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That would be howl'd out in the desert air,
Despised Old Age. Where hearing should not latch them.
I have liv'd long enough: my way of life Macd. What concern they?
Is fall'n into the sear, the yellow leaf : The general cause? or is it a fee-grief, And that which should accompany old age, Due to some single breast ?
As honor, love, obedience, troops of friends, Rosse. No mind that's honest
I must not look to have : but in their stead, But in it shares some woe; tho' the main part Curses, not loud, but deep, mouth-honor, breath, Pertains to
Which the poor heart would fain deuy, but Macd. If it be mine,
dare not. Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it. Rosse. Let not your ears despise my tongue
Diseases of the Mind incurable.
Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas'd; Which shall possess them with the heaviest Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow; That ever yet they heard.
Raze out the written troubles of the brain; Macd. Humph! I guess at it. [babes
And, with some sweet oblivious antidote, Rosse. Your castle is surpris’d; your wife and Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff Savagely slaughter'd; to relate the manner,
Which weighs upon the heart ? Were, on the quarry of these murder'd deer,
Reflections on Life. To add the death of you.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Mal. Merciful Heaven
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your To the last syllable of recorded time; brows;
[speak, And all our yesterdays have lighted fools Give sorrow words: the grief that does not The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief Whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it candle ! Macd. My children too?
[break. Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player, Rosse. Wife, children, servants, all that That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, could be found.
And then is heard no more: it is a tale,
Mal. Be comforted :
$ 30. OTHELLO. SHAKSPEARE. Macd. He has no children !-All my pretty ones?
Preferment. Did you say all? what, all? O hell-kite! all?
"Tis the curse of service; What, all my pretty chickens, and their dam, Preferment goes by letter and affection, At one fell swoop?
Not by the old gradation, where each second Mal. Dispute it like a man.
Stood heir to the first. Macd. I shall do so ;
In Dispraise of Honesty. But I must also feel it as a man:
We cannot all be masters, nor all masters I cannot but remember such things were, Cannot be truly follow'd. You shall mark That were most precious to me. Did Heaven Many a duteous and knee-crooking knave,
(duff, That, doting on his own obsequious bondage, And would not take their part? Sinful Mac. Wears out his time, much like his master's ass
, They were all struck for thee! Naught that I For nought but provender; and, when he is am,
old, cashier'd : Not for their own demerits, but for mine, Whip me such honest knaves. Others there are, Fell slaughter on their souls: Heaven rest them Who, trimm'd in forms and visages of duty, now!
Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves: Mal. Be this the whetstone of your sword; And throwing but shows of service on their let grief
lords, Convert to anger; blunt not the heart, enrage it. Do well thrive by them; and when they have Macd 0, I could play the woman with mine
lin'd their coats,
[Heaven, Do themselves homage : these fellows have And braggart with my tongue! But, gentle some soul, Cut short all interinissíon : front to front And such a one do I profess myself. Bring thou this fiend of Scotland, and myself; For, sir, Within my sword's length set him; if he 'scape, It is as sure as you are Roderigo, Heaven forgive him too!
Were I the Moor, I would not be lago : Mal. This tune goes manly.
In following him, I follow but myself ; Come, go we to the king; our pow'r is ready; Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty, Our lack is nothing but our leave; Macbeth But seeming so, for my peculiar end : Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above For when my outward action doth demonstrate Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer The native act and figure of my heart you may;
In compliment extern, 'tis not long after The night is long that never finds the day. But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve,
[Exeunt. For doves to peck at: I am not what I seem.
Love the sole Motive of Othello's marrying. And bade me, if I had a friend that lov'd her, For know, Iago,
I should but teach him how to tell my story, But that I love the gentle Desdemona, And that would woo her. Upon this hint I I would not my unhoused free condition
spake: Put into circumscription and confine, She lov'd me for the dangers I had pass'd; For the sea's worth.
And I lov'd her, that she did pity them. Othello's Relation of his Courtship to the Senate.
O my soul's joy! Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors,
If after ev'ry tempest come such calms, My very noble and approved good masters That I have ta’en away this old man's daughter, May the winds blow till ihey have waken'd
death, It is most true; true, 'I have married her;
And let the laboring bark climb hills of seas, The very head and front of my offending
Olympus high : and duck again as low Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my As hell's from heaven! If I were now to die,
speech, And little blest with the set phrase of peace ;
"Twere now to be most happy; for, I fear,
My soul hath her content so absolute,
A Lover's Exclamation.
