THE Tragoedy of Othello, The Moore of Venice. As it hath beene diuerse times acted at the Globe, and at the Black-Friers, by his Maiesties Seruants.

Written by VVilliam Shakespeare.

LONDON, Printed by N. O. for Thomas Walkley, and are to be sold [...] shop, at the Eagle and Child, in Brittans Bursse, 1622.

The Stationer to the Reader.

TO set forth a booke without an Epistle, were like to the old English prouerbe, A blew coat without a badge, & the Au­thor being dead, I thought good to take that piece of worke vpon mee: To com­mend it, I will not, for that which is good, I hope euery man will commend, without intreaty: and I am the bol­der, because the Authors name is sufficient to vent his worke. Thus leauing euery one to the liberty of iudge­ment: I haue ventered to print this Play, and leaue it to the generall censure.

Yours, Thomas VValkley.

The Tragedy of Othello the Moore of Venice.

Enter Iago and Roderigo.
Roderigo.
TVsh, neuer tell me, I take it much vnkindly
That you Iago, who has had my purse,
As if the strings were thine, should'st know of this.
Iag.
S'blood, but you will not heare me,
If euer I did dreame of such a matter, abhorre me.
Rod.
Thou toldst me, thou didst hold him in thy hate.
Iag.
Despise me if I doe not: three great ones of the Citty
In personall suite to make me his Leiutenant,
Oft capt to him, and by the faith of man,
I know my price, I am worth no worse a place.
But he, as louing his owne pride and purposes,
Euades them, with a bumbast circumstance,
Horribly stuft with Epithites of warre:
And in conclusion,
Non-suits my mediators: for certes, sayes he,
I haue already chosen my officer, and what was he?
Forsooth, a great Arithmetition,
One Michael Cassio, a Florentine,
A fellow almost dambd in a faire wife,
That neuer set a squadren in the field,
Nor the deuision of a Battell knowes,
[Page 2] More then a Spinster, vnlesse the bookish Theorique,
Wherein the [...]oged Consuls can propose
As masterly as he: meere pra [...]tle without practise,
Is all his souldier-shippe: but he sir had the election,
And I, of whom his eyes had seene the proofe,
At Rhodes, at Cipres, and on other grounds,
Christian and Heathen, must be led, and calm'd,
By Debitor and Creditor, this Counter-caster:
He in good time, must his Leiutenant be,
And I, God bles [...]e the marke, his Worships Ancient.
Rod.
By heauen I rather would haue bin his hangman.
Ia.
But there's no remedy,
Tis the curse of seruice,
Preferment goes by letter and affection,
Not by the olde gradation, where each second
Stood heire to the first:
Now sir be iudge your self [...],
Whether I, in any iust tearme am assign'd
to loue the Moore.
Rod.
I would not follow him then.
la.
O sir, content you,
I follow him to serue my turne vpon him,
We cannot be all masters, nor all masters
Cannot be truely followed, you shall marke.
Many a dutious and knee-crooking knaue,
That doting on his owne obsequious bondage,
Weares out his time much like his masters Asse,
For noughe but prouender, and when hee's old cashierd,
Whip mee such honest knaues:
Others there are, who trimd in formes,
And vissages of duty, keepe yet their hearts,
Attending on themselues, and throwing
But shewes of seruice on their Lords▪
Doe well thriue by 'em,
And when they haue lin'd their coates,
Doe themselues homage,
Those fellowes haue some soule,
[Page 3] And such a one doe I professe my selfe,—for sir,
It is as sure as you are Roderig [...],
Were I the Moore, I would not be Iage:
In following him, I follow but my selfe.
Heauen is my iudge, not I,
For loue and duty, but seeming so,
For my peculiar end.
For when my outward action does demonstrate
The natiue act, and figure of my heart,
In complement externe▪ tis not long after,
But I will weare my heart vpon my sleeue,
For Doues to pecke at,
I am not what I am.
Rod.
What a full fortune does the thicklips owe,
If he can carry'et thus?
Ia.
Call vp her father.
Rowse him, make after him, poyson his delight,
Proclaime him in the streete, incense her Kinsmen,
And tho he in a fe [...]tile climate dwell,
Plague him with [...]lyes: tho that his ioy be ioy.
Yet throw such [...] of vexation out,
As it may loose [...] colour.
Rod
Here is [...] [...]athers house, Ile call aloud.
Ia.
Doe with [...]ike timerous accent, and dire yell,
As when by night and negligence, the fire
Is spied in populous Citties.
Rod.
What ho, Brabantio, Seignior Braba [...]tio, ho,
Ia.
Awake, what ho, Braba [...]ti [...],
Theeues, theeues, theeues:
Looke to your house, you Daughter, and your bags,
Theeues, theeues.
Brabantio at a window.
Brab.
What is the reason of this terrible summons?
What is the matter there?
Rod.
Seignior, is all your family within?
Ia.
Are all doore lockts?
Brab.
[Page 4]
Why, wherefore aske you this?
Iag▪
Zounds sir you are robd, for shame put on your gowne,
Your heart is burst, you haue lost [...]alfe your soule;
Euen now, very now, an old blacke Ram
Is tupping your white Ewe; arise, arise,
Awake the s [...]orting Citizens with the Bell,
Or else the Diuell will make a Grandsire of you, arise I say.
Brab.
What, haue you lost your wits?
Rod.
Most reuerend Seignior, doe you know my voyce?
Bra.
Not I, what are you?
Rod.
My name is Roderig [...].
Bra.
The worse welcome,
I haue charg'd thee, not to haunt about my dores,
In honest plainenesse, thou hast heard me say
My d [...]ughter is not for thee, and now in madnes,
Being full of supper, and distempering draughts,
Vpon maliciou [...] brauery, dost thou come
To start my quiet?
Rod.
Sir, sir, sir.
Bra.
But thou must needes be sure
My spirit and my place haue in them powe [...]
To make this bitter to thee.
Rod.
Patience good sir.
Bra.
What, tell'st thou me of robbing? this [...],
My house is not a graunge.
Rod.
Most graue Brabanti [...],
In simple and pure soule I come to you.
Iag.

Zouns Sir, you are one of those, that will not serue God, if the Deuill bid you. Because we come to doe you seruice, you thinke we are Ruffians, youle haue your daughter couered with a Barbary horse; youle haue your Nephewes ney to you; youle haue Coursers for Cousens, and Iennits for Iermans.

Bra.
What prophane wretch art thou?
Iag.
I am one sir, that come to tell you, your daughter, and the
Moore, are now making the Beast with two backs.
Bra.
Thou art a villaine.
Iag.
You are a Senator.
Bra.
[Page 5]
This thou sha [...] [...], I know thee [...]
Rod.
Sir, I will answer any thing▪ But I bes [...]ech you,
If she b [...] in her [...]
Let loose on me the Iustice of the state,
For this delusion.
Bra.
Strike on the tinder, Ho:
Giue me a taper, call vp all [...]y people:
This accident is not vnlike my dreame,
Beleefe of it oppresses me already:
Light I say, light.
Iag.
Farewell, for I must leaue you,
It seemes not meete, not whole some to my pate,
To be produc'd, as if I stay I shall
Against the Moore, for I doe know the state,
How euer this may gaule him with some checke,
Cannot with safety cast him, for [...]ee's imbark'd,
With such loud reason, to the Cip [...]es warres,
Which euen now stands i [...] act, that for their soules,
Another of his fathome, they haue not
To leade their businesse, in which regard,
Tho I doe hate him, as I doe hells paines,
Yet for necessity of present life,
I must shew out a flag, and signe of loue,
Which is indeed but signe, that you shall surely
Finde him: lead to the Sagittar, the raised sea [...]ch,
And there will I be with him. So farewell.
Ex [...].
Enter Barbantio in his night [...].
Bra.
It is too t [...]ue an euill, go [...]e she is,
And what's to come, of my despised time,
Is nought but bitternesse now [...],
Where didst thou see her; O vnhappy girle,
With the Moore sai [...]t thou? who would be a father?
How didst thou know [...]twas she? O thou deceiuest me
Past thought: what said [...]he to you? get more [...]apers,
[Page 6] Raise all my kindred, are they married thinke you?
Rod.
Truely I thinke they are.
Bra.
O heauen, how got she out? O treason of the blood,
Fathers from hence, trust not your Daughters mindes,
By what you see them act, is there not charmes,
By which the property of youth and manhood
May be abus' [...]? haue you not read R [...]der [...]g [...],
Of some such thing.
Rod.
I haue sir.
Bra.
Call vp my brother: O that you had had her,
Some one way, some another; doe you know
Where we may apprehend her, and the Moore?
Rod.
I thinke I can discouer him, if you please
To get good guard, and goe along with me.
Bra.
Pray leade me on, at euery house Ile call,
I may command at most [...] g [...]t weapons ho,
And raise some speciall Officers of night:
On good Roderigo, Ile deserue your paynes.
Exe [...]nt.
Enter Othello, Iago, and attendants with Torches.
Ia.
Tho in the trade of warre, I haue slaine men,
Yet doe I hold it very stuft of Conscience.
To doe no contriu'd murr [...]er; I lacke iniquity
Sometimes to doe me seruice▪ nine or▪ ten times,
I had thought to haue ierk'd him here,
Vnder the ribbes.
Oth.
Tis better as it is.
Iag.
Nay, but he [...].
And spoke such scuruy, and prouo [...]ing tearmes
Against your Honor, that with the little godliness [...] I haue,
I did full hard forbeare him: but I pray si [...],
Are you fast married? For be sure of this,
That the Magnifico is much beloued,
And hath in his effect, a voyce potentiall,
As double as the Dukes, he will diuorce you,
Or put vpon you what [...]estraint, and gre [...]uance,
That law with all his might [...]
[Page 7] Weele giue him cable.
Oth.
Let him doe his spite,
My seruices which I haue done the Seig [...]torie,
Shall out tongue his complaints, tis yet to know,
That boasting is an honour,
I shall provulgate, I fetch my life and being,
From men of royall height, and my demerrits,
May speake vnbonnited to as proud a fortune
As this that I haue reach'd; for know Iago;
But that I loue the gentle Desdemonae,
I would not, my vnhoused free condition,
Put into circum [...]cription and confine
For the seas worth,
Enter Cassio with lights▪ Officers, and torches.
But looke what lights come yonder.
la.
These are the raised Father and his friends,
You were best goe in:
Oth.
Not I, I must be found,
My parts, my Title, and my perfect soule,
Shall manifest me rightly: it is they.
la.
By Ian [...]s I thinke no.
Oth.
The seruants of the Duke, and my Leiutenant,
The goodnesse of the night vpon your friends,
What is the newes.
Cas.
The Duke does greete you Generall,
And he requires your hast, post hast appearance,
Euen on the instant.
Oth.
What's the matter thinke you:
Cas.
Something from Cipres, as I may diuine,
It is a businesse of some heate, the Galleyes
Haue sent a dozen frequent messengers
This very night, at one anothets heeles:
And many of the Con [...]uls rais'd, and met,
Are at the Dukes already; you haue bin hotly cald for,
When being not at your lodging to be found,
The Senate sent aboue three seuerall quests
To s [...]arch you out.
Otht▪
Tis well I am found by you,
[Page 8] Ile spend a word here in the house, and goe with you.
Cas.
Auncient, what makes he here?
Ia.
Faith he to night, hath boorded a land Carrick;
If it proue lawfull prize, hee's made for euer.
Cas.
I doe not vnderstand.
Ia.
Hee's married,
Cas.
To who?
Enters Brabantio, Roderigo, and others with lights and weapons.
Ia.
Marry to.—Come Captaine, will you goe?
Oth.
Ha, with who?
Cas.
Here comes another troupe to seeke for you.
Ia.
It is Brabantio, Generall be aduisde,
He comes to bad intent.
Oth.
Holla, stand there.
Rod.
Seignior, it is the Moore.
Cra.
Downe with him theife.
Ia.
You Roderigo, Come sir, I am for you.
Oth.
Keepe vp your bright swords, for the dew will rust em,
Good Seignior you shall more command with yeares
Then with your weapons.
Bra.
O thou foule theefe, where hast thou [...]towed my daughter?
Dambd as thou art, thou haft inchanted her,
For ile referre me to all thing of sense,
Whether a maide so tender, faire, and happy,
So opposite to marriage, that she shund
The wealthy cu [...]ed darlings of our Nation,
Would euer haue (to incurre a general mocke)
Runne from her gardage to the sooty bosome
Of such a thing as thou? to feare, not to delight,
Such an abuser of the world, a practiser
Of Arts inhibited, and out of warrant?
Lay hold vpon him, if he doe resist,
Subdue him at his perill.
Oth.
Hold your hands:
Both you of my inclining and the rest,
[Page 9] Were it my Qu. to fight, I should haue knowne it,
Without a prompter, where will you that I goe,
And answer this your charge?
Bra.
To prison till fit time
Of Law, and course of direct Session,
Call thee to answer▪
Oth.
What if I doe obey,
How may the Duke be therewith satisfied,
Whose Messengers are heere about my side,
Vpon some present businesse of the State,
To beare me to him.
Officer.
Tis true most worthy Seignior,
The Duke's in Councell, and your noble selfe,
I am sure is sent for.
Bra.
How? the Duke in Councell?
In this time of the night? bring him away,
Mine's not an idle cause, the Duke himselfe,
Or any of my Brothers of the State,
Cannot but feele this wrong, as twere their ow [...]e.
For if such actions, may haue passage free,
Bondslaues, and Pagans, shal our Statesmen be.
Exeunt.
Enter Duke and Senators, set at a Table with lights and Attendants.
Duke.
There is no Composition in these newes,
That giues them credit.
1 Sena.
Indeede they are disproportioned,
My letters say, a hundred and seuen Gallies.
Du.
And mine a hundred and forty.
2 Sena.
And mine two hundred:
But though they iumpe not on a iust account,
As in these cases, where they aym'd reports,
Tis oft with difference, yet doe they all confirme
A Turkish fleete, and bearing vp to Ci [...]resse.
Du.
Nay, it is possible enough to iudgement:
I doe not so secure me to the error,
But the mayne Articles I doe approue
[Page 10] In fearefull sense.
Enter a Messenger.
One within.
What ho, what ho, what ho?
Sailor.
A messenger from the Galley.
Du.
Now, the businesse?
Sailor.
The Turkish preparation makes for Rh [...]des,
So was I bid report here, to the state.
Du.
How say you by this change?
1 Sena.
This cannot be by no assay of reason—
Tis a Pageant,
To keepe vs in false gaze: when we consider
The importancy of Cypresse to the Turke:
And let our selues a gaine, but vnderstand,
That as it more concernes the Turke the [...] Rhodes,
So may he with more facile question beare it.
D [...].
And in all confidence, hee's not for Rhodes.
Officer.
Here is more newes.
Enter a 2. Messenger.
Mes.
The Ottamites, reuerend and gracious,
Steering with due course, toward the Isle of Rhodes,
Haue there inioynted with an after fleete
Of 30. [...]ile, and now they doe resterine
Their backward course, bearing with franke appearance.
Their purposes towards Cypresse: Seignior Montano,
Your trusty and most valiant seruitor;
With h [...] free du [...]y recommends you thus,
And p [...]ayes you to b [...]leeue him.
Du.
Tis certaine then for Cypresse,
Ma [...]cus Lucci [...]os is not here in Town [...].
1 Sena.
Hee's [...] Florence.
Du.
Write [...] vs, wish him post, post hast dispatch;
[...] Othello, Roderigo, Iago, Cassio,
[...] and Off [...]cers.
[...] Brabantio [...]nd the valiant Moore.
[...] straite imploy you,
[...] Ottaman;
[...] Seig [...]ior,
[...] your helpe to night,
Bra.
[Page 11]
So did I yours, good your Grace pardon me,
Neither my place, nor ought I heard of businesse
Hath rais'd me from my bed, nor doth the generall care
Take any hold of me, for my particular griefes,
Is of so floodgate and orebearing nature,
Tha [...] it engluts and swallowes other sorrowes,
And it is still it selfe.
Du.
Why, what's the matter?
Bra.
My daughter, O my daughter.
All.
Dead?
Bra.
I to me:
She is abus'd, stolne from me and corrupted,
By spels and medicines, bought of mountebancks,
For nature so preposterously to erre,
Saunce witchcraft could not.
Du.
Who ere he be, that in this foule proceeding
Hath thus beguild your daughter of her selfe,
And you of her, the bloody booke of Law,
You shall your selfe, read in the bitter letter,
After its owne sense, tho our proper sonne
Stood in your action.
Bra.
Humbly I thanke your Grace;
Here is the man, this Moore, whom now it seemes
Your speciall mandate, for the State affaires
Hath hither brought.
All.
We are very sorry for't.
Du.
What in your owne part can you say to this?
Bra.
Nothing, but this is so.
Oth.
Most potent, graue, and reuerend Seigniors,
My very noble and approoued good maisters:
That I haue ta [...]e away this old mans daughter,
It is most true: true, I haue married her,
The very head and front of my offending,
Hath this extent no more. Rude am I in my spe [...]ch,
And little blest with the set phrase of peace,
For since these armes of mine had seuen yeares pith,
Till now some nine Moones wasted, they haue vs'd
[Page 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 cause,
In speaking for my selfe; yet by your gracious patience,
I will a round vnuarnish'd tale deliver,
Of my whole course of loue, [...] what charmes,
What coniuration, and what mighty Magicke,
(For such proceedings am I charg'd [...])
I wonne his daughter.
Bra.
A maiden neuer bold of spirit,
So still and quiet, that her motion
Blusht at her selfe: and she in spite of nature,
Of yeares, of Countrey, credit, euery thing,
To fall in loue with what she fear'd to looke on?
It is a iudgement maimd, and most imperfect,
That will confesse perfection, so would erre
Against all rules of Nature, and must be driuen,
To finde out practises of cunning hell,
Why this should be, I therefore vouch againe,
That with some mixtures powerfull ore the blood,
Or with some dram coniur'd to this effect,
He wrought vpon her.
Du.
To youth this is no proofe,
Without more certaine and more ouert test,
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 courses,
Subdue and poison this young maides affections?
Or came it by request, and such faire question,
As soule to soule affoordeth?
Oth.
I doe beseech 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
[Page 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 faithfull as to heauen,
So iustly to your graue eares I'le present,
How I did thriue 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 past:
I ran it through, euen from my boyish dayes,
Toth' very moment that he bade me tell it.
Wherein I spake of most disastrous chances,
Of moouing accident of flood and field;
Of heire-breadth scapes ith imminent deadly breach;
Of being taken by the insolent foe:
And sold to slauery, and my redemption thence,
And with it all my trauells Historie;
Wherein of Antrees vast, and Deserts idle,
Rough quarries, rocks and hils, 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 obseruing,
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,
But not intentiuely, I did consent,
And of [...]en did beguile her of her teares,
[Page 14] When I did speake of some distressed stroake
That my youth suffered: my story being done;
She gaue me for my paines a world of sighes;
She swore I faith twas strange, twas passing strange;
Twas pittifull, twas wondrous pitt [...]full;
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 wooe her. Vpon this heate I spake:
She lou'd me for the dangers I had past.
And I [...]ou'd her that [...] did pitty them.
This onely is the witchcraft I haue vs'd:
Here comes the Lady,
Let her wit [...]esse it.
Enter Desdemona, Iago, and the rest.
Du.
I thinke this tale would win my daughter to,—
Good Braba [...]tio, 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 [...]ite on me, if my bad blame
Light on the man. Come hither gentle mistresse:
Doe you perceiue in all this noble company,
Where most you owe obedience?
Des.
My noble father,
I doe perceiue here a deuided duty:
To you I am bound for l [...]fe and education;
My life and education both do [...] 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 profess [...],
[...] Moore my Lord,
Bra.
[Page 15]
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 sake Ie [...]ell,
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 greese or step may helpe these louers
Into your fauour.
When remedies are past, the griefes are ended,
By seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended▪
To mourne a mischeife that is past and gone,
Is the next way to draw more mischiefe on;
What cannot be preseru'd when fortune takes,
Patience her iniury a mockery makes.
The rob'd that smiles, steales something from the thiefe,
He robs himselfe, that spends a bootelesse 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 heares:
But he beares both the sentence and the sorrow,
That to pay griefe, must 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 [...]are:
Beseech you now, to the affaires of the state.
Du.

