Imagini ale paginilor
PDF
ePub

Sometimes, to do me service: Nine or ten times
I had thought to have yerk'd him here under the
Oth. 'Tis better as it is.
Iago.

[ribs.

Nay, but he prated, And spoke such scurvy and provoking terms Against your honour,

That, with the little godliness I have,
I did full hard forbear him. But, I pray, sir,
Are you fast married? for, be sure of this,-
That the magnifico is much beloved;
And hath, in bis effect, a voice potential
As double as the duke's; he will divorce you;
Or put upon you what restraint and grievance
The law (with all his might, to enforce it on,)
Will give him cable.

Oth. Let him do his spite: My services, which I have done the signiory, Shall out-tongue his complaints. 'Tis yet to know, (Which, when I know that boasting is an honour, I shall promulgate,) I fetch my life and being From men of royal siege; and my demerits May speak, unbonneted, to as proud a fortune As this that I have reach'd: For know, lago, But that I love the gentle Desdemona, I would not my unhoused free condition Put into circumscription and contine

For the sea's worth. But, look! what lights come yonder?

Enter CASSIO, at a distance, and certain Officers

with torches.

Iago. These are the raised father, and his friends: You were best go in. Oth. Not I: I must be found; My parts, my title, and my perfect soul, Shall manifest me rightly. Is it they?

Jago. By Janus, I think no.

Oth. The servants of the duke, and my lieutenant. The goodness of the night upon you, friends! What is the news? Cas.

The duke does greet you, general; And he requires your haste-post-haste appearance, Even on the instant. Oth.

What is the matter, think you? Cas. Something from Cyprus, as I may divine; It is a business of some heat: the gallies Have sent a dozen sequent messengers This very night at one another's heels; And many of the consuls, rais'd, and met, Are at the duke's already: You have been hotly

call'd for;

When, being not at your lodging to be found, The senate hath sent about three several quests, To search you out.

Oth.

'Tis well I am found by you. I will but spend a word here in the house, And go with you.

Cas.

[Exit. Ancient, what makes he here? Iago. 'Faith, he to-night hath boarded a land carack;

If it prove lawful prize, he's made for ever.
Cas. I do not understand.
Iago.

He's married.

Cas.

To who?

[blocks in formation]

Good siguior, you shall more command with years, Than with your weapons.

Bra. O thou foul thief, where hast thou stow' my daughter? Damn'd as thou art, thou hast enchanted her: For I'll refer me to all things of sense, If she in chains of magic were not bound, Whether a maid-so tender, fair, and happy; So opposite to marriage, that she shunn'd The wealthy curled darlings of our nation, Would ever have, to incur a general mock, Run from her guardage to the sooty bosom Of such a thing as thou: to fear, not to delight. Judge me the world, if 'tis not gross in sense, That thou hast practis'd on her with foul charms; Abus'd her delicate youth with drugs or minerals, That waken'd motion:-I'll have it disputed ; 'Tis probable, and palpable to thinking. I therefore apprehend and do attach thee, For an abuser of the world, a practiser Of arts inhibited and out of warrant:Lay hold upon him; if he do resist, Subdue him at his peril.

est:

Oth. Hold your hands, Both you of my inclining, and the Were it my cue to fight, I should have known it Without a prompter. Where will you, that I go To answer this your charge?

Bra.

of law, and course of direct session, To prison: till fit time Call thee to answer.

Oth.

What if I do ober?
How may the duke be therewith satisfied,
Whose messengers are here about my side,
Upon some present business of the state,
To bring me to him?
Off.
'Tis true, most worthy signine,
The duke's in council; and your noble self,
I am sure, is sent for.
Bra.

In this time of the night!—Bring him away
How! the duke in consal!
Mine's not an idle cause: the duke himself,
Or any of my brothers of the state,
Cannot but feel this wrong, as 'twere their own:
For if such actions may have passage free,
Bond-slaves, and pagans, shall our statesmen be
[Exent

The Duke and Senators, sitting at a table; Offert SCENE III. The same. A Council-Chamber.

attending. Duke. There is no composition in these news, That gives them credit. 1 Sen. Indeed, they are disproportion'd; My letters say, a hundred and seven gallies. Duke. And mine, a hundred and forty. 2 Sen. And mine, two hundred But though they jump not on a just account, (As in these cases, where the aim reports, 'Tis oft with difference,) yet do they all confirm A Turkish fleet, and bearing up to Cyprus.

Duke. Nay, it is possible enough to judgment; I do not so secure me in the error, But the main article I do approve In fearful sense.