Excellent wretch! perdition catch my soul, More than pertains to feats of broil and battle; But I do love thee! and when I love thee not, And therefore little shall I grace my cause,
Chaos is come again. In speaking for myself: Yet, by your gracious
Othello's first Suspicion. patience,
Think, my lord ! 'hy Heaven he echoes me, I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver, As if there were some monster in his thought Of my whole course of love ; what drugs, Too hideous to be shown.—Thou dost mean what charms,
something: What conjuration, and what mighty magic I heard thee say but now—thou likd'st not that(For such proceeding I am charg'd withal), When Cassio left my wife; what didst not like? I won his daughter with.
And when I told thee-he was of my counsel, Her father
In my whole course of wooing : thou cried'st Lov'd me; oft invited me; still question'd me ** Indeed !" The story of my life, from year to year; And didst contract and purse thy brow together, The batlles, sieges, fortunes, that I have pass’d. As if thou then hadst shut up in thy brain I ran it through, even from my boyish days, Some horrible conceit: if thou dost love me, To the very moment that he bade me tell it, Show me thy thought. Wherein í spake of most disastrous chances, Iago. My lord, you know I love you. Of moving accidents by food and field;
Oih. I think thou dost; Of hair-breadth 'scapes i' the imminent deadly And for I know thou'rt full of love and honesty, breach ;
And weigh’st thy words before thou giv'st them Of being taken by the insolent foe,
(more: And sold to slavery; of my redemption thence; Therefore, these stops of thine fright me the And portance in my travel's history.
For such things in a false, disloyal knave
Are tricks of custom; but in a man that's just, These things to hear They are close denotements working from the Would Desdemona seriously incline; That passion cannot rule.
[heart, But still the house affairs would draw her
Reputation. thence; Which ever as she could with haste dispatch, Is the immediate jewel of their souls :
Good name, in man and woman,dear my lord, She'd come again, and with a greedy ear
Who steals my purse steals trash ; 'tis something, Devour up my discourse: which, I observing, Took once a pliant hour; and found good means 'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to
nothing; To draw from her a prayer of earnest, heart,
thousands : That I would all my pilgrimage dilate, But he that filches from me my good name, Whereof by parcels she had something heard, Robs me of that which not enriches him, But not intentively: I did consent;
And makes me poor indeed. And often did beguile her of her tears, When I did speak of some distressful stroke, Othello's Soliloquy afler having been worked That my youth suffer'd. My story being done,
up to Jealousy by Iago. She gave me for my pains a world of sighs : This fellow's of exceeding honesty, She swore, in faith, 'twas strange, 'twas pass And knows all qualities, with a learned spirit, ing strange;
Of human dealings : If I prove her haggard, 'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful- Though that her jesses were iny dear heartShe wish'd she had not heard it; yet she wish'd strings, That Heaven had made her such a man :-she rd whistle her off, and let her down the wind thank'd me;
To prey at fortune. Haply, for I am black;
And have not those soft parts of conversation On horror's head horrors accumulate :
To be direct and honest, is not safe!
I thank you for this profit; and, from hence,
I'll love no friend, since love breeds such offence. Are, to the jealous, confirmation strong
Oth. Nay, stay :-thou shouldst be honest. As proofs of holy writ.
Iago. I should be wise: for honesty's a fool, The Tortures of Jealousy.
And loses that it works for.
Olh. By the world,
I think my wife be honest, and think she is not ; lago. Look where he comes! not poppy, I think that thou art just, and think thou art not: nor mandragora,
I'll have some proof. Her name, that was as Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world,
fresh Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep As Dian's visage, is now begrim'd and black Which thou ow'dst yesterday.
As mine own face. If there be cords, or knives, Oth. Ha! ha! false to me? to me? (that. Poison, or fire, or suffocating streams, lago. Why, how now, general ? no more of I'll not endure it! Would I were satisfied! Oih. Araunt! begone! thou hast set me on Othello's Story of the Handkerchief. the rack :
That handkerchief I swear, 'tis better to be much abus'd, Did an Egyptian to my mother give; Than but to know't a little.
She was a charmer, and could almost read Iago. How now, my lord ? [lust? | The thoughts of people; she told her, while Oth. What sense had I of her stolen hours of
she kept it, I saw it not, thought it not, it harm'd not me: 'Twould make her amiable, and subdue my faI slept the next night well, was free and merry; Entirely to her love ; but if she lost it, (ther I found not Cassio's kisses on her lips : Or made a gift of it, my father's eye (hunt He that is robb’d, not wanting what is stolen, Should hold her loathly, and his spirits should Let him not know it, and he's not robb'd at all. ). After new fancies. She, dying, gave it me; Iago. I am sorry to hear this.
