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[18], 303, [1], 46, 49-100, [2], 69-232, [2], 79-80, [26], 76, 79-82, 80-98, [2], 109-156, 257-993 [i.e. 399], [1] p.; fol.
Numbering peculiarities: 1st count: p.50 misnumbered 58; p.59 misnumbered 51; p.86 misnumbered 88; p.153 misnumbered 151; p.161 misnumbered] 163; p.164 misnumbered 162; p. 165 misnumbered 163; p. 189 misnumbered 187; p. 249 misnumbered 251; p.250 misnumbered 252; p. 265 misnumbered 273 -- 2nd count: p.37 misnumbered 39 in some copies; p.89 misnumbered 91; p. 90 misnumbered 92 -- 3rd count: p.165-166 numbered 167 and 168 respectively; p. 216 numbered 218 -- 5th count: p. 279 misnumbered 259; p. 282 misnumbered 280; p.308 misnumbered 38; p. 379 misnumbered 389; p. 399 misnumbered 993.
The signatures varies between sources, with the most commonly cited being Hinman's and West's: 1. Hinman: πA⁶ (πA1+1) [πB²], ²A-2B⁶ 2C² a-g⁶ χgg⁸ h-v⁶ x⁴ χ1.2 [para.]-2[para.]⁶ 3[para]¹ aa-ff⁶ gg² Gg⁶ hh⁶ kk-bbb⁶; 2. West: πA⁶ (πA1+1, πA5+1.2)²A-2B⁶ 2C² a-g⁶ ²g⁸ h-v⁶ x⁴ 'gg3.4' (±'gg3') [para.]-2[para.]⁶ 3[para]¹ 2a-2f⁶ 2g² 2G⁶ 2h⁶ 2k-2v⁶ x⁶ 2y-3b⁶.
Mis-signed leaves: a3 mis-signed Aa3; ³gg1 mis-signed Gg; nn1-nn2 mis-signed Nn and Nn2 and oo1 mis-signed Oo.
"The life and death of King Iohn" begins new pagination on leaf a1 recto; "The tragedy of Coriolanus" begins new pagination on leaf aa1 recto.
Predominantly printed in double columns.
Text within simple lined frame.
Colophon reads: "Printed at the charges of W. Iaggard, Ed. Blount, I. Smithweeke, and W. Aspley. 1623.".
Editors’ dedication signed: Iohn Heminge. Henry Condell.
Two MS verses on first endpaper verso: 1. 9 lines of verse by an unknown author, first line reads "An active swain to make a leap was seen". 2. A copy of Ben Jonson’s printed "To the Reader"; MS note on t.p. (mutilated) appears to read "Honest [Shakes]peare". Minor annotations on leaf 2n4 (Macbeth). All in an early English hand, presumably added after leaving the Library.
Seventeenth-century (1624) English (Oxford) smooth calf. Bound for the Bodleian Library by William Wildgoose, with evidence of two cloth ties, red sprinkled edge. Formerly chained, with evidence of chain staple at the head of the upper cover. Remains of paper label at the head of the spine. Enclosed in 20th century book box by Maltby of Oxford. See S. Gibson in Original Bodleian Copy of First Folio, p. 12-13. One of four items sent out on 17th February 1624 for binding by Wildgoose containing printed waste from a copy of Cicero’s "De Officiis, et al." [Deventer: Richard Pafraet, between 1480 and 1485] as paste-downs. For more information on this work see: Bod. Inc. Cat., C-322.
For further details on the printing of this item see Hinman, Charleton. The printing and proof-reading of the First Folio of Shakespeare: Oxford, 1963.
Acquired by the Bodleian in 1623, presumably in sheets. It
was sent out to
After leaving the Bodleian this copy entered
the collection of
For a full discussion of this copy and the digital version see http://shakespeare.bodleian.ox.ac.uk/ and West and Rasmussen (2011), 31.
