presented to the 
 UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 SAN DIEGO 
 
 by 
 
 Dr. Carl Eckart
 
 Twelfth Night; 
 
 or, What You Will.
 
 CLOWN (sings) : 
 
 " 'Come away, come away, death' " 
 
 TWELFTH NIGHT Act II Scene 4
 
 " ' 
 
 / 
 
 BOOKLOVERS 
 EDITION 
 
 TWELFTH NIGHT 
 OTHELLO 
 
 By 
 
 WILLIAM 
 SHAKESPEARE 
 
 i> 
 
 Introductions. 
 Notes, Glossary. 
 Critical Comments, 
 and MetKod of Study 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY SOCIETY 
 
 NEW YORK
 
 Copyright, 1901 
 
 By 
 THE UNIVERSITY SOCIETY INC. 
 
 Manufactured in the U. S. A
 
 TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 Or, WHAT YOU WILL 
 
 Preface. 
 
 The First Edition. Twelfth Night; or, What You 
 Will, was first printed in the First Folio, where it occu- 
 pies pages 255-275 in the division of Comedies. There is 
 no record of any earlier edition. The text is singularly 
 free from misprints and corruptions. The list of ' Dra- 
 matis Personae ' was first given by Rowe, as in the case of 
 many of the plays. 
 
 The Date of Composition. John Manningham, a 
 member of the Middle Temple from January i6oi(-2) 
 to April, 1603, entered in his Diary, preserved in the Brit- 
 ish Museum (MS. Harleian 5353),* the following state- 
 ment : 
 
 " Feb. 2, i6oi(-2).^At our feast, we had a play called 
 Twelve Night, or What You Will. Much like the Com- 
 edy of Errors, or Menechmi in Plautus ; but most like and 
 near to that in Italian called Inganni. A good practise 
 in it to make the steward believe his lady widowe was in 
 love with him, by counterfeiting as from his lady in gen- 
 eral terms, telling him what she liked best in him, and 
 prescribing his gesture in smiling, his apparel, etc., and 
 then when he came to practise, making him believe they 
 took him to be mad," etc. Seeing that Tzvelfth Night is 
 not mentioned by Meres in 1598, and as the play contains 
 fragments of the song ' Fareivell, dear heart, since I must 
 
 * Cp. The Diary of John Manningham, ed. by John Bruce 
 (Camden Society, 1869).
 
 Preface TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 needs be gone,' from the Book of Ayres, by Robert Jones, 
 first published in 1601, the date of composition may with 
 some certainty be assigned to 1601-2. 
 
 Title of the Play. According- to Halliwell-Phillipps, 
 Twelfth Night was one of four plays acted by Shake- 
 speare's Company, ' the Lord Chamberlain's servants,' be- 
 fore the Court at Whitehall during the Christmas of 
 1601-2: possibly it owed its name to the circumstance that 
 it was first acted as the Twelfth-Night performance on 
 that occasion. Others hold that the name of the play was 
 suggested by ' its embodiment of the spirit of the 
 Twelfth-Night sports and revels a time devoted to fes- 
 tivity and merriment.' Its second name, ' Or What You 
 Will,' was perhaps given in something of the same spirit 
 as 'As You Like It' ; it probably implies that the first 
 title has no very special meaning. It has been suggested 
 that the name expresses Shakespeare's indifference to his 
 own production that it was a sort of farewell to Comedy : 
 in his subsequent plays the tragic element was to pre- 
 dominate. This far-fetched subtle view of the matter 
 has certainly little to commend it.* 
 
 The Sources of the Plot, (i.) There are at least two 
 Italian plays called Gl'Inganni (The Cheats), to which 
 Manningham may have referred in his entry as contain- 
 ing incidents resembling those of Twelfth Night; one of 
 these plays, by Nicolo Secchi, was printed in 1562; an- 
 other by Curzio Gonzalo, was first published in 1592. In 
 the latter play the sister, who dresses as a man, and is 
 mistaken for her brother, gives herself the name of Ce- 
 sare, and it seems likely that we have here the source of 
 Shakespeare's ' Cesario.' (ii.) A third play, however, en- 
 titled Gl'Ingannati (Venice, 1537), translated by Pea- 
 cock in 1862, bears a much stronger resemblance to 
 Twelfth Night; in its poetical induction, // Sacrificio, oc- 
 
 * Mansion took the name What You Will for a play of his own 
 in 1607.
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Preface 
 
 curs the name ' Malevolti,' which is at least suggestive of 
 the name ' Malvolio.' (iii. ) The ultimate source of the 
 story is undoubtedly Bandello's Novclle (II. 36), whence 
 it passed into Belief crest's Histoircs Tragiques (Vol. IV. 
 Hist, vii.) ; an English version of the story probably 
 Shakespeare's original for the general framework of his 
 Comedy found a place in Barnaby Rich's Farezvell to the 
 Military e Profession (1581), where it is styled ' The His- 
 tory of Apollonins and Sill a ' ; Rich, no doubt, derived it 
 from Cinthio's Hecatomithi; Cinthio in his turn was in- 
 debted to Bandello. (Rich's Apollonius and Silla is 
 printed in Hazlitt's Shakespeare's Library, Part I, Vol. 
 
 I.) 
 
 For the secondary plot, the story of ' Malvoglio, that 
 cross-gartered gull/ no source exists ; Malvolio, Sir Toby 
 Belch, Sir Andrew Aguecheek, Fabian, Feste, and Maria, 
 are wholly Shakespeare's. 
 
 Backward Links. Twelfth Night, probably the last 
 of the joyous comedies, holding a middle place between 
 As Yon Like It and All 's Well, suggests noteworthy 
 points of contact with earlier plays : e.g. ( I ) the dis- 
 guised Viola may well be compared with the disguised 
 Julia in The Two Gentlemen ; (2) the story of the wreck 
 recalls the similar episode in The Comedy of Errors', (3) 
 the whole play is in fact a ' Comedy of Errors ' arising 
 from mistaken identity; (4) the sentiment of music 
 breathes throughout, as in The Merchant of Venice, 
 
 ' like the sweet sound 
 That breathes upon a bank of violets, 
 Stealing and giving odour'; 
 
 (5) alike, too, in both these plays the faithful friend is 
 named Antonio; (6) in Viola's confession of her secret 
 love (II. iv. 113-121) we have a fuller chord of the note 
 struck in Love's Labour 's Lost (V. ii. 14-18) ; (7) finally, 
 Sir Andre is a sort of elder brother of Cousin Slender; 
 and Sir Toby Belch a near kinsman of Sir John Falstaff.
 
 Preface TWELFTH NIGHT 
 
 Duration of Action. The Action of Twelfth Night oc- 
 cupies three days, with an interval of three days between 
 the first and second days : 
 
 Day i, Act I. i. iii. Interval. Day 2, Act 1. iv. and v. ; 
 Act II. i. iii. Day 3, Act II. iv. and v. ; Acts III., IV., 
 and V.
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL 
 
 Critical Comments, 
 i. 
 
 Argument. 
 
 I. Sebastian and Viola, twins, are separated by ship- 
 wreck and each believes the other lost. Viola is cast 
 ashore on the coast of Illyria. She thereupon dons male 
 attire and obtains service as page with the Duke Orsino, 
 who has been vainly suing for the hand of Olivia, a native 
 lady. The Duke is pleased with the appearance of his 
 new page and sends Viola to pay court for him to Olivia, 
 which she does with so much gracefulness and eloquence 
 that the lady becomes enamoured of the supposed youth 
 instead of the master. 
 
 II. Olivia sends favours and messages to Viola in 
 which, naturally, the latter takes no interest. Viola, in 
 turn, has conceived a passion for the Duke, which she 
 is compelled to hide. 
 
 Olivia's steward, Malvolio, is so priggish and conceited 
 that others of her household contrive a practical joke 
 against him, sending him an anonymous love-letter 
 which he is given to believe is from Olivia herself. 
 