Sailor. (Within.) What ho! what ho! what he!

Enter an Officer, with a Sailor.

Off. A messenger from the gallies. Duke. Now? the business? Sail. The Turkish preparation makes for Rhedes; So was I bid report here to the state, By signior Angelo.

Duke. How say you by this change? 1 Sen. This cannot be By no assay of reason; 'tis a pageant, To keep us in false gaze: When we consider The importancy of Cyprus to the Turk; And let ourselves again but understand,

[ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors]

That, as it more concerns the Turk than Rhodes,
So may be with more facile question bear it,
For that it stands not in such warlike brace,
But altogether lacks th' abilities

[this,

That Rhodes is dress'd in :-if we make thought of
We must not think, the Turk is so unskilful,"
To leave that latest, which concerns him first;
Neglecting an attempt of ease, and gain,
To wake, and wage, a danger profitless.
Duke. Nay, in all confidence, he's not for Rhodes.
Off. Here is more news.

[ocr errors][merged small]

Mess. Of thirty sail: and now do they re-stem Their backward course, bearing with frank ap

pearance

Their purposes toward Cyprus.-Signior Montano,
Your trusty and most valiant servitor,
With his free duty recommends you thus,
And prays you to believe him.

Duke. 'Tis certain then for Cyprus.-
Marcus Lucchesé, is he not in town?

1 Sen. He's now in Florence.

Duke. Write from us; wish him post-post-haste: despatch. [Moor.

1 Sen. Here comes Brabantio, and the valiant Enter BRABANTIO, OTHELLO, IAGO, RODERIGO, and Officers.

Duke. Valiant Othello, we must straight employ

you Against the general enemy Ottoman. I did not see you; welcome, gentle signior; (To Brabantio.) We lack'd your counsel and your help to-night. Bra. So did I yours: good your grace, pardon me; Neither my place, nor aught I heard of business, Hath rais'd me from my bed; nor doth the general

care

Take hold on me; for my particular grief
Is of so flood-gate and o'erbearing nature,
That it engluts and swallows other sorrows,
And it is still itself.

Duke.
Why, what's the matter?
Bra. My daughter! O, my daughter!
Sen.
Dead?
Ay, to me;

Bra.
She is abus'd, stolen from me, and corrupted
By spells and medicines bought of mountebanks:
For nature so preposterously to err,

Being not deficient, blind, or lame of sense,
Sans witchcraft could not-

[ing,

Duke. Whoe'er he be, that, in this foul proceedHath thus beguil'd your daughter of herself, And you of her, the bloody book of law You shall yourself read in the bitter letter, After your own sense; yea, though our proper son Stood in your action.

Bra.

Humbly I thank your grace. Here is the man, this Moor; whom now, it seems, Your special mandate, for the state affairs, Hath hither brought.

Duke & Sen. We are very sorry for it. Duke. What, in your own part, can you say to this? (To Othello.)

Bra. Nothing, but this is so. Oth. Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors, My very noble and approv'd good masters,That I have ta'en away this old man's daughter, It is most true; true, I have married her; The very head and front of my offending Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in

my

speech, And little bless'd with the set phrase of peace;

For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith,
Till now, some nine moons wasted, they have us'd
Their dearest action in the tented field;
And little of this great world can I speak,
More than pertains to feats of broil and battle;
And therefore little shall I grace my cause,
In speaking for myself: Yet, by your gracious
patience,

I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver

Of my whole course of love; what drugs, what charms,

What conjuration, and what mighty magic,
(For such proceeding I am charg'd withal,)
I won his daughter with.
Bra.

A maiden never bold;
Of spirit so still and quiet, that her motion
Blush'd at herself; and she,-in spite of nature,
Of years, of country, credit, every thing,-
To fall in love with what she fear'd to look on?
It is a judgment maim'd, and most imperfect,
That will confess-perfection so could err
Against all rules of nature; and must be driven
To find out practices of cunning hell,

Why this should be. I therefore vouch again,
That with some mixtures powerful o'er the blood,
Or with some dram conjur'd to this effect,
He wrought upon her.

Duke.

|

To vouch this, is no proof; Without more certain and more overt test, Than these thin habits, and poor likelihoods Of modern seeming, do prefer against him. 1 Sen. But, Othello, speak ;Did you, by indirect and forced courses Subdue and poison this young maid's affections? Or came it by request, and such fair question As soul to soul affordeth? Oth. I do beseech you, Send for the lady to the Sagittary, And let her speak of me before her father: If you do find me foul in her report, The trust, the office, I do hold of you, Not only take away, but let your sentence Even fall upon my life.