Sir: you are one of those that will not serue God,
if the deuill bid you. Because we come to do you seruice,
and you thinke we are Ruffians, you'le haue your Daugh
ter couer'd with a Barbary horse, you'le haue your Ne
phewes neigh to you, you'le haue Coursers for Cozens:
and Gennets for Germaines.
What prophane wretch art thou?
I am one Sir, that comes to tell you, your Daugh
ter and the Moore, are making the Beast with two backs.
Keepe vp your bright Swords, for the dew will
rust them. Good Signior, you shall more command with
yeares, then with your Weapons.
The Turke with a most mighty Preparation
makes for Cyprus: Othello, the Fortitude of the place is
best knowne to you. And though we haue there a Substi
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 stub
borne, and boystrous expedition.
Iago.
What saist thou Noble heart?
What will I do, think'st thou?
Why go to bed and sleepe.
I will incontinently drowne my selfe.
If thou do'st, I shall neuer loue thee after. Why
thou silly Gentleman?
It is sillynesse to liue, when to liue is torment:
and then haue we a prescription to dye, when death is
our Physition.
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.
What should I do? I confesse it is my shame
to be so fond, but it is not in my vertue to amend it.
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 Net
tels, 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 manu
red with Industry, why the power, and Corrigeable au
thoritie of this lies in our Wills. If the braine of our liues
had not one Scale of Reason, to poize another of Sensu
alitie, 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 Lusts: whereof I take this, that you
call Loue, to be a Sect, or Seyen.
It cannot be.
It is meerly a Lust 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 Commence
ment in her, and thou shalt see an answerable Seque
stration, 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 lushious 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 Mo
ney in thy purse. If thou wilt needs damne thy selfe, do
it a more delicate way then drowning. Make all the Mo
ney thou canst: If Sanctimonie, and a fraile vow, be
twixt an erring Barbarian, and super‑subtle Venetian be
not too hard for my wits, and all the Tribe of hell, thou
shalt enioy her: therefore make Money: a pox of drow
ning thy selfe, it is cleane out of the way. Seeke thou ra
ther to be hang'd in Compassing thy ioy, then to be
drown'd, and go without her.
Wilt thou be fast to my hopes, if I depend on
the issue?
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 mor
row. Adieu.
Where shall we meete i'th'morning?
At my Lodging.
Ile be with thee betimes.
Go too, farewell. Do you heare Rodorigo?
Ile sell all my Land.
Come on, come on: you are Pictures out of
doore: Bells in your Parlours: Wilde‑Cats in your Kit
chens: Saints in your Iniuries: Diuels being offended:
Players in your Huswiferie, and Huswiues in your
Beds.
I am about it, but indeed my inuention comes
from my pate, as Birdlyme do's from Freeze, it pluckes
out Braines and all. But my Muse labours, and thus she
is deliuer'd.
Worse, and worse.
How if Faire, and Foolish?
These are old fond Paradoxes, to make Fooles
laugh i'th'Alehouse. What miserable praise hast thou
for her that's Foule, and Foolish.
Oh heauy ignorance: thou praisest the worst
best. But what praise could'st thou bestow on a deser
uing woman indeed? One, that in the authorithy of her
merit, did iustly put on the vouch of very malice it
selfe.
Oh most lame and impotent conclusion. Do
not learne of him Æmillia, though he be thy husband.
How say you (Cassio) is he not a most prophane, and li
berall Counsailor?
He speakes home (Madam) you may rellish
him more in the Souldier, then in the Scholler.
He takes her by the palme: I, well said, whis
per. With as little a web as this, will I ensnare as great
a Fly as Cassio. I smile vpon her, do: I will giue thee
in thine owne Courtship. You say true, 'tis so indeed.
If such tricks as these strip you out of your Lieutenan
trie, it had beene better you had not kiss'd your three fin
gers so oft, which now againe you are most apt to play
the Sir, in. Very good: well kiss'd, and excellent Curt
sie: 'tis so indeed. Yet againe, your fingers to your
lippes? Would they were Cluster‑pipes for your
sake.