 III. Malvolio follows instructions contained in the let- 
 ter, and behaves so ridiculously that his mistress believes 
 him demented. Meanwhile Olivia's love for Viola be- 
 comes so intense that she sues openly to the fictitious 
 page, much to the latter's distress. Sir Andrew Ague- 
 cheek, a foolish suitor of Olivia's, is displeased at the 
 favours shown the page, and in a spirit of bravado chal- 
 lenges Viola. Though both are eager to avoid the con- 
 flict, it is only averted by the arrival of officers.
 
 Comments TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 IV. Sebastian, Viola's brother, who was also cast up 
 by the sea, comes to Illyria. He looks so much like his 
 sister especially since she is in men's garments that 
 Sir Andrew mistakes him for the page and renews the 
 fight. This time he does not encounter a woman's 
 shrinking spirit or weak arm, and he is soundly bela- 
 boured. Soon after, Olivia also meets Sebastian, sup- 
 poses him to be Viola and reiterates her devotion. The 
 delighted Sebastian returns love for love and they are se- 
 cretly espoused before a priest. 
 
 V. Olivia encounters Viola in company with the Duke 
 and greets her by the title of husband. The bewildered 
 page disavows the title, but the priest who performed the 
 ceremony vouches for it. The Duke is much disgruntled 
 that his favourite page should so abuse his confidence. 
 Viola is meeting with general disfavour, when her 
 brother Sebastian arrives on the scene, and the two who 
 had thought each other dead are reunited. Olivia dis- 
 covers that she has espoused the brother, after having 
 wooed the sister, while the Duke finds that his attachment 
 for his page becomes love when Viola resumes her fem- 
 inine attire. 
 
 The secret of Malvolio's dementia is revealed, and he 
 is released from the confinement in which he has been 
 held. 
 
 MCSPADDEN : Shakespearian Synopses. 
 
 II. 
 Viola. 
 
 As the innate dignity of Perdita pierces through her 
 rustic disguise, so the exquisite refinement of Viola tri- 
 umphs over her masculine attire. Viola is, perhaps, in a 
 degree less elevated and ideal than Perdita, but with a 
 touch of sentiment more profound and heart-stirring; 
 she is " deep-learned in the lore of love " at least theo- 
 
 6
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Comments 
 
 retically and speaks as masterly on the subject as Per- 
 dita does of flowers. 
 
 The situation and the character of Viola have been 
 censured for their want of consistency and probability; 
 it is therefore worth while to examine how far this criti- 
 cism is true. As for her situation in the drama (of which 
 she is properly the heroine) it is shortly this : She is ship- 
 wrecked on the coast of Illyria: she is alone and without 
 protection in a strange country. She wishes to enter 
 into the service of the Countess Olivia; but she is as- 
 sured that this is impossible; " for the lady, having re- 
 cently lost an only and beloved brother, has abjured the 
 sight of men, has shut herself up in her palace, and will 
 admit no kind of suit." In this perplexity Viola remem- 
 bers to have heard her father speak with praise and 
 admiration of Orsino, the Duke of the country ; and 
 having ascertained that he is not married, and that there- 
 fore his court is not a proper asylum for her in her 
 feminine character, she attires herself in the disguise of 
 a page, as the best protection against uncivil comments, 
 till she can gain some tidings of her brother. 
 
 If we carry our thoughts back to a romantic and chiv- 
 alrous age, there is surely sufficient probability here for 
 all the purposes of poetry. To pursue the thread of 
 Viola's destiny; she is engaged in the service of the 
 Duke, whom she finds " fancy-sick " for the love of 
 Olivia. We are left to infer (for so it is hinted in the first 
 scene) that this Duke who, with his accomplishments 
 and his personal attractions, his taste for music, his 
 chivalrous tenderness, and his unrequited love, is really 
 a very fascinating and poetical personage, though a little 
 passionate and fantastic had already made some im- 
 pression on Viola's imagination; and, when she comes 
 to play the confidante, and to be loaded with favours and 
 kindness in her assumed character, that she should be 
 touched by a passion made up of pity, admiration, grati- 
 tude, and tenderness, does not, I think, in any way de-
 
 Comments TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 tract from the genuine sweetness and delicacy of her 
 character, for " she never told her love." 
 
 Now all this, as the critic wisely observes, may not 
 present a very just picture of life; and it may also fail to 
 impart any moral lesson for the especial profit of well- 
 bred young ladies: but is it not in truth and in nature? 
 Did it ever fail to charm or to interest, to seize on the 
 coldest fancy, to touch the most insensible heart ? 
 
 Viola then is the chosen favourite of the enamoured 
 Duke, and becomes his messenger to Olivia, and the in- 
 terpreter of his sufferings to that inaccessible beauty. In 
 her character of a youthful page, she attracts the favour 
 of Olivia, and excites the jealousy of her lord. The situ- 
 ation is critical and delicate; but how exquisitely is the 
 character of Viola fitted to her part, carrying her through 
 the ordeal with all the inward and spiritual grace of 
 modesty! What beautiful propriety in the distinction 
 drawn between Rosalind and Viola ! The wild sweetness, 
 the frolic humour which sports free and unblamed amid 
 the shades of Ardennes, would ill become Viola, whose 
 playfulness is assumed as part of her disguise as a court- 
 page, and is guarded by the strictest delicacy. She has 
 not, like Rosalind, a saucy enjoyment in her own incog- 
 nito; her disguise does not sit so easily upon her; her 
 heart does not beat freely under it. As in the old ballad, 
 where " Sweet William " is detected weeping in secret 
 over her " man's array," so in Viola, a sweet conscious- 
 ness of her feminine nature is forever breaking through 
 her masquerade : 
 
 " And on her cheek is ready with a blush 
 Modest as morning, when she coldly eyes 
 The youthful Phoebus." 
 
 . . . The feminine cowardice of Viola, which will 
 not allow her even to affect a courage becoming her attire 
 her horror at the idea of drawing a sword, is very 
 natural and characteristic ; and produces a most humorous 
 effect, even at the very moment it charms and interests us. 
 
 8
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Comments 
 
 Contrasted with the deep, silent, patient love of Viola 
 for the Duke, we have the lady-like wilfulness of Olivia ; 
 and her sudden passion, or rather fancy, for the disguised 
 page, takes so beautiful a colouring of poetry and senti- 
 ment, that we do not think her forward. Olivia is like a 
 princess of romance, and has all the privileges of one; 
 she is, like Portia, high-born and high-bred, mistress over 
 her servants but not like Portia, " queen o'er herself." 
 She has never in her life been opposed ; the first contra- 
 diction, therefore, rouses all the woman in her, and turns 
 a caprice into a headlong passion ; yet she apologizes for 
 herself : 
 
 " I have said too much unto a heart of stone, 
 And laid mine honour too unchary out ; 
 There 's something in me that reproves my fault ; 
 But such a headstrong potent fault it is, 
 That it but mocks reproof ! " 
 
 And in the midst of her self-abandonment never allows 
 us to contemn, even while we pity her : 
 
 " What shall you ask of me that I '11 deny, 
 That honour, sav'd may upon asking give ? " 
 
 The distance of rank which separates the Countess 
 from the youthful page the real sex of Viola the dig- 
 nified elegance of Olivia's deportment, except where pas- 
 sion gets the better of her pride her consistent coldness 
 towards the Duke the description of that " smooth, dis- 
 creet, and stable bearing " with which she rules her house- 
 hold her generous care for her steward Malvolio, in the 
 midst of her own distress all these circumstances raise 
 Olivia in our fancy, and render her caprice for the page 
 a source of amusement and interest, not a subject of re- 
 proach. Twelfth Night is a genuine comedy a perpetual 
 spring of the gayest and the sweetest fancies. In artificial 
 society men and women are divided into castes and classes, 
 and it is rarely that extremes in character or manners can 
 approximate. To blend into one harmonious picture the 
 utmost grace and refinement of sentiment and the broad-
 
 Comments TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 est effects of humour, the most poignant wit and the most 
 indulgent benignity, in short, to bring before us in the 
 same scene Viola and Olivia, with Malvolio and Sir Toby, 
 belonged only to Nature and to Shakspeare. 
 
