Not only take away, but let your Sentence

Even fall upon my Life.

Duke. Fetch Desdemona hither.

Oth. Ancient, conduct them, you beft know the Place.

And 'till the come, as truly as to Heav'n
I do confefs the Vices of my Blood,
So juftly to your grave Ears, I'll prefent
How I did thrive in this fair Lady's Love,
And fhe in mine,

Duke. Say it, Othello.`

[Exit Jago❤

Oth. Her Father lov'd me, oft invited me;
Still queftion'd me the Story or my Life,
From Year to Year; the Battels, Sieges, Fortunes,
That I have paft.

I ran it through, even from my Boyish Days,
To th' very Moment that he bad me tell it:
Wherein I spoke of most disastrous Chanees,
Of moving Accidents by Flood and Field;
Of hair-breadth scapes i'th' imminent deadly Breach;
Of being taken by the infolent Foe,

And fold to Slavery; of my Redemption thence,
And Portance in my Travels Hiftory;

Wherein of Antars vafte, and Defarts idle,

(ven

Rough Quarries, Rocks and Hills, whofe Head touch Hea

It was my Hint to fpeak, fuch was my Procefs;

And of the Canibals that each other eat,

The Anthropophagi; and Men whofe Heads

Did grow beneath their Shoulders. These to hear,
Would Desdemona feriously incline;

But ftill the Houfe Affairs would draw her hence,
Which ever as fhe could with hafte dispatch,
She'd come again, and with a greedy Ear
Devour up my Difcourfe: Which I obferving,
Took once a pliant Hour, and found good means
To draw from her a Prayer of earnest Heart,
That I would all my Pilgrimage dilate,
Whereof by Parcels the had fomething heard,
But not diftin&tively: I did confent,
And often did beguile her of her Tears,
When I did fpeak of fome diftrefsful Stroke,

That

That my Youth fuffer'd: My ftory being done,
She gave me for my Pains a world of Kiffes;

She wore in faith, 'twas ftrange, 'twas paffing ftrange,
'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful.

She wifh'd he had not heard it,

yet the wifh'd

That Heav'n had made her fuch a Man fhe thank'd me,

And bad me, If I had a Friend that lov'd her,

I should but teach him how to tell my Story,
And that would woo her. Upon this hint I fpake,
She lov'd me for the Dangers I have paft,
And I lov'd her, that he did pity them.
This only is the witchcraft I have us'd.
Here comes the Lady, let her witnefs it.

Enter Desdemona, Jago, and Attendants.

Duke. I think this Tale would win my Daughter too. Good Brabantio, take up this mangled matter at the best Men do their broken Weapons rather ufe,

Than their bare Hands.

Bra. I pray you hear her speak;

If the confefs that he was half the Wooer,
Destruction on my Head, if my bad blame

Light on the Man. Come hither, gentle Mistress,
Do you perceive in all this noble Company,
Where moft you owe Obedience?

Def. 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 Husband,
And fo much Duty as my Mother fhew'd
To you, preferring you before her Father;
So much I challnege, 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 haft already, with all my Heart
I would keep from thee. For your fake, 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 fpeak like your felf; and lay a Sentence,
Which, like a grife, or ftep, may help thefe Lovers.
When Remedies are paft, the Griefs are ended
By feeing the worft, 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 preferv'd when Fortune takes,
Patience her Injury a mockery makes.

The robb'd that fmiles, fteals fomething from the Thief,
He robs himself that spends a bootlefs Grief.

Bra. So let the Turk of Cyprus us beguile,

We lofe it not fo long as we can fmile;
He bears the Sentence well, that nothing bears,
But the free Comfort which from thence he hears.
But he hears both the Sentence, and the Sorrow,
That to pay Grief, muft of poor Patience borrow.
These Sentences to Sugar, or to Gall,

Being Strong on both fides, are equivocal.
But words are words; I never yet did hear,
That the bruiz'd Heart was pierced through the Ear.
I humbly beseech you proceed to th'affairs of State..

