as low As hell's from heaven! If it were now to die, 'Twere now to be most happy; for, I fear, My soul hath her content so absolute, That not another comfort like to this Suceeds in unknown fate.



Desdemona. I will come to thee straight.

Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul,
But I do love thee! and when I love thee not,
Chaos is come again.

Oth. What Jost thou think?

Think, my

lord? Oih.

Think, my lord By heaven, he echoes me, As if there were some monster in his thought Too hideous to be shown.--Thou dost mean some

thing: I heard thee say but now- Thou lik’dst not that, When Cass:o left my wife; What did'st not like? And, when I told thee--he was of my counsel In my whole course of wooing, thcu cry'dst, Indeed? And didst contract and purse thy brow together, As if thou then had'st shut up in thy brain

Some horrible conceit: If thou dost love me,
Show me thy thought.
lago. My lord, you know I love you.

I think, thou dost; And, for I know thou art fall of love and honesty, And weighost thy words before thou givist them

breath, Therefore these stops of thine fright me the more: For such things. in a false disloyal knave, Are tricks of custom; but in a man that's just, They are close denotements, working from the heart, That passion cannot rule.

REPUTATION. Good name, in man and woman, dear my lord, Is the immediate jewel of their souls: Who steals my purse, steals trash; 'tis something,

nothing; 'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands; But he, that filches from me my good name, Robs me of that, which not enriches him, And makes me poor indeed.

This fellow's of exceeding honesty,
And knows all qualities with a learned spirit,
of human dealings: If I do prove her haggard,*
Though that her jessest were nıy dear heart-strings,
I'd whistle her off, and let down the wind,
To pray at fortune. Haply, for I am black;
And have not those soft parts of conversation,
That chambererst have:-Or, for I am declin'd
Into the vale of years;-yet that's not much;-

gone; I am abus'd, and my relief
Must be—to loath her. O curse of marriage,
That we can call these delicate creatures ours,
And not their appetites! I had rather be a toad,
And live upon the vapour of a dungeon,

* A species of hawk, also a term of reproach applied to & wanton.

+ Straps of leather by which a hawk is held on the fist. # Men of intrigue.



Than keep a corner in the thing I love,
For other's uses.

Trifles, light as air,
Are, to the jealous, confirmations strong
As proofs of holy writ.

Iago. Look, where he comes! [Enter Othello.
Not poppy, nor mandragora,*
Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world,
Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep
Which thou ow'dstt yesterday.

Ha! ha! false to me? To me:

Iago. Why, how now, general? no more of that. Oth. Avaunt! be gone! thou hast set me on the

rack:I swear, 'tis better to be much abus'd, Than but to know't a little. lago.

How now, my lord? Oth. What sense had I of her stolen hours of lust? I saw it not, thought it not, it harm’d not me: I slept the next night well, was free and merry; I found not Cassio's kisses upon her lips: He that is robb’d, not wanting what is stolen, Let him not know it, and he's not robb’d at all.

Iago. I am sorry to hear this.

Oih. I had been happy, if the general camp,
Pioneerst and all, had tasted her sweet body,
So I had nothing known: 0 now, for ever,
Farewell the tranquil mind! farewell content!
Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars,
l'hat make ambition virtue! 0, farewell!
Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump,
The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife,
The royal banner; and all quality,
Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war
And O you mortal engines, whose rude throats

* The mandrake has a soporific quality.
+ Possessed'st.
# The vilest of the camp.

Pioneers were generally degraded soldiers.

The immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit,
Farewell! Othello's occupation's gone!

lago. Is it possible !-My lord,

Oih. Villain, be sure thou prove my love a whore Be sure of it; give me the occular proof:

[Taking him by the throat Or, by the worth of mine eternal soul, Thou hadst been better have been born a dog, Than answer my wak'd wrath. Iago.

Is it come to this? Oih. Make me to see it; or (at the least) so prove it, That the probation bear no hinge, nor loop, To hang a doubt on: or, wo upon thy life! Iago. My noble lord

Oih. If thou doth slander her, and torture me, Never pray more: abandon all remorse:* On horror's head horrors accumulate: Do deeds to make heaven weep, all earth amaz’d, For nothing canst thou to damnation add, Greater than that. Iago.

O grace! O heaven defend me! Are you a man? have you a soul, or sense?God be wi' you; take mine office.-- wretched fool, That liv'st to make thine honesty a vice! O monstrous world! Take note! take note, O world, To be direct and honest, is not safe.I thank you for this profit; and, from hence, I'll love no friend, since love breeds such offence.

Oth. Nay, stay:-Thou should'st be honest.

Iago. I should be wise: for honesty's a fool,
And loses that it works for.

By the world,
I think my wife be honest, and think she is not;
I think that thou art just, and think thou art not;
I'll have some proof: Her name, that was as fresh
As Dian's visage, is now begrim'd and black
As mine own face.-If there be cords, or knires,
Poison, or fire, or suffocating streams,
I'll not endure it.-Would, I were satisfied.

* All tenderness, all pity.

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