Shakespeare's First Folio Part 621

But words are words, I neuer yet did heare: That the bruized heart was pierc'd through the eares.

I humbly beseech you proceed to th' Affaires of State

Duke. The Turke with a most mighty Preparation makes for Cyprus: Oth.e.l.lo, the Fort.i.tude of the place is best knowne to you. And though we haue there a Subst.i.tute of most allowed sufficiencie; yet opinion, a more soueraigne Mistris of Effects, throwes a more safer voice on you: you must therefore be content to slubber the glosse of your new Fortunes, with this more stubborne, and boystrous expedition

Othe. The Tirant Custome, most Graue Senators, Hath made the flinty and Steele Coach of Warre My thrice-driuen bed of Downe. I do agnize A Naturall and prompt Alacratie, I finde in hardnesse: and do vndertake This present Warres against the Ottamites.

Most humbly therefore bending to your State, I craue fit disposition for my Wife, Due reference of Place, and Exhibition, With such Accomodation and besort As leuels with her breeding

Duke. Why at her Fathers?

Bra. I will not haue it so

Othe. Nor I

Des. Nor would I there recide, To put my Father in impatient thoughts By being in his eye. Most Gracious Duke, To my vnfolding, lend your prosperous eare, And let me finde a Charter in your voice T' a.s.sist my simplenesse

Duke. What would you Desdemona?

Des. That I loue the Moore, to liue with him, My downe-right violence, and storme of Fortunes, May trumpet to the world. My heart's subdu'd Euen to the very quality of my Lord; I saw Oth.e.l.lo's visage in his mind, And to his Honours and his valiant parts, Did I my soule and Fortunes consecrate.

So that (deere Lords) if I be left behind A Moth of Peace, and he go to the Warre, The Rites for why I loue him, are bereft me: And I a heauie interim shall support By his deere absence. Let me go with him

Othe. Let her haue your voice.

Vouch with me Heauen, I therefore beg it not To please the pallate of my Appet.i.te: Nor to comply with heat the yong affects In my defunct, and proper satisfaction.

But to be free, and bounteous to her minde: And Heauen defend your good soules, that you thinke I will your serious and great businesse scant When she is with me. No, when light wing'd Toyes Of feather'd Cupid, seele with wanton dulnesse My speculatiue, and offic'd Instrument: That my Disports corrupt, and taint my businesse: Let House-wiues make a Skillet of my Helme, And all indigne, and base aduersities, Make head against my Estimation

Duke. Be it as you shall priuately determine, Either for her stay, or going: th' Affaire cries hast: And speed must answer it

Sen. You must away to night

Othe. With all my heart

Duke. At nine i'th' morning, here wee'l meete againe.

Oth.e.l.lo, leaue some Officer behind And he shall our Commission bring to you: And such things else of qualitie and respect As doth import you

Othe. So please your Grace, my Ancient, A man he is of honesty and trust: To his conueyance I a.s.signe my wife, With what else needfull, your good Grace shall think To be sent after me

Duke. Let it be so: Good night to euery one. And n.o.ble Signior, If Vertue no delighted Beautie lacke, Your Son-in-law is farre more Faire then Blacke

Sen. Adieu braue Moore, vse Desdemona well

Bra. Looke to her (Moore) if thou hast eies to see: She ha's deceiu'd her Father, and may thee.

Enter.

Othe. My life vpon her faith. Honest Iago, My Desdemona must I leaue to thee: I prythee let thy wife attend on her, And bring them after in the best aduantage.

Come Desdemona, I haue but an houre Of Loue, of wordly matter, and direction To spend with thee. We must obey the time.

Enter.

Rod. Iago

Iago. What saist thou n.o.ble heart?

Rod. What will I do, think'st thou?

Iago. Why go to bed and sleepe

Rod. I will incontinently drowne my selfe

Iago. If thou do'st, I shall neuer loue thee after. Why thou silly Gentleman?