Oh you are well tun'd now: But Ile set downe
the peggs that make this Musicke, as honest as I am.
Do thou meet me presently at the Harbour.
Come thither, if thou be'st Valiant, (as they say base men
being in Loue, haue then a Nobilitie in their Natures,
more then is natiue to them) list‑me; the Lieutenant to
night watches on the Court of Guard. First, I must tell
thee this: Desdemona, is directly in loue with him.
With him? Why, 'tis not possible.
Lay thy finger thus: and let thy soule be in
structed. Marke me with what violence she first lou'd
the Moore, but for bragging, and telling her fantasticall
lies. To loue him still for prating, let not thy discreet
heart thinke it. Her eye must be fed. And what delight
shall she haue to looke on the diuell? When the Blood
is made dull with the Act of Sport, there should be a
game to enflame it, and to giue Satiety a fresh appetite.
Louelinesse in fauour, simpathy in yeares, Manners,
and Beauties: all which the Moore is defectiue in. Now
for want of these requir'd Conueniences, her delicate
tendernesse wil finde it selfe abus'd, begin to heaue the,
gorge, disrellish and abhorre the Moore, very Nature wil
instruct her in it, and compell her to some second choice.
Now Sir, this granted (as it is a most pregnant and vn
forc'd position) who stands so eminent in the degree of
this Forune, as Cassio do's: a knaue very voluble: no
further conscionable, then in putting on the meere forme
of Ciuill, and Humaine seeming, for the better compasse
of his salt, and most hidden loose Affection? Why none,
why none: A slipper, and subtle knaue, a finder of occa
sion: that he's an eye can stampe, and counterfeit Ad
uantages, though true Aduantage neuer present it selfe.
A diuelish knaue: besides, the knaue is handsome, young:
and hath all those requisites in him, that folly and greene
mindes looke after. A pestilent compleat knaue, and the
woman hath found him already.
I cannot beleeue that in her, she's full of most
bless'd condition.
Bless'd figges‑end. The Wine she drinkes is
made of grapes. If shee had beene bless'd, shee would
neuer haue lou'd the Moore: Bless'd pudding. Didst thou
not see her paddle with the palme of his hand? Didst not
marke that?
Yes, that I did: but that was but curtesie.
Leacherie by this hand: an Index, and obscure
prologue to the History of Lust and foule Thoughts.
They met so neere with their lippes, that their breathes
embrac'd together. Villanous thoughts Rodorigo, when
these mutabilities so marshall the way, hard at hand
comes the Master, and maine exercise, th'incorporate
conclusion: Pish. But Sir, be you rul'd by me. I haue
brought you from Venice. Watch you to night: for
the Command, Ile lay't vpon you. Cassio knowes you
not: Ile not be farre from you. Do you finde some oc
casion to anger Cassio, either by speaking too loud, or
tainting his discipline, or from what other course
you please, which the time shall more fauorably mi
nister.
Well.
Sir, he's rash, and very sodaine in Choller: and
happely may strike at you, prouoke him that he may: for
euen out of that will I cause these of Cyprus to Mutiny.
Whose qualification shall come into no true taste a
gaine, but by the displanting of Cassio. So shall you
haue a shorter iourney to your desires, by the meanes I
shall then haue to preferre them. And the impediment
most profitably remoued, without the which there were
no expectation of our prosperitie.
I will do this, if you can bring it to any oppor
tunity.
I warrant thee. Meete me by and by at the
Cittadell. I must fetch his Necessaries a Shore. Fare
well.
Adieu.
It is Othello's pleasure, our Noble and Vali
ant Generall. That vpon certaine tydings now arriu'd,
importing the meere perdition of the Turkish Fleete:
euery man put himselfe into Triumph. Some to daunce,
some to make Bonfires, each man, to what Sport and
Reuels his addition leads him. For besides these bene
ficiall Newes, it is the Celebration of his Nuptiall. So
much was his pleasure should be proclaimed. All offi
ces are open, & there is full libertie of Feasting from this
Blesse the Isle of Cyprus, and our Noble Generall Othel
lo.