 MRS. JAMESON : Characteristics of Women. 
 
 III. 
 Malvolio. 
 
 Malvolio, the steward of Olivia's household, is prized 
 by that lady for his grave and punctilious disposition. 
 He discharges his office carefully and in a tone of some 
 superiority, for his mind is above his estate. At some 
 time in his life he has read cultivated books, knows the 
 theory of Pythagoras concerning the transmigration of 
 the soul, but thinks more nobly of the soul and no way 
 approves that opinion. His gentility, though a little 
 rusted and obsolete, is like a Sunday suit which nobody 
 thinks of rallying. He wears it well, and his mistress 
 cannot afford to treat him exactly as a servant; in fact, 
 she has occasionally dropped good-natured phrases 
 which he has interpreted into a special partiality; for 
 Quixotic conceits can riot about inside of his stiff de- 
 meanor. This proneness to fantasy increases the touchi- 
 ness of a man of reserve. He can never take a joke, and 
 his climate is too inclement to shelter humor. Souls 
 must be at blood-heat, and brains must expand with it 
 like a blossom, before humor will fructify. He wonders 
 how Olivia can tolerate the clown. " I protest," he says, 
 " I take these wise men, that crow so at these set kind of 
 fools, to be no better than the fools' zanies." Olivia 
 hits the difficulty when she replies, " Oh, you are sick of 
 self-love, and taste with a distempered appetite." Per- 
 haps he thinks nobly of the soul because he so pro- 
 foundly respects his own, and carries it upon stilts over 
 the heads of the servants and Sir Toby and Sir Andrew. 
 
 Imagine this saturnine and self-involved man obliged 
 
 10
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Comments 
 
 to consort daily with Sir Toby, who brings his hand to 
 the buttery-bar before breakfast, and who hates going 
 to bed " as an unfilled can," unless no more drink is 
 forthcoming; an irascible fellow, too, and all the more 
 tindery because continually dry. He has Sir Andrew 
 Aguecheek for a boon companion, who says of himself 
 that sometimes he has no more wit than a Christian, or 
 than an ordinary man. . . . 
 
 But the play does not let Malvolio drop softly on 
 his feet. There is a faint grudge provoked by the ill- 
 tempered quality of his conceit, and Shakspeare indicates 
 this trait of our nature. The Clown, who remembers 
 how the steward used to twit Olivia's contentment at his 
 sallies, and to deprecate it in a lofty way, now mimics 
 his phrases and manner to sting him with a last flutter- 
 ing dart. Malvolio's pride is already too deeply wounded, 
 for he has indeed been " notoriously abused." There 
 is no relenting in such a man on account of the fun, for 
 that is a crime in the eyes of a Puritan, to be punished 
 for God's sake. His temper acquires sombreness from 
 his belief that total depravity is a good doctrine if you 
 can only live up to it. But when this crime of fun is 
 perpetrated against the anointed self-esteem of the Puri- 
 tan himself, it is plain he will be revenged on the whole 
 pack of them unless they proceed to make a sop of defer- 
 ence to touch his hurt with, and a pipe out of his own 
 egotism for sounding a truce. 
 
 Shakspeare delighted to mark the transition of a vir- 
 tue to a vice; that elusive moment, as of a point of pas- 
 sage from one species to another, discovered and put 
 into a flash from the light of humor. Malvolio's grave 
 and self-respecting temperament is an excellence. No 
 decent man thinks meanly of himself, and the indecent 
 ones cannot afford the disparagement. The pretence of 
 it is a warning to us to expect mischief, a notice put up, 
 " This is a private way ; dangerous passing." 
 
 WEISS : Wit, Humor, and Shakspeare. 
 ii
 
 Comments TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 IV. 
 Feste, the Clown. 
 
 The Clown in this play, who, I am inclined to think, 
 should bear his name all through by as good a right as 
 Touchstone, is a remarkable creation, and very essential 
 to the knitting and coherence of the general play. His 
 musical talent is most diversified ; he gives as readily and 
 with equal effect the tender love song suited to the 
 dreamy and poetical being of the Duke, or the noisy 
 catch that shakes the rafters and calls up Malvolio at 
 midnight. Thus catholic in his artistic range, he has a 
 not less wide intellectual scope. He plumbs the depth 
 accurately of his mistress's exhausted sorrow, penetrates 
 the destiny of Maria and Sir Toby's weak pia mater, 
 holds up a mirror to the opalescent humours of the 
 Duke, and takes remarkably good care of his own eco- 
 nomical resources, by asking on every occasion when he 
 is safe to obtain yet free from slyness withal, genial and 
 enjoyable, as he is free of speech. Still, apart from a cer- 
 tain degree of loyalty to his mistress, he knows the world 
 too well this it is to be wise and to suffer for it, to re- 
 main very long in society of the same tone, or to feel 
 much sympathy for anybody, or consequently to get 
 much in return. With no great interest in the practical 
 jests and bear-baitings that are rife around him, he does 
 not refuse, however, to gratify his pique of profession, 
 by lending a helping hand in duping the churlish steward. 
 
 LLOYD : Critical Essays on the Plays of Shakespeare. 
 
 Of all Shakspeare's clowns, he is the best endowed 
 with a many-sided mirth, as indeed he should be to pass 
 lightly through the mingled romance and roystering of the 
 play and favor all its moods. The sentiment of the Duke 
 is as inebriated as the revelling which Malvolio rebukes. 
 Olivia's protracted grief for her brother is carefully cos- 
 
 12
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Comments 
 
 seted by her, as if on purpose to give the Clown an 
 opportunity. 
 
 Clo. Good madonna, why mournest thou ? 
 Oliv. Good fool, for my brother's death. 
 Clo. I think his soul is in hell, madonna. 
 Oliv. I know his soul is in heaven, fool. 
 
 Clo. The more fool, madonna, to mourn for your brother's soul 
 being in heaven. Take away the fool, gentlemen. 
 
 All the characters, noble and common, have some 
 weakness which he intuitively rallies. The charm of the 
 comedy lies in these unsubstantial moods of the chief 
 personages which consort with the more substantial 
 whims and appetites of the others. The only sobriety 
 is vested in the Clown; for all his freaks have a con- 
 sistent disposition. So the lovely poetry of the mock 
 mourners alternates with the tipsy prose of the genuine 
 fleshly fellows. Their hearty caterwauling penetrates to 
 Olivia's fond seclusion, and breaks up her brooding. 
 Feste is everywhere at home. When he plays the 
 curate's part, Malvolio beseechingly cries, " Sir Topas, 
 Sir Topas ! " The Clown says aside, " Nay, I am for all 
 waters " that is, for topaz, diamond, gems of the first 
 water, all many-colored facets, I'll reflect. And he does 
 so in this conversation which he holds with Malvolio, 
 who says, " I am no more mad than you are ; make the 
 trial of it in any constant question." Then Feste airs his 
 learning : " What is the opinion of Pythagoras concern- 
 ing wild-fowl?" and makes his question lead up to a 
 sharp retort, when Malvolio answers, " That the soul of 
 our grandam might haply inhabit a bird " ; for then Feste 
 says, " Thou shalt hold the opinion of Pythagoras ere I 
 will allow of thy wits, and fear to kill a woodcock lest thou 
 dispossess the soul of thy grandam." For it was a 
 country notion that the woodcock was the foolishest of 
 birds ; so he translates Malvolio's grandam into one, and 
 leaves him to inherit her absence of wits. And Malvolio 
 was so devoured by mortification and anxiety that he 
 
 13
 
 Comments TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 does not notice when Feste cannot restrain his burlesqu- 
 ing knack, but makes the pretended curate say that 
 Malvolio's cell " hath bay-windows, transparent as barri- 
 cadoes, and the clearstores toward the south-north are 
 as lustrous as ebony." 
 
