ОTH. 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 bade me tell it :
Wherein I spake of most disastrous chances;
Of moving accidents by flood and field;
Of hair-breadth scapes i' the imminent-deadly
breach;

Of being taken by the insolent foe

And sold to slavery; of my redemption thence,
And portance in my travel's § history:
Wherein of antres vast, and deserts idle,
Rough quarries, rocks and hills whose heads T
touch heaven,

It was my hint to speak,-such was

process;

the **

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, 't was strange, 't was passing
strange;

'T was pitiful, 't was 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.

Enter DESDEMONA, IAGO, and Attendants.

DUKE. I think this tale would win my daughter

too.Good Brabantio,

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, my lord.
DUKE. Let me speak like yourself; and lay a
sentence,

a Which, but thou hast already, with all my heart-] A line wanting in the earlier quarto.

Which, as a grise, 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.

() First folio omits the words, Into your favour.

b Let me speak like yourself;] He perhaps means, sententiously.

UU

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

He robs himself that spends a bootless griej.

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

state.

DUKE. The Turk with a most mighty preparation makes for Cyprus:-Othello, the fortitude of the place is best known to you; and though we have there a substitute of most allowed sufficiency, yet opinion, a sovereign mistress of effects, throws a more safer voice on you: you must therefore be content to slubber the gloss of your new fortunes with this more stubborn and boisterous expedition.

Отн. The tyrant custom, most grave senators, Hath made the flinty and steel couch of war My thrice-driven bed of down: I do agnize A natural and prompt alacrity

b

I find in hardness; and do undertake
These present wars against the Ottomites.
Most humbly, therefore, bending to your state,
I crave fit disposition for my wife;
Due reference of place and exhibition;
With such accommodation and besort

As levels with her breeding.

And let me find a charter in your voice, To assist my simpleness.

DUKE. What would you, Desdemona? DES. That I did love the Moor to live with hi My downright violence and storm* of fortunes May trumpet to the world: my heart's subdu'd Even to the very quality of my lord: * I saw Othello's visage in his mind; And to his honours and his valiant parts Did I my soul and fortunes consecrate. So that, dear lords, if I be left behind, A moth of peace, and he go to the war, The rites for which I love him are bereft me, And I a heavy interim shall support By his dearf absence. Let me go with him. Отн. Let her have your voice." Vouch with me, heaven, I therefore beg it not. To please the palate of my appetite; Nor to comply with heat (the young affects In me‡ defunct) and proper satisfaction; But to be free and bounteous to her mind: And heaven defend your good souls, that you this I will your serious and great business scant For§ she is with me: no, when light-wing'd ters Of feather'd Cupid seel with wanton dulness My speculative and offic'd instruments," That my disports corrupt and taint my business, Let housewives make a skillet of my helm, And all indign and base adversities Make head against my estimation!

DUKE. Be it as you shall privately determine. Either for her stay or going: the affair cries bast And speed must answer it.

1 SEN. You must away to-night.'
Отн.
With all hear
DUKE. At nine i' the morning here we'll me

again.

Othello, leave some officer behind,

my

To his conveyance I assign my wife,
With what else needful your good grace shall think
To be sent after me.

Let it be so.

DUKE. Good night to every one.-And, noble signior, [TO BRABANTIO. If virtue no delighted" beauty lack, Your son-in-law is far more fair than black.

1 SEN. Adieu, brave Moor! use Desdemona well.

BRA. Look to her, Moor, if thou hast eyes to see;b

She has deceiv'd her father, and may thee.

[Exeunt DUKE, Senators, Officers, &c.
Отн. My life upon her faith!-Honest Iago,
My Desdemona must I leave to thee:
I pr'ythee, let thy wife attend on her;
And bring them after in the best advantage.—
Come, Desdemona, I have but an hour
Of love, of worldly matter, and direction,
To spend with thee: we must obey the time.
[Exeunt OTHELLO and DESDEMONA.

ROD. Iago,-
IAGO. What say'st thou, noble heart?
ROD. What will I do, think'st thou ?

IAGO. Why, go to bed, and sleep.
ROD. I will incontinently drown myself.
IAGO. If thou dost, I shall never love thee
after. Why, thou silly gentleman!

ROD. It is silliness to live when to live is torment; and then have we a prescription to die, when death is our physician.

IAGO. O, villanous! I have looked upon the world for four times seven years; and since I could distinguish betwixt a benefit and an injury, I never found man that knew how to love himself. Ere I would say, I would drown myself for the love of a Guinea-hen, I would change my humanity with a baboon.