Not this houre Lieutenant: 'tis not yet ten
o'th'clocke. Our Generall cast vs thus earely for the
loue of his Desdemona: Who, let vs not therefore blame;
he hath not yet made wanton the night with her: and
she is sport for Ioue.
She's a most exquisite Lady.
And Ile warrant her, full of Game.
Indeed she s a most fresh and delicate creature.
Well: happinesse to their Sheetes. Come Lieu
tenant, I haue a stope of Wine, and heere without are a
brace of Cyprus Gallants, that would faine haue a mea
sure to the health of blacke Othello.
Not to night, good Iago, I haue very poore,
and vnhappie Braines for drinking. I could well wish
Curtesie would inuent some other Custome of enter
tainment.
Oh, they are our Friends: but one Cup, Ile
drinke for you.
I haue drunke but one Cup to night, and that
was craftily qualified too: and behold what inouation
it makes heere. I am infortunate in the infirmity, and
dare not taske my weakenesse with any more.
What man? 'Tis a night of Reuels, the Gal
lants desire it.
Where are they?
Good‑faith a litle one: not past a pint, as I am a
Souldier.
Some Wine hoa.
Some Wine Boyes.
'Fore Heauen: an excellent Song.
I learn'd it in England: where indeed they are
most potent in Potting. Your Dane, your Germaine,
and your swag‑belly'd Hollander, (drinke hoa) are
nothing to your English.
Is your Englishmen so exquisite in his drin
king?
Why, he drinkes you with facillitie, your Dane
dead drunke. He sweates not to ouerthrow your Al
maine. He giues your Hollander a vomit, ere the next
Pottle can be fill'd.
To the health of our Generall.
I am for it Lieutenant: and Ile do you Iustice.
Oh sweet England.
Some Wine hoa.
Why this is a more exquisite Song then the o
ther.
Will you heare't againe?
No: for I hold him to be vnworthy of his Place,
that do's those things. Well: heau'ns aboue all: and
there be soules must be saued, and there be soules must
not be saued.
It's true, good Lieutenant.
For mine owne part, no offence to the Generall,
nor any man of qualitie: I hope to be saued.
And so do I too Lieutenant.
I: (but by your leaue) not before me. The
Lieutenant is to be saued before the Ancient. Let's haue
no more of this: let's to our Affaires. Forgiue vs our
sinnes: Gentlemen let's looke to our businesse. Do not
thinke Gentlemen, I am drunke: this is my Ancient, this
is my right hand, and this is my left. I am not drunke
now: I can stand well enough, and I speake well enough.
Excellent well.
Why very well then: you must not thinke then,
that I am drunke.
To th'Platforme (Masters) come, let's set the
Watch.
A Knaue teach me my dutie? Ile beate the
Knaue in to a Twiggen‑Bottle.
Reputation, Reputation, Reputation: Oh I haue
lost my Reputation. I haue lost the immortall part of
myselfe, and what remaines is bestiall. My Reputation,
Iago, my Reputation.
As I am an honest man I had thought you had
receiued some bodily wound; there is more sence in that
then in Reputation. Reputation is an idle, and most false
imposition; oft got without merit, and lost without de
seruing. You haue lost no Reputation at all, vnlesse you
repute your selfe such a looser. What man, there are
more wayes to recouer the Generall againe. You are
but now cast in his moode, (a punishment more in poli
cie, then in malice) euen so as one would beate his of
fencelesse dogge, to affright an Imperious Lyon. Sue to
him againe, and he's yours.
I will rather sue to be despis'd, then to deceiue
so good a Commander, with so slight, so drunken, and so
indiscreet an Officer. Drunke? And speake Parrat? And
squabble? Swagger? Sweare? And discourse Fustian
with ones owne shadow
Wine, if thou hast no name to be knowne by, let vs call
thee Diuell.
What was he that you follow'd with your
Sword? What had he done to you
I know not.
