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The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads

Do grow beneath their shoulders. 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 parcels she had something heard,
But not intentively: 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 me;
And bade me, if I had a friend that lov'd her,

I should but teach him how to tell my story,

And that would woo her. Upon this hint, I spake:

She lov'd me for the dangers I had pass'd;

And I lov'd her, that she did pity them,
This only is the witchcraft I have us'd;

Here comes the lady, let her witness it.

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Enter DESDEMONA, IAGO, and Attendants.

Duke. I think, this tale would win my daughter

too.

Good Brabantio,

Take up this mangled matter at the best:
Men do their broken weapons rather use,
Than their bare hands.

Bra.

I pray you, hear her speak;

If she confess, that she was half the wooer,
Destruction on my head, if my bad blame
Light on the man!-Come hither, gentle mistress;
you perceive in all this noble company,
Where most you owe obedience?

Do

Des.

I do perceive here a divided duty:

To

My noble father,

you I am bound for life, and education;

My life, and education, both do learn me

How to respect you; you are the lord of duty,

I am hitherto your daughter: But here's my husband;
And so much duty as my mother show'd
To you, preferring you before her father,
So much I challenge that I may profess
Due to the Moor, my lord.

Bra.
God be with you!-I have done :-
Please it your grace, on to the state affairs;
I had rather to adopt a child, than get it.—
Come hither, Moor:

I here do give thee that with all my heart,
Which, but thou hast already, with all my heart

I would keep from thee.-For your sake, jewel,
I am glad at soul I have no other child;
For thy escape would teach me tyranny,
To hang clogs on them.-I have done,
Duke. 22 Let me speak like yourself; and lay a sen

tence,

my lord.

Which, as a grise 23, or step, may help these lovers
Into your favour.

When remedies are past, the griefs are ended,

By seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended.
To mourn a mischief that is past and gone,

Is the next way to draw new mischief on.
What cannot be preserv'd when fortune takes,
Patience her injury a mockery makes

The robb'd, that smiles, steals something from the

thief;

He robs himself, that spends a bootless grief.
Bra. So let the Turk of Cyprus us beguile;
We lose it not, so long as we can smile.
He bears the sentence well, that nothing bears
But the free comfort which from thence he hears:
But he bears both the sentence and the sorrow,
That, to pay grief, must of poor patience borrow.
These sentences, to sugar, or to gall,

Being strong on both sides, are equivocal:
But words are words; I never yet did hear,
That the bruis'd heart was pierced through the ear.
I humbly beseech you, proceed to the affairs of state.
Duke. The Turk with a most mighty preparation
makes for Cyprus:-Othello, the fortitude of the

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