Oth. Come, fwear it; damn thy felf; left, being like

one

Of heav'n, the devils themselves should fear to seize thee.
Therefore be double-damn'd; fwear, thou art honest.
Def. Heav'n doth truly know it.
Oth. Heav'n truly knows,
That thou art falfe as hell.

Def. To whom, my lord?
With whom? how am I falfe?

Oth. Ah, Desdemona! away, away, away.
Def. Alas, the heavy day! why do you weep?
Am I the motive of thefe tears, my lord?
If, haply, you my father do fufpect

An inftrument of this your calling back,

Lay not your blame on me; if you have loft him,
Why, I have loft him too.

Oth. Had it pleas'd heav'n

To try me with affliction, had he rain'd

All kind of fores and fhames on my bare head,
Steep'd me in poverty to the very lips,
Giv'n to captivity me and my hopes;
I should have found in fome place of my foul
A drop of patience. But, alafs, to make me
A fixed figure for the hand of fcorn
To point his flow and moving finger at
Yet could I bear that too, well, very well.
But there, where I have garner'd up my heart,
Where either I muft live, or bear no life,
The fountain from the which my current runs,
Or elfe dries up; to be difcarded thence;
Or keep it as a ciftern, for foul toads

To knot and gender in: Turn thy complexion there, (27)
Patience

(27

-Turn thy Complexion there,

Patience, thou young and rofe-lıp'd Cherubin;

I here look grim as Hell.] The Poet makes an Apostrophe to Patience as a Goddess; and is fuppos'd to make Othello bid her turn her Complexion and Cherubin's Looks, because he looks as grim as Hell upon the Occafion. But I am perfuaded, the Text has been all along flightly corrupted, by miftaking / in

Patience, thou young and rofe-lip'd cherubin ;
Ay, there, look grim as hell.

Def. I hope, my noble lord esteems me honeft.
Oth. Oh, ay, as fummer flies are in the shambles,
That quicken ev'n with blowing. Oh thou weed!
Who art fo lovely fair, and fmell'ft fo fweet,
That the fenfe akes at thee

'Would, thou had'ft ne'er been born!

Def. Alas, what ignorant fin have I committed?
Oth. Was this fair paper, this moft goodly book,
Made to write whore upon ? what, what committed?
Committed?-oh, thou publick commoner!
I should make very forges of my cheeks,
That would to cynders burn up modefty,

Did but I fpeak thy deeds. What, what committed?
Heav'n ftops the nose at it, and the moon winks;
The bawdy wind, that kiffes all it meets,

Is hufh'd within the hollow mine of earth,
And will not hear't. What committed ?--Impudent
Strumpet!

Def. By heav'n, you do me wrong.
Oth. Are not you a ftrumpet?
Def. No, as I am a christian.
If to preserve this Veffel for my lord
From any other, foul, unlawful, Touch,
Be not to be a ftrumpet, I am none.

Oth. What, not a whore?

Def. No, as I fhall be faved.
Oth. Is't poffible?

Def. Oh, heav'n forgive us!
Oth. I cry you mercy, then.

I took you for that cunning whore of Venice,
That married with Othello

the laft Verfe for the Pronoun of the first Perfon: whereas, in our Author's days, it likewise stood for the Adverb of affirming. As I have reform'd the Text, a proper Contraft is reftor'd; and Patience is urg'd not only to turn her Complexion, to drop the rofy Looks of a Cherub, but to put on the grim Afpe& of a Fiend.

Enter

You, miftrefs,

Enter Emilia.

That have the office oppofite to St. Peter,

I

And keep the gate of hell; You! you! ay, you!
We have done our courfe, there's mony for your pains;
pray you, turn the key, and keep our counfel. [Exit.
Emil. Alas, what does this gentleman conceive?
How do you, madam? how do you, my good lady?
Def. Faith, half asleep.

Emil. Good madam, what's the matter with
Def. With whom?

Emil. Why, with my lord, madam?

Def. Who is thy lord?

Emil. He that is yours, fweet lady.

my

Def. I have none; do not talk to me, Emilia.
I cannot weep; nor anfwer have I none,
But what fhould go by water. Pray, to night
Lay on my bed my wedding fheets, remember;
And call thy husband hither.

Emil. Here's a change indeed!