Is't possible?
I remember a masse of things, but nothing di
stinctly: a Quarrell, but nothing wherefore. Oh, that
men should put an Enemie in their mouthes, to steale a
way their Braines? that we should with ioy, pleasance,
reuell and applause, transforme our selues into Beasts.
Why? But you are now well enough: how
came you thus recouered?
It hath pleas'd the diuell drunkennesse, to giue
place to the diuell wrath, one vnperfectnesse, shewes me
another to make me frankly despise my selfe.
Come, you are too seuere a Moraller. As the
Time, the Place, & the Condition of this Country stands
I could hartily wish this had not befalne: but since it is, as
it is, mend it for your owne good.
I will aske him for my Place againe, he shall tell
me, I am a drunkard: had I as many mouthes as Hydra,
such an answer would stop them all. To be now a sen
sible man, by and by a Foole, and presently a Beast. Oh
strange! Euery inordinate cup is vnbless'd, and the Ingre
dient is a diuell.
Come, come: good wine, is a good famillar
Creature, if it be well vs'd: exclaime no more against it.
And good Lieutenant, I thinke, you thinke I loue
you.
I haue well approued it, Sir. I drunke?
You, or any man liuing, may be drunke at a
time man. I tell you what you shall do: Our General's
Wife, is now the Generall. I may say so, in this respect,
for that he hath deuoted, and giuen vp himselfe to the
Contemplation, marke: and deuotement of her parts
and Graces. Confesse your selfe freely to her: Impor
tune her helpe to put you in your place againe. She is
of so free, so kinde, so apt, so blessed a disposition,
she holds it a vice in her goodnesse, not to do more
then she is requested. This broken ioynt between
you, and her husband, entreat her to splinter. And my
Fortunes against any lay worth naming, this cracke of
your Loue, shall grow stronger, then it was before.
You aduise me well.
I protest in the sinceritie of Loue, and honest
kindnesse.
I thinke it freely: and betimes in the mor
ning, I will beseech the vertuous Desdemona to vndertake
for me: I am desperate of my Fortunes if they check me.
You are in the right: good night Lieutenant, I
must to the Watch.
Good night, honest Iago.
I do follow heere in the Chace, not
like a Hound that hunts, but one that filles vp the
Crie. My Money is almost spent; I haue bin to night
exceedingly well Cudgell'd: And I thinke the issue
will bee, I shall haue so much experience for my paines;
And so, with no money at all, and a little more Wit, re
turne againe to Venice.
Why Masters, haue your Instruments bin in Na
ples, that they speake i'th'Nose thus?
How Sir? how?
Are these I pray you, winde Instruments?
I marry are they sir.
Oh, thereby hangs a tale.
Whereby hangs a tale, sir?
Marry sir, by many a winde Instrument that I
know. But Masters, heere's money for you: and the Ge
nerall so likes your Musick, that he desires you for loues
sake to make no more noise with it.
Well Sir, we will not.
If you haue any Musicke that may not be heard,
too't againe. But (as they say) to heare Musicke, the Ge
nerall do's not greatly care.
We haue none such, sir.
Then put vp your Pipes in your bagge, for Ile
away. Go, vanish into ayre, away.
Dost thou heare me, mine honest Friend?
No, I heare not your honest Friend:
I heare you.
Prythee keepe vp thy Quillets, ther's a poore
peece of Gold for thee: if the Gentlewoman that attends
the Generall be stirring, tell her, there's one Cassio en
treats her a little fauour of Speech. Wilt thou do this?
She is stirring sir: if she will stirre hither, I shall
seeme to notifie vnto her.
In happy time, Iago.
You haue not bin a‑bed then?
Why no: the day had broke before we parted.
I haue made bold (Iago) to send in to your wife:
My suite to her is, that she will to vertuous Desdemona
Procure me some accesse.
What will you do with't, that you haue bene
so earnest to haue me filch it?
Do you know Sirrah, where Lieutenant Cassio
lyes?