Duke.

Fetch Desdemona hither. Oth. Ancient, conduct them; you best know the place.- [Exeunt Iago and Attendants.

And, till she come, as truly as to heaven
I do confess the vices of my blood,
So justly to your grave ears I'll present
How I did thrive in this fair lady's love,
And she in mine.

Duke. Say it, Othello.

Oth. Her father lov'd me; oft invited me; Still question'd me the story of my life, From year to year; the battles, sieges, fortunes, That I have pass'd.

I ran it through, even from my boyish days,
To the very moment that he bade me tell it.
Wherein I spoke of most disastrous chances,
Of moving accidents, by flood and field;
Ofhair-breadth scapes i'the imminent deadly breach;
Of being taken by the insolent foe,
And sold to slavery; of my redemption thence,
And portance in my travel's history:
Wherein of antres vast, and desarts idle,
Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads touch
heaven,

It was my hint to speak, such was the process;
And of the Cannibals that each other eat,
The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads
Do grow beneath their shoulders. These things to
hear,
Would Desdemona seriously incline:

But still the house affairs would draw her thence;
Which ever as she could with haste despatch,
She'd come again, and with a greedy ear
Devour up my discourse: Which I observing,
Took once a pliant hour; and found good means
To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart,

[blocks in formation]

My noble father,

I do perceive here a divided duty:
To you, I am bound for life, and education;
My life, and education, both do learn me
How to respect you; you are the lord of duty,
I am hitherto your daughter: But here's my hus-

1

band;

And so much duty as my mother shew'd
To you, preferring you before her father,
So much I challenge, that I may profess
Due to the Moor, my lord.

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

I here do give thee that with all my heart,
Which, but thou hast already, with all my heart
I would keep from thee.-For your sake, jewel,
I am glad at soul I have no other child;
For thy escape would teach me tyranny,
To hang clogs on them.-I have done, my lord.
Duke. Let me speak like yourself; and lay a sen-
tence,

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

When remedies are past, the griefs are ended,
By seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended.
To mourn a mischief that is past and gone,
Is the next way to draw new mischief on.
What cannot be preserv'd when fortune takes,
Patience her injury a mockery makes.
The robb'd, that smiles, steals something from the

thief;

He robs himself, that spends a bootless grief.
Bra. So let the Turk of Cyprus us beguile;
We lose it not, so long as we can smile.
He bears the sentence well, that nothing bears
But the free comfort, which from thence he hears :
But he bears both the sentence and the sorrow,
That, to pay grief, must of poor patience borrow.
These sentences, to sugar, or to gall,
Being strong on both sides, are equivocal:
But words are words; I never yet did hear
That the bruis'd heart was pierced through the ear.
I humbly beseech you, proceed to the affairs of state.
Duke, The Turk with a most mighty preparation

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

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

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

Duke.

If you please,

Be't at her father's.
Bra.

Oth. Nor I.
Des.

I'll not have it so.

Nor I; I would not there reside, To put my father in impatient thoughts, By being in his eye. Most gracions duke, To my unfolding lend a gracious ear; And let me find a charter in your voice, To assist my simpleness.

Duke. What would you, Desdemona?

Des. That I did love the Moor to live with him,
My downright violence and storm of fortunes
May trumpet to the world; my heart's subdued
Even to the very quality of my lord:
I saw Othello's visage in his mind;
And to his honours, and his valiant parts,
Did I my soul and fortunes consecrate.
So that, dear lords, if I be left behind,
A moth of peace, and he go to the war,
The rights, for which I love him, are bereft me,
And I a heavy interim shall support

By his dear absence: Let me go with him.
Oth. Your voices, lords :-'beseech you, let her
Have a free way.

Vouch with me, heaven; I therefore beg it not,
To please the palate of my appetite;
Nor to comply with heat, the young affects,
In my distinct and proper satisfaction;
But to be free and bounteous to her mind:
And heaven defend your good souls, that you think
I will your serious and great business scant,
For she is with me: No, when light-wing'd toys
Of feather'd Cupid seel with wanton duiness
My speculative and active instruments,

That my disports corrupt and taint my business,
Let housewives make a skillet of my helm,
And all indign and base adversities
Make head against my estimation!

Duke. Be it as you shall privately determine, Either for her stay, or going: the affair cries-baste, And speed must answer it; you must hence to-night Des. To-night, my lord?

Duke.

This night.

Oth.

With all my beart. Duke. At nine i'the morning here we'll meet again.

Othello, leave some officer behind,

And he shall our commission bring to you; With such things else of quality and respect, As doth import you.