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

Iago. Oh villanous: I haue look'd vpon the world for foure times seuen yeares, and since I could distinguish betwixt a Benefit, and an Iniurie: I neuer found man that knew how to loue himselfe. Ere I would say, I would drowne my selfe for the loue of a Gynney Hen, I would change my Humanity with a Baboone

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

Iago. Vertue? A figge, 'tis in our selues that we are thus, or thus. Our Bodies are our Gardens, to the which, our Wills are Gardiners. So that if we will plant Nettels, or sowe Lettice: Set Hisope, and weede vp Time: Supplie it with one gender of Hearbes, or distract it with many: either to haue it sterrill with idlenesse, or manured with Industry, why the power, and Corrigeable authoritie of this lies in our Wills. If the braine of our liues had not one Scale of Reason, to poize another of Sensualitie, the blood, and basenesse of our Natures would conduct vs to most prepostrous Conclusions. But we haue Reason to coole our raging Motions, our carnall Stings, or vnbitted l.u.s.ts: whereof I take this, that you call Loue, to be a Sect, or Seyen

Rod. It cannot be

Iago. It is meerly a l.u.s.t of the blood, and a permission of the will. Come, be a man: drowne thy selfe? Drown Cats, and blind Puppies. I haue profest me thy Friend, and I confesse me knit to thy deseruing, with Cables of perdurable toughnesse. I could neuer better steed thee then now. Put Money in thy purse: follow thou the Warres, defeate thy fauour, with an vsurp'd Beard. I say put Money in thy purse. It cannot be long that Desdemona should continue her loue to the Moore. Put Money in thy purse: nor he his to her. It was a violent Commencement in her, and thou shalt see an answerable Sequestration, put but Money in thy purse. These Moores are changeable in their wils: fill thy purse with Money.

The Food that to him now is as lus.h.i.+ous as Locusts, shalbe to him shortly, as bitter as Coloquintida. She must change for youth: when she is sated with his body she will find the errors of her choice. Therefore, put Money in thy purse. If thou wilt needs d.a.m.ne thy selfe, do it a more delicate way then drowning. Make all the Money thou canst: If Sanctimonie, and a fraile vow, betwixt an erring Barbarian, and super-subtle Venetian be not too hard for my wits, and all the Tribe of h.e.l.l, thou shalt enioy her: therefore make Money: a pox of drowning thy selfe, it is cleane out of the way. Seeke thou rather to be hang'd in Compa.s.sing thy ioy, then to be drown'd, and go without her

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

Iago. Thou art sure of me: Go make Money: I haue told thee often, and I re-tell thee againe, and againe, I hate the Moore. My cause is hearted; thine hath no lesse reason. Let vs be coniunctiue in our reuenge, against him. If thou canst Cuckold him, thou dost thy selfe a pleasure, me a sport. There are many Euents in the Wombe of Time, which wilbe deliuered. Trauerse, go, prouide thy Money. We will haue more of this to morrow.

Adieu

Rod. Where shall we meete i'th' morning?

Iago. At my Lodging

Rod. Ile be with thee betimes

Iago. Go too, farewell. Do you heare Rodorigo?

Rod. Ile sell all my Land.

Enter.

Iago. Thus do I euer make my Foole, my purse: For I mine owne gain'd knowledge should prophane If I would time expend with such Snipe, But for my Sport, and Profit: I hate the Moore, And it is thought abroad, that 'twixt my sheets She ha's done my Office. I know not if't be true, But I, for meere suspition in that kinde, Will do, as if for Surety. He holds me well, The better shall my purpose worke on him: Ca.s.sio's a proper man: Let me see now, To get his Place, and to plume vp my will In double Knauery. How? How? Let's see.

After some time, to abuse Oth.e.l.lo's eares, 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 Moore is of a free, and open Nature, That thinkes men honest, that but seeme to be so, And will as tenderly be lead by'th' Nose As a.s.ses are: I hau't: it is engendred: h.e.l.l, and Night, Must bring this monstrous Birth, to the worlds light.

Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.

Enter Montano, and two Gentlemen.

Mon. What from the Cape, can you discerne at Sea?

1.Gent. Nothing at all, it is a high wrought Flood: I cannot 'twixt the Heauen, and the Maine, Descry a Saile

Mon. Me thinks, the wind hath spoke aloud at Land, A fuller blast ne're shooke our Battlements: If it hath ruffiand so vpon the Sea, What ribbes of Oake, when Mountaines melt on them, Can hold the Morties. What shall we heare of this?

2 A Segregation of the Turkish Fleet: For do but stand vpon the Foaming Sh.o.r.e, The chidden Billow seemes to pelt the Clowds, The winde-shak'd-Surge, with high & monstrous Maine Seemes to cast water on the burning Beare, And quench the Guards of th' euer-fixed Pole: I neuer did like mollestation view On the enchafed Flood

Men. If that the Turkish Fleete Be not enshelter'd, and embay'd, they are drown'd, It is impossible to beare it out.

Enter a Gentleman.

3 Newes Laddes: our warres are done: The desperate Tempest hath so bang'd the Turkes, That their designement halts. A n.o.ble s.h.i.+p of Venice, Hath seene a greeuous wracke and sufferance On most part of their Fleet

Mon. How? Is this true?