I dare not say he lies any where.
Why man?
He's a Soldier, and for me to say a Souldier lyes,
'tis stabbing.
Go too: where lodges he?
To tell you where he lodges, is to tel you where
I lye.
Can any thing be made of this?
I know not where he lodges, and for mee to de
uise a lodging, and say he lies heere, or he lies there, were
to lye in mine owne throat.
Can you enquire him out? and be edified by re
port?
I will Catechize the world for him, that is, make
Questions, and by them answer.
Seeke him, bidde him come hither: tell him, I
haue moou'd my Lord on his behalfe, and hope all will
be well.
To do this, is within the compasse of mans Wit,
and therefore I will attempt the doing it.
Where should I loose the Handkerchiefe, Æ
milia?
I know not Madam.
Come, come: you'l neuer meete a more suffici
ent man.
Lye with her
when they be‑lye‑her. Lye with her: that's fullsome:
Handkerchiefe: Confessions: Handkerchiefe. To con
fesse, and be hang'd for his labour. First, to be hang'd,
and then to confesse: I tremble at it. Nature would not
inuest her selfe in such shadowing passion, without some
I
Noses, Eares, and Lippes: is't possible. Confesse? Hand
kerchiefe? O diuell.
She was heere euen now: she haunts me in e
uery place. I was the other day talking on the Sea
banke with certaine Venetians, and thither comes the
Bauble, and falls me thus about my neck.
Crying oh deere Cassio, as it were: his iesture im
ports it.
Now he tells how she pluckt him to my Cham
ber: oh, I see that nose of yours, but not that dogge, I
shall throw it to.
Well, I must leaue her companie.
Before me: looke where she comes.
'Tis such another Fitchew: marry a perfum'd one?
What do you meane by this haunting of me?
Let the diuell, and his dam haunt you: what
did you meane by that same Handkerchiefe, you gaue
me euen now
out the worke? A likely piece of worke, that you should
finde it in your Chamber, and know not who left it there.
This is some Minxes token, & I must take out the worke?
There, giue it your Hobbey‑horse, wheresoeuer you had
it, Ile take out no worke on't.
How now, my sweete Bianca?
How now? How now?
If you'le come to supper to night you may, if
you will not, come when you are next prepar'd for.
After her: after her.
I must, shee'l rayle in the streets else.
Will you sup there?
Yes, I intend so.
Well, I may chance to see you: for I would ve
ry faine speake with you.
Prythee come: will you?
Go too; say no more.
How shall I murther him, Iago.
Did you perceiue how he laugh'd at his vice?
Oh, Iago.
And did you see the Handkerchiefe?
Was that mine?
Yours by this hand: and to see how he prizes
the foolish woman your wife: she gaue it him,
hath giu'n it his whore.
Nay, you must forget that.
I, let her rot and perish, and be damn'd to
night, for she shall not liue. No, my heart is turn'd to
stone: I strike it, and it hurts my hand. Oh, the world
hath not a sweeter Creature: she might lye by an Em
perours side, and command him Taskes.
Nay, that's not your way.
Hang her, I do but say what she is: so delicate
with her Needle: an admirable Musitian. Oh she will
sing the Sauagenesse out of a Beare: of so high and plen
teous wit, and inuention
She's the worse for all this.
Oh, a thousand, a thousand times:
And then of so gentle a condition?
I too gentle.
Nay that's certaine:
But yet the pitty of it, Iago: oh Iago, the pitty of it
Iago.
If you are so fond ouer her iniquitie: giue her
pattent to offend, for if it touch not you, it comes neere
no body.
I will chop her into Messes: Cuckold me
Oh, 'tis foule in her.
With mine Officer?
That's fouler.
Get me some poyson, Iago, this night. Ile not
expostulate with her: least her body and beautie vnpro
uide my mind againe: this night Iago.
Do it not with poyson, strangle her in her bed,
Euen the bed she hath contaminated.