The Turke with most mighty preparation makes for Cipre [...]: Othell [...], the fortitude of the place, is best knowne to you, and tho we haue there a substitute of most allowed sufficiency, yet opinion, a so­ueraigne mistresse of effects, throwes a more safer voyce on you: you must therefore bee content to slubber the gloss [...] of your new for­ [...]nes, with this more stubborne and boisterous expedition.

Oth.
[Page 16]
The tyrant custome most great Senators,
Hath made the flinty and steele Cooch of warre,
My thrice driuen bed of downe: I doe ag [...]ize
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 reuerence of place and exhibition,
Which such accomodation? and besort
A [...] leuels with her breeding.
Du.
If you please, bee' [...] at her fathers.
Bra.
Ile not haue it so.
Oth.
Nor I.
Desd.
Nor I, I would not there reside,
To put my father in impatient thoughts,
By being in his eye: most gracious Duke,
To my vnfolding lend a gracious [...]are,
And let me finde a charter in your voyce,
And if my simplenesse.—
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,
[...]uen to the vtmost pleasure of my Lord:
I saw Othelloes vissage in his minde,
And to his Honors, and his valiant parts
Did I my soule and fortunes consecrate:
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 bereft me,
And I a heauy interim shall support,
By his deare absence, le [...] me goe with him.
Oth.
Your voyces Lords: beseech you let her will,
Haue a free way, I therefore b [...]g it not
To [...] the [...] of my appe [...]e,
No [...] to com [...]y with [...], the young affects▪
[Page 17] In my defunct, and proper satisfaction,
But to be free and bounteous of her mind,
And heauen defend your good soules that you thinke
I will your serious and good businesse scant,
For she is with me;— [...], when light-wingd toyes,
And feather'd Cupid foyles with wanton dulnesse,
My speculatiue and actiue instruments,
That my disports, corrupt and taint my businesse,
Let huswiues make a skellet of my Helme,
And all indigne and base aduersities,
Make head against my reputation.
Du.
Be it, as you shall priuately determine,
Either for stay or going, the affaires cry hast,
And speede must answer, 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 else of quality or respect,
As doth concerne you.
Oth.
Please your Grace, my Ancient,
A man he is of honesty and trust,
To his conueyance I assigne my wife,
With what else needefull your good Grace shall thinke,
To be sent after me.
Du.
Let it be so:
Good night to euery one, and noble Seignior,
If virtue no delighted beauty lacke,
Your son [...]n law is farre more faire then blacke.
I Sena.
Adue braue Moore, vse Desdemona well.
Bra.
Looke to her Moore, haue a quicke eye to see,
She has deceiu'd her father, may doe thee.
Ex [...]nt.
Oth.
My life vpon her faith: honest Iago,
My Desdemona must I leaue to thee,
I preethee let thy wife attend on her,
[Page 18] 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.
Rod.
Iago.
Exit Moore and Desdemona.
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 thee after it,
W [...]y, thou silly Gentlem [...]n.
Rod.

It is sillinesse to liue, when to liue is a torment, and then we haue a prescription, to dye when death is our Physition.

Iag.

I ha look'd vpon the world for foure times seuen yeares, and since I could distinguish betweene a be [...]efit, and an iniury, I ne­uer found a man that knew how to loue himselfe: ere I would say I would drowne my selfe, for the loue of a Ginny Hen, I would cha [...]ge my humanity with a Baboone.

Rod.

What should I do? I confesse it is my shame to be so fo [...]d, but it is not in my vertue to amend it.

Iag.

Vertue? a fig, tis in our selues, that wee are thus, or thus, our bodies are gardens, to the which our wills are Gardiners, so that if we will plant Net [...]les, or sow Lettice, set Isop, and weed vp Time; supply it with one gender of hearbes, or distract it with many; ei­ther to haue it sterrill with Idleness [...], 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 poise another [...] sensu [...]lity; the blood and basenesse of our natures, would conduct vs to most preposterous conclusions. But wee haue reason to coole our raging mo [...]ions, our carnall stings, our vnbitted lusts; whereof I take this, that you call loue to be a sect, 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 Pup­pies: I professe me thy friend, and I confesse me knit to thy de [...]er­ [...]ing, with cables of perdurable toughnesse; I could neuer better st [...]ede thee then now. Put money in thy purse; follow these warres, [Page 19] defeate thy fauour 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 the purse,—nor he to her; it was a violent commencement, and thou shalt see an answerable seque­stration: put but money in thy purse.—These Moores are change­able in their wills:—fill thy purse with money. The food that to him now, is as lushious as Locusts, 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 erring Barbarian, and a super subt [...]e Vexetian, 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: seeke thou rather to be hang'd in compassing thy ioy, then to bee drowned, and goe without her.

Rod.
W [...]lt thou be fast to my hopes?
Iag.

Thou ar [...]t sure of me—goe, make money—I haue told thee often, and I tell thee againe, and againe, I hate the Moore, my cause is harted, thine has no lesse reason, let vs be communicatiue in our reuenge against him: If thou canst cuckold him, thou doest thy selfe a pleasure, and me a sport. There are many eue [...]ts in the womb of Time, which will be deliuered. Tra [...]erce, go, prouide thy money, we will haue more of this to morrow, Adiue.

Rod.
Where shall we meete i'th morning.
Iag.
At my lodging.
Rod.
I'le be with thee betimes.
Iag.
Go to, farewell:—doe you heare Rod [...]rigo?
Rod.
what say you?
Iag.
No more of drowning, doe you heare?
Rod.
I am chang'd.
Exit Roderigo.
Iag.
Goe to, farewell, put money enough in your pur [...]e:
Thus doe I euer 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,
[Page 20] And it is thought abroad, that twixt my sheetes
Ha's done my office; I know not, if't be true—
Yet I, for meere suspition in that kind,
Will doe, as if for surety: he holds me well,
The better shall my purpose worke on him.
Cassio's a proper man, let me see now,
To get this place, and to make vp my will,
A double knauery—how, how,—let me see,
After some time, to abuse Othelloe's eare,
That he is too familiar with his wife:
He has a person and a smooth dispose,
To be suspected, fram'd to make women false:
The Moore a free and open nature too,
That thinkes men honest, that but seemes to be so:
And will as tenderly be led bit'h nose—as Asses are▪
I ha't, it is ingender'd: Hell and night
Must bring this monstrous birth to the worlds light.
Exit.

Actus 2.
Scoena 1.