Please your grace, my ancient,

Oth.

A man he is of honesty, and trust;
To his conveyance I assign my wife,

With what else needful your good grace shall think
To be sent after me.

Duke. Let it be so.Good night to every one.-And, noble signior, (To Brabantio.) If virtue no delighted beauty lack, Your son-in-law is far more fair than black.

[ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors]

1 Sen. Adieu, brave Moor! use Desdemona well. Bra. Look to her, Moor; have a quick eye to see; She has deceiv'd her father, and may thee.

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

Rod. Iago.

Iago. What say'st thou, noble heart?
Rod. What will I do, thinkest thou?
Iago. Why, go to bed, and sleep.
Rod. I will incontinently drown myself.
Iago. Well, if thou dost, I shall never love thee
after it. Why, thou silly gentleman!

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

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

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

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

Rod. Where shall we meet i'the morning?
Iago. At my lodging.

Rod. I'll be with thee betimes.

Iago. Go to; farewell. Do you hear, Roderigo?
Rod. What say you?

Iago. No more of drowning, do you hear.
Rod. I am changed. I'll sell all my land.
Iago. Go to; farewell: put money enough in
your purse.
[Exit Roderigo.
Thus do I ever make my fool my purse:
For I mine own gain'd knowledge should profane,
If I would time expend with such a snipe,
But for my sport and profit. I hate the Moor;
And it is thought abroad, that 'twixt my sheets
He has done my office: I know not if't be true;
But I, for mere suspicion in that kind,
Will do, as if for surety. He holds me well;
The better shall my purpose work on him.
Cassio's a proper man: Let me see now;
To get his place, and to plume up my will;
A double knavery,-How? how?-Let me see:—
After some time, to abuse Othello's ear,
That he is too familiar with his wife:-
He hath a person, and a smooth dispose,
To be suspected; fram'd to make women false.
The Moor is of a free and open nature,
That thinks men honest, that but seem to be so;
And will as tenderly be led by th' nose,
As asses are.

Iago. Virtue? a fig! 'tis in ourselves, that we are thus, or thus. Our bodies are our gardens; to the which, our wills are gardeners: so that if we will plant nettles, or sow lettuce; set hyssop, and weed up thyme; supply it with one gender of herbs, or distract it with many; either to have it steril with idleness, or manured with industry; why, the power and corrigible authority of this lies in our wills. If I have't;-it is engender'd:-Hell and night the balance of our lives had not one scale of reason Must bring this monstrous birth to the world's light. to poise another of sensuality, the blood and base[Exit. ness of our natures would conduct us to most preposterous conclusions: But we have reason to cool SCENE I.-A Sea-port Town in Cyprus. A Platform. our raging motions, our carnal stings, our unbitted lusts; whereof I take this, that you call-love, to be a sect, or scion.

ACT II.

Enter MONTANO and Two Gentlemen. Mon. What from the cape can you discern at sea? 1 Gent. Nothing at all: it is a high-wrought flood;

- Rod. It cannot be.

I cannot, 'twixt the heaven and the main,
Descry a sail.

Mon. Methinks the wind hath spoke aloud at
land;

A fuller blast ne'er shook our battlements :
If it hath ruffian'd so upon the sea,
What ribs of oak, when mountains melt on them,
Can hold the mortise? what shall we hear of this?

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

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

2 Gent. A segregation of the Turkish fleet:
For do but stand upon the foaming shore,
The chiding billow seems to pelt the clouds;
The wind-shak'd surge, with high and monstrous
main,
Seems to cast water on the burning bear,
And quench the guards of th' ever fixed pole :
I never did like molestation view
On the enchafed flood.
Mon.

If that the Turkish fleet
Be not inshelter'd and embay'd, they are drown'd;
It is impossible they bear it out.

Enter a Third Gentleman.

3 Gent. News, lords! our wars are done;
The desperate tempest hath so bang'd the Turks,
That their designment halts: A noble ship of Venice
Hath seen a grievous wreck and sufferance
On most part of their fleet.

Mon.
How is this true?
3 Gent. The ship is here put in,
A Veronese; Michael Cassio,

[blocks in formation]

Cas. What noise?

4 Gent. The town is empty; on the brow o'the sea Stand ranks of people, and they cry—a sail.

Cas. My hopes do shape him for the governor. 2 Gent. They do discharge their shot of courtesy; (Guns heard.)

Our friends, at least.
Cas.
I pray you, sir, go forth,
And give us truth who 'tis that is arriv'd.
2 Gent. I shall.