Come sweare it: damne thy selfe, least
being like one of Heauen, the diuells themselues should
feare to ceaze thee. Therefore be double damn'd: sweare
thou art honest.
Euery day thou dafts me with some deuise
Iago, and rather, as it seemes to me now, keep'st from
me all conueniencie, then suppliest me with the least ad
uantage of hope: I will indeed no longer endure it. Nor
am I yet perswaded to put vp in peace, what already I
haue foolishly suffred.
Will you heare me Rodorigo?
I haue heard too much: and your words and
Performances are no kin together.
With naught but truth: I haue wasted my
selfe out of my meanes. The Iewels you haue had from
me to deliuer Desdemona, would halfe haue corrupted a
Votarist. You haue told me she hath receiu'd them,
and return'd me expectations and comforts of sodaine
respect, and acquaintance, but I finde none.
Well, go too: very well.
Very well, go too: I cannot go too, (man) nor
tis not very well. Nay I think it is scuruy: and begin to
finde my selfe fopt in it.
Very well.
I tell you, 'tis not very well: I will make my
selfe knowne to Desdemona. If she will returne me my
Iewels, I will giue ouer my Suit, and repent my vnlaw
full solicitation. If not, assure your selfe, I will seeke
satisfaction of you.
You haue said now.
I: and said nothing but what I protest intend
ment of doing.
Why, now I see there's mettle in thee: and
euen from this instant do build on thee a better o
pinion then euer before: giue me thy hand Rodorigo.
Thou hast taken against me a most iust excepti
on: but yet I protest I haue dealt most directly in thy
Affaire.
It hath not appeer'd.
I grant indeed it hath not appeer'd: and
your suspition is not without wit and iudgement.
But Rodorigo, if thou hast that in thee indeed, which
I haue greater reason to beleeue now then euer (I
meane purpose, Courage, and Valour) this night
shew it. If thou the next night following enioy not
Desdemona, take me from this world with Treache
rie, and deuise Engines for my life.
Well: what is it? Is it within, reason and com
passe?
Sir, there is especiall Commission come from
Venice to depute Cassio in Othello's place.
Is that trueOthello and Desdemona
returne againe to Venice.
Oh no: he goes into Mauritania and taketh
away with him the faire Desdemona, vnlesse his a
bode be lingred heere by some accident. Where
in none can be so determinate, as the remouing of
Cassio.
How do you meane remouing him?
Why, by making him vncapable of Othello's
place: knocking out his braines.
And that you would haue me to do.
I: if you dare do your selfe a profit, and a
right. He sups to night with a Harlotry: and thither
will I go to him. He knowes not yet of his Honourable
Fortune, if you will watch his going thence (which
I will fashion to fall out betweene twelue and one)
you may take him at your pleasure. I will be neere
to second your A
vs. Come, stand not amaz'd at it, but go along with
me: I will shew you such a necessitie in his death, that
you shall thinke your selfe bound to put it on him. It
is now high supper time: and the night growes to wast.
About it.
I will heare further reason for this.
And you shalbe satisfi'd.
I do beseech you Sir, trouble your selfe no further.
Your Honour is most welcome.
Will you walke Sir? Oh Desdemona.
My Lord.
Get you to bed on th'instant, I will be re
turn'd forthwith: dismisse your Attendant there: look't
be done.
I will my Lord.
How goes it now? He lookes gentler then he did.
I know a Lady in Venice would haue walk'd
barefoot to Palestine for a touch of his nether lip.
Introth I thinke I should, and vndoo't when
I had done. Marry, I would not doe such a thing for a
ioynt Ring, nor for measures of Lawne, nor for Gownes,
Petticoats, nor Caps, nor any petty exhibition. But for
all the whole world: why, who would not make her hus
band a Cuckold, to make him a Monarch? I should ven
ture Purgatory for't.
Why, the wrong is but a wrong i'th'world;
and hauing the world for your labour, 'tis a wrong in
your owne world, and you might quickly make it right.
Yes, a dozen: and as many to'th'vantage, as
would store the world they plaid for.