 WEISS : Wit, Humor, and Shakspeare. 
 
 V. 
 The DuKe. 
 
 The Duke is treated without any disposition to ac- 
 centuate the ludicrous aspect of his character and for- 
 tunes. He is among the figures which suggest that 
 Shakespeare was attracted by the methods of Jonson. 
 Luxurious emotions are the elements in which he lives; 
 they run to seed in him like a '' Humour." His opening 
 words, " If music be the food of love, play on," incisively 
 denote him. His love is not a master who subdues all his 
 faculties and energies to its service, but an exquisite 
 companion whom he dotes on and dallies with. He has 
 no doubt a choice and graceful mind, and this saves him 
 from ridicule, though hardly from contempt; but it 
 serves rather to extract and formulate the finest essence 
 of each passing moment than to draw obvious practical 
 conclusions from facts. Hence the Clown no inapt ob- 
 server admirably prescribes for him a doublet of 
 changeable taffeta, " for thy mind is a very opal " ; his 
 speech flushes with the warmth and brilliance of each 
 passing mood. He is sick of self-love, and his persistent 
 courtship of Olivia rests upon a fatuous faith in his own 
 prevailing fascination; but his egoism is amiable and 
 effusive, and he enters easily into tender relations with 
 his subordinates. Apolonius, in Rich's tale, has no kind- 
 ness for his serving-man; but the charm of Cesario has 
 conquered the sensitive Duke long before the climax, 
 and the discovery of his sex transforms it without effort 
 into love. This change might seem to involve a modifi- 
 
 14
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Comments 
 
 cation of the climax of Rich's story, where Apolonius 
 vows his man's death to avenge his lady's honour (Haz- 
 litt's Shakespeare's Library, i. 408). In Shakespeare's 
 hands, however, the incident adds a piquant trait to the 
 Duke's character. His tenderness for the lad he dooms 
 converts the act into a sacrifice, and invests it with a 
 tragic significance full of relish to his artistic sense. 
 
 HERFORD: The Eversley Shakespeare. 
 
 VI. 
 Olivia. 
 
 The Countess Olivia forms a pendant to the Duke ; she, 
 like him, is full of yearning melancholy. With an osten- 
 tatious exaggeration of sisterly love, she has vowed to 
 pass seven whole years veiled like a nun, consecrating her 
 whole life to sorrow for her dead brother. Yet we find 
 in her speeches no trace of this devouring sorrow; she 
 jests with her household, and rules it ably and well, until, 
 at the first sight of the disguised Viola, she flames out 
 into passion, and, careless of the traditional reserve of 
 her sex, takes the most daring steps to win the supposed 
 youth. She is conceived as an unbalanced character, 
 who passes at a bound from exaggerated hatred for all 
 worldly things to total forgetfulness of her never-to-be- 
 forgotten sorrow. Yet she is not comic like Phebe ; for 
 Shakespeare has indicated that it is the Sebastian type, 
 foreshadowed in the disguised Viola, which is irresistible 
 to her; and Sebastian, we see, at once requites the love 
 which his sister had to reject. Her utterance of her 
 passion, moreover, is always poetically beautiful. 
 
 Yet while she is sighing in vain for Viola, she neces- 
 sarily appears as though seized with a mild erotic mad- 
 ness, similar to that of the Duke : and the folly of each 
 is parodied in a witty and delightful fashion by Mal- 
 volio's entirely ludicrous love for his mistress, and vain 
 
 15
 
 Comments TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 confidence that she returns it. Olivia feels and says this 
 herself, where she exclaims (iii. 4) 
 
 " Go call him hither. I am as mad as he 
 If sad and merry madness equal be." 
 
 BRANDES: William Shakespeare. 
 
 VII. 
 Sir Toby Belch and Sir Andrew AguecheeK. 
 
 Of Sir Toby himself that most whimsical, madcap, 
 trolicsome old toper, so full of antics and fond of sprees, 
 with a plentiful stock of wit and an equal lack of money 
 to keep it in motion it is enough to say, with one of the 
 best of Shakespearian critics, that " he certainly comes 
 out of the same associations where the Poet saw Falstaff 
 hold his revels " ; and that though " not Sir John, nor a 
 fainter sketch of him, yet he has an odd sort of a family 
 likeness to him." Sir Andrew Aguecheek, the aspiring, 
 lackadaisical, self-satisfied echo and sequel of Sir Toby, 
 fitly serves the double purpose of butt and foil to the 
 latter, at once drawing him out and setting him off. 
 Ludicrously proud of the most petty childish irregulari- 
 ties, which, however, his natural fatuity keeps him from 
 acting, and barely suffers him to affect, on this point he 
 reminds us of that impressive imbecility, Abraham Slen- 
 der ; yet not in such sort as to encroach at all upon Slen- 
 der's province. There can scarce be found a richer piece 
 of diversion than Sir Toby's practice in dandling him out 
 of his money, and paying him off with the odd hope of 
 gaining Olivia's hand. And the funniest of it is, that 
 while Sir Toby thoroughly understands him, he has not 
 himself the slightest suspicion what he is, being as con- 
 fident of his own wit as others are of his want of it. 
 
 HUDSON : The Works of Shakespeare. 
 
 16
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Comments 
 
 VIII. 
 
 The Characters Contrasted. 
 
 Viola is in so far the heroine of the piece, as the whole 
 play originates with and is kept in motion by her and her 
 disguise. And yet her character is given in light touches 
 and delicate colours, and is composed of but a few sim- 
 ple elements. It consists, so to say, only in the apparent 
 contradiction between a tender, gentle, sensitive, longing 
 heart, which, being " deeply skilled in the science of love," 
 retires in maidenly shyness within itself, and a bold, 
 witty and imaginative mind that whispers to her all kinds 
 of mischievous ideas, which she involuntarily follows 
 from her innate pleasure in romance and in what is fan- 
 tastic. She thereby falls into situations which cause her 
 anxiety and embarrassment, because, on the other hand, 
 she has not the courage or the practical cleverness pos- 
 sessed by Portia (in Tlie Merchant of Venice), whose 
 mind is somewhat akin to her own. To solve harmoni- 
 ously this apparent contradiction, which places the two 
 elements of the comic fancy and intrigue in close 
 juxtaposition, and to form a true and life-like character 
 out of these heterogeneous elements, is a task that 
 Shakspeare leaves to the talent of the actors. In pieces 
 like this and similar ones, he cannot well do otherwise; 
 he has to content himself with giving mere hints of the 
 characters, he has, so to say, but to touch the light pol- 
 len of the characterisation; a deeper development and 
 deeper motives would obstruct and retard the rapid, 
 easy, graceful movement of the act ; ~n. 
 
 The other characters, the musical and dreamy Duke, 
 who suns himself in his own love, and spends his time 
 in brooding over his own sorrows; Olivia, in her girl- 
 ish self-will, hard to please yet so easy to win over, so 
 serious, strict, and yet so graceful, who is so cold, so 
 shy, so virtuously reserved before she is in love, and so 
 inconsiderate in her desires, so devoted after her love is 
 
 17
 
 Comments TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 aroused by contradiction, and has burst forth into a 
 bright flame; Antonio, with his fantastic friendship for 
 Sebastian, and Sebastian with his healthy, vigorous, 
 youthful nature, taking with one snatch that which the 
 Duke has in vain endeavoured to obtain by entreaties, 
 lamentations and sighs; the roguish, ingenious Maria, 
 and her clever helper's help Fabian all these characters 
 are sketched in such fine outlines, the transparent col- 
 ours and delicate lights and shades of which are so har- 
 moniously blended with one another that, only in this 
 manner, and in no other, could they be the agents of 
 such a light, airy, hazy and yet deeply significant com- 
 position. The most carefully worked out contrast is that 
 between the Fool by profession and the involuntary 
 fools, Malvolio, Sir Andrew, and Sir Toby. While the 
 latter, in their own conceit and foolishness, unconsciously 
 draw the cap and bells over their own ears, the former, in 
 his self-adopted mental garb of motley colours, moves 
 with inimitable adroitness, and pins the lappets of his wit 
 to the back of all the other characters. The meaning of 
 the poem is, so to say, centred in him. He alone, in full 
 consciousness, contemplates life as a merry Twelfth 
 Night, in which every one has, in fact, only to play his 
 allotted part to the greatest possible amusement of himself 
 and others. 
 