[Exit.

Mon. But, good lieutenant, is your general wiv'd? Cas. Most fortunately: he hath achiev'd a maid, That paragons description, and wild fame; One, that excels the quirks of blazoning pens, And in the essential vesture of creation, Does bear all excellency.-How now? who has put Re-enter Second Gentleman.

[in?

2 Gent. 'Tis one Iago, ancient to the general. Cas. He has had most favourable and happy speed:

Tempests themselves, high seas, and howling winds,
The gutter'd rocks, and congregated sands,—
Traitors ensteep'd to clog the guiltless keel,
As having sense of beauty, do omit
Their mortal natures, letting go safely by

The divine Desdemona.

captain,

Left in the conduct of the bold Iago;
Whose footing here anticipates our thoughts,
A se'nnight's speed.-Great Jove, Othello guard,
And swell his sail with thine own powerful breath;
That he may bless this bay with his tall ship,
Make love's quick pants in Desdemona's arms,
Give renew'd fire to our extincted spirits,
And bring all Cyprus comfort!—O, behold,
Enter DESDEMONA, EMILIA, IAGO, RODERIGO,
and Attendants.

The riches of the ship is come on shore!
Ye men of Cyprus, let her have your knees:-
Hail to thee, lady! and the grace of heaven,
Before, behind thee, and on every hand,
Enwheel thee round!

Des.

Cas. He is not yet arriv'd; nor know I aught But that he's well, and will be shortly here. Des. O, but I fear;-How lost you company? Cas. The great contention of the sea and skies Parted our fellowship: But, hark! a sail.

I thank you, valiant Cassio. What tidings can you tell me of my lord?

(Cry within, A sail, a sail! Then guns heard.) 2 Gent. They give their greeting to the citadel; This likewise is a friend.

Cas.

See for the news[Exit Gentlema. Good ancient, you are welcome ;-Welcome, tress:(To Emilia) Let it not gall your patience, good Iago, That I extend my manners; 'tis my breeding That gives me this bold shew of courtesy.

(Kissing her.) Iago. Sir, would she give you so much of her lips, As of her tongue she oft bestows on me, You'd have enough.

Des.

Alas, she has no speech.
Iago. In faith, too much;
I find it still, when I have list to sleep:
Marry, before your ladyship, I grant,
She puts her tongue a little in her heart,
And chides with thinking.

Emil.
You have little cause to say so.
Iago. Come on, come on; you are pictures out of
doors,

Bells in your parlours, wild cats in your kitchens, Saints in your injuries, devils being offended, Players in your housewifery, and housewives in your beds.

Des. O, fy, upon thee, slanderer!

Iago. Nay, it is true, or else I am a Tork;
You rise to play, and go to bed to work.
Emil. You shall not write my praise.
Iago.

No, let me not. Des. What would'st thou write of me, if that should'st praise me?

Iago. O, gentle lady, do not put me to't; For I am nothing, if not critical.

Des. Come on, assay:-There's one gone to the harbour?

Des. Worse and worse.

Emil. How, if fair and foolish?

Mon.

What is she?

Iago. She never yet was foolish that was fair?

Cas. She, that I spake of, our great captain's For even her folly help'd her to an heir.

Iago. Ay, madam.

Des. I am not merry; but I do beguile The thing I am by seeming otherwise.Come, how would'st thou praise me?

Iago. I am about it; but, indeed, my invention Comes from my pate, as birdlime does from frizs, It plucks out brains and all: But my muse labours, And thus she is deliver❜d.

If she be fair and wise,--fairness and wit,
The one's for use, the other useth it.

Des. Well prais'd! How if she be black and witty' Iago. If she be black, and thereto have a wit, She'll find a white that shall her blackness fit.

Des. These are old fond paradoxes, to make fools laugh i'the alebouse. What miserable praise bast thou for her that's foul and foolish? [ante,

Iago. There's none so foul, and foolish thereBut does foul pranks, which fair and wise ones de

Des. O heavy ignorance!-thou praisest the worst best. But what praise could'st thon bestow on a deserving woman indeed? one, that, in the authority of her merit, did justly put on the vesh of very malice itself?

Iago. She that was ever fair, and never proud; Had tongue at will, and yet was never load; Never lack'd gold, and yet went never gay; Fled from her wish, and yet said,—now I may; She, that, being anger'd, her revenge being nigh, Bade her wrong stay, and her displeasure fly, She, that in wisdom never was so frail,

To change the cod's head for the salmon's tail; She, that could think, and ne'er disclose her mind.

« ÎnapoiContinuați »