It is as sure as you are Roderigo,
Were I the Moor, I would not be lago
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, OTHELLO'S SOLE MOTIVE FOR MARRYING
For know, lago,

But that I love the gentle Desdemona,

I would not my unhoused† free condition

Put into circumscription and confine

For the sea's worth.

OTHELLO'S DESCRIPTION ΤΟ THE SENATE OF HIS

WINNING THE AFFECTIONS OF DESDEMONA.

Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors,
My very noble and approv'd 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 hath seven years' pith.
Till now some nine moons wasted, they have us❜d
Their dearest actiont 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 pa tience,

I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver

Of my whole course of love; what drugs, what charms,

What conjurations, and what mighty magic, (For such proceeding I am charg'd withal)

* Outward show of civility.

+ Best exertion.

† Unsettled.

/ won his daughter with.

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 made 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⚫

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 parcelst 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,

I should but teach him how to tell my story,

*My behaviour.

+ Parts.

Intention and attention were once synonymous.

And that would woo her. Upon this hint, I spake:
She lov❜d me for the dangers I had pass'd;
And I lov'd her, that she did pity them.

ACT II.

PERFECT CONTENT.

O my soul's joy!

If after every tempest come such calms,

May the winds blow till they have waken'd death!
And let the labouring bark climb hills of seas,
Olympus-high; and duck again as low

As hell's from heaven! If it were now to die,
"Twere now to be most happy; for, I fear,
My soul hath her content so absolute,
That not another comfort like to this
Suceeds in unknown fate.

ACT III.

A LOVER'S EXCLAMATION.

Farewell, my Desdemona. I will come to thee

straight.

*

[Exit DESDEMona.

Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul,
But I do love thee! and when I love thee not,
Chaos is come again.

Oth. What dost thou think?

Iago.

Oth.

OTHELLO'S FIRST SUSPICION.

Think, my lord?

Think, my lord

By heaven, he echoes me,

As if there were some monster in his thought

Too hideous to be shown.-Thou dost mean some

thing:

I heard thee say but now-Thou lik❜dst not that,
When Cassio left my wife; What did'st not like?
And, when I told thee-he was of my counsel

In my whole course of wooing, thou cry'dst, Indeed?
And didst contract and purse thy brow together,
As if thou then had'st shut up in thy brain.

Some horrible conceit: If thou dost love me,
Show me thy thought.

Iago. My lord, you know I love you.

Oth. I think, thou dost; And, for I know thou art full of love and honesty, And weigh'st thy words before thou giv'st them breath,

Therefore these stops of thine fright me the more:
For such things, in a false disloyal knave,

Are tricks of custom; but in a man that's just,
They are close denotements, working from the heart,
That passion cannot rule.

REPUTATION.

Good name, in man and woman, dear my lord, Is the immediate jewel of their souls:

Who steals my purse, steals trash; 'tis something, nothing;

'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands; But he, that filches from me my good name,

Robs me of that, which not enriches him,

And makes me poor indeed.

OTHELLO'S JEALOUSY GAINING GROUND.

This fellow's of exceeding honesty,

And knows all qualities with a learned spirit,
Of human dealings: If I do prove her haggard,*
Though that her jessest were my dear heart-strings,
I'd whistle her off, and let down the wind,
To pray at fortune. Haply, for I am black;
And have not those soft parts of conversation,
That chambererst have:-Or, for I am declin'd
Into the vale of years;-yet that's not much;--
She's gone; I am abus'd, and my relief

Must be to loath her. O curse of marriage,
That we can call these delicate creatures ours,
And not their appetites! I had rather be a toad,
And live upon the vapour of a dungeon,

* A species of hawk, also a term of reproach applied to

wanton.

† Straps of leather by which a hawk is held on the fist. + Men of intrigue.

Than keep a corner in the thing I love,

For other's uses.

DEFINITION OF JEALOUSY.

Trifles, light as air,

Are, to the jealous, confirmations strong
As proofs of holy writ.

Iago. Look, where he comes!

Not poppy, nor mandragora,*

[Enter Othello.

Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world,

Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep
Which thou ow'dst† yesterday.

Oth.

To me?

Ha! ha! false to me?

Iago. Why, how now, general? no more of that. Oth. Avaunt! be gone! thou hast set me on the rack:

I swear, 'tis better to be much abus'd,
Than but to know't a little.

Iago.

How now, my lord?

Oth. What sense had I of her stolen hours of lust? I saw it not, thought it not, it harm'd not me: I slept the next night well, was free and merry; I found not Cassio's kisses upon her lips: He that is robb'd, not wanting what is stolen, Let him not know it, and he's not robb'd at all. Iago. I am sorry to hear this.

Oth. I had been happy, if the general camp, Pioneers and all, had tasted her sweet body, So I had nothing known: O now, for ever, Farewell the tranquil mind! farewell content! Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars, That make ambition virtue! O, farewell! Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump, The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife, The royal banner; and all quality,

Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war And O`you mortal engines, whose rude throats * The mandrake has a soporific quality.

+ Possessed'st.

The vilest of the camp.

degraded soldiers.

Pioneers were generally