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That I would all my pilgrimage dilate;
Whereof by parcels she had something heard,
But not distinctively. I did consent,
And often did beguile her of her tears,
When I did speak of some distressful stroke
That my youth suffered. My story being done,
She gave me for my pains a world of sighs :
She swore, “ In faith, 'twas strange 'twas passing
strange, 6 'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful”She wished she had not heard it;-yet she wished That Heaven had made her such a man :--she
thanked me, And bade me, if I had a friend that loved her, I should but teach him how to tell my story, And that would woo her. On this hint I spake; She loved me for the dangers I had past, And I loved her that she did pity them : This only is the witchcraft I have used. Here comes the lady, let her witness it.
Enter DESDEMONA, I ago, and Attendants.
Duke. I think this tale would win my daughter Good Brabantio,
[tooTake 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 she confess 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!
Des. My 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 ;
I'm hitherto your daughter. But here's my hus.
And so much duty as my mother shewed [band;
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 hast already, with all my heart I would keep from thee. For your sake, jewel, I'm glad at soul I have no other child; For thy escape would teach me tyranny, To hang clogs on them. I have done, my lord. Duke. Let me speak like yourself; and lay a
sentence, Which, as a grice, or step, may help these lovers
Into your favour-
When remedies are past, the griefs are ended
By seeing the worst which late on hopes depended.
To mourn a mischief that is past and gone,
Is the next way to draw new mischief on.
What cannot be preserved when fortune takes,
Patience her injury a mockery makes. [thief ;
The robbed, that smiles, steals something from the
He robs himself, that spends a bootless grief.
Bra. So, let the Turk of Cyprus us beguile,
We lose it not so long as we can smile;
He bears the sentence well, that nothing bears
But the free comfort which from thence be hears;
But he bears both the sentence, and the sorrow,
That, to pay grief, must of poor patience borrow.
These sentences to sugar, or to gall,
Being strong on both sides, are equivocal.
But words are words ; I never yet did hear,
That the bruised heart was pierced through the ear.--
Beseech you, now to the affairs o'th'state.
Duke. The Turk with a most mighty preparation makes for Cyprus : Othello, the fortitudeof the place is best known to you. And though we have there a substitute of most allowed sufficiency; yet opinion, a sovereign mistress of effects, throws a more safe voice on you; you must therefore be content to slubber the gloss of your new fortunes, with this more stubborn and boisterous expedition.
Oth. The tyrant custom, most grave senators,
llath made the flinty and steel couch of war
My thrice-driven bed of down. I do agonize
A natural and prompt alacrity
I find in hardness; and do undertake
This present war against the Ottomites.
Most humbly therefore bending to your state,
I crave fit disposition for my wife,
Due reference of place and exhibition ;
With such accommodation and besort
As levels with her breeding.
Duke. Why, at her father's.
Bra. I will not have it so.
Oth. Nor I..
Des. Nor would I there reside,
To put my father in impatient thoughts
By being in his eye. Most gracious duke,
To my unfolding lend your gracious ear,
And let me find a charter in your voice
T'assist my simpleness.
Duke. What would you, Desdemona ?
Des. That I did love the Moor to live with him, My downright violence and storm of fortunes May trumpet to the world. My heart's subdued Even to the very quality of my lord ; I saw Othello's visage in his mind, And to his honours and his valiant parts Did I my soul and fortunes consecrate. So that, dear lords, if I be left behind
A moth of peace, and he go to the war,
The rites, for which I love him, are bereft me:
And I a heavy interim shall support,
By his dear absence. Let me go with him.
Oth. Your voices, lords; 'beseech you, let her
Have a free way. I therefore beg it not will
To please the palate of my appetite ;
Nor to apply with heat, the young affects,
In my distinct and proper satisfaction ;
But to be free and bounteous to her mind.
And Heaven defend your good souls, that you think,
I will your serious and great business scant,
For she is with me.--No, when light-winged toys
Of feathered Cupid foil with wanton dulness
My speculative and officed instruments,
That my disports corrupt and taint my business
Let housewives make a skillet of my helm, (34)
And all indign and base adversities
Make head against my estimation.
Duke. Be it as you shall privately determine, Or for her stay or going ; the affair cries haste ; And speed must answer. You must hence to-night.
Des. To-night, my Lord ? Duke. This night. Oth. With all my heart. (34) By referring to figure 100; and reversing it, it may be seen that the helm or bonnet of Othello, there drawn resembles a skillet.