Enter Montanio, Gouernor of Cypres, with two other Gentlemen.
Montanio.
VVHat from the Cape can you discerne at Sea?
1 Gent.
Nothing at all, it is a high wrought flood,
I cannot twixt the hauen and the mayne
Descry a sa [...]le.
Mon.
Me thinkes the wind does speake aloud at land,
A fuller blast ne're shooke our Battlements:
If it ha ruffiand so vpon the sea.
What ribbes of Oake, when the huge mountaine [...],
[Page 21] 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 seemes to pelt the cloudes,
The winde shak'd surge, with high and monstrous [...],
Seemes to cast water, on the burning Beare,
And quench the guards of th'euer fired pole,
I neuer did, like molestation view,
On the incha [...]ed flood.
Mon.
If that the Turkish Fleete
Be not inshelter'd, and embayed, they are drown'd,
It is impossible they beare it out.
Enter a third Gentleman.
3 Gent.
Newes Lords, your warres are done:
The desperate Tempest hath so bang'd the Turke,
That their designe [...]ent halts: Another shippe of Venice hath seene
A greeuous wracke and sufferance
On most part of the Fleete.
Mon.
How, is this true?
3 Gent.
The shippe is heere put in:
A Veronessa, Michael Cassio,
Leiutenant to the warlike Moore Othello,
Is come ashore: the Moore himselfe at Sea,
And is in full Commission here for Cypres,
Mon.
I am glad on't, tis a worthy Gouernour.
3 Gent.
But this same Cassio, tho he speake of comfort,
Touching the Turkish losse, yet he lookes sadly,
And prayes the Moore be safe, for they were parted,
With foule and violent Tempest.
Mon.
Pray Heauen 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 vessell that's come in.
[Page 22] As to throw out our eyes for braue Othello.
3 Gent.
Come, lets doe so,
For euery minute is expectancy
Of more arriuance,
Enter Cassio.
Cas.
Thankes to the valiant of this worthy Isle,
That so approue the Moore, and let the heauens
Giue him defence against their Elements,
For I haue lost him on a dangerous sea.
Mon.
Is he well shipt?
Cas.
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 saile, a saile, a saile.
Cas.
What noyse?
Mess.
The Towne is empty, on the brow o'th sea,
otand ranckes of people, and they cry a sayle.
Cas.
My hopes doe shape him for the guernement.
2 Gen.
They doe discharge the shot of courtesie,
Our friend at least.
A shot.
Cas.
I pray you sir 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?
Cas.
Most fortunately, he hath atchieu'd a maide,
That parragons description, and wild fame:
One that excells the blasoning pens,
And in the essentiall vesture of creation,
Does beare all excellency:—now, who has put in?
Enter 2. Gentleman.
2 Gent.
Tis one Iago, ancient to the Generall,
He has had most fauourable and happy speede,
Tempests themselues, by seas, and hou [...]ing windes,
The guttered rocks, and congregated sands,
Traitors enscerped; to clog the guiltlesse Keele,
As hauing sence of beauty, do omit
Their common natures, letting goe safely by
[Page 23] The diuine Desdemona.
Mon.
What is she?
Cas.
She that I spoke of, our great Captains Captaine,
Lest in the conduct of the bold Iago.
Whose footing here anticipates our thoughts
A sennights speede—great Ioue Othello guard,
And swell his saile with thine owne powerfull breath,
That he may blesse this Bay with his tall shippe,
And swiftly come to Desdemona's armes.
Enter Desdemona, Iago, Emillia, and Roderigo.
Giue renewd fire,
To our extincted spirits.
And bring all Cypresse comfort,—O behold
The riches of the ship is come ashore.
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,
Enwheele thee round.
Desd.
I thanke you valiant Cassio:
What tidings can you tell me of my Lord?
Cas.
He is not yet arriued, nor know I ought,
But that hee's well, and will be shortly here.
Desd.
O but I feare:—how lost you company?
[within.]
A saile, a saile.
Cas.
The great contention of the sea and skies
Parted our fellowship: but harke, A saile.
2 Gent.
They giue their greeting to the Cittadell,
This likewise is a friend.
Cas.
So speakes this voyce:
Good Ancient, you are welcome, welcome Mistresse,
Let it not gall your patience, good Iago,
That I extend my manners, tis my breeding,
That giues me this bold shew of courtesie.
Iag.
For would she giue you so much of her lips,
As of her tongue, she has bestowed on me,
You'd haue enough.
Des.
[Page 24]
Alas! shee has no speech.
Iag.
I know too much.
I finde it, I; for when I ha list 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 houswifery; and houswiues in your beds.
O fie vpon thee slanderer.
Iag.
Nay, it is true, or else I am a Turke,
You rise 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 praise me?
Iag.
O gentle Lady, doe not put me to't,
For I am nothing▪ if not Criticall.
Desd.
Come on, assay—there's one gone to the Harbor?
Iag.
I Madam.
Desd.
I am not merry, but I doe beguile
The thing I am, by seeming otherwise:
Come, how wouldst thou praise me?
Iag.
I am about it, but indeed my inuention
Comes from my pate, as birdlime does from freeze,
It plucks out braine and all: but my Muse labors,
And thus she is deliuer'd:
If she be faire and wise, fairenesse and wit;
The one's for vse, the other vsing it.
Desd.
Well praisde: how if she be blacke and witty?
Iag.
If she be blacke, and thereto haue a wit,
She [...] 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,
[Page 25] For euen her folly helpt her, to a haire.
Des.
These are old paradoxes, to make fooles laugh i'the Alehouse,
What miserable praise 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 wise ones doe.
Desd.

O heauy ignorance, that praises the worst best: but what praise couldst thou bestow on a deseruing 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 s [...]euer faire, and neuer proud,
Had tongue at will, and yet was neuer lowd,
Neuer lackt gold, and yet went neuer gay,
Fled from her wish, 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 wisedome, neuer was so fraile,
To change the Codshead 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 lame and impotent conclusion:
Doe not learne of him Emillia, tho he be thy husband;
How say you Cassio, is he not a most prophane and liberall
Counsellour?
Cas.
He speakes 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 ensnare as great a Flee as Cassio. I smile vpon her, doe: I will catch you in yo [...]r owne courtesies: you say true, tis so indeed. If such trickes as these▪ strip you out of your Leiute­nantry, it had beene better you had not rist your three fingers so oft, which now againe, you are most apt to play the sir in: good, well kist, an excellent courtesie; tis so indeed: yet againe, your fingers at your lips? Would they were Clisterpipes for your sake.—The Moore, I know his Trumpet.

Tr [...]mpets within▪
[Page 26] Enter Oth [...]llo, and Attendants.
Cas.
Tis truely so.
Des.
Lets meete him, and receiue him.
Cas.
Loe, wher [...] he comes.
Oth.
O my faire Warriou [...].
Des
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 tempest, 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 feare
My soule hath her content so absolute,
That not another comfort, like to this
Succeeds in vnknowne Fate,
Des.
The Heauens forbid,
But that our loues and comforts should increase,
Euen as our dayes doe growe.
Oth.
Amen to that sweete power,
I cannot speake enough of this content,
It stops me heere, it is too much of ioy:
And this, and this, the greatest discord be,
they kisse.
That ere our hearts shall make.
Iag.
O, you are well tun'd now,
But I'le set downe the pegs, that make this musique,
As honest as I am.
Oth.
Come, let vs to the Castle:
Newes friends, our warres are done, the Turks are drownd:
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 Coffers;
Bring thou the Master to the Cittadell;
[Page 27]He is a good one, and his worthinesse,
Does challenge much respect: come D [...]sdemona,
Once more well met at Cypres.
Exit.
Iag.

Doe thou meete me presently at the Habour: come hither, If thou beest valiant, as they say, base men being in loue, haue then a Nobility in their natures, more then is natiue to them—list me, the Leiutenant 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 possible.

Iag.

Lay thy finger thus, and let thy soule be instructed: marke me, with what violence she first lou'd the Moore, but for bragging, and telling her fantasticall 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 [...]lood is made dull with the act of sport, there should be againe to inflame it, and giue saciety a fresh appetite. Loue lines in fauour, sympathy in yeares, manners and beauties; all which the Moore is defectiue in: now for want of these requir'd conueniences, her delicate tender­nesse will finde it selfe abus'd, beginne to heaue the gorge, disrellish and abhorre the Moore, very nature will instruct her to it, and com­pell her to some second choyce: now sir, this granted, as it is a most pregnant and vnforced posi [...]ion, who stands so eminently in the de­gree of this fortune, as Cassio does? a knaue v [...]ry voluble, no farder conscionable, then in putting on the meere forme of ciuill and hand-seeming, for the better compassing of his salt and hidden affecti­ons: A subtle slippery knaue, a finder out of occasions; that has an eye, can stampe and counterfeit the true aduant [...]ges neuer present themselues. Besides, the knaue is handsome, yong, and hath all those requisites in him that fol [...]y and green mindes look after; a pestil [...]nt compleate knaue, and the woman has found him already.

Rod.

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

Iag.

Blest figs end: the wine shee drinkes is made of grapes: if she had beene blest, she would neuer haue lou'd the Moore. D [...]st thou not see her paddle with the palme of his hand?

Rod.

Yes, but that was but cour [...]esie.

Iag,

Lechery, by this hand: an Index and p [...]o [...]ogue to the hi­story [Page 28] of lust 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 in­corporate conclusion. But sir, be you rul'd by mee, I haue brought you from Venice: watch you to night, for your command I'le lay't vpon you, Cassio knowes you not, I'le not be farre from you, do you finde some occasion to anger Cassio, either by speaking too loud, or tainting his discipline, or from what other cause you please; which the time shall more fauourably minister.

Rod.

Well,

Iag.

Sir he is rash, and very suddain in choler, and haply with his Trunchen may strike at you; prouoke him that he may, for euen out of that, will I cause these of Cypres to mutiny, whose quallification shall come into no true trust again't, but by the displanting of Cassio: So shall you haue a shorter iourney to your desires by the meanes I shal then haue to prefer them, & the impediment, most profitably re­mou'd, without which there were no expectation of our prosperity.

Rod.

I will doe 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 Cassio loues her, I doe well beleeue it;
That she loues him, tis apt and of great credit;
The Moore howbe't, that I indure him not,
Is of a constant, noble, louing nature;
And I dare thinke, hee'le proue to Desdemona,
A most deere husband: now I doe loue her too,
Not out of absolute lust, tho peraduenture.
I stand accountant for as great a sin,
But partly lead to diet my reuenge,
For that I doe suspect the lustfull Moore,
Hath leap'd into my seate, the thought whereof
Doth like a poisonous minerall gnaw my inwards,
And nothing can, nor shall content my soule,
Till I am euen with him, wife, for wife:
Or failing so, yet that I put the Moore,
At least, into a Iealousie so strong,
[Page 29] That Iudgement cannot cure; which thing to doe,
If this poore trash of Venice, whom I crush,
For his quicke hunting, stand the putting on,
I'le haue our Michael Cassio on the hip▪
Abuse him to the Moore, in the ranke garbe,
(For I feare Cassio, with my nightcap to)
Make the Moore thanke me, loue me, and reward me,
For making him [...]gregiously an Asse,
And practising vpon his peace and quiet,
Euen to madnesse: tis here, but yet confus'd,
K [...]aueries plaine face is neuer seene, till vs'd.
Exit.
Enter a Gentleman reading a Proclamation.

It is Othell [...]'s pleasure; our noble and valiant Generall, that vpon certaine tidings now arriued, 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 Re­uel [...] his minde leades him; for besides these beneficiall newes, it is the celebration of his Nuptialls: So much was his pleasur [...] should bee proclaimed. All Offices are open, and there is full liberty, from this present houre of fiue, till the bell hath told eleuen. Heauen blesse the Isle of Cypres, and our noble Generall Othello.

Enter Othello, Cassio, and Desdemona.
Oth.
Good Michael, looke you to the guard to night,
Lets teach our selues the honourable stoppe,
Not to out sport discretion.
Cas.
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 e [...]sue,
[Page 30] The profits yet to come twixt me and you,
Good night.
Exit Othello and Desdemona.
Enter Iago.
[...].
Welcome Iago, we must to the watch.
Iag.

Not this houre Leiutenant, tis not yet ten aclock: our Ge­nerall cast vs thus early for the loue of his Desdemena. who let vs not therefore blame, hee hath not yet made wanton the night with her; and she is sport for loue.

Cas.
She is a most exquisite Lady.
Iag.
And I'le warrant her full of game.
Cas.
Indeede she is a most fresh and delicate creature.
Iag.
What an eye she has?
Me thinkes it sounds a parly of prouocation.
Cas.
An inuiting eye, and yet me thinkes right moddest.
Iag.
And when she speakes, tis an alarme to loue.
Cas.
It is indeede perfection.
Iag.

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

Cas.

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

Iag.

O they are our friends,—but one cup: I'le drink for you.

Cas.

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

Iag.
What man, tis a night of Reuells, the Gallants desire it.
Cas.
Where are they?
Iag.
H [...]re at the dore, I pray you call them in.
Cas.
I'le do't, but it dislikes me.
Exit.
Iag.
If I can fasten but one cup vpon him,
With that which he hath drunke to night already,
Hee'll be as full of quarrell and offence,
A [...] my young mistris dog:—Now my sicke foole Rod [...]igo,
Whom loue has turn'd almost the wrong side outward,
[Page 31] To Desdemona, hath to night caroust
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 Eleme [...]ts of this warlike Isle,
Haue I to night flustred with flowing cups,
And the watch too: now mongst this flocke of drunkards,
I am to put our Cassio in some action,
That may offend the Isle;
Enter Montanio, Cassio, and others.
But here they come:
If consequence doe but approoue my dreame,
My boate sailes freely, both with winde and streame.
Cas.
Fore God they haue giuen me a rouse already.
Mon.
Good faith a little one, not past a pint,
As I am a souldier.
Iag.
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 souldier drinke.—Some wine boyes,
Cas.
Fore God an excellent song.
Iag.

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.

Cas.

Is your English man so expert in his drinking?

Iag.

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

Cas.
To the health of our Generall.
Mon.
I am for it Leiutenant, and I will doe you iustice.
Iag.
O swee [...]e England,—King Stephen was a worthy peere,
His breeches cost him but a crowne,
He held'em sixpence all too deere,
With that he cald the Taylor lowne,
He was a wight of high renowne,
And thou art but of low degree,
Tis pride that puls the Countrey downe,
Then take thine [...]wd cloke about thee.—Some wine ho.
Cas.
[Page 32]
Fore God this is a more exquisite song then the other.
Iag.
Will you hear't agen?
Cas.

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

Iag.

It is true good Leiutenant.

Cas.

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

Iag.

And so doe I Leiutenant.

Cas.

I, but by your leaue, not before me; the Leiutenant is to be saued before the Ancient. Let's ha no more of this, let's to our af­faires: God forgiue vs our sins: Gentlemen, let's looke to our busi­nesse; 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.
Cas.
Very well then: you must not thinke, that I am drunke.
Ex.
Mon.
To the plotforme maisters. Come, let's set the watch.
Iag.
You see this fellow that is gone before,
He is a Souldier fit to stand by Caesar,
And giue direction: and doe but see his vice,
Tis to his vertue, a iust equinox,
The one as long as th'other: tis pitty of him,
I feare the trust O [...]hello put him in,
On some odde time of his infirmity,
Will shake this Island.
Mon.
But is he often 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 [...] Generall we [...]e put in minde of i [...],
Perhaps he sees it not, or his good nature,
Praises the vertues that appeares in Cassio,
And looke not on his euills: is not this true?
Iag.
How now Roderig [...],
Enter Roderigo.
I [...]pray you after the Leiutenant, goe.
Exit R [...]d.
Mon.
And tis great pitty that the noble Moore
[Page 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,
Helpe, helpe, within▪
To cure him of this euill: but harke, what noyse.
Enter Cassio, driuing in Roderigo.
Cas.
Zouns, you ro [...]ue, you rascall.
Mon.
what's the matter Leiutenant?
Cas.

A k [...]aue, teach mee my duty: but I'le beate the knaue into a wicker bottle.

