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Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages;
Golden lads and girls all must
As chimney sweepers, come to dust.

Fear no more the frown o' the great,
Thou are past the tyrant's stroke,
Care no more to clothe and eat ;

To thee the reed is as the oak:
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this, and come to dust.

Fear no more the lightning flash,

Nor the all-dreaded thunder stone:
Fear not slander, censure rash;

Thou hast finish'd joy and moan :
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee, and come to dust.

No exorciser harm thee!
Nor no witchcraft charm thee!
Ghost unlaid forbear thee!
Nothing ill come near thee!
Quiet consummation have ;
And renowned be thy grave!

ACT V.

A Routed Army.

No blame be to you, sir; for all was lost, But that the heavens fought: the king himself Of his wings destitute, the army broken, And but the backs of Britons seen, all flying

Through a straight lane; the enemy, full-hearted,
Lolling the tongue with slaughtering, having work
More plentiful than tools to do 't, struck down
Some mortally, some slightly touch'd, some falling
Merely through fear; that the straight pass was damm'd
With dead men, hurt behind, and cowards living
To die with lengthen'd shame.

-000

OTHELLO.

Othello, a valiant Moor, has won the affections of Desdemona, the daughter of Brabantio, a senator of Venice, and married her, unknown to her father. On hearing of the marriage, Brabantio is greatly irritated, and summons Othello before the Duke and Senators, where the Moor justifies his conduct, and is sent to Cyprus to command the Venetian forces against the Turks, who have despatched a fleet against Cyprus. Othello arrives at Cyprus, where Desdemona, by previous arrangement, follows him. Here lago, who is a villain of the deepest dye, plots with Roderigo, a foolish Venetian, against Othello and his lieutenant Cassio. In the meantime, Othello, incited to the act by Iago, murders Desdemona, and stabs himself, falling dead by her side. Iago, who completes his career of crime by stabbing his wife Emilia, is condemned to the torture, as a punishment for his wicked actions. Of this tragedy, Dr. Johnson remarks, "The fiery openness of Othello; magnanimous, artless, and credulous; boundless in his confidence, ardent in his affections, inflexible in his resolution, and obdurate in his revenge; the soft simplicity of Desdemona, confident of merit, and conscious of innocence; the cool malignity of Iago, silent in his resentment, subtle in his designs, and studious at once of his interest and his vengeance, are such proofs of Shakspere's skill in human nature, as I suppose it is vain to seek in any modern writer."

Аст І.

lago's Dispraise of Honesty.

We cannot all be masters, nor all masters

Cannot be truly followed.

You shall mark

Many a duteous and knee-crooking knave,

That, doting on his own obsequious bondage,
Wears out his time, much like his master's ass,
For naught but provender; and when he's old, cashier'd:
Whip me such honest knaves, Others there are
Who, trimm'd in forms and visages of duty,
Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves,
And, throwing but shows of service on their lords,
Do well thrive by them, and, when they have lined
their coats,

Do themselves homage: these fellows have some soul,
And such a one do I profess myself.

For, sir,

It is as sure as you are Roderigo,

Were I the Moor, I would not be Tago:

In following him, I follow but myself;
Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty,
But seeming so, for my peculiar end:
For when my outward action doth demonstrate
The native act and figure of my heart
In compliment extern,* 'tis not long after
But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve
For daws to peck at: I am not what I am.

Love the sole inducement for Othello to marry

For know, Iago,

But that I love the gentle Desdemona,
I would not my unhoused free condition
* In merely external civility.

Put into circumscription and confine

For the sea's worth.

Othello's Relation to the Senate of his wooing Desdemona.

Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors,
My very noble and approved 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 used
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 charged withal)

won his daughter with.

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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;

Of hair-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 deserts 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,
That I would all my pilgrimage dilate,
Whereof by parcels she had something heard,
But not intentively :‡ I did consent,
And often did beguile her of her tears,
When I did speak of some distressful stroke
That my youth suffer'd. My story being done,
She gave me for my pains a world of sighs:

She swore, in faith, 'twas strange, 'twas passing

strange;

'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful :

She wish'd she had not heard it: yet she wish'd

That heaven had made her such a man: she thank'd

me;

And bade me, if I had a friend that lov'd her,

* Behaviour.

† Idle is used to signify barren.

↑ Intention and attention were once synonymous. Attentively.

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