'Till now, some nine moons wasted, they have us'd Their dearest action in the tented field;

And little of this great world can I speak,

More than pertains to feats of broils and battel';
And therefore little fhall I grace my cause,

In fpeaking for my self.

Yet, by your patience,
I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver,

Of my whole course of love; what drugs, what charms,
What conjuration, and what mighty magick,

(For fuch proceeding I am charg'd withal,)

I won his daughter with.

Bra. A maiden, never bold;

Of spirit so still and quiet, that her motion
Blush'd at it self; and she, in spight of nature,
Of years, of country, credit, every thing,
To fall in love with what fhe fear'd to look on ----
It is a judgment maim'd, and most imperfect,
That will confefs perfection fo could err
Against all rules of nature, and must be driven
To find out practices of cunning hell,

Why this should be. I therefore vouch again,
That with some mixtures powerful o'er the blood,
Or with fome dram, conjur'd to this effect,
He wrought upon her.

Duke. To vouch this, is no proof,

Without more certain and more overt test,
Than these thin habits and poor likelyhoods
Of modern seeming do prefer against him.
1 Sen. But, Othello, speak,

Did you by indirect and forced courfes
Subdue and poison this young maid's affections?

Or came it by request, and such fair question
As foul to foul affordeth?

VOL. VI.

Qqq

e more wider and more over teft.

Oth.

.

Oth. I beseech you,

Send for the lady to the Sagittary,

And let her speak of me before her father; do find me foul in her report,

If you

The truft, the office, I do hold of you,

Not only take away, but let your fentence
Even fall upon my life.

Duke. Fetch Desdemona hither.

Oth. Ancient, conduct them, you best know the place.

And 'till she come, as truly as to heav'n

I do confefs the vices of my blood,
So justly to your grave ears I'll present
How I did thrive in this fair lady's love,
And fhe in mine.

Duke. Say it, Othello.

Oth. Her father lov'd me, oft invited me;
Still question'd me the story of my life,
From year to year; the battels, fieges, fortunes,
That I have past.

I ran it through, ev'n from my boyish days,

To th' very moment that he bad me tell it:
Wherein I spoke of most disastrous chances,

Of moving accidents by flood and field;

[Exit Jago.

Of hair-breadth scapes i'th' imminent deadly breach; yaab ed¦ Of being taken by the infolent foe,

And fold to flavery; of my redemption thence,

And with it all my travel's hiftory: ‡

f

Wherein of antrées vast, and defarts wild,

Rough quarries, rocks and hills, whose heads touch heav'n,

This line is reftored from the old edition. It is in the reft And portance in my travels hiftory. Rymer in his criticifm on this play has chang'd it to Portents, inflead of Portance. Antrées. Fr. Grottoes.

f Defarts idle, in the former editions; doubtless a corruption from wilde.

It

It was my hint to speak. * All these to hear,
Would Desdemona feriously incline;

But still the house-affairs would draw her thence,
Which ever as she could with haste dispatch,
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 fhe had fomething heard,
But not distinctively: I did confent,
And often did beguile her of her tears,
When I did speak of some distressful stroke
That my youth suffer'd. My ftory being done,
She gave me for my pains a world of † fighs:

1111

She swore in faith, 'twas ftrange, 'twas paffing strange,
'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful
She wish'd she had not heard it,
yet the wifh'd
That heav'n had made her fuch a man -----
fhe thank'd me,

1904

And bad me, if I had a friend that lov'd her,
I should but teach him how to tell my ftory,
And that would woo her. On this hint I spake,
She lov'd me for the dangers I had past,
And I lov❜d her, that she did pity them:
This only is the witchcraft I have us'd.
Here comes the lady, let her witness it.

* It was my hint to speak; fuch was the process;
And of the Canibals that each other eat,
The Anthropophagi; and men whose heads

Do grow beneath their fhoulders. These to hear,
Would Desdemona 3c.

A

11

It was kiffes in the later editions. But this is evidenly the true reading: the lady bad been forward indeed, to give him a world of kiffes upon the bare recital of bis ftory, nor does it agree with the following lines.

SCENE

Enter Defdemona, Jago, and attendants.

Duke. I think this tale would win my daughter too ---ins

Good Brabantio,

Take up this mangled matter at the best.

Men do their broken weapons rather use,
Than their bare hands.

Bra. I pray you hear her speak;

If the confefs that she 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 you most owe obedience?

Def. Noble father,

I do perceive here a divided duty;

To you I'm bound for life and education:

My life and education both do learn me

How to respect you. You're the lord of duty, a

I'm hitherto your daughter. But here's my husband, och gant And fo much duty as my mother fhew'd

To you, preferring you before her father;

So much I challenge, 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 my heart
I would keep from thee. For your fake, jewel,
I'm glad at foul I have no other child,

ཅང་

Mi

For

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 fentence, Which, like a grife, or step, may help thefe lovers

Into your favour

When remedies are past, the griefs are ended

By seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended. isol
To mourn a mischief that is past and gone, and tryds ob asM
Is the next way to draw new mischief on.
What cannot be preferv'd when fortune takes,
Patience her injury a mockery makes.

f

The robb'd that fmiles, fteals fomething from the thief; also

He robs himself, that spends a bootlefs grief.

Bra. So let the Turk of Cyprus us beguile,
We lose it not fo long as we can smile;
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 forrow,
That to pay grief, must of poor patience borrow.
These sentences to fugar, 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,

4

A

I

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 substitute of must allowed sufficiency; yet opinion, a more fovereign miftrefs of effects, throws a more safe voice on you; you must therefore be content to flubber, the g glofs of your new fortunes, with this more ftubborn and boifterous expedition,

Oth. The tyrant custom, moft grave senators, Hath made the flinty and steel couch of war 1

h

My

B grofs.

b coach.