Rod.
Bea [...]e me?
Cas.
Doest thou prate rogue?
Mon.
Good Leiutenant; pray sir hold your hand.
Cas.
Let me goe sir, or ile knocke you ore the mazzard.
Mon.
Come, come, you are drunke.
Cas.
Drunke?
they fight.
Iag.
Away I say, goe out and cry a muteny.
A bell rung.
Nay good Leiutenant: god will Gentlemen,
Helpe h [...], Leiutenant: Sir Montanio, sir,
Helpe maisters, here's a goodly watch indeed,
Who's that that rings the bell? D [...]ablo—ho,
The [...]owne will rise, 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 speakes to you; hold, hold, for shame.
Oth.
Why how now ho, from whence arises this?
Are we turn'd Turkes, and to our selues doe that,
Which Heauen has forbid the [...]ttamites:
[Page 34] For Christian shame, put by this barbarous brawle;
He that stirres nex [...], to carue forth his owne rage,
Holds his soule light, he dies vpon his motion;
Silence that dreadfull bell, it frights the Isle
From her propriety: what's the matter masters?
Honest Iago, that lookes dead with grieuing,
Speake, who began this, on thy loue I charge thee.
Iag.
I doe not know, friends all but now, euen now,
In quarter, and in termes, like bride and groome,
Deuesting 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 beginnin [...] to this peeuish odds;
And would in action glorious, I had lost
These legges, that brought me to a pa [...]t of it.
Oth.
How came it Michael, you were thus forgot?
Cas.
I pray you pardon me, I cannot speake.
Oth.
Worthy Montanio, you were wont be ciuill,
The grauity and stilnesse of your youth,
The world hath noted, and your name is great,
In men of wisest censure: what's the matter
That you vnlace 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 speech, which something now offends me,
Of all that I doe know, nor know I ought
By me, that's sed or done amisse this night,
Vnlesse selfe-charity be sometime a vice,
And to defend our selues it be a sinne,
When violence assayles vs.
Oth.
Now by heauen
My blood begins my safer guides to rule▪
And passion hauing my best iudgement coold,
Assayes to leade the way. Zouns, if I stirre,
[Page 35] Or doe but lift this arme, the best of you
Shall sinke in my rebuke: giue me to know
How this foule rout began, who set it on,
And he that is approou'd in this offence,
Tho he had twin'd with me, both at a birth,
Shall loose me; what, in a Towne of warre,
Yet wild, the peoples hearts brim full of feare,
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.
Iag.
Touch me not so neere,
I had rather ha this tongue out from my mouth,
Then it should doe offence to Michael Cassio:
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 come [...] a fellow, crying out for helpe,
And Cassio following him with determin'd sword,
To execute vpon him: Sir this Gentleman
Steps in to Cassio, and intreates his pause;
My selfe the crying fellow did pursue,
Lest by his clamour, as it so fell out,
The Towne might fall in fright: he swift of foote,
Out ran my purpose: and I returnd the rather,
For that I heard the clinke and fall of swords:
And Cassio high in oaths, which till to night,
I ne're might see 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 b [...]st sometimes forget;
Tho Cassio did some little wrong to him,
As men in ra [...]ge strike those that wish them best,
[Page 36] Yet surely Cassio, I beleeue receiu'd
From him that fled, some strange indignity,
Which patience could not passe.
Oth.
I know Iago,
Thy honesty and loue doth mince this matter,
Making it light to Cassio: Cassio, I loue thee,
But neuer more be Officer of mi [...]e.
Enter Desdemona, with others.
Looke if my Gentle loue be not raisde vp:
I'le make thee an example.
Desd.
What is the matter?
Oth.
All's well now sweeting:
Come away to bed: sir, for your hurts,
My selfe will be your surgeon; leade him off;
Iago, looke with care about the Towne,
And silence those, whom this vile brawle distracted.
Come Desdemona: tis the Souldiers life,
To haue their balmy [...]umbers wak'd with strife,
Iag,
What are you hurt Leiutenant?
Exit Moore, Desdemona, and attendants.
Cas.
I, past all surgery.
Iag.
Mary God forbid.
Cas.
Reputation, reputation, I ha lost my reputation:
I ha lost the immortall part sir of my selfe,
And what remaines is beastiall, my reputation,
Iago, my reputation.
Iag.

As I am an honest man, I thought you had receiu'd some bodily wound, there is more offence in that, then in Reputation: re­putation is an idle and most false imposition, oft got without merit, and lost without deseruing, You haue lost no reputation at all, vn­lesse you repute your selfe such a loser; what man, there are wayes to recouer the Generall agen: you are but now cast in his moode, a punishment more in pollicy, then in malice, euen so, as one would beate his offencelesse dog, to affright an imperious Lyon: sue to him againe, and [...]hees yours.

Cas.

I will rather sue to be despis'd, then to deceiue so good a Commander, with so light, so drunken, and indiscreete an Officer: O thou inuisible spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to bee knowne [Page 37] by, let vs call thee Diuell.

Iag.
What was he, that you followed with your sword?
What had he done to you?
Cas.
I know not.
Iag.
I [...]t possible?
Cas.

I remember a masse of things, but nothing distinctly; 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 applause, transforme our selues into beasts.

Iag.

Why, but you are now well enough: how came you thus recouered?

Cas.

It hath pleasde the Diuell drunkennesse, to giue place to the Diuell wrath; one vnpe [...]fectnesse, shewes me another, to make me frankely despise my selfe.

Iag.

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

Cas.

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 sen [...]ible man, by and by a foole, and pre­sently a beast. Euery vnordinate cup is vnblest, and the ingredience is a diuell.

Iag.

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

Cas.

I haue well approou'd it sir,—I drunke?

Iag.

You, or any man liuing may bee drunke at some time: I'le tell you what you sha [...]l [...],—our Generals wi [...]e is now the Gene­rall; I may say so in this respect, for that he has deuoted and giuen vp himselfe to the contemplation, marke and deuotement of her parts and graces. Confesse your selfe freely to her, importune her, shee'll helpe to put you in you [...] 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 fortune; against any lay, worth naming, this cracke of your [...] [Page 38] shall grow stronger then twas before.

Cas.
You aduise me well.
Iag.
I protest in the sincerity of loue and honest kindnesse.
Cas.

I thinke it freely, and betimes in the morning, will I be­seech 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 must to the watch.
Cas.
Good night honest Iago.
Exit.
Iag.
And what's he then, that saye [...] 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 most easie
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 s [...]ales and symbols of redeemed sin,
His soule is so infetter'd to her loue,
That she may make, vnmake, doe what she list,
Euen as her appetite shall play the god
With his weake function: how am I then a villaine?
To counsell Cassio to this parrallell course.
Directly to his good: diuinity of hell,
When diuells will their blackest sins put on,
They doe suggest at first with heauenly shewes,
As I doe now: for while this honest foole
Plyes Desdemona to repaire his fortunes,
And she for him, pleades strongly to the Moore:
I'le poure this pestilence into his [...]are,
That she repeales him for her bodyes lust;
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 enmesh em all:
Enter Roderigo.
How now Roderigo?
Rod.
[Page 39]

I do follow here in the chase, 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 issue will be, I shall haue so much experience for my paines, as th [...] 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 wichcraft,
And wit depends on dilatory time.
Do'st not goe well? Cassio has beaten thee.
And thou, by that small hurt, hast casheird Cassio,
Tho other things grow faire against the sun,
But fruites that blosome first, will first [...] ripe
Content thy selfe awhile; bi'the masse tis morning;
Pleasure, and action, make the houres seeme short:
Retire thee, goe where thou art bill ted,
Away I say, thou shalt know more hereafter:
Nay get thee gon. Some things are to be done,
My wife must moue for Cassi [...] to her mistris,
I'le set her on.
My selfe awhile, to draw the Moore apart,
And bring him iumpe, when he may Cassio finde,
Soliciting his wife: I, that's the way▪
Dull not deuise by coldnesse and delay.
Exeunt.
Enter Cassio, with Musitians and th [...] Cl [...]wn [...].
Cas.
MAsters, play here, I will content your paines.
Something that's briefe, and bid good mo [...]ow Generall.
Clo.
Why masters, ha your instruments bin at Naples, that they speake i'the nose thus?
Boy.
How sir, how?
Clo.
Are these I pray, c [...]ld wind Instruments?
Boy.
I marry are they sir.
Clo.
O, thereby hangs a tayle.
Boy.
Whereby hangs a tayle sir?
Clo.

Marry sir, by many a winde [...] I know▪ But [Page 40] masters heere's money for you, and the Generall so likes your mu­sique, that hee desires you of all loues, to make no more noyse with it.

Boy,

Well si [...] we will not.

Clo.

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

Boy.

We ha none such sir.

Clo.

Then put your pipes in your bag, for I'le away; goe, va­nish away.

Cas.

Doest thou heare my honest friend?

Clo.

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

Cas.

Preethee keepe vp thy quillets, there's a poore peece of gold for thee: if the Gentlewoman that attends the [...]enerals wi [...]e be stirring, tell her there's one Cassio, entreates her alittle fauour of speech—wilt thou doe this?

Clo.

She is stirring sir, if she will stirre hither, I shall seeme to no­tifie vnto her.

