That would be howl'd out in the desert air, Where hearing should not latch them. Macd. What concern they? The general cause? or is it a fee-grief, Due to some single breast? Rosse. No mind that's honest Despised Old Age. I have liv'd long enough: my way of life Is fall'n into the sear, the yellow leaf: And that which should accompany old age, As honor, love, obedience, troops of friends, 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 you alone. Macd. If it be mine, Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it. Rosse. Let not your ears despise my tongue for ever, Which shall possess them with the heaviest Mal. Merciful Heaven!What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows; [speak, Give sorrow words: the grief that does not Whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it Macd. My children too? [break. Rosse. Wife, children, servants, all that could be found. Macd. And I must be from thence! my Rosse. I have said. [wife kill'd too? Mal. Be comforted: Let's make us med'cines of our great revenge, To cure this deadly grief. Macd. He has no children!-All my pretty ones? Did you say all? what, all? O hell-kite! all? Mal. Dispute it like a man. But I must also feel it as a man: I cannot but remember such things were, That were most precious to me. Did Heaven look on, [duff, And would not take their part? Sinful MacThey were all struck for thee! Naught that I am, Not for their own demerits, but for mine, now! Mal. Be this the whetstone of your sword; let grief eyes, Convert to anger; blunt not the heart, enrage it. Macd O, I could play the woman with mine [Heaven, And braggart with my tongue! But, gentle Cut short all intermission: front to front Bring thou this fiend of Scotland, and myself; Within my sword's length set him; if he 'scape, Heaven forgive him too! Mal. This tune goes manly. Come, go we to the king; our pow'r is ready; Our lack is nothing but our leave; Macbeth Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer you may; The night is long that never finds the day. [Exeunt. Which the poor heart would fain deny, but dare not. Diseases of the Mind incurable. Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas'd; Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow; Raze out the written troubles of the brain; And, with some sweet oblivious antidote, Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff Which weighs upon the heart? § 30. OTHELLO. SHAKSPEARE. "Tis the curse of service; Preferment goes by letter and affection, In Dispraise of Honesty. We cannot all be masters, nor all masters Cannot be truly follow'd. 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 nought but provender; and, when he is 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 lin'd their coats, Do themselves homage: these fellows have some soul, And such a one do I profess myself. It is as sure as you are Roderigo, Love the sole Motive of Othello's marrying. But that I love the gentle Desdemona, Othello's Relation of his Courtship to the Senate. And little blest with the set phrase of peace; Their dearest action in the tented field; I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver, Of my whole course of love; what drugs, what charms, What conjuration, and what mighty magic Lov'd me; oft invited me; still question'd me Of being taken by the insolent foe, These things to hear Would Desdemona seriously incline; Which ever as she could with haste dispatch, And let the laboring bark climb hills of seas, A Lover's Exclamation. Othello's first Suspicion. 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 something: I heard thee say but now-thou likd'st not thatWhen Cassio left my wife; what didst not like? And when I told thee-he was of my counsel, In my whole course of wooing: thou cried'st "Indeed!" And didst contract and purse thy brow together, Iago. My lord, you know I love you. And for I know thou'rt full of love and honesty, But he that filches from me my good name, Othello's Soliloquy after having been worked up to Jealousy by lago. This fellow's of exceeding honesty, And knows all qualities, with a learned spirit, Of human dealings: If I prove her haggard, Though that her jesses were my dear heartstrings, Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful- thank'd me; To prey at fortune. Haply, for I am black; And have not those soft parts of conversation Jealousy. Are, to the jealous, confirmation strong As proofs of holy writ. The Tortures of Jealousy. Enter Othello. Iago. Look where he comes! not poppy, nor mandragora, Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world, Oth. Ha! ha! false to me? to me? [that. I swear, 'tis better to be much abus'd, Iago. How now, my lord? [lust ? Oth. What sense had I of her stolen hours of 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 on 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. lago. 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, Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war! | On horror's head horrors accumulate : Iago. O grace! O Heaven defend me! 