Puslapio vaizdai
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Till that a capable, and wide Revenge
i
Swallow them up. Now by yond marble Heav'n,
In the due reverence of a sacred Vow,

[He kneels

. I here engage my Words ---Jago. Do not rise yet:

[Jago kneels

.
Witness your ever-burning Lights above,
You Elements that clip us round about,
Witnels that here Jago doth give up
The Execution of his Wit, Hands, Heart,
To wrong'd Qihello's Service. Let him command,
And to obey shall be in me remorse,
What bloody Business ever.

Oth. I greet thy Love,
Not with vain Thạnks, but with acceptance bounteous,
And will upon the instant pur thee to't:
Within these three Days let me hear thee say,
That Cassio's not alive.

Fago. My Friend is dead :
'Tis done at your request. But let her live.

Oih. Damn her lewd Minx! O damn her, damn her!
Come go with me apart, I will withdraw
To furnish me with some swift means of Death
For the fair Devil. Now art thou my Lieutenant.
Fago. I am your own for ever.

[Exeunt. Enter Desdemona; Æmilia, and Clown. Des. Do you know, Sirrah, where Lieutenant Caffio lyes Clown. I dare not say he lies any where.

.
Def, Why Man?

Clown. He's a Soldier, and for me to say a Soldier lies, 'tis ftabbing.

Def. Go to; where lodges he ?

Clown. To tell you where he lodges, is to tell you where I lie.

Des. Can any thing be made of this?

Clown. I know not where he lodges, and for me to devise a Lodging, and say helyes here, or he lyes there, were to lie in mine own Throat.

Def. Can you enquire him out ? and be edified by report?

Clown,

Clown. I will Catechize the World for him, that is, make Questions, and by them Answer.

Def. Seek him, bid him come hither ; 'tell him, I have moy'd my Lord on his behalf, and hope all will be well.

Clown. To do this, is within the Compass of Man's Wit, and therefore I will attempt the doing of it. Exit Clown.

Def. Where should I lose the Handkerchief, Æmilia?

Æmil. I know not, Madam.

Def. Believe me, I had rather have lost my purse
Full of Cruzadoes. And but my noble Moor
Is true of mind, and made of no such baseness,
As jealous Creatures are, it were enough
To put him to ill thinking.

Æmil. Is he not Jealous ?

Def. Who he? I think the Sun where he was born, Drew all such Humors from him.

Amil. Look where he comes.

Def. I will not leave him now, 'till Cassio be Called to him. How is't with you, my Lord?

Enter Othello.
Oth. Well, my good Lady. Ob hardness to dissemble !
How do you, Desdemora?

Des. Well, my good Lord.
Oth. Give me your Hard; this Hand is moist, my Lady.
Def. It yet hath felt no Age, nor known no Sorrow.

Oth. This argues Fruitfulness, and liberal Heart;
Hot, hot, and moist --- this hand of yours requires
A sequester from Liberty ; Fafting, and Prayer,
Much Castigation, Exercise devout,
For here's a young and sweating Devil here,
That commonly rebels : 'Tis a good Hand,
A frank one.

Des. You may, indeed, say so;
For 'twas that Hand that gavę away my Heart.

Oth. A liberal Hand. The hearts of old, gave hands;
But our new Heraldry is Hands, not Hearts.

Des. I cannot speak of this; come, now your Promise.
Oth. What promise, Chuck ?
Des. I have sent to bid Cassio come speak with you.
Oth. I have a sale and forry Rheum offends me ;

Lend

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Lend me thy Handkerchief.

Des. Here, my Lord.
Oth. That which I gave you.
Def. I have it not about me.
Oth. Not?
Def. No indeed, my Lord.

Oth. That's a fault.' That Handkerchief
Did an Ægyptian to my Mother give ;
She was a Charmer, and could almost read
The Thoughts of People. She told her, while the kept it,
Twould make her amiable, subdue my Father
Intirely to her love ; but if she loft it,
Or made a Gift of it, my Father's Eye
Should hold her loathed, and his Spirits should hunt
After new Fancies. She, dying, gave it

me,
And bid me, when my Fate would have me wird,
To give it her. I did so, and take heed on't;
Make it a Darling, like your precious Eye ;
To loos't, or give't away, were such Perdițion,
As nothing else could match.