 ULRICI : Shakspeare's Dramatic Art. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Charms of this Comedy. 
 
 Of all Shakespeare's comedies, perhaps Tzvelfth Night 
 is the most richly woven with various hues of love, seri- 
 ous and mock-heroic. The amorous threads take 
 warmer shifting colours from their neighbourhood to 
 the unmitigated remorseless merry-making of the har- 
 um-scarum old wag Sir Toby and his sparkling captain 
 
 18
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Comments 
 
 in mischief, the " most excellent devil of wit," Maria. 
 Beside their loud conviviality and pitiless fun the lan- 
 guishing sentiment of the cultivated love-lorn Duke 
 stands out seven times refined, and goes with exquisite 
 touch to the innermost sensibilities. 
 
 MINTO : Characteristics of English Poets. 
 
 Still one of the comedies of Shakspere's bright, sweet 
 time. True that we have to change Rosalind's rippling 
 laugh for the drunken catches and bibulous drollery of 
 Sir Toby Belch and his comrade, and Touchstone for 
 the Clown ; but the leading note of the play is fun, 
 as if Shakspere had been able to throw off all thought 
 of melancholy and had devised Malvolio to help his 
 friends " fleet the time carelessly," as they did in the 
 golden world. Still though, as ever in the comedies, 
 except The Merry Wives, there 's the shadow of death 
 and distress across the sunshine. Olivia's father and 
 brother just dead, Viola and Sebastian just rescued from 
 one death, Viola threatened with another, and Antonio 
 held a pirate and liable to death. And still the lesson is, 
 as in As You Like It, "Sweet are the uses of adversity"; 
 out of their trouble all the lovers come into happiness, 
 into wedlock. The play at first sight is far less striking 
 and interesting than Much Ado and As You Like It. No 
 brilliant Beatrice or Benedick catches the eye, no sad 
 Rosalind leaping into life and joyousness at the touch 
 of assured love. 
 
 The self-conceited Malvolio is brought to the front, 
 the drunkards and Clown come next; none of these 
 touch any heart ; and it 's not till we look past them that 
 we feel the beauty of the characters who stand in half- 
 light behind. Then we become conscious of a quiet 
 harmony of colour and form that makes a picture full 
 of charm, that grows on you as you study it, and be- 
 comes one of the possessions of your life. 
 
 FURNIV ALL : The Leopold Shakspere. 
 
 19
 
 Comments TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 This is justly considered as one of the most delightful 
 of Shakespear's comedies. It is full of sweetness and 
 pleasantry. It is perhaps too good-natured for comedy. 
 It has little satire, and no spleen. It aims at the lu- 
 dicrous rather than the ridiculous. It makes us laugh at 
 the follies of mankind, not despise them, and still less 
 bear any ill-will towards them. Shakespear's comic 
 genius resembles the bee rather in its power of extract- 
 ing sweets from weeds or poisons than in leaving a 
 sting behind it. He gives the most amusing exaggera- 
 tion of the prevailing foibles of his characters, but in 
 a way that they themselves, instead of being offended 
 at, would almost join in to humour ; he rather contrives 
 opportunities for them to show themselves off in the 
 happiest lights, than renders them contemptible in the 
 perverse construction of the wit or malice of others. 
 HAZLITT : Characters of Shakespear's Plays. 
 
 Malvolio, Sir Toby Belch, Sir Andrew Aguecheek, 
 Maria, and, above all, Viola, as they live in the comedy 
 are Shakespearian to the heart. The framework of the 
 play is essentially serious, a beautiful vein of poetic feel- 
 ing runs through it, and, intermingled with these, the 
 most unforced and uproarious fun. In inventiveness in 
 the comic type and in freedom in handling it, as well 
 as in grouping of diverse materials and fusing them into 
 a harmonious and captivating whole, this comedy was 
 never surpassed by the dramatist. He parted with the 
 muse of comedy at the very moment when he had mas- 
 tered the art of touching the weaknesses, follies, and 
 minor sins of men with a touch which was keen with 
 the wisdom of a great knowledge of the world, and 
 gentle with the kindness of one who loved his kind for 
 what they had lost rather than for what they had won. 
 MABIE : "William Shakespeare : Poet, Dramatist, and Man. 
 
 20
 
 Twelfth Night or What You Will
 
 DRAMATIS PERSONAE. 
 
 ORSINO, Duke of Illyria. 
 
 SEBASTIAN, brother to Viola. 
 
 ANTONIO, a sea captain, friend to Sebastian. 
 
 A Sea Captain, friend to Viola. 
 
 VALENTINE, ) ,. 
 
 P T J- lentlemen attending on the Duke. 
 
 SIR TOBY BELCH, uncle to Olivia. 
 SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK. 
 MALVOLIO, steward to Olivia. 
 
 FABIAN, i servants to Olivia 
 
 FESTE, a clown, \ 
 
 OLIVIA. 
 
 VIOLA. 
 
 MARIA, Olivia's woman. 
 
 Lords, Priests, Sailors, Officers, Musicians, and other Attendants. 
 SCENE: A city in Illyria, and the sea coast near it. 
 
 22
 
 
 Twelfth Night; 
 Or. What You Will. 
 
 ACT FIRST. 
 Scene I. 
 
 An apartment in the Duke's palace. 
 Enter Duke, Curio, and other Lords ; Musicians attending. 
 
 Duke. If music be the food of love, play on ; 
 Give me excess oi it, that, surfeiting, 
 The appetite may sicken, and so die. 
 That strain again ! it had a dying fall : 
 O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound. 
 That breathes upon a bank of violets, 
 Stealing and giving odour ! Enough ; no more : 
 'Tis not so sweet now as it was before. 
 O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou ! 
 That, notwithstanding thy capacity 10 
 
 Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there, 
 Of what validity and pitch soe'er, 
 But falls into abatement and low price, 
 Even in a minute ! so full of shapes is fancy, 
 That it alone is high fantastical. 
 
 Cur. Will you go hunt, my lord ? 
 
 Duke. What, Curio? 
 
 Cur. The hart. 
 
 Duke. Why, so I do, the noblest that I have : 
 O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first, 
 
 23
 
 Act I. Sc. ii. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Methought she purged the air of pestilence ! 20 
 
 That instant was I turn'd into a hart ; 
 And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds, 
 E'er since pursue me. 
 
 Enter Valentine. 
 
 How now? what news from her? 
 
 Vol. So please my lord, I might not be admitted ; 
 But from her handmaid do return this answer ; 
 The element itself, till seven years' heat, 
 Shall not behold her face at ample view ; 
 But, like a cloistress, she will veiled walk 
 And water once a day her chamber round 
 With eye-offending brine : all this to season 30 
 
 A brother's dead love, which she would keep fresh 
 And lasting in her sad remembrance. 
 
 Duke. O, she that hath a heart of that fine frame 
 To pay this debt of" love but to a brother, 
 How will she love, when the rich golden shaft 
 Hath kill'd the flock of all affections else 
 That live in her ; when liver, brain and heart, 
 These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and fill'd 
 Her sweet perfections with one self king! 
 Away before me to sweet beds of flowers : 40 
 
 Love-thoughts lie rich when canopied with bowers. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 Scene II. 
 
 The sea-coast. 
 Enter Viola, a Captain, and Sailors. 
 
 Vio. What country, friends, is this ? 
 Cap. This is Illyria, lady. 
 