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. Oth. Nay, stay:-thou shouldst be honest. Iago. I should be wise: for honesty's a fool, And loses that it works for. Oth. By the world, I think my wife be honest, and think she is not; As Dian's visage, is now begrim'd and black Did an Egyptian to my mother give; Twould make her amiable, and subdue my fa- -There's magic in the web of it: And it was dyed in mummy, which the skilful Conserv'd of maidens hearts. A Lover's Computation of Time. What! keep a week away? seven days and nights ? [hours, Oth. Villain, be sure thou prove my love a Eight-score eight hours? and lovers' absent More tedious than the dial eight-score times? O weary reckoning! whore ; Be sure of it; give me the ocular proof; [Catching hold on him. Or by the worth of mine eternal soul, Thou hadst better have been born a dog, Than answer my wak'd wrath. Iago Is it come to this? [prove it, Oth. Make me to see it; or, at the least, so That the probation bear no hinge, nor loop, To hang a doubt on: or, woe upon thy life! Iago. My noble lord Oih. If thou dost slander her, and torture | Othellos Speech, after having received the Man- His pathetic Upbraiding of his Wife. Des. Upon my knees, what doth your speech I understand a fury in your words, [import? But not your words. Oth. Why, what art thou? Des. Your wife, my lord; your true and loyal wife. Oth. Come, swear it; damn thyself; Lest, being like one of heaven, the devils themselves Should fear to seize thee: therefore, be double Swear thou art honest. [damn'd; Des. Heaven doth truly know it. Oth. Heaven truly knows, that thou art false as hell. Des. To whom, my lord? With whom? How am I false? Oth. O, Desdemona, away! away! away! Des. Alas, the heavy day! who do you weep? Am I the occasion of these tears, my lord? If, haply, you my father do suspect An instrument of this your calling back, [him, Lay not your blame on me; if you have lost Why, I have lost him too. Oth. Had it pleased Heaven To try me with affliction; had he rain'd Yet could I bear that too; well, very well: there! That quicken even with blowing. Othou weed, The bawdy wind, that kisses all it meets, And will not hear it: what committed! Impudent strumpet ! Des. By Heaven, you do me wrong! Des. O Heaven forgive us! I took you for that cunning whore of Venice, Desdemona's Faithfulness. What shall I do to win my lord again? I know not how I lost him. Here I kneel[Kneeling. If e'er my will did trespass 'gainst his love, And ever will-though he do shake me off And his unkindness may defeat my life, A Bed-chamber: Desdemona is discovered asleep in her Bed. Enter Othello, with a Light and Sword. Oth. It is the cause, it is the cause, my soulLet me not name it to you, you chaste stars! It is the cause.-Yet I'll not shed her blood, Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow, And smooth as monumental alabaster. [Lays down the Sword. Yet she must die, else she'll betray more men, If I quench thee, thou flaming minister, Put out the light, and then put out the light! I can again thy former light restore, Should I repent me; but once put out thy light, Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature, I know not where is that Promethean heat That can thy light relume. When I have pluck'd thy rose, [Sets down the Taper, I cannot give it vital growth again; It needs must wither: I'll smell it on the tree. [Kissing her. Justice herself to break her sword! One more. O balmy breath, that dost almost persuade Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee, And love thee after: one more, and this the last: So sweet was ne'er so fatal. I must weep, But they are cruel tears; this sorrow's heavenly; It strikes where it doth love. Othello's Confusion after having murdered his Wife. Yes 'tis Emilia:-by and by-she's dead, 'Tis like, she comes to speak of Cassio's death: The noise was high. Still as the grave. good? Ha! no more moving? §31. THE LIFE AND DEATH OF KING I think she stirs again :-no.-What's the best? His Love for her. Had she been true, Reputation. THE purest treasure mortal times afford, Men are but gilded loam, or painted clay. Is spotless reputation; that away, Cowardice. That which in mean men we entitle patience, 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, I'd not have sold her for it. His bitter Remorse. Behold! I have a weapon: A better never did itself sustain ments Be not afraid, though you do see me weapon'd. wench! Pale as thy smock! when we shall meet at His last Speech. Soft you; a word or two before you go. I have done the state some service, and they know it; No more of that. I pray you, in your letters, Of one that lov'd not wisely, but too well: Albeit unused to the melting mood, [Stabs himself. Teach thy necessity to reason thus; But thou the king: woe doth the heavier sit The flow'rs, fair ladies; and thy steps, no more Popularity. Ourself, and Bushy, Bagot here, and Green, And patient under-bearing of his fortune, As were our England in reversion his, |