Enter Iago.
Cas.
Doe g [...]od my friend: In happy time Iago.
Iag.
You ha not bin a bed then.
Cas.
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 Desdemona,
Procure me some accesse.
Iag.
I'le send her to you presently,
And Ile deuise a [...]eane to draw the Moore
Out of the way, that your conuerse and businesse,
May be more free.
Exit.
Cas.
I humbly thanke you for it: I neuer knew
A Florentine more kinde and honest:
Enter Emilla.
Em.
Good morrow good Leiutenant, I am sor [...]y
For your displeasure, but all will soone be well,
The Generall and his wife are talking of it,
And she speakes for you stoutly: the Moore replies,
That he you hurt is of great fame in Cypres,
And great affinity, and that in whole some wisedome,
[Page 41]He might not but refuse you: but he protests he loues you,
And needes no other suitor but his liki [...]gs,
To take the safest occasion by the front,
To bring you in againe.
Cas.
Yet I beseech you,
If you thinke fit, or that it may be done,
Giue me aduantage of some briefe discourse
With Desdemona alone.
Em.
Pray you come in,
I will bestow you where you shall haue time,
To speake your bosome freely.
Exeunt.
Enter Othello, Iago, and other [...]ntl [...]men.
Oth.
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,
R [...]paire there to me.
Iag.
Well my good Lord, I'le do't.
Oth.
This fortification Gentlemen, shall we see't?
Ge [...]t.
We waite vpon your Lordship.
Exeunt.
Enter Desdemona, Cassio and Emillia.
Des.
Be thou assur'd good Cassio, I will doe
All my abil [...]ties in thy behalfe.
Em.
Good Madam do, I know it grieues my husband,
As if the case were his.
Desd.
O that's an honest fellow:-do not doubt Cassio,
But I will haue my Lord and you againe,
As friendly as you were.
Cas.
Boun [...]ious Madame,
What euer shall become of Michael Cassio,
Hee's neuer any thing but your true seruant.
Desd.
O sir, I thanke you, you doe loue my Lord:
You haue knowne him long, and be you well assur'd,
He shall in strangest, stand no farther off,
Then in a politique distance.
Cas.
[Page 42]
I but Lady,
The pollicy may either last so long,
Or feede vpon such nice, and watrish diet,
Or breed it selfe, so out of circumstance,
That I being absent, and my place supplied,
My Generall will forget my loue and seruice▪
Desd.
Doe not doubt that, before Emillia here,
I giue thee warraut of thy place; assure thee
If I doe vow a friendship, I'le performe it
To the last 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 Cassio's suite; therefore be merry Cassio,
For thy soiliciter shall rather die,
Theu giue thee cause: away.
Enter Othello, Iago, and Gentlemen.
Em.
Madam, here comes my Lord.
Cas.
Madam, I'le take my leaue.
Desd.
Why stay and heare me speake.
Cas.
Madam not now, I am very ill at ease,
Vnfit for mine owne purpose.
Desd.
Well, doe your discretion.
Exit Cassio.
Iag.
Ha, I like not that.
Oth.
Wh [...]t doest thou say?
Iag.
Nothing my Lord, or if, I know not what.
Oth.
Was not that Cassio parted from my wife?
Iag.
Cassio my Lord?—no sure, I cannot thinke it,
Tha [...] he would sneake away so guilty-like,
Seeing you comming.
Oth.
I doe beleeue twas he.
Desd.
How now my Lord,
I haue beene talking with a suiter here,
A man that languishes in your displeasure.
Oth.
Who i'st you meane?
Desd.
Why your Leiutenant Cassio, good my Lord,
[Page 43]If I haue any grace or power to moue you,
His present reconsiliation take:
For if he be not one that truely loues you,
That erres in ignorance, and not in cunning,
I haue no iudgement in an honest face,
I preethee call him backe.
Oth.
Went he hence now?
Desd.
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 Desdemona some other time.
Desd.
But shal't be shortly?
Oth.
The sooner sweete for you.
Desd.
Shal't be to night at supper?
Oth.
No, not to night.
Desd.
To morrow dinner then?
Oth.
I shall not dine at home,
I meete the Captaines, at the Cittadell.
Desd.
Why then to morrow night, or Tuesday morne,
On Tuesday morne, or night, or Wensday morne,
I preethee name the time, but let it not
Exceed three dayes: I faith hee's penitent,
And yet his trespasse, in our common reason,
(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 Cas [...]io?
That came a wooing with you, and so many a time
When I haue spoke of you dispraisingly,
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.
Desd.
Why this is not a boone,
Tis as I should intreate you weare your gloues:
[Page 44]Or feede on nourishing 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 poise and difficulty,
And fearefull to be granted.
Oth.
I will deny thee nothing,
Whereon I doe beseech 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'le come to thee straight.
Desd.
Emillia, come, be it as your fancies 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 doest thou say Iago?
Iag.
Did Michael Cassio when you wooed my Lady,
Know of your loue?
Oth.
He did from first to last:—Why doest thou a [...]ke?
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 acquainted with her.
Oth.
O yes, and went betweene vs very often.
Iag.
Indeed?
Oth.
Indeed? Indeed disern' [...]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 doest 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 thoe say but now, thou lik' [...]t [...]not that,
[Page 45]When Cassio 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 doest loue me,
Shew me thy thought.
Iag.
My Lord, you know I loue you.
Oth.
I thinke thou doest,
And for I know, thou art full of loue and honesty,
And weighest thy words, before thou giue em breath,
Therefore these stops of t [...]ine affright me the more:
For such things in a false disloyall 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 Cassio,
I dare presume, I thinke that he is hone [...],
Oth.
I thinke so to.
Iag.
Men [...]ould be that they seeme,
Or those that be not, would they might seeme none.
Oth.
Certaine, men should be what they seeme.
Iag.
Why then I thinke Cassio's an honest man.
Oth.
Nay yet there's more in this,
I pre [...]thee speake to me to thy thinkings:
As thou doest ruminate, and giue the worst of thought,
The worst of word.
Iag.
Good my Lord pardon me;
Though I am bound to [...]uery act of duty,
I am not bound to that all slaues are free to,
Vtter my thoughts? Why, say they are vil [...] and false:
As where's that pallace, whereinto foule things
Sometimes intrude not? who has a breast so pure,
But some vncleanely apprehensions,
Keepe l [...]tes and law-dayes, and in Session fit
With meditations lawfull?
Oth.
Thou doest conspire against thy friend Iago,
[Page 46]If thou but thinkest him wrongd, and makest his eare
A stranger to thy thoughts.
Iag.
I doe be [...]eech you,
Though I perchance am vicious in my ghesse,
As I confesse it is my natures plague,
To spy into abuses, and oft my i [...]alousie
Shapes faults that are not, I intreate you then;
From one that so imperfectly coniects,
You'd take no notice, nor build your selfe a troubl [...],
Out of my scattering, and vnsure obseruance;
It were not for your quiet, nor your good,
Nor for my manhood▪ honesty, or wisedome,
To [...]et you know my thoughts,
Oth.
Zouns.
Iag.
Good name in man and woman's d [...]r [...] my Lord;
Is the immediate Iewell of our soules:
Who steales my purse, steals trash tis something, nothing,
Twas mine, tis his, and has bin slane to thousands:
But he that filches from me my good name,
Robs me of that, which not i [...]riches him,
And makes me poore indeed.
Oth.
By heauen I'le know thy thought.
Iag.
You cannot, if my hea [...]t were in your hand,
Nor shall not, whilst tis in my custody:
O be ware i [...]alousi [...].
It is the greene eyd monster, which doth mocke
That meate it feedes on. That Cuckold l [...]ues in blisse,
Who certaine of his fate, loues not his wronger:
But oh, what d [...]mned minutes tel [...]s he ore,
Who dot [...], yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loues.
Oth.
O [...]isery.
Iag.
Poor [...] and content is rich, and rich enough,
But [...]ches, finel [...]sse, is as poore as winter,
To him that eu [...]r feares he shall be poore:
Good God, the soules of all my tribe defend
From iealousie,
Oth.
Why, why is this?
[Page 47]Thinkst thou I'de make a life of i [...]alousie?
To follow still the changes of the Moone
With fresh suspitions? No, to be once in doubt,
Is once to be resolud: exchange me for a Goate,
When I shall turne the businesse of my soule
To such exufflicate, and blowne surmises,
Matching thy inference: tis not to make me iealous,
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 f [...]are, or doubt of her reuolt,
For she had ei [...]s, and chose me: no Iago,
I'le see b [...]fore I doubt, when I doubt, proue,
And on the proofe, there is no more but this:
Away at once with loue or iealousie.
Iag.
I am glad of it, for now I shall haue reason,
To shew 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, obs [...]rue her well with Cassio;
We [...]e your eie thus, not iealous, nor secure,
I would not haue your free and noble nature,
Out of selfe-bounty be abus'd, looke to't:
I know our Countrey disp [...]sition well▪
In Venice they doe let God [...]ee the prankes
They dare shew their husbands: their best conscience,
Is not to leaue vndone, but keepe vnknowne.
Oth.
Doest thou say [...]o.
Iag.
She did deceiue her father marrying you;
And when she seem'd to sh [...]ke and feare your lookes,
She lou'd them most.
Oth.
A [...]d so she did.
Iag.
Why go too then,
She that so young, could giue our such a s [...]eming,
To seale her fathers eyes [...]p, close as Oake,
He thought twas witch [...]raft: but I am much too blame,
I humbly doe beseech you of your pardon,
[Page 48]For too much louing you.
Oth.
I am bound to thee for euer.
Iag.
I see this hath a little das [...]t your spirits.
Oth.
Not a iot, not a [...]ot.
Iag.
I faith 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 straine my speech,
To groser issues, 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: Cassio's my trusty friend:
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 doe not in position.
Destinctly speake of her, tho I may feare
Her will recoyling to her better iudgement,
May fall to match you with her countrey formes,
And happily repent [...]
Oth.
Farewell, if more
Thou doest perceiue, let me know more, set on
Thy wife [...]o obserue: leaue me Iago.
Iag.
My Lord I take my leaue.
Oth.
Why did I marry? This honest creature doubtlesse
Sees and know [...]s more, much more then he vnfoulds.
My Lord, I would I might intreate your ho [...]our,
Iag.
[Page 49]
To scan this thing no further, leaue it to time,
Tho it be fit, that Cassio haue his place,
For sure he fills it vp with great ability:
Yet if you please to hold him off awhile,
Yo [...] shall by that perceiue him and his meanes;
Note if your Lady [...]traine her entertainement,
With any strong or vehement importunity,
Much will be [...]ene in that, in the meane time,
Let me be thought too busie in my feares,
As worthy cause I haue, to feare I am;
And hold her free, I doe beseech your honour.
Oth.
Feare not my gouernement.
Iag.
I once more take my leaue.
Exit
Oth.
This fellowe's of exceeding honesty,
And knowes all qualities, with a learned spirit
Of humaine dealing: if I doe prooue her haggard,
Tho that her lesses 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 those soft parts of conuersation,
That Chamb [...]rers haue, or for I am de [...]lind
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 vses: yet tis the plague of great ones,
Prerogatiu'd are they lesse then the base,
Tis desteny, vn [...]unnable, like death:
Euen then this forked plague is fated to vs,
When we doe quicken: Desdemona comes,
If she be false, O then heauen mocks it sel [...]e,
I'le not bele [...]ue it.
Enter Desdemona and Emillia.
Desd.
How now my deare Othell [...]?
[Page 50]Your dinner, and the generous Ilander
By you inuit [...]ed, doe attend your presence,
Oth.
I am to blame.
Des.
Why is your speech so faint? are you not well?
Oth.
I haue a paine vpon my forehead, here.
Des.
Faith that's with watching, t'will away againe;
Let me but bind your head, within this houre
It will be well ag [...]ine.
Oth.
Your napkin is too little:
Let it alone, come I'le goe in with you.
Des.
I am very sorry that you are not well.
Em.
I am glad I haue found this napkin,
Ex. Oth. and Desd.
This was her fi [...]t remembrance from the Moore,
My way ward husband, hath a hundred times
Wooed me to [...]teale it, but she so loues the token,
For he coniu [...]'d her, she should euer keepe it,
Th [...]t she re [...]e [...]ues it euer more about her,
To kisse, and talke to; I'le ha the worke taine out,
And giu't Iago: what hee'l [...] doe with it,
Enter Iago.
Heauen knowes, not I,
I nothing know, but for his fantasie.
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 at will you gine me now,
For that sa [...]e han [...]kercher?
Iag.
What handkercher?
Em.
What handkercher?
Why that the Moore first gaue to Desdemona,
That which so often you did bid me steale.
Iag.
Ha'st stole it from her?
Em.
No faith, she let [...]t 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.
[Page 51]
What will you doe with it, that you haue bin
So earnest to haue me filch it?
Iag.
Why, what's that to you?
Em.
If it be not for some purpose of import,
Giue 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 [...] Cassio's Lodging lose this napkin,
Exit Em.
And let him finde it: tri [...]les light as ayr [...],
Are to the iealous, 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 distast.
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, [...]or Mandragora,
Nor all the drousie sirrops of the world,
Shall [...]uer 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 set 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 lust:
I saw't 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 on her lips,
He that is rob'd, not wanting what is stolne,
Let him not know'r, and hee's not rob'd at all.
Iag.
I am sorry to heare this.
Oth.
I had bin happy if the generall Campe,
Pyoners, and all, had tasted her sw [...]ete body,
So I had nothing knowne: O now for euer
Farewell the [...]anquile mind, farewell content:
Farewell the plumed troope, and the big warres.
[Page 52]That makes ambition vertue: O farewell,
Farewell the neighing Steed, and the shri [...]l Trumpe,
The spirit-stirring Drumme, the eare-peircing Fife;
The royall Banner, and all quality,
Pride, pompe, and circumstance of glorious warre.
And O ye mortall Engines, whose wide throates,
The immortall Ioues great clamor counterfeit;
Farewell, Othello's Occupation's gone.
Iag.
Ist 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.
Ist 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 slander her, and torture me,
Neuer pray more, abandon all remorce.
On horrors head, horrors accumilate:
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, haue you a soule or sence?
God buy you, take mine office,—O wretched foole,
That liuest 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 stay, thou shouldst be honest.
Iag.
I should be wise, for honestie's a foole,
And looses that it workes for:
I see sir, you are eaten vp with passion,
I doe repent me that I put it to you,
[Page 53]You wou'd be satisfied.
Oth.
Would, nay, I will.
Iag.
And many, but how, how satisfied my Lord?
Would you, the superuisor grossely 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 euer mortall eyes did see them boulster
More then their owne; what then, how then?
What shall I say? where's satisfaction?
It is impossible you should see this.
Were they as prime as Goates, as hot as Monkies,
As salt as Wolues, in pride; and fooles as gro [...]e,
As ignorance made drunke: But yet I say,
If imputation and [...]trong circumstan [...]s,
Which leade directly to the doore of truth,
Will giue you satis [...]action, you may ha't.
Oth.
[...]iue me a liuing reason, that shee's disloyall.
Iag.
I doe not like the office,
But [...]th I am enter'd into this cause so farre,
Prickt to't by foolish honesty and loue,
I will goe on: I lay with Cassio 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 Cassio:
In sleepe I heard him say. Sweete Desdemona,
Let vs be merry, let vs hide our loues;
And then sir, would he gripe and wring my hand,
Cry out, sweete creature, and then kisse me hard,
As if he pluckt vp kisses by the rootes,
That grew vpon my lips, then layed his leg
Ouer my thigh, and sigh'd, and kissed, and then
Cried, cursed fate, that gaue thee to the Moore.
Oth.
O Monstro [...]s, monstrous.
Iag.
Nay, this was but his dreame.
Oth.
[Page 54]
But this deuoted 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 peeces.
Iag.
Nay, but be wise, yet we see nothing don [...],
She may be honest yet, tell me but this,
Haue you not sometimes seene a handkercher,
Spotted with strawberries in your wiues hand.
Oth.
I gaue her such a one, twas my first gift.
Iag.
I know not that, but such a handkercher,
I am [...]ure it was your wiues, did I to day
See Cassio wipe his beard with.
Oth.
I [...]'t be that.
Iag.
If it be that, or any, it was hers,
It speakes against her, with the other proofes.
Oth.
O that the slaue had forty thousand liues,
One is too poore, too weake for my r [...]uenge:
Now doe I see tis time, looke here Iago,
All my fond loue, thus doe I blow to heauen,—tis gone.
Arise blacke vengeance, from thy hollow Cell,
Yeeld vp O loue thy crowne, and harted Throne,
To tirranous hate, swell bosome with thy fraught,
For tis of Aspecks tongues.
Iag.
Pray be content.
he k [...]eeles.
Oth.
O blood, Iago, blood.
Iag.
Patience I say, your mind perhaps may change.
Oth.
Neuer:
In the due reuerence of a [...]acred vow,
I here ingage my words.
Iag.
D [...]e notrise yet:
Witnesse you euer-burning lights aboue,
You Elements that clip vs round abou [...],
Iago k [...]eeles.
Witnesse that here, Iago doth giue vp
The excellency of his wit, hand, heart,
To wrong'd Othello's se [...]uice: let him command,
And to obey, shall be re [...]orce,
[Page 55]VVhat bloody worke so euer.
Oth.
I greete thy loue:
Not with vaine thankes, but with accep [...]nce bounteous,
And will vpon the instant put thee [...]o' [...],
VVithin these three dayes, let me heare thee say,
That Cassi [...]'s not aliue,
Iag.
My friend is dead:
Tis [...]one as you request, but let her liue.
Oth.
Dam her lewd minks O d [...]her,
Come, goe with me apart, I will withdraw
To furnish me with some swift meanes of death,
For the faire diuell: now art thou my Leiutenant.
Iag.
I am your owne for euer.
Exeunt.
Enter Desdemonia Emilla and the Clowne.
Des.
Do you know [...], where the Leiutenant Cassi [...] lies?
Cl [...].
I dare not say he lies any where.
Des.
VVhy man?
He is a Souldier, and for one to say a Souldier lies, is s [...]abbing.
Des.
Go to, where Iodges he?
Cl [...].

I know not where he lodges, and for me to deuise a lodging, and say he lies there, were to lie in my th [...]oate.