Def. Is't possible?"

Oth. 'Tis true ; there's Magick in the Web of it;
A Sybill that had numbred in the World
The Sun to course two hundred Compasses,
In her prophetick Fury fow'd the work :
The Worms were hallowed, that did breed the Silk,
And it was dy'd in Mummey, which the skilful
Conserv'd of Maidens Hearts.

Des. Indeed ! is't true ?
Oth. Most' veritable, therefore look to't well.
Des. Then would to Heav'n, that I had never seen't,
Oih. Ha ? wherefore ?
Des. Why do you speak so startingly, and rafh?
Oth. Is't loft? is't gone ? Speak, is'c out o'th' way?
Def. Bless us !
Oth. Say you?
Der. It is not loft; but what and if it were ?
Oth. How ?
Desi I say it is not loft.
Oth. Ferch't, let me see't.

Des.

Des. Why so I can, Sir, but I will not now :
This is a trick to put me from my Suit,
Pray you let Caffo be receiv'd again.
Oth. Fetch me the Handkerchief

my mind milgives

Des. Come, come; you'll never meet a more fufficient Man.

Oth. The Handkerchief

Def. A Man that all his time
Hath founded his good Fortunes on your Love ;
Shar'd Dangers with you.

Oth. The Handkerchief
Def. Insooth, you are to blame.
Oth. Away.

[Exit Othello, Amil. Is not this Man jealous ?

Def. I never saw this before.
Sure there's some wonder in this Handkerchief,
I am most unhappy in the loss of it.

Æmil. 'Tis not a Year or two shews us a Man:
They are all but Stomachs, and we all but Food,
They eat us hungerly, and when they are full
They belch us.

Enter Jago, and Callio. Look you, Callio, and my Husband.

Jago. There is no other way, 'tis she must do't; And lo the happiness ; go and importune her.

Des. How now, good Caffio, what's the News with

you?

a

Caf. Madam, my former Suit. I do beleech you,
That by your virtuous means, I may again
Exist, and be a Member of his Love,
Whom I, with all the office of

my

Heart
Intirely honour. I would not be delay'd ;
If my Offence be of such mortal kind,
That not my Service past, nor present Sorrows,
Nor purpos'd Merit in Futurity,
Can ransom me into his Love again ;
But to know fo, must be my Benefit ;
So shall I cloath me in a forc'd content,
And

shut my self up in some other Course, To Fortunes Alms,

Des. [Exit.

Def. Alas ! thrice gentle Callio,
My Advocation is not now in tune ;
My Lord, is not my Lord; nor should I know him,
Were he in Favour, as in Humour alter'd.
So help me every Spirit fan&ified,
As I have spoken for you all my best,
And stood within the blank of his Displeasure,
For my free Speech. You muft a while be patient;
What I can do, I will; and more I will
Than for my self I dare. Let that suffice

you. Jago. Is my Lord angry?

Æmil. He went hence but now ;
And certainly in strange unquietness.

Jago. Can he be angry? I have seen the Canon,
When it hath blown his Ranks into the Air,
And like the Devil from his very Arm
Puft his own Brother; and is he angry?
Something of Moment then; I will go meet him,
There's matter in't indeed, if he be angry.

Def. I prethee do so. Something sure of State,
Either from Venice, or some unhatch'd Practice,
Made demonstrable here in Cyprus, to him,
Hath pudled his clear Spirit ; and in such Cafes,
Mens Natures wrangle with inferior things,
Tho'great ones are their Obje&. 'Tis even so.
For ler our Finger ake, and it endues
Our other healthful Members, even to a Sense
Of pain. Nay, we must think Men are not Gods,
Nor of them look for such Observance always,
As fits the brida!. Beshrew me much, Æmilia,
I was, unhandsome Warrior as I am,
Arraigning his unkindness with my Soul ;
But now I find, I had suborn'd the Witness,
And he's indited falsely.

Æmil. Pray Heav'n it be
S arc-matters, as you think, and no Conception,
Nor jealous Toy concerning you.

Def. Alas-the-day, I never gave him Cause.
Æmil. But jealous Souls will not be answerd so;
They are not ever jealous for the Cause,

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