 24
 
 OR. WHAT YOU WILL Act I. Sc. il. 
 
 Vio. And what should I do in Illyria ? 
 My brother he is in Elysium. 
 Perchance he is not drown'd; what think you, sailors? 
 
 Cap. It is perchance that you yourself were saved. 
 
 Vio. O my poor brother ! and so perchance may he be. 
 
 Cap. True, madam : and, to comfort you with chance, 
 Assure yourself, after our ship did split, 
 When you and those poor number saved with you 10 
 Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother, 
 Most provident in peril, bind himself, 
 Courage and hope both teaching him the practice, 
 To a strong mast that lived upon the sea ; 
 Where, like Arion on the dolphin's back, 
 I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves 
 So long as I could see. 
 
 Vio. For saying so, there 's gold : 
 
 Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope, 
 
 Whereto thy speech serves for authority, 20 
 
 The like of him. Know'st thou this country? 
 
 Cap. Ay, madam, well ; for I was bred and born 
 Not three hours' travel from this very place. 
 
 Vio. Who governs here? 
 
 Cap. A noble Duke, in nature as in name. 
 
 Vio. What is his name ? 
 
 Cap. Orsino. 
 
 Vio. Orsino ! . I have heard my father name him : 
 He was a bachelor then. 
 
 Cap. And so is now, or was so very late ; 3 
 
 For but a month ago I went from hence, 
 And then 'twas fresh in murmur, as, you know, 
 What great ones do the less will prattle of, 
 That he did seek the love of fair Olivia.
 
 Act I. Sc. ii. TWELFTH NIGHT ; 
 
 Vio. What's she? 
 
 Cap. A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count 
 
 That died some twelvemonth since ; then leaving her 
 In the protection of his son, her brother, 
 Who shortly also died : for whose dear love, 
 They say, she hath abjured the company 40 
 
 And sight of men. 
 
 Vio. O that I served that lady, 
 
 And might not be delivered to the world, 
 Till I had made mine own occasion mellow, 
 What my estate is ! 
 
 Cap. That were hard to compass ; 
 
 Because she will admit no kind of suit, 
 No, not the Duke's. 
 
 Vio. There is a fair behaviour in thee, captain; 
 And though that nature with a beauteous wall 
 Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee 
 I will believe thou hast a mind that suits 50 
 
 W T ith this thy fair and outward character. 
 I prithee, and I '11 pay thee bounteously, 
 Conceal me what I am, and be my aid 
 For such disguise as haply shall become 
 The form of my intent. I '11 serve this Duke : 
 Thou shalt present me as an eunuch to him : 
 It may be worth thy pains ; for I can sing, 
 And speak to him in many sorts of music, 
 That will allow me very worth his service. 
 What else may hap to time I will commit ; 60 
 
 Only shape thou thy silence to my wit. 
 
 Cap. Be you his eunuch, and your mute I '11 be : 
 
 When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see. 
 
 Vio. I thank thee : lead me on. [Exeunt. 
 
 26
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act I. Sc. iii. 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 Olivia's house. 
 Enter Sir Toby Belch and Maria. 
 
 Sir To. What a plague means my niece, to take the 
 
 death of her brother thus ? I am sure care 's an 
 
 enemy to life. 
 Mar. By my troth, Sir Toby, you must come in 
 
 earlier o' nights : your cousin, my lady, takes 
 
 great exceptions to your ill hours. 
 Sir To. Why, let her except, before excepted. 
 Mar. Ay, but you must confine yourself within the 
 
 modest limits of order. 
 Sir To. Confine ! I '11 confine myself no finer than I 10 
 
 am : these clothes are good enough to drink in ; 
 
 and so be these boots too : an they be not, let 
 
 them hang themselves in their own straps. 
 Mar. That quaffing and drinking will undo you : I 
 
 heard my lady talk of it yesterday ; and of a 
 
 foolish knight that you brought in one night here 
 
 to be her wooer. 
 
 Sir To. Who, Sir Andrew Aguecheek? 
 Mar. Ay, he. 
 
 Sir To. He 's as tall a man as any 's in Illyria. 20 
 
 Mar. What's that to the purpose ? 
 Sir To. Why, he has three thousand ducats a year. 
 Mar. Ay, but he '11 have but a year in all these 
 
 ducats : he 's a very fool and a prodigal. 
 Sir To. Fie, that you '11 say so ! he plays o' the viol- 
 
 de-gamboys, and speaks three or four languages 
 
 word for word without book, and. hath all the 
 
 good gifts of nature. 
 
 27
 
 Act I, Sc. iii. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Mar. He hath indeed, almost natural : for besides 
 
 that he 's a fool, he 's a great quarreller ; and 30 
 but that he hath the gift of a coward to allay the 
 gust he hath in quarrelling, 'tis thought among 
 the prudent he would quickly have the gift of a 
 grave. 
 
 Sir To. By this hand, they are scoundrels and sub- 
 stractors that say so of him. Who are they? 
 
 Mar. They that add, moreover, he 's drunk nightly 
 in your company. 
 
 Sir To. With drinking healths to my niece : I '11 
 
 drink to her as long as there is a passage in my 40 
 throat and drink in Illyria : he 's a coward and a 
 coystrill that will not drink to my niece till his 
 brains turn o' the toe like a parish-top. What, 
 wench ! Castiliano vulgo ; for here comes Sir 
 Andrew Agueface. 
 
 Enter Sir Andrew Aguecheek. 
 
 Sir And. Sir Toby Belch ! how now, Sir Toby Belch ! 
 Sir To. Sweet Sir Andrew ! 
 Sir And. Bless you, fair shrew. 
 Mar. And you too, sir. 
 
 Sir To. Accost, Sir Andrew, accost. 50 
 
 Sir And. What's that? 
 Sir To. My niece's chambermaid. 
 Sir And. Good Mistress Accost, I desire better ac- 
 quaintance. 
 
 Mar. My name is Mary, sir. 
 Sir And. Good Mistress Mary Accost, 
 Sir To. You mistake, knight : ' accost ' is front her, 
 board her, woo her, assail her. 
 
 28
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act I. Sc< iii. 
 
 Sir And. By my troth, I would not undertake her in 
 
 this company. Is that the meaning of ' accost ' ? 60 
 Mar. Fare you well, gentlemen. 
 Sir To. An thou let part so, Sir Andrew, would thou 
 
 mightst never draw sword again. 
 Sir And. An you part so, mistress, I would I might 
 
 never draw sword again. Fair lady, do you 
 
 think you have fools in hand ? 
 Mar. Sir, I have not you by the hand. 
 Sir And. Marry, but you shall have ; and here 's my 
 
 hand. 
 Mar. Now, sir, ' thought is free ' : I pray you, bring 70 
 
 your hand to the buttery-bar and let it drink. 
 Sir And. Wherefore, sweet-heart ? what 's your 
 
 metaphor ? 
 Mar. It 's dry, sir. 
 Sir And. Why, I think so : I am not such an ass but I 
 
 can keep my hand dry. But what 's your jest? 
 Mar. A dry jest, sir. 
 Sir And. Are you full of them? 
 Mar. Ay, sir, I have them at my fingers' ends: 
 
 marry, now I let go your hand, I am barren. [Exit. 
 Sir To. O knight, thou lackest a cup of canary : when 81 
 
 did I see thee so put down ? 
 Sir And. Never in your life, I think ; unless you see 
 
 canary put me down. Methinks sometimes I 
 
 have no more wit than a Christian or an ordinary 
 
 man has : but I am a great eater of beef and I 
 
 believe that does harm to my wit. 
 Sir To. No question. 
 Sir And. An I thought that, I 'Id forswear it. I '11 
 
 ride home to-morrow , Sir Toby. 90 
 
 29
 
 Act I. Sc. iii. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Sir To. Pourquoi, my dear knight ? 
 