And bid one, when my fate would have me wiv'd, oih. I had been happy, if the general camp, To give it her. I did so; and take heed of't, Pioneers and all, had tasted her sweet body, Make it a darling, like your precious eye ; So I had nothing known: O now, for ever, To lose't or give 't away, where such perdition, Farewell the tranquil mind! Farewell content! As nothing else could match. Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars, - There's magic in the web of it: That make ambition virtue! O farewell! A sibyl, that had number'd in the world Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill The sun to make two hundred compasses, trump,
"In her prophetic fury sew'd the work : The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife, The worms were hallow'd that did breed the The royal banner; and all quality,
silk; Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war! And it was dyed in mummy, which the skilful And, O you mortal engines, whose rude throats Conserv'd of maidens' hearts. Th'immortal Jove's dread clamors counterfeit, A Lover's Computation of Time. Farewell! Othello's occupation's gone! What! keep a week away? seven days and Iago. Is't possible, my lord ?
(hours, Oih. Villain, be sure thou prove my love a Eight-score eight hours ? and lovers absent whore ;,
More tedious than the dial eight-score times? Be sure of it; give me the ocular proof; O weary reckoning!
(Catching hold on him. Othello's Speech, after having received the ManOr by the worth of mine eternal soul,
date when confirmed in his Suspicions. Thou hadst betier have been born a dog, Ay, you did wish that I would make her turn: Than answer my wak'd wrath.
Sir, she can turn, and turn, and yet go on, Jago. Is it come to this? [prove it, and turn again; and she can weep, Sir, weep:
oih. Make me to see it; or, at the least, so And she's obedient, as you say-obedient That the probation bear no hinge, nor loop, Very obedient-Proceed you in your tears. To hang a doubt on: or, woe upon thy life! Concerning this, Sirwell-painted passion! Iago. My noble lord
I am commanded home:--get you away; Oih. If ihou dost slander her, and torture I'll send for you anon.--Sir, I obey the mandate, me,
And will return to Venice-hence, avaunt ! Never pray more: abandon all remorse :
Cassio shall have my place. And—Sir, to- And will not hear it: what committed !
Des. By Heaven, you do me wrong!
Exit Othello. Oth. Are you not a strumpet ?
Be not to be a strumpet, I am none.
Oth. What, not a whore? Des. Your wife, my lord ; your true and Des. No, as I shall be saved. loyal wife.
Oth. Is it possible?
I took you for that cunning whore of Venice,
O good Iago,
Good friend, go to him ; for, by this light of Des. To whom, my lord? With whom?
heaven, How am I false?
I know not how I lost him. Here I kneel Oth. O, Desdemona, away! away! away! Des. Alas, the heavy day! who do you weep? Ife'er my will did trespass 'gainst his love,
[Kneeling. Am I the occasion of these tears, my lord?
Either in discourse of thought, or actual deed: If, haply, you my father do suspect
Or that mine eyes, mine ears, or any sense, An instrument of this your calling back, [him, Delighted them in any other form; Lay not your blame on me; if you have lost Or that I do not yet, and ever did, Why, I have lost him too.
And ever will-though he do shake me off Otk. Had it pleased Heaven
To beggarly divorcement-love him dearly, To try me with affliction; had he rain'd
Comfort forswear me! Unkindness may do All kinds of sores, and shames, on my bare head;
much, Steep'd me in poverty to the very lips; And his unkindness may
life, Given to captivity me and my utmost hopes;
But never taint my love.
A Bed-chamber : Desdemona is discovered A fixed figure, for the time of scorn
asleep in her Bed. To point his slow, unmoving figure at
Enter Othello, with a Light and Sword. O!'O!
Oth. It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul Yet could I bear that too; well, very well:
Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars ! Bat there, where I have garner'd up my heart; It is the cause. Yet I'll not shed her blood, Where either I must live, or bear no life:
Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow, The fountain from the which my current runs, And smooth as monumental alabaster. Or else dries up; to be discarded thence !
(Lays down the Sword. Or keep it as a cistern, for foul toads
Yet she must die, else she'll betray more men, To knot and gender in! Turn thy complexion Put out the light, and then put out the light! there!
If I quench thee, thou faming minister,
Should I repent me; but once put out thy light, Des. I hope, my noble lord esteems me ho- Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature, Oth. O, ay; as summer-flies are in the I know not where is that Promethean heat shambles,
That can thy light relume. That quicken even with blowing. Othou weed,
[Sels down the Taper, Who art so lovely fair, and smell'st so sweet,
When I have pluck'd thy rose, That the sense aches at thee, 'would thou hadst I cannot give it vital growth again ; ne'er been born!