ROD. What should I do? I confess it is my shame to be so fond; but it is not in my virtue to amend it.

IAGO. Virtue! a fig! 'tis in ourselves that we are thus or thus. Our bodies are our gardens; to the which our wills are gardeners: so that if we will plant nettles, or sow lettuce; set hyssop, and weed up thyme; supply it with one gender of herbs, or distract it with many; either to have it sterile with idleness, or manured with industry; why, the power and corrigible authority of this lies in our wills. If the balance of our lives had not one scale of reason to poise another of sensuality,

(*) First folio, braine.

ano delighted beauty lack,-] "Delighted" is here used for delighting; the passive participle for the active.

bif thou hast eyes to see;] The 1622 quarto reads, we think preferably," have a quick eye to see," &c.

cdefeat thy favour with an usurped beard ;] Change, or disfigure thy countenance by putting on a spurious beard.

659

the blood and baseness of our natures would conduct us to most preposterous conclusions: but we have reason to cool our raging motions, our carnal stings, our unbitted lusts; whereof I take this, that you call love, to be a sect or scion.

Rob. It cannot be.

IAGO. It is merely a lust of the blood and a permission of the will. Come, be a man: drown thyself! drown cats and blind puppies. I have professed me thy friend, and I confess me knit to thy deserving with cables of perdurable toughness. I could never better stead thee than now. Put money in thy purse; follow thou the wars; defeat thy favour with an usurped beard; I say, put money in thy purse. It cannot be that Desdemona should long continue her love to the Moor," -put money in thy purse,-nor he his to her: it was a violent commencement, and thou shalt see an answerable sequestration ;-put but money in thy purse. These Moors are changeable in their wills;-fill thy purse with money: the food that to him now is as luscious as locusts, shall be to him shortly as bitter as coloquintida.(5) She must change for youth when she is sated with his body, she will find the error of her choice: she must have change, she must: therefore put money in thy purse. If thou wilt needs damn thyself, do it a more delicate way than drowning. Make all the money thou canst: if sanctimony and a frail vow, betwixt an erring barbarian and a super-subtle Venetian, be not too hard for my wits and all the tribe of hell, thou shalt enjoy her; therefore make money. A pox of drowning thyself! it is clean out of the way: seek thou rather to be hanged in compassing thy joy, than to be drowned and go without her.

ROD. Wilt thou be fast to my hopes, if I depend on the issue?

IAGO. Thou art sure of me ;-go, make money: -I have told thee often, and I re-tell thee again and again, I hate the Moor: my cause is hearted, thine hath no less reason; let us be conjunctive in our revenge against him. If thou canst cuckold him, thou dost thyself a pleasure, me a sport. There are many events in the womb of time, which will be delivered. Traverse! go; provide thy money. We will have more of this to-morrow.

Adieu.

ROD. Where shall we meet i' the morning?
IAGO. At my lodging.

ROD. I'll be with thee betimes.

IAGO. Go to; farewell. Do you hear, Roderigo?

(*) First folio omits, a.

d It cannot be that Desdemona should long continue her love to the Moor,] In the folio, "It cannot be long that Desdemona should continue," &c.

she must have change, she must;] These words are not in the folio.

UU 2

ROD. What say you?

your purse.

IAGO. No more of drowning, do you hear? ROD. I am changed: I'll go sell all my land." IAGO. Go to; farewell! put money enough in [Exit RODERIGO. Thus do I ever make my fool my purse; For I mine own gain'd knowledge should profane, If I would time expend with such a snipe, But for my sport and profit.-I hate the Moor; And it is thought abroad, that 'twixt my sheets He has done my office; I know not if 't be true; But I, for mere suspicion in that kind,

*

Will do as if for surety. He holds me well; The better shall my purpose work on him.

(*) First folio, She.

a I'll go sell all my land.] The folio abbreviates the foregoing dialogue thus,

Cassio's a proper man: let me see now ;-
To get his place, and to plume up my will,
A double knavery,-How, how?-Let's see:-
After some time, to abuse Othello's ear t
That he is too familiar with his wife:-
He hath a person, and a smooth dispose,
To be suspected; fram'd to make women false.
The Moor is of a free and open nature,
That thinks men honest that but seem to be so;
And will as tenderly be led by the nose
As asses are.

I have 't;-it is engender'd:-hell and night Must bring this monstrous birth to the world' light.

(*) First folio, In

[Ent

"Do you hear, Roderigo? Rod. Ile sell all my Land.