 Sir And. What is 'pourquoi'? do or not do? I 
 
 would I had bestowed that time in the tongues 
 
 that I have in fencing, dancing and bear-baiting : 
 
 O, had I but followed the arts ! 
 Sir To. Then hadst thou had an excellent head of 
 
 hair. 
 
 Sir And. Why, would that have mended my hair? 
 Sir To. Past question ; for thou seest it will not curl 
 
 by nature. 100 
 
 Sir And. But it becomes me well enough, does 't 
 
 not? 
 Sir To. Excellent ; it hangs like flax on a distaff ; 
 
 and I hope to see a housewife take thee between 
 
 her legs and spin it off. 
 Sir And. Faith, I'll home to-morrow, Sir Toby: 
 
 your niece will not be seen ; or if she be, it 's 
 
 four to one she '11 none of me : the count himself 
 
 here hard by woos her. 
 Sir To. She'll none o' the count: she'll not match no 
 
 above her degree, neither in estate, years, nor 
 
 wit ; I have heard her swear 't. Tut, there 's 
 
 life in 't, man. 
 Sir And. I '11 stay a month longer. I am a fellow 
 
 o' the strangest mind i' the world ; I delight in 
 
 masques and revels sometimes altogether. 
 Sir To. Art thou good at these kickshawses, knight ? 
 Sir And. As any man in Illyria, whatsoever he be, 
 
 under the degree of my betters ; and yet I will 
 
 not compare with an old man. 120 
 
 Sir To. What is thy excellence in a galliard, knight ? 
 Sir And. Faith, I can cut a caper. 
 
 30
 
 OR. WHAT YOU WILL Act I. Sc. iv 
 
 Sir To. And I can cut the mutton to 't. 
 
 Sir And. And I think I have the back-trick simply as 
 strong as any man in Illyria. 
 
 Sir To. Wherefore are these things hid ? wherefore 
 have these gifts a curtain before 'em? are they 
 like to take dust, like Mistress Mall's picture? 
 why dost thou not go to church in a galliard 
 and come home in a coranto? My very walk 130 
 should be a jig; I would not so much as make 
 water but in a sink-a-pace. What dost thou 
 mean ? Is it a world to hide virtues in ? I did 
 think, by the excellent constitution of thy leg, it 
 was formed under the star of a galliard. 
 
 Sir And. Ay, 'tis strong, and it does indifferent well 
 in a flame-coloured stock. Shall we set about 
 some revels? 
 
 Sir To. What shall we do else ? were we not born 
 
 under Taurus ? 140 
 
 Sir And. Taurus ! That 's sides and heart. 
 
 Sir To. No, sir ; it is legs and thighs. Let me see 
 thee caper : ha ! higher : ha, ha ! excellent ! 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene IV. 
 
 The Duke's palace. 
 Enter Valentine, and Viola in man's attire. 
 
 Val. If the Duke continue these favours towards you, 
 Cesario, you are like to be much advanced : he 
 hath known you but three days, and already you 
 are no stranger. 
 
 Vio. You either fear his humour or my negligence,
 
 Act I. Sc. iv. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 that you call in question the continuance of his 
 love : is he inconstant, sir, in his favours ? 
 
 Val. No, believe me. 
 
 Vio. I thank you. Here comes the count. 
 
 Enter Duke, Curio, and Attendants. 
 
 Duke. Who saw Cesario, ho? 10 
 
 Vio. On your attendance, my lord ; here. 
 
 Duke. Stand you a while aloof. Cesario, 
 
 Thou know'st no less but all ; I have unclasp'd 
 To thee the book even of my secret soul : 
 Therefore, good youth, address thy gait unto her ; 
 Be not denied access, stand at her doors, 
 And tell them, there thy fixed foot shall grow 
 Till thou h?ve audience. 
 
 Vio. Sure, my noble lord, 
 
 If she be so abandon'd to her sorrow 
 As it is spoke, she never will admit me. 20 
 
 Duke. Be clamorous and leap all civil bounds 
 Rather than make unprofited return. 
 
 Vio. Say I do speak with her, my lord, what then ? 
 
 Duke. O, then unfold the passion of my love, 
 
 Surprise her with discourse of my dear faith : 
 It shall become thee well to act my woes ; 
 She will attend it better in thy youth 
 Than in a nuncio's of more grave aspect. 
 
 Vio. I think not so, my lord. 
 
 Duke. Dear lad, believe it ; 
 
 For they shall yet belie thy happy years, 30 
 
 That say thou art a man : Diana's lip 
 Is not more smooth and rubious ; thy small pipe 
 Is as the maiden's organ, shrill and sound ; 
 
 32
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act I. Sc. v. 
 
 And all is semblative a woman's part. 
 I know thy constellation is right apt 
 For this affair. Some four or five attend him ; 
 All, if you will ; for I myself am best 
 When least in company. Prosper well in this, 
 And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord, 
 To call his fortunes thine. 
 
 Vio. I '11 do my best 40 
 
 To woo your lady : [Aside] yet, a barful strife ! 
 Whoe'er I woo, myself would be his wife. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene V. 
 
 Olivia's house. 
 Enter Maria and Clown. 
 
 Mar. Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or 
 
 I will not open my lips so wide as a bristle may 
 
 enter in way of thy excuse : my lady will hang 
 
 thee for thy absence. 
 Clo. Let her hang me : he that is well hanged in this 
 
 world needs to fear no colours. 
 Mar. Make that good. 
 Clo. He shall see none to fear. 
 Mar. A good lenten answer : I can tell thee where 
 
 that saying was born, of ' I fear no colours.' 10 
 
 Clo. Where, good Mistress Mary? 
 Mar. In the wars : and that may you be bold to say 
 
 in your foolery. 
 Clo. Well, God give them wisdom that have it ; and 
 
 those that are fools, let them use their talents. 
 Mar. Yet you will be hanged for being so long ab- 
 
 33
 
 Act I. Sc. v. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 sent ; or, to be turned away, is not that as good 
 as a hanging to you ? 
 
 Clo. Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage ; 20 
 and, for turning away, let summer bear it out. 
 
 Mar. You are resolute, then ? 
 
 Clo. Not so, neither ; but I am resolved on two points. 
 
 Mar. That if one break, the other will hold ; or, if 
 both break, your gaskins fall. 
 
 Clo. Apt, in good faith; very apt. Well, go thy 
 way; if Sir Toby would leave drinking, thou 
 wert as witty a piece of Eve's flesh as any in Illyria. 
 
 Mar. Peace, you rogue, no more o' that. Here 
 
 comes my lady: make your excuse wisely, you 30 
 were best. [Exit. 
 
 Clo. Wit, an 't be thy will, put me into good fooling ! 
 Those wits, that think they have thee, do very 
 oft prove fools ; and I, that am sure I lack thee, 
 may pass for a wise man ; for what says Quina- 
 palus? ' Better a witty fool than a foolish wit.' 
 
 Enter Lady Olivia with Malvolio. 
 
 God bless thee, lady ! 
 
 OIL Take the fool away. 
 
 Clo. Do you not hear, fellows ? Take away the lady. 
 
 OIL Go to, you 're a dry fool ; I '11 no more of you : 40 
 besides, you grow dishonest. 
 
 Clo. Two faults, madonna, that drink and good 
 counsel will amend : for give the dry fool drink, 
 then is the fool not dry : bid the dishonest man 
 mend himself ; if he mend, he is no longer dis- 
 honest ; if he cannot, let the botcher mend him. 
 Any thing that 's mended is but patched : virtue 
 
 34
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act I. Sc. v. 
 
 that transgresses is but patched with sin; and 
 sin that amends is but patched with virtue. If 
 that this simple syllogism will serve, so; if it 50 
 will not, what remedy? As there is no true 
 cuckold but calamity, so beauty 's a flower. 
 The lady bade take away the fool; therefore, 
 I say again, take her away. 
 
 OH. Sir, I bade them take away you. 
 