(mitted ? It needs must wither: I'll smell it on the trec. Des. Alas! what ignorant sin have I com
[Kissing her. Orh. Was this fair paper, this most goodly o balmy breath, that dost almost persuade book,
Justice herself to break her sword! One more, Made to write whore upon! what, committed! Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee, Committed! O thou public commoner!
And love thee after: one more, and this the last; I should make very forges of my cheeks
So sweet was ne'er so fatal. I must weep, That would to cinders burn up modesty, (ted! But they are cruel tears; this sorrow's heavenly; Did I but speak thy deeds.---What, commit- It strikes where it doth love. Heaven stops the nose at it, and the moon Othello's Confusion ofter having murdered his winks :
Wife. The bawdy wind, that kisses all it meets, Yes 'tis Æmilia :-by and by-she's dead, As hush'd within the hollow mine of earth, 'Tis like, she comes to speak of Cassio's death: The noise was high. Ha ! no more moving? | $31. THE LIFE AND DEATH OF KING Still as the grare. Shall she come in? wer't RICHARD II.
SHAKS PBARE. good?
The purest treasure mortal times afford, My wife! my wife!
what wife? I have no wife. Men are but gilded loam, or painted clay. O insupportable! O heavy hour! Methinks it should be now a huge eclipse
Cowardice. Of sun and moon; and that the affrighted globe
That which in mean men we entitle patience, Should yawn at alteration.
Is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts.
Banishment; Consolation under it.
All places that the eye of Heaven visits, If Heaven would make me such another world, Are to a wise man ports and happy havens : Of one entire and prefect chrysolite,
Teach thy necessity to reason thus;
There is no virtue like necessity.
Think not the king did banish thee;
But thou the king: woe doth the heavier sit A better never did itself sustain
Where it perceives it is but faintly borne. Upon a soldier's thigh : I've seen the day,
Go, say, I sent thee forth to purchase honor, That, with this little arm, and this good sword, And not the king exil'd thee :-Or suppose, I have made my way through more impedi; And thou art flying to a fresher clime.
inents Than twenty times your stop.-But, О vain Look, what thy soul holds dear, imagine it Who can control his fate? it is not so now.
To lie that way thou go'st, not whence thou Be not afraid, though you do see me weapon 'd. Suppose the singing-birds, musicians; (com'st: Here is my journey's end, here is my butt,
The grass whereon thou tread'st, the presence And very sea-mark of my utmost sail.
strew'd ; Do you go back dismay'd ? 'tis a lost fear;
The flow'rs, fair ladies; and thy steps, no more Man but a rush against Othello's breast,
Than a delightful measure or a dance: And he retires : where should Othello go?
For gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite Now-how dost thou look now? O ill starrid The man that mocks at it, and sets it light. wench!
Thoughts ineffectual to moderate Affliction, Pale as thy smock! when we shall meet at 0, who can hold a fire in his hand, compt,
(ven, By thinking on the frosty Caucasus ?
[girl? Or wallow naked in December snow,
Than when it bites, but lanceth not the sore. Dead ? 0! 0! O!
Ourself, and Bushy, Bagot here, and Green, Soft you; a word or two before you go. Observ'd his courtship to the common people: I have done the state some service, and they How he did seem to dive into their hearts know it;
With humble and familiar courtesy; No more of that.— I pray you, in your letters, What reverence he did throw away on slaves; When you shall these unlucky deeds relate,
Wooing poor craftsmen, with the craft of Speak of me as I am: nothing extenuate,
smiles, Nor set down aught in malice : then must you and patient under-bearing of his fortune, speak
As 'ıwere to banish their affects with bim. Of one that lov'd not wisely, but too well:
Off goes his bonnet to an oyster wench; Of one not easily jealous, but, being wrought, A brace of draymen bid—God speed him well, Perplex'd in the extreme; of one whose hand, And had the tribute of his supple knee : Like the base Judean, threw a pearl away With—"Thanks, any countrymen, my loving Richer than all his tribe ; of one whose sub
friends ;" dued eyes,
As were our England in reversion his, Albeit unused to the melting inood,
And he our subjects' next degree in hope. Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees Their medicinal gum. Set you down this:
England. And say, besides,
that in Aleppo once, This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle, Where a malignant and a turban'd Túrk This earth of majesty, this seal of Mars, Beat a Venetian, and traduc'd the state,
This other Eden, demi-paradise ;