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, [...]ell him I haue moued my
Lord in his beha [...]fe, and hope all will be well.
Clo.
To doe this is within the compa [...]e of a man, and therefore
I'le attempt the doing of it.
Exit.
Desd.
VVhere should I loose that [...]andkercher Emillia?
Em.
I know not Madam.
Des.
Beleeue me, I had rather loose my purse
Full of C [...]usa does: and but my noble Moore
Is true of minde, and made of no such basenesse,
As iealous creatures are, it were enough,
To put him to ill thinki [...]g.
Em.
Is he not iealous.
Desd.
[Page 56]
Who he? I thinke the Sun where he was borne,
Drew all such humors from him.
Enter Othello.
Em.
Looke where he comes.
Des.
I will not leaue him now,
L [...]t C [...]ssio be cald to him: how is it with you my Lord?
Oth.
Well my good Lady: O hardnesse to dissemble:
How doe you Desdomona?
Des.
Well, my good Lord.
Oth.
Giue me your hand, this hand is moist my Lady.
Des.
It yet has felt no age, nor knowne no sorrow.
Oth.
This argues fruitfulnesse and liberall heart,
Not hot and moi [...]t, this hand of yours requires
A sequester from liberty: fasting and praying,
Much castigation, exercise deuout;
For [...]eere's a young and swetting diuell here,
That commonly rebels: tis a good hand,
A franke one.
Des.
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 herral dry is hands, not hearts.
Des.
I cannot speake of this, come, come, your promise.
Oth.
What promise chucke?
Des.
I haue sent to bid Cassio come speake with you.
Oth.
I haue a salt and sullen rhume offends me,
Lend me thy handkercher,
Des.
Here my Lord.
Oth.
That which I gaue you.
Des.
I haue it not about me.
Oth.
Not.
Des.
No faith my Lord.
Oth.
Thats 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 sub due my father
Intirely to her loue: But if she lost it,
[Page 57]Intirely to her loue: But if she lost it,
Or made a gift of it: my fathers eye
Should hold her lothely, and his spirits should hu [...]t
After new fancies: she dying, gaue it me,
And bid me when my fate would haue me wi [...]e,
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.
Desd.
I' [...] possible?
Oth.
Tis true, there's magicke in the web of it,
A Sybell that had numbred in the world,
The Sun to make two hundred compasses,
In her prophetique fury, sowed the worke;
The wormes were [...]allowed that did breed the [...]ilke,
And it was died in Mummy, with the skilfull
Con [...]erues of maidens hearts.
Des.
I faith i' [...]t true?
Oth.
Most veritable, therefore looke to't well.
Des.
Then would to God, that I had neuer s [...]ene it.
Oth.
Ha, wherefore?
Des.
Why doe you speake so startingly and rashly.
Oth.
I'st lost? i'st gone? speake, is it out o'the way?
Des.
Heauen blesse vs.
Oth.
Say you?
Des.
It is not lost, but what and if it were?
Oth.
Ha.
Des.
I say it is not lo [...]t.
Oth.
Fetch't, let m [...] see it,
Des.
Why so I can sir, but I will not now,
This is a tricke, to put me from my suite,
I pray let Cas [...]o, be receiu'd againe.
Oth.
Fetch me that handkercher, my [...].
Des.
Come, come, you'll neuer me [...]te a more [...] ma [...].
Oth.
The handkercher.
Des.
I pray talke me of Cassio.
Oth.
The handkercher.
Des.
[Page 58]
A man that all his time,
Hath founded his good fortunes on your loue,
Shar'd dangers with you.
Oth.
The handkercher.
Des.
I faith you are too blame.
Oth.
Zouns.
Exit.
Em.
Is not this man iealous?
Des.
I ne're saw this before:
Sure there's some wonder in this handkercher,
I am most vnhappy in the losse.
Enter Iago and Cassio.
Em.
Tis not a yeere or two shewes vs a man,
[...]hey are all but stomacks, and we all but foode;
They eate vs hungerly, and when they are full,
They belch vs; looke you, Cassio and my husband.
Iag.
There is no other way, tis she must doe it,
And loe the happinesse, goe, and importune her.
Des.
How now good Cassio, what's the news with you?
Cas.
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 past, nor present sorrowes,
Nor purpos'd m [...]rrit, in futurity
Can ransome me, into his loue againe
But to know so, must be my benefit,
So shall I cloth me in a forc'd content,
And shoote my selfe vp in some other course,
To fortunes almes.
Des.
Alas thrice gentle Cassio,
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 al [...]red.
So helpe me, euery spirit sanct [...]fied,
As I haue spoken for you, all my best,
[Page 59]And stood within the bl [...]nke 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.
Iag.
Is my Lord angry?
Em
He went hence but now,
And c [...]rtainely in strange vnquietnesse.
Iag.
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 arme,
Puft 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.
Desd.
I preethee do so: something sure of State,
Either from Veni [...]e, or some vnhatcht practice,
Made demon [...]trable here in Cypres to him,
Hath pudled his cleere spirit, and in such cases
Mens natures wrangle with inferior things,
Tho great ones are the obiect,
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 go [...],
Nor of them looke for such obseruances
As fits the Bridall: beshrew me much E [...]illia,
I was (vnhandsome, warrior as I am)
Arraigning his vnkindenesse with my soule;
But now I finde, I had subbornd the witnesse,
And hee's indited falsly.
Em.
Pray heauen it be State matters, as you thinke,
And no conc [...]ption, nor no [...]alous toy
Concerning you.
Desd.
Alas the day, I neuer gaue him cause.
Em.
Butiealous soules will not be answered so,
They are not euer iealous for the cause,
But iealous for the [...] iealous: tis a mon [...]ter,
Begot vpon it selfe, borne on it selfe.
Desd.
[Page 60]
Heauen keepe that monster from Othello's mind.
Em.
Lady, Amen.
Des.
I will go [...] seeke him, Cassio, walke here about,
If I doe finde him fit, I'le moue your suite,
Exeunt Desd. and Emillia.
And seeke to effect it to my vttermost.
Cas.
I humbly thanke your Ladiship.
Bi [...]n.
Saue you friend Cassio.
Enter Bianca.
Cas.
What make you from home?
How is it with you my most faire Bianca?
I faith sweete loue I was comming to your house.
Bian.
And I was going to your Lodging Cassio;
What, keepe a weeke away? seu [...]n daies and nights;
Eightscore eight houres, and louers absent houres,
More tedious then the diall, eight score times,
No weary reckoning.
Cas.
Pardon me Bianca,
I haue this while with laden thoughts bin prest,
But I shall in a more conu [...]ni [...]nt time,
Strike off this score of absence: sweete Bianca,
Take me this worke out.
Bian.
Oh Cassio, whence came this?
This is some token from a newer friend,
To the felt [...]bsence, now I feele a cause,
[...] come t [...] this?
Cas.
Go to woman,
Throw your vile ghesses in the diu [...]ls teeth,
From whence you haue t [...]em, you are iealous now,
That this is from som: m [...]strisse, some remembrance▪
No by my faith Bianca,
Bian.
Why who's is it?
Cas.
I know not sweete, I found it in my chamber,
I like the worke well, ere it be demanded,
As like enough it will, I'de haue it coppied,
Take it, and do't, and leaue me for this time.
Bian.
Leaue you, whe [...]efore?
Cas.
I doe attend here on the Generall,
And thinke it no addition, nor my wish,
[Page 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.
Cas.
Tis but a little way, that I can [...]ng you,
For I [...]ttend here, but I'le see you soone.
Bian.
Tis very good, I must be circumstanc'd.
Ex [...]nt.

Actus. 4.

Enter Iago and Othello.
Iag.
Will you thinke so?
Oth.
Thinke so Iago.
Iag.
What, to kisle in priuate?
Oth.
An vnauthoriz'd kisse.
Iag.
Or to be naked with her friend abed,
An houre, or more, not meaning any harme.
Oth.
Naked abed Iago, and not meane harme?
It is hypocrisie against the diuell:
They that meane vertuously, and yet doe so,
The diuell their vertue tempts, and they tempt heauen▪
Iag.
So they doe nothing, tis a veniall [...]lip;
But if I giue my wife a handkercher.
Oth.
What then?
Iag.
Why then tis hers my Lord, and being hers,
She may, I thinke, bestow't on any man.
Oth.
She is protectres of her honour to,
May she giue that?
Iag.
Her honour is an effence that's not s [...]ne,
They haue it very oft, that haue it not:
But for the handkercher.
Oth.
By heauen, I would most gladly haue forgot it:
Thou [...]idst (O it comes o're my memory,
As doth the Rauen o're the infected house,
[Page 62]Boding to all.) He had my hankercher.
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 knaues be such abroad)
Who [...]uing by their owne importunate suite,
Or by the voluntaty dotage of some mistris,
Conuinced, or supplied them, cannot chuse,
But th [...]y must blab.
Oth.
Hath he said any thing?
Iag.
He hath my Lord, but be you well assur'd,
No more then hee'l vnswerare.
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 fulsome, handkerchers, Confession, hankerchers.

He fals downe.
Iag.

Worke on my medicine, worke: thus credulous fooles are caught, and many worthy and ch [...]ste dames, euen thus all guiltlesse, meete reproach; What ho my Lord, my Lord I say, Othello,—how now Cassio.

Enter Cassio.
Cas.
What's the matter?
Iag.
My Lord is falne into an Epilepsy,
This is his second fit, he had one yesterday.
Cas.
Rub him about the Temples.
Iag.
No, forbeare,
The Lethergie, must haue his quiet course,
If not he foames at mouth, and by and by
Breakes out to sauage madnesse: looke he stirres:
Doe you withdraw your selfe a little while,
He will recouer 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.
[Page 63]
I mocke you? no by Heauen,
Would you would beare 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 confes [...]e?
Iag.
Good sir be a man,
Thinke euery bearded fellow, that's but yoak'd,
May draw with you, there's millions now aliue,
That nightly lyes in those vnproper beds,
Wh [...]ch they dare sweare peculiar: your case is better:
O tis the spite of hell, the fiends arch mocke,
To [...] a wanton in a secure Coach,
And to suppose her chaste: No, let me know,
And knowing what I am, I know what she shall be.
Oth.
O thou art wise, tis certaine.
Iag.
Stand you a while apart,
Con [...]ine your selfe but in a patient list:
Whilst you were here ere while, mad with your griefe,
A passion most vnsuting such a man,
Cassio 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 promisde: but incaue your s [...]lfe,
And marke the Ieeres, the libes, and notable scornes,
That dwell in euery 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, mary 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 amisse:
But yet keepe time in all; will you withdraw?
[Page 64]Now will I question Cassio of Bianca;
A huswife that by selling her desires,
Buys her selfe bread and cloathes: it is a Creature,
That dotes on Cassio: as tis the [...]trumpets plague
To beguile many, and be beguild by one,
Ent. Cassio.
He, when he heares of her, cannot refraine
From the [...]x [...]esse of laughter: here he com [...]s:
As he [...]all smile, Othello shall goe mad,
And his vnbookish iealousie must conster
Poore Cassio's smiles, gestures, and light behauiour,
Quite in the wrong: How doe you now Leiutenant?
Cas.
The worser, that you giue me the addition,
Whose 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.
Cas.
Alas poore Catiue.
Oth.
Looke how he laughes already.
Iag.
I neuer knew a woman loue man so.
Cas.
Alas poore rogue, I thinke ifaith she loues me.
Oth.
Now he denyes it faintly, and laughes it out.
Iag.
Doe you heare Cassio?
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?
Cas.
Ha, ha, ha.
Oth.
Doe you triumph Roman, doe you tri [...]p [...]?
Cas.
I marry her? I pre [...]hee beare some charity to my wit,
Doe not thinke it so vnwho [...]esome: ha, ha, ha.
Oth.
So, so, so, so, laugh that wins.
Iag.
Faith the cry goes, you shall marry her.
Cas.
Preethee say true.
Iag.
I am a very villaine else,
Oth.
Ha you stor'd me well.
Cas.

This is the [...] own giuing out; she is perswaded I [...] marry her, out of her owne l [...]ue and flattery, not out of my promise.

Oth.
[Page 65]

Iago beckons me, now he begins the story.

Cas.

She was hee [...]e euen now, shee haunts me in euery place, I was tother day, talking on the sea banke, with certaine Ven [...]tians, and thi [...]her comes this bauble, by this hand she fals thus about my neck.

Oth.

Crying, O deare Cassio, as it were: his i [...]ture imports it.

Cas.

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.
Cas.
Well, I must leaue her company.
Enter Bianca.
Iag.
Before me, looke where she comes,

Tis such another ficho; marry a perfum'd one, what doe you meane by this hanting of me.

Bian.

Let the diuel 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 [...]he whole worke, a likely peece 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, whereso [...]uer you had it, I'le take out no worke on't.

Cas.
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.

Cas.

Faith I must, shee'll raile [...]'the [...]reete else.

Iag.

Will you sup there?

Cas.

Faith I intend so.

Iag.

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

Cas.

Preethee come, will you?

Iag.

Goe to, say no more.

Exit Ca [...]sio.
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?

Oth.
[Page 66]

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

Iag.

Nay you must forget.

Oth.

And let her rot and perish, 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, she might lie by an Emperours side, and command him taskes.

Iag.

Nay that's not your way.

Oth.

Hang her, I doe but say what she is: So delicate with her n [...]edle, an admirable musition, O shee will sing the sauagenesse out of a Beare; of so hye and plentious wit and inu [...]tion.

Iag.

Shee's the worse for all this.

Oth.

A thousand thousand times: and then of so gentle a con­dition.

Iag.

I, too gentle.

Oth.

I that's certaine, but yet the pi [...]ty of 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 messes—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 expostulate with her, lest her body and beauty vnprouide my minde agen, this night Iago.

Iag.

Doe it not with poison, strangle her in her bed, eu [...]n the bed she hath contaminated.

Oth.

Good, good, the iustice of [...]t pleases very good.

Iag.

And for Cassio, let me bee his vnde [...]taker: you shall heare more by midnight.