Duke. The Turk, with a moft mighty preparation, makes for Cyprus: Othello, the Fortitude of the place is best known to you. And though we have there a Subftitute of moft allowed fufficiency; yet Opinion, a more Sovereign Miftrefs of Effects, throws a more fafe Voice on you; you must therefore be content to flubber the grofs of your new Fortunes, with this more ftubborn, and boisterous Expedition. Oth. The Tyrant Custom, moft grave Senators, Hath made the flinty and fteel Coach of War My thrice-driven bed of Down. I do agnize A natural and prompt Alacrity,

I find in hardnefs; and do undertake
This prefent War against the Ottomites.
Moft humbly therefore bending to your State,
I crave fit Difpofition for my Wife,
Due Reverence of Place and exhibition,
With fuch accommodation and befort,
VOL. V.

Kk

As

As levels with her breeding.
Duke. Why, at her Father's.
Bra. I will not have it fo.
Oth. Nor I.

Def. Nor would I there refide,

To put my Father in impatient Thoughts
By being in his Eye. Moft gracious Duke,
To my unfolding lend your profperous Ear,
And let me find a Character in your Voice
T'affift my fimpleness.

Duke. What would you, Desdemona ?

Def. That I did love the Moor to live with him, My down-right Violence, and ftorm of Fortunes, May trumpet to the World. My Heart's fubdu'd Even to the very Quality of my Lord;

I faw Othello's Vifage in his Mind,

And to his Honours and his valiant Parts,
Did I my Soul and Fortunes confecrate..
So that, dear Lords, if I be left behind
A Moth of Peace, and he go to the War,
The Rites for why I love him are bereft me :
And I a heavy interim fhall fupport

By his dear Abfence. Let me go with him.

Oth. Your Voices, Lords; befeech you, let her Will

Have a free way.

Vouch with me Heav'n, I therefore beg it not

To please the Palate of my Appetite;

Nor to comply with Heat the young affects
In my defunct, and proper Satisfaction;
But to be free, and bounteous to her Mind.

'And Heav'n defend your good Soul, that you think
I will your ferious and great Bufinefs fcant

When he is with me---No, when light-wing'd Toys
Of Feather'd Cupid, feel with wanton dulness
My fpeculative and offic'd Inftrument,

That my Difports corrupt and taint my Bufinefs;
Let Housewives make a Skillet of my Helm,
And all indign and base Adversities,

Make head against my Eftimation.

Duke. Be it as you fhall privately determine, Either for her ftay or going; th'Affair cries hafte;

And

And fpeed muft anfwer it.

Sen. You muft away to Night.

Oth. With all my Heart.

Duke. At nine i'th' Morning here we'll meet again.
Othello, leave fome Officer behind,

And he fhall our Commiffion bring to you;
And fuch things elfe of quality and refpe&

As doth import to you.

Oth. So please your Grace, my Ancient ; A Man he is of honesty and truft,

To his Conveyance I affign my Wife,

With what elfe needful your good Grace fhall think
To be fent after me.

Duke. Let it be fo;

Good Night to every one. And Noble Signior,
If Virtué no delighted Beauty lack,

Your Son-in-law is far more fair than black.

Sen. Adieu, brave Moor, ufe Desdemona well.

Bra. Look to her, Moor, if thou haft Eyes to fee;

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

Oth. My Life upon her faith. Honeft Jago,
My Defdemona muft I leave to thee;
I prethee let thy Wife attend on her,
And bring them after in their best Advantage.
Come, Desdemona, I have but an Hour
Of Love, of worldly matter, and direction
To fpeak with thee. We must obey the time.

[Exit.

[Exit.

Rod. Jago.

Jago. What fayeft thou, noble Heart ?

Rod. What will I do, thinkeft thou?

Fago. Why, go to bed and fleep.

Rod. I will incontinently drown my felf.

Jago. If thou doft, I fhall never love thee after. Why, thou filly Gentleman !

Rod. It is fillinefs to live, when to live is a torment; and then have we a prefcription to dye, when Death is our Phyfician.

Fago. Oh villanous ! I have look'd upon the World for four times feven Years, and fince I could diftinguish betwixt a Benefit and an Injury, I never found Man that knew how to love himself. E'er I would fay, I would drown

Kk 2

my