Def. 'Tis meet I fhould be used fo, very meet: How have I been behav'd, that he might stick The small'ft opinion of my least misuse?

Enter Iago, and Æmilia.

lord?

[Exit.

Jago. What is your pleasure, Madam ? how is't with you?

Def. I cannot tell; thofe, that do teach your babe, Do it with gentle means, and eafie tasks;

He might have chid me for for, in good faith,
I am a child to chiding.

lago. What's the matter, lady?

Emil. Alas, Iago, my lord hath fo bewhor'd her, Thrown fuch defpight and heavy terms upon her, That true hearts cannot bear it.

Def. Am I that name, Iago?

Iago. What name, fair lady?

Def. Such, as, fhe faid, my lord did fay I was.
Emil. He call'd her whore; a beggar in his drink,

O 3

Could

Could not have laid fuch terms upon his callet.
Iago. Why did he fo?

Def. I do not know; I'm fure, I am none fuch.
Iago. Do not weep, do not weep; alas, the day!
Emil. Hath fhe forfook fo many noble matches?
Her father? and her country? and her friends?
To be call'd whore? would it not make one weep?
Def. It is my wretched fortune,

lago. Befhrew him for't! how comes this trick

him?

Def. Nay, heav'n doth know.

Emil. I will be hang'd, if fome eternal villain, Some bufie and infinuating rogue,

upon

Some cogging, cozening flave, to get fome office, Has not devis'd this flander: I'll be hang'd elfe. lago. Fie, there is no fuch man; it is impoffible. Def. If any fuch there be, heav'n pardon him! Emil. A halter pardon him, and hell gnaw his bones! Why should he call her whore? who keeps her company?

ག

What place? what time? what form? what likely

hood?

The Moor's abus'd by fome most villanous knave,
Some base notorious knave, fome fcurvy fellow.
Oh heav'n, that fuch companions thou'dft unfold,
And put in every honeft hand a whip,

To lafh the rafcal naked through the world,
Ev'n from the eaft to th' weft!

Jago. Speak within door.

Emil. Oh, fie upon ther! Some fuch 'fquire he was, That turn'd your wit the feamy fide without;

And made you to fufpect me with the Moor.

Jaga.. You are a fool; go to.

Def. Alas, Iago,

What fhall I do to win my lord again?

Good friend, go to him; by this light of heav'n,

I know not how I loft him. Here I kneel; [Kneeling.
If e'er my will did trefpafs 'gainst his love,
Or in difcourfe, or thought, or actual deed;
Or that mine eyes, mine ears, or any sense,

Delighted

Delighted them on any other form;
Or that I do not yet, and ever did,
And ever will, though he do fhake me off
To beggarly divorcement, love him dearly,

Comfort forfwear me! Unkindness may do much ;
And his unkindness may defeat my life,

But never taint my love. I can't fay, whore;
It does abhor me, now I fpeak the word;
To do the act, that might th' addition earn,
Not the world's mafs of vanity could make me.
Jago. I pray you, be content; 'tis but his humour ;
The bufinefs of the State do's him offence,

And he does chide with you,

Def. If 'twere no other,

Iago. It is but fo, I warrant.

[Trumpets.

Hark, how thefe inftruments fummon to fupper!
The meffenger of Venice stays the meat;

Go in, and weep not; all things fhall be well.

[Exeunt Desdemona and Emilia,

Enter Rodorigo, to Iago.

How now, Rodorigo?

Rod. I do not find, that thou deal'ft juftly with me.
Iago. What in the contrary?

Rod. Every day thou doft'ft me with fome device, lago; and rather, as it feems to me now, keep'ft from me all conveniency, than fuppliest me with the least advantage of hope. I will, indeed, no longer endure it. Nor am I yet perfwaded to put up in peace what already I have foolishly fuffer'd.

Jago. Will you hear me, Rodorigo?

Rod. Faith, I have heard too much; and your words and performances are no kin together.

lago. You charge me moft unjustly.

Rod. With nought but truth: I have wafted my felf out of my means. The jewels you have had from me, to deliver to Defdemona, would half have corrupted a Votarist. You have told me, fhe hath receiv'd them, and return'd me expectations and comforts of fudden refpect and acquittance; but I find none.

0 4

Iago.