A Trumpet.
Enter Lodouico, Desdemona, and Attenda [...]s.
Oth.
Excellent good:
What Trumpet is that same?
Iag.
Something from Venice sure, tis Lodouice,
Come from the Duke, and see your wife is with [...].
Lod.
[Page 67]
God saue the worthy Generall.
Oth.
With all my heart sir.
Lod.
The Duke and Senators of Venice greete you.
Oth.
I kisse the instrument of their pleasures.
Des.
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 Leiutenant Cassio?
Iag.
Liues sir.
Des.
Cousen, there's falne betweene him and my Lord,
An vnkind breach, but you shall make all well.
Oth.
Are you sure of that?
Des.
My Lord.
Oth.
This faile you not to doe, as you will.
Lod.
He did not call, hee's busie in the paper:
Is there diuision betweene thy Lord and Cassio?
Des.
A most vnhappy one, I would doe much
To attone them, for the loue I bea [...] to Cassio.
Oth.
Fire and Brimstone.
Des.
My Lord.
Oth.
Are you wise?
Desd.
What, is he angry?
Lod.
May be the letter mou'd him;
For as I thinke, they doe command him home,
Deputing Cassio in his gouernement.
Desd.
By my troth, I am glad on't.
Oth.
Indeed.
Des.
My Lord.
Oth.
I am glad to see you mad.
Des.
How sweete Othello?
Oth.
Diuell.
Des.
I haue not deseru'd this.
Lod.
My Lord, this would not be b [...]leeu'd in Venice,
Tho I sh [...]u [...]d sweare I saw't: tis very much,
Make her ame [...] [...]s, she weepes.
Oth.
O Diuell, Diuell,
If that the earth could teeme with womens teares
Each drop she falls, would proue a Croca [...]le:
[Page 68]Out of my sight.
Des.
I will not stay to offend you.
Lod.
Truely an obedient Lady:
I doe beseech your Lordship, call her backe.
Oth.
Mistri [...]se.
Des
My Lord.
Oth.
What would you with her sir?
Lod.
Who, I my Lord?
Oth.
I, you did wish that I would make her turne:
Sir she can turne, and turne, and yet go on,
And turne againe, and she can weepe sir, weepe;
And shee's obedient, as you say, obedient;
Very obedient, proceed you in your teares,
Concerning this sir: O well painted passion:
I am commanded here:—get you away,
I'le send for you anon:—Sir, I ob [...]y the mandat,
And will returne to Venice:—hence, auant,
Cassio shall haue my place; and sir to night
I doe intreate that we may sup together,
You are welcome sir to Cypres,—goates and monkies.
Exit.
Lod.
Is this the noble Moore, whom our full Senate
Call all in all sufficient? This the noble nature,
Whom passion c [...]uld not shake? Whose solid vertue,
The shot of accident, nor dart of chance
Could neither graz [...], 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 wel [...]; yet would I knew
That stroake 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.
[Page 69]It is not honesty in me to speake,
What I haue seene and known [...], you shall obserue him,
And his owne courses wi [...]l 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 seene nothing then.
Em.
Nor euer heard, nor euer did suspect.
Oth.
Yes, and you haue seene Cassio and she together.
Em.
But then I saw no harme, and then I heard
Each sillable 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 foule as slander.
Exit 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 shee'll kneele and pray, I ha seene her do't.
Enter Desdemona and Emillia.
Des.
My Lord, what is your will?
Oth.
Pray chucke come hither.
Des.
What is your pleasure?
Oth.
[Page 70]
Let me see your eyes—looke in my face.
Des.
What horrible fancy's this?
Oth.
Some of your function mistris [...]e,
Leaue procre [...]nts alone, and shut the dore,
Coffe, or cry hem, if any body come,
Your mistery, your mist [...]ry: nay dispatch.
Exit Em.
Des.
Vpon my knees, what does your speech import?
I vnderstand a fury in your words,
But not the words.
O [...]h.
Why, what art thou?
Des.
Your wife my Lord, your true and loyall wife.
Oth.
Come, swea [...]e it, dam thy selfe,
Least being like one of heauen, the diuells themselues
Should feare to cease thee, therefore be double dambd.
Sweare thou art honest.
Des.
Heauen doth truely know it.
Oth.
Heauen truely knowes, that thou art false as hell.
Des.
To whom, my Lord, with whom? how am I false?
Oth.
O Desdemona, away, away, away.
Des.
Alas the heauy 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 pleas'd heauen
To try me with affliction, had he ram'd
All kindes of sores, and shames on my bare head.
S [...]eep'd me in pou [...]rty, to the very lips,
Giu [...]n to captiui [...]y, me and my hopes,
I should haue found in some part of my soule
A d [...]op of patience; but alas, to make me
A fixed figure, for the time of scorne,
To point his slow vnmouing fingers at—oh, oh,
Y [...]t could I beare that too, well, very well.
But there: where I haue garner'd vp my heart,
Wher [...] either I must liue, or beare no life,
[Page 71]The fountaine, from the which my currant [...]nes,
Or else dryes vp, to be discarded thence,
Or keepe it as a Cesterne, for foule Toades
To knot and gender in: tume thy complexion there,
Patience thy young and rose-lip'd Cherubin,
I here looke grim as Hell.
Des.
I hope my noble Lord esteemes me honest.
Oth.
O [...], as summers flies, are in the shambles,
That quicken euen with blowing:
O thou blacke w [...]ede, why art so louely faire?
Thou smell'st so sweete, that the sence akes at thee,
Would thou hadst ne're bin borne.
Des.
Alas, what ignorant sinne haue [...] committed?
Oth.
Was this faire paper, this most goodly booke,
Made to write whore on?—What, committed?
Heauen stops the nose at it, and the Moone w [...]nkes,
The bawdy wind, that kisses all it meetes,
Is husht within the hallow mine of earth,
And will not hear' [...]:— what committed,-impudent strumpet.
Des.
By heauen you doe me wrong.
Oth.
Are not you a strumpet?
Des.
No, as I am a Christian:
If to preserue this vessell for my Lord,
From any hated foule vnlawfull touch,
Be n [...]t to be a strumpet, I am none.
Oth.
What, not a whore?
Des.
No, as I shall be saued.
Enter Emillia.
Oth.
Ist possible?
Des.
O heauen forgiuen [...]sse.
Oth.
I cry you mercy,
I tooke you for that cunning whore of Venic [...],
That married with Othello: you mistri [...]se,
That haue the office opposite to S. Peter,
And keepes the gates in hell, I, you, you, you;
We ha done our course; there's money for your paines,
I pray you turne the key, and keepe our counsell.
Exit.
Em.
Alas, what does this Gentl [...]man conceiue?
[Page 72]How doe you Madam how doe you my good Lady?
Des.
Faith halfe asleepe.
Em.
Good Madam, what's the matter with my Lord?
Des.
With who?
Em.
Why with my Lord Madam.
Des.
I ha none, doe not talke to me Emillia,
I cannot weepe, nor answer haue I none,
But what should goe by water: preethee to night
Lay on my bed our wedding sheetes, remember,
And call thy husband hither.
Em.
Here is a charge indeed.
Exit.
Des.
Tis meete I should be vsde so, very well;
[...]ow haue I bin behau'd, that he might sticke
The smallest opinion, on my greatest abuse.
Lag.
What is your pleasure Madam,
How i [...] with you?
Enter lago. and Emillia.
Des.
I cannot tell: those that doe teach young babes
Doe it with gentle meanes, [...]nd easie taskes,
He might ha chid me so, for in good faith,
I am a child at chiding.
lag.
What is the matter Lady?
Em.
Alas lago, my Lord hath so bewhor'd her,
Throwne such despite, and heauy termes vpon her,
As true hearts cannot beare.
Des.
Am I that name lago?
lag.
What name faire Lady?
Des.
Such as she sayes my Lord did say I was?
Em.
He call'd her whore: A begger in his drinke,
Could not haue layed such tearmes vpon his Callet.
lag.
Why did he so?
Des.
I doe not know, I am sure I am none such.
lag.
Doe not weepe, doe not weepe: alas the day.
Em.
Has she forsooke so many noble matches,
Her Father, and her Countrey, all her friends,
To be cald whore? would it not make one weepe?
Des.
It is my wretched fortune.
Iag.
Beshrew him for it; how comes this tricke vpon him?
Des.
[Page 73]
Nay, heauen doth know.
Em.
I will be hang'd, if some eternall villaine,
Some busie and insinuating rogue,
Some cogging, cousening slaue, to get some office,
Haue not deuisde this slander, I'le be hang'd else.
Iag.
Fie, there is no such man, it is impossible.
Des.
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 keepes 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 thoudst vnfold,
And put in euery honest hand a whip,
To lash the rascall naked through the world,
Euen from the East to the West.
Iag.
Speake within dores.
Em.
O fie 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 foole, goe to.
Des.
O Good Iago,
VVhat shall I doe to win my Lord againe?
Good friend goe to him, for by this light of heauen,
I know not how I lost 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.
Des.
If t'were no other.
Iag.
Tis but so, I warrant you;
Harke how these Instruments 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 iustly with me.
Iag.
VVhat in the contrary?
Rod.
Euery day, thou dof [...]st me, with some deuise Iago;
[Page 78]And rather, as it seemes to me, thou keepest from me,
All conueniency, then suppliest me, with the least
Aduantage of hope: I will indeed no longer indure it,
Nor am I yet perswaded to put vp in peace, what already
I haue foolishly sufferd.
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 vniustly.
Rod.

I haue wasted my selfe out of meanes: the Iewels you haue had from me, to deliuer to Desdemona, would halfe haue corrupted a Votarist: you haue told me she has receiu'd em, 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 tis very s [...]uruy, and begin to finde my selfe fopt 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 r [...]pent my vnlawfull sollicitation, if not, assure your selfe I'le seeke satisfaction 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 hast taken against me a most iust concep­tion, but yet I protest, I haue delt 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 hast that within thee indeed, which I haue greater reason to beleeue now, then euer, I meane purpose, courage, and valour, this night shew it, if thou the next night following enioyest not Desdemona, take mee from this world with treachery, and deuise engines for my life.

Rod.
[Page 77]
Well, is it within reason and compasse?
Iag.
Sir, there is especiall command come from Venice,
To depute Cassio 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, vnl [...]sse his abode be linger'd

Here by some accident, wherein none can be so determinate, as the remouing of Cassio.

Rod.
How doe you meane remouing of him?
Iag.
Why, by making him vncapable of Othello's place,
Knocking out his braines.
Rod.
And that you would haue me to doe.
Iag.

I, and if you dare doe your selfe a profit, and right, hee sups 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 supper time, and the night growes to wast: about it.

Enter Othello, Desdemona, L [...]donico, Emillia, and Attendants.
Rod.
I will heare further reason for this.
Iag.
And you shall be satisfied.
Ex. Iag. and Rod.
Lod.
I do beseech 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.
Des.
Your honour is most welcome.
Oth.
Will you walke sir:—O Desdemona.
Des.
My Lord.
Oth.

Get you to bed, o'the instant I will be return'd, forthwith, dispatch your Attendant there,—looke it be done.

Ex [...]unt.
Des.
I will my Lord.
Em.
How goes it now? he lookes gen [...]er then he did.
Des.
[Page 76]
He [...]aies he will returne incontinent:
He hath commanded me to goe to bed,
And bad me to dismisse you.
Em.
Dismisse me?
Des.
It was his bidding, therefore good Emillia,
Giue me my nightly wearing, and adiue,
We must not now displease him.
Em.
I would you had neuer seene him.
Des.
So would not I, my loue doth so approue him,
That euen his stubbornene [...]se, his checks and frownes.
Prethee vnpin me; haue grace and fauour in them.
Em.
I haue laied these sheetes you [...]ade me, on the bed.
Des.
All's one good faith: how foolish are our minds?
If I doe die before thee, prethee shrowd me
In one of those same sh [...]e [...]es.
Em.
Come, come, you talke.
Des.
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 expre [...]t her fortune,
And she died singing it, that Song to night,
Will not goe from my mind—harke, who's that knocks?
Em.
It is the wind.
Des.
Now get thee gone, good night:
Mine eyes doe itch, does that bode weeping?
Em.
Tis neither here nor there.
Des.
Wouldst thou doe such a deed, for all the world?
Em.
Why would not you.
Des.
No, by this heauenly light.
Em.
Nor I neither, by this heauenly light,
I might doe it as well in the darke.
Des.
Would thou doe such a thing for all the world?
Em.
The world is a huge thing, it is a great price,
For a small vice.
Des.
Good troth I thinke thou wouldst not.
Em.

By my tro [...]h 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 mea­sures [Page 77] of Lawne, nor for Gownes, or Petticotes, nor Caps, nor any such exhibition; but for the whole world? vds pitty, who would not make her husband a Cuckole, to make him a Monarch? I [...]hould venture [...]gatory for it.

Des.
Bes [...] rew 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 quickly make it right.

Des.

I doe 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.

Des.
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 stand behind this Bulke, straite will he come,
Weare thy good Rapier bare, and put it home▪
Quicke, quicke, feare 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 deuotion to the dead;
And yet he has giuen me satisfying reasons,
Tis but [...] 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 Cassio,
Or Cassio him, or each doe kill the other,
Euery way makes my game; liue Roderigo.
He calls me to a restitution large,
For Gold and Iewells, that I bobd from him,
As gifts to Desdemona:
It must not be, if Cassio doe remaine,
[Page]He has a daily beauty in his life,
That makes me vgly: and besides, the Moore
May vnfould me to him; there stand I in perrill:
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 enemy indeed,
But that my coate is better then thou think'st,
I will make proofe of thine.
Rod.
O I am slaine.
Cas.
I am maind for euer, light ho, murder, murder.
Enter Othello.
Oth.
The voice of Cassio, Iago keepes 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 Iu [...]t,
That hast such noble sence of thy friends wrong,
Thou teachest me;—mino [...], your deare lies dead,
And your fate hies apa [...]e; strumpet I come;
Forth of my heart, those charmes thine eyes are blotted,
Thy bed lu [...]t-staind, shall with lusts blood be spotted.
Ex.
Enter Lodouico and Gratiano.
Cas.
What ho, no watch, no passage, murder, murder
Grat.
Tis some mischance, the cry [...] very direfull.
Cas.
O helpe.
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 [...]all I bleed to death.
Enter lago with a light.
Lod.
Harke.
Grat.
Here's one comes in his shirt, with lights and weapons,
Iag.
Who's there? whose noise is this, that cries on murder.
Lod.
I doe not know.
Iag.
Did not you heare a cry?
Cas.
Here, here, for heauens sake helpe me.
Iag.
[Page]
What's the matter.
Grat.
This is Othello's Ancient, as I take it.
Lod.
The same indeed, a very valiant fellow.
Iag.
What are you here, that cry so gre [...]uou [...]ly?
Cas.
Iago, O I am spoil'd, vndone by villaines,
Giue me some helpe.
Iag.
O my Leiutenant: what villaines haue done this?
Cas.
I thinke the one of them is heere about,
And cannot make away.
Iag.
O treacherous villaines:
What are you there? come in and giue some helpe.
Rod.
O helpe me here.
Cas.
That's one of em.
Iag.
O murderous slaue, O villaine.
Rod.
O dambd Iago, O in humaine dog,—o, o, o.
Ia.
Kill him i'the dark? where be those bloody theeues?
How silent is this Towne? Ho, murder, murder:
What may you be, are you of good or euill?
Lod.
As you shall proue vs, praise vs.
Iag.
Seignior Lodouico.
Lod.
He sir.
Iag.
I cry you mercy: here's Cassio hurt by villaines.
Grat.
Cassio.
Iag.
How is it brother?
Cas.
My leg is cut in two.
Iag.
Mary heauen forbid:
Light Gentlemen, I'le bind it with my shirt.
Enter Bianca.
Bian.
What is the matter ho, who ist that cried?
Iag.
Who ist that cried.
Bian.
O my deare Cassio, O my sweete Cassio, Cassio, Cassio.
Iag.
O notable strumpet: Cassio may you suspect
Who they should be, that thus haue mangled you?
Cas.
No.
Gra.
I am sorry to find you thus, I haue bin to seeke you.
Bian.
Alas he faints, O Cassio, Cassio, Cassio.
Iag.
Gentlemen all, I doe suspect this trash
[Page]To beare a part in this: patience a while good Cass [...]:
Lend me a ligh [...]; know we this face, or no?
Alas my friend, and my deare countrey man:
Roderig [...]? no, yes sure: O heauen Roderig [...].
Gra.
What of V [...]nice?
Iag.
Euen he sir, did you know him?
Gra.
Know him? I.
Iag.
Seignior Grati [...], I cry you gentle pardon:
These bloody accidents must excuse my manners,
That so neglected you.
Gra.
I am glad to see you.
Iag.
How doe you Cassio? O a chaire, a chaire.
Gra.
Roderigo.
Iag.
He, tis he: O that's well said, a chaire:
Some good man beare him carefully from hence,
I'le fetch the Generalls Surgeon: for you mistrisse,
Saue you your labour, he that lies slaine here Cassio,
Was my deare friend, what malice was betwixt you?
Cas.
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 mistrisse?
Doe you perceiue the ieastures of her eye,
Nay, an you stirre, 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 vse.
Enter Em.
Em.
'Las what's the matter? what's the matter husband?
Iag.
Cassio has here bin set on in the darke,
By Roderigo, and fellowes that are scap't,
Hee's almost slaine, and Roderigo dead.
Em.
Alas good gentleman, alas good Cassio.
Iag.
This is the fruite of whoring, pray Emillia,
Goe know of Cassio, 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, fie vpon thee strumpet.
Bian.
[Page]
I am no strumpet, but of life as honest,
As you, that thus abuse me.
Em.
As I [...]ough, fie vpon thee.
Iag.
Kind Gentlemen, let's goe see poore Cassio drest [...]
Com [...] mistresse, 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 markes me, or foredoes me quite.
Ex [...]nt.
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 starres:
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, else shee'll betray more men,
Put out the light, and then put out the light:
If I quench thee, thou flaming minister,
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 selfe 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 so [...]owes heauenly,
It strikes when it does loue: she wakes.
Des.
Who's there, Oth [...]llo?
Oth.
I, Desdemona.
Des.
Will you come to bed my Lord?
Oth.
Haue you prayed to night, Desdemona?
Des.
[Page 90]
I my Lord:
Oth.
If you bethinke your selfe of any crime,
Vnreconcil'd as yet to heauen and grace,
Sollicite for it straite.
Des.
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 spi [...],
No, [...]eauen fore-fend, I would not kill thy soule.
Des.
Talke you of killing?
Oth.
I, I doe.
Des.
Then heauen haue mercy on me.
Oth.
Amen, with all my heart.
Des.
If you say so, I hope you will not kill me.
Oth.
Hum.
Des.
And yet I feare you, for you are fatall then,
Wh [...]n 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 sinnes.
Des.
They are loues I beare to you.
Oth.
And for that thou diest.
Des.
That death's vnnatur [...]ll, that kills for louing,
Alas, why gn [...]w 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.
Des.
I will, so, what's the ma [...]ter?
Oth.
That handkercher which I so lou'd, and gaue thee,
Thou gauest to Cassio.
Des.
No, by my life and soule,
Send for the man and aske him.
Oth.
Sweete soule take heed, take heed of p [...]iury,
Thou art on thy death-bed.
Des.
I, but not yet to die.
Oth.
Yes, presently:
Therefore confesse thee freely of thy sinne,
For to deny each article with oath,
[Page 91]Cannot remoue, nor choke the strong conc [...]t,
That I doe groane withall: thou art to die.
Des.
Then Lord haue mercy on me.
Oth.
I say Amen.
Des.
And haue you mercy too:
I neuer did offend you in my life,—neuer lou'd Cassio,
But with such generall warranty of heauen,
As I m [...]ght 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 makest me call, what I intend to doe,
A murder, which I thought a sacrifice,
I saw the handkercher.
Des.
He found it then,
I neuer gaue it him, se [...]d for him hither,
And let him confesse a truth.
Oth.
He has confest.
Des.
What, my Lord?
Oth.
Tha [...] he hath—vds death.
Des.
How, vnlawfully?
Oth.
I.
Des.
He will not say so.
Oth.
No, his mouth is stop'd,
Honest Iago hath tane order for't.
Des.
My feare interprets then,—what is he dead?
Oth.
Had all his haires bin liues,
My great reuenge had stomacke for 'em all.
Des.
Alas he is betraid, and I vndone.
Oth.
O strumpet,—weepest thou for him to my face?
Des.
O bannish me, my Lord, but kill me not.
Oth.
Downe strump [...]t.
Des.
Kill me to morrow, let me liue to night.
Oth.
Nay, an you striue.
Des.
But halfe an houre, but while I say one prayer.
Oth.
Tis too late.
he stif [...]es her.
Des.
O Lord, Lord, Lord.
Emillia calls within.
Em.
My Lord, my Lord, what ho, my Lord, my Lord.
Oth.
[Page 92]
What voyc [...] is this? not dead? not yet quite dead?
I that am cruell, 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'de speake a word with you.
Oth.
Yes, tis Emillia, by and by: shee's dead:
Tis like she comes to speake of Cassios death;
The noyse 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 best?
If she come in, shee'll sure speake to my wife.
My wife, my wife, my wife; I ha no wife;
O insupportable: O heauy 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 beseech 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? whats the matter with thee now?
Em.
O [...]y 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.
Cassio my Lord has kil'd a yong Venetian,
Cal'd Roderigo.
Oth.
Roderigo kild, and Cassio kild?
Em.
No, Cassio is not kild.
Oth.
Not Cassio kild, then murders out of tune,
And sweete reuenge growes harsh.
Des.
O falsly, falsly murdered.
Em.
O Lord, what cry is that?
Oth.
That? what?
Em.
Out and alas, it is my Ladyes voy [...]
[Page 93]Helpe, helpe, ho helpe, O Lady speake againe,
Sweete Desdemona, O sweete Mistresse speake.
Des.
A guiltlesse death I die.
Em.
O who has done this deed?
Des.
No body, I my selfe, farewell:
Commend me to my kinde Lord, O farewell.
she dies.
Oth.
Why, how should she be murdered?
Em.
Alas, who knowes?
Oth.
You heard her say, her selfe, it was not I.
Em.
She sayd so, I must needes report a truth.
Oth.
She's like a lyer, gone to burning Hell,
[...]T was 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 whore.
Em.
Thou doest bely her, and thou art a diuell.
Oth.
She was false as water.
Em.
Thou as rash as fire,
To say that she was false: O she was heauenly true.
Oth.
Cassio did top her, aske thy husband else,
O I were damn'd beneath all depth in hell,
But that I did proceed, vpon iust 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 Cassio: nay, had she bin true,
If heauen would make me such another world,
Of one intire and perfect Crisolite,
I'de not haue sold 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 i [...]eration? woman, I say thy husband.
Em.
If he say so, may his pernitious soule.
[Page 94]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 wast worthy her.
Oth.
Peace, you were best.
Em.
Thou hast not halfe the power to doe me harme,
As I haue to be hurt: O gull, O dolt,
As ignorant as dirtt; thou hast done a deed—
I care not for thy sword, I'le make thee know,
Tho I lost twenty liues: helpe, helpe, O helpe;
The Moore has kild my Mistresse, 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 villa me, if thou bee'st a man;
He sayes 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 himselfe was apt and true.
Em.
But did you euer tell him she was false?
Iag.
I did.
Em.
You told a lie, an odious damned lie;
Vpon my soule, a lie, a wicked lie:
She false with Cassio; did you say with Cassio?
Iag.
With Cassio mistrefle; go to, charme you tongue.
Em.
I will not charme my tongue, I am bound to speake.
Iag.
What are you mad, I charge you 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,
[Page 95]For thou hast kild the sweetest innocent,
That ere did lift vp eye.
Oth.
O she was foule:
I scarce did know you Vncle, there lies your Niece,
Whose breath indeed, these hands haue newly [...]topt,
I know this act shewes 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 at wane: did he liue now,
This sight 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 Cassio, hath the act of shame
A thousand times committed; Cassio confest it,
And she did gratifie his amorous workes,
With the recognisance and pledge of loue,
Which I first gaue her; I saw it in his hand,
It was a handkercher; an Antique token
My father gaue my mother.
Em.
O God, O heauenly God.
Iag.
Zouns, hold your peace.
Em.
'Twill out, 'twill: I hold my peace sir, no,
I'le be in speaking, liberall as the ayre,
Let heauen, and men, and diuells, let em all.
All, all cry shame against me, yet I'le speake.
Iag.
Be wise, and get you home.
Em.
I will not.
Gra.
Fie, your sword vpon a woman?
Em.
O thou dull Moore, that handkercher thou speak [...] on,
I found by fortune, and did giue my husband:
For often with a solemne earnestnesse,
More then indeed belong'd to such a trifle,
He beg'd of me to steale it.
Iag.
Villainous whore.
Em.
She gaue it Cassio? no alas I found it,
And I did giu't my husband.
Iag.
[Page 96]
Filth thou liest.
Em.
By heauen I doe not, I doe not Gentlemen,
O murderous Coxcombe! what should such a foole
Doe with so good a woman?
The Moore runnes at Iago. Iago kils his wife.
Oth.
Are there no stones in heauen,
But what serues 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.
Exit Iago.
Gra.
Hee's gone, but his wife's kild.
Mon.
Tis a notorious villaine, take your weapon,
Which I haue here recouered from the Moore:
Come, guard the dore without, let him not passe,
But kill him rather, I'le after that same villaine,
For tis a damned slaue.
Exit Mont. and Gratiano.
Oth.
I am not valiant neither,
But euery puny whipster gets my sword,
But why should honour out liue honesty?
Let it goe all.
Em.
Moore, she was chast, she lou'd thoe cruell Moore,
So come my soule to blisse, as I speake true;
So speaking as I thinke, I die, I die.
she dies.
Oth.
I haue another weapon in this chamber,
It is a sword of Spaine, the Ise brookes temper;
O here it is; Vncle I must come forth.
Gra, within.
Gra.
If thou attempt it, it will cost thee decre,
Thou hast no weapon, and perforce must 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 sustaine
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,
[Page 97]Pale as thy smo [...]ke, when we shall meet at count,
This looke of thine, will hurle my soule from heauen,
And [...]iends will snatch at it: cold, cold my girle,
Euen like thy chastity; O cursed slaue:
Whippe me you Diuells,
From the possession of this heauenly sight,
Blow me about in winds, roast me in sulphur [...],
Wash me in s [...]eepe downe gulphes of liquid fire:
O Des [...]emona, Desdemoua, dead, O, o, o.
Enter Lodouico, Montano, Iago, and Officers, Cassio in a Chaire.
Lod.
Where is this rash and most infortunate man.
Oth.
Tha [...]'s he that was Othello, here I am.
Lod.
Where is this Viper, bring the villaine forth.
Oth.
I l [...]ke downe towards his feet, but that's a fable
If th [...]u bees [...] a diuell, I cannot kill thee.
Lod.
Wring his sword from him.
Iag.
I bl [...]ed sir, but not kil'd.
Oth.
I am not sorry neither, I'de haue thee liue,
For in my sense tis happinesse to die.
Lod.
O thou Othello, that wert once so good,
Falne in the practise of a damned slaue,
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 con [...]ent in Cassio's death?
Oth.
I.
Cas.
Deare Generall, I did neuer giue you cause.
Oth.
I doe beleeue it, and I aske you pardon,
Will you [...]ay, d [...]and that demy diuell,
Why he hath thus in [...]ar'd my soule and body?
Iag.
D [...]mand 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.
Oth.
[Page 98]
Well, thou doest best.
Lod.
Sir, you shall vnderstand what hath befalue,
Which, as I thinke you know not: here is a letter,
Found in the pocket of the slaine Roderigo;
And here another; the one of them imports
The death of Cassio; to be vndertooke—by Roderigo.
Oth.
O villaine.
Cas.
Most h [...]athenish, and most grosse.
Lod.
Now heres another discontented paper,
Found in his pocket too, and this it seemes,
Roderigo meant to haue sent this damned villaine,
But that belike, Iago, in the nicke
Came in, and satisfied him.
Oth.
O the pernitious catieffe!
How came you Cassio by a handkercher,
That was my wifes?
Cas.
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.
Cas.
There is besides in Roderigoes letter
How he vpbraides Iago, that he made him,
B [...]ue me vpon the watch, whereon it came,
That I was cast; and euen but now he spake,
After long s [...]eming dead, Iago, hurt him,
Iago set him on.
Lod.
You must forsake this roome, and goe with vs,
Your power and your command is taken off,
And Cassio rules in Cypres: for this slaue,
If there be any cunning cruelty,
That can torment him much, and hold him long,
It shall be his: you shall close prisoner rest,
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't;
[Page 99]No more of that: I pray you in your letters,
When you shall these vnlucky deedes relate,
Speake of them as they are; nothing extenuate,
Nor set downe ought in malice, then must you speake,
Of one that lou'd not wisely, but too well:
Of one not easily iealous, but being wrought,
Perplext in the extreame; of one whose hand,
Like the base Indian, threw a pearle away.
Richer then all his Tribe: of one whose subdued eyes,
Albeit vnused to the melting moode,
Drops teares as fast as the Arabian trees,
Their medicinall gum; set you downe this,
And say besides, that in Al [...]ppo once,
Where a Malignant and a Turband Turke,
Beate a Venetian, and traduc'd the State;
I tooke b [...]'ch throate the circumcised dog,
And smote him thus.
He stabs himselfe.
Lod.
O bloody period.
Gra.
All that's spoke is mard.
Oth.
I kist thee ere I kild thee, no way but this,
Killing my selfe, to die vpon a kisse.
He dies.
Cas.
This did I feare, but thought he had no weapon,
For he was great of heart.
Lod.
O Spartane dog,
More fell then anguish, hunger, or the Sea,
Looke on the trag [...]cke lodging of this bed:
This is thy worke, the obiect poisons sight,
Let it be hid: Gratiano, keepe the house,
And ceaze vpon the fortunes of the Moore:
For they succeed 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 aboord, and to the State,
This heauy act with heauy heart relate.
Exeunt omnes.
FINIS.

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