 Clo. Misprision in the highest degree ! Lady, cucul- 
 lus non facit monachum ; that 's as much to say 
 as I wear not motley in my brain. Good ma- 
 donna, give me leave to prove you a fool. 
 
 Oli. Can you do it? 60 
 
 Clo. Dexteriously, good madonna. 
 
 Oli. Make your proof. 
 
 Clo. I must catechize you for it, madonna : good my 
 mouse of virtue, answer me. 
 
 Oli. Well, sir, for want of other idleness, I '11 bide 
 your proof. 
 
 Clo. Good madonna, why mournest thou ? 
 
 Oli. Good fool, for my brother's death. 
 
 Clo. I think his soul is in hell, madonna. 
 
 Oli. I know his soul is in heaven, fool. 70 
 
 Clo. The more fool, madonna, to mourn for your 
 brother's soul being in heaven. Take away the 
 fool, gentlemen. 
 
 Oli. What think you of this fool, Malvolio? doth 
 he not mend? 
 
 Mai. Yes, and shall do till the pangs of death shake 
 him: infirmity, that decays the wise, doth ever 
 make the better fool. 
 
 do. God send you, sir, a speedy infirmity, for the 
 
 35
 
 Act I. Sc. v. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 better increasing your folly! Sir Toby will be 80 
 sworn that I am no fox ; but he will not pass 
 his word for two pence that you are no fool. 
 
 Oli. How say you to that, Malvolio ? 
 
 Mai. I marvel your ladyship takes delight in such a 
 barren rascal : I saw him put down the other 
 day with an ordinary fool that has no more brain 
 than a stone. Look you now, he 's out of his 
 guard already; unless you laugh and minister 
 occasion to him, he is gagged. I protest, I take 
 these wise men, that crow so at these set kind 90 
 of fools, no better than the fools' zanies. 
 
 Oli. O, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and taste 
 with a distempered appetite. To be generous, 
 guiltless and of free disposition, is to take those 
 things for bird-bolts that you deem cannon-bul- 
 lets : there is no slander in an allowed fool, 
 though he do nothing but rail ; nor no railing in 
 a known discreet man, though he do nothing but 
 reprove. 
 
 Clo. Now Mercury endue thee with leasing, for 100 
 thou speakest well of fools! 
 
 Re-enter Maria. 
 
 Mar. Madam, there is at the gate a young gentle- 
 man much desires to speak with you. 
 
 Oli. From the Count Orsino, is it? 
 
 Mar. I know not, madam: 'tis a fair young man, 
 and well attended. 
 
 Oli. Who of my people hold him in delay ? 
 
 Mar. Sir Toby, madam, your kinsman. 
 
 Oli. Fetch him off, I pray you ; he speaks nothing 
 
 36
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act I. Sc. v. 
 
 but madman: fie on him! [Exit Maria.} Go no 
 you, Malvolio : if it be a suit from the count, I 
 am sick, or not at home ; what you will, to dis- 
 miss it. [Exit Malvolio.} Now you see, sir, 
 how your fooling grows old, and people dislike it. 
 Clo. Thou hast spoke for us, madonna, as if thy 
 eldest son should be a fool; whose skull Jove 
 cram with brains ! for, here he comes, one of 
 thy kin has a most weak pia mater. 
 
 Enter Sir Toby. 
 
 OIL By mine honour, half drunk. What is he at 
 
 the gate, cousin? 120 
 
 Sir To. A gentleman. 
 Oli. A gentleman ! what gentleman ? 
 Sir To. 'Tis a gentleman here a plague o' these 
 
 pickle-herring! How now, sot! 
 Clo. Good Sir Toby ! 
 Oli. Cousin, cousin, how have you come so early by 
 
 this lethargy? 
 Sir To. Lechery ! I defy lechery. There 's one at 
 
 the gate. 
 
 Oli. Ay, marry, what is he? 130 
 
 Sir To. Let him be the devil, an he will, I care not : 
 
 give me faith, say I. Well, it 's all one. [Exit. 
 
 Oli. What 's a drunken man like, fool? 
 Clo. Like a drowned man, a fool and a mad man : 
 
 one draught above heat makes him a fool ; the 
 
 second mads him ; and a third drowns him. 
 Oli. Go thou and seek the crowner, and let him sit 
 
 o' my coz ; for he 's in the third degree of drink, 
 
 he 's drowned : go look after him. 
 
 37
 
 Act I. Sc. v. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Clo. He is but mad yet, madonna; and the fool shall 140 
 look to the madman. [Exit. 
 
 Re-enter Malvolio. 
 
 Mai. Madam, yond young fellow swears he will 
 speak with you. I told him you were sick ; he 
 takes on him to understand so much, and there- 
 fore comes to speak with you. I told him you 
 were asleep ; he seems to have a foreknowledge 
 of that too, and therefore comes to speak with 
 you. What is to be said to him, lady ? he 's 
 fortified against any denial. 
 
 OIL Tell him he shall not speak with me. 150 
 
 Mai. Has been told so; and he says, he'll stand at 
 your door like a sheriff's post, and be the 
 supporter to a bench, but he '11 speak with 
 you. 
 
 OIL What kind o' man is he? 
 
 Mai. Why, of mankind. 
 
 OIL What manner of man ? 
 
 Mai. Of very ill manner : he '11 speak with you, will 
 you or no. 
 
 OIL Of what personage and years is he? 160 
 
 Mai. Not yet old enough for a man, nor young 
 enough for a boy ; as a squash is before 'tis a 
 peascod, or a codling when 'tis almost an apple : 
 'tis with him in standing water, between boy and 
 man. He is very well-favoured and he speaks 
 very shrewishly ; one would think his mother's 
 milk were scarce out of him. 
 
 OIL Let him approach : call in my gentlewoman. 
 
 Mai. Gentlewoman, my lady calls. [Exit. 
 
 38
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act I. Sc. v. 
 
 Re-enter Maria. 
 
 OH. Give me my veil : come, throw it o'er my face. 170 
 We '11 once more hear Orsino's embassy. 
 
 Enter Viola, and Attendants. 
 
 Vio. The honourable lady of the house, which is she ? 
 
 Oli. Speak to me; I shall answer for her. Your 
 will? 
 
 Vio. Most radiant, exquisite and unmatchable beauty, 
 I pray you, tell me if this be the lady of the 
 house, for I never saw her: I would be loath 
 to cast away my speech, for besides that it is 
 excellently well penned, I have taken great pains 
 to con it. Good beauties, let me sustain no 180 
 scorn ; I am very comptible, even to the least 
 sinister usage. 
 
 Oli. Whence came you, sir? 
 
 Vio. I can say little more than I have studied, and 
 that question 's out of my part. Good gentle 
 one, give me modest assurance if you be the 
 lady of the house, that I may proceed in my 
 speech. 
 
 Oli. Are you a comedian ? 
 
 Vio. No, my profound heart: and yet, by the very 190 
 fangs of malice I swear, I am not that I play. 
 Are you the lady of the house ? 
 
 Oli. If I do not usurp myself, I am. 
 
 Vio. Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp 
 yourself; for what is yours to bestow is not 
 yours to reserve. But this is from my com- 
 mission : I will on with my speech in your 
 
 39
 
 Act I. Sc. v. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 praise, and then show you the heart of my 
 message. 
 
 Oli. Come to what is important in 't : I forgive you 200 
 the praise. 
 
 Vio. Alas, I took great pains to study it, and 'tis 
 poetical. 
 
 Oli. It is the more like to be feigned. I pray you, 
 keep it in. I heard you were saucy at my gates, 
 and allowed your approach rather to wonder at 
 you than to hear you. If you be not mad, be 
 gone ; if you have reason, be brief : 'tis not that 
 time of moon with me to make one in so skipping 
 a dialogue. 210 
 
 Mar. Will you hoist sail, sir ? here lies your way. 
 
 Vio. No, good swabber ; I am to hull here a little 
 longer. Some mollification for your giant, sweet 
 lady. Tell me your mind : I am a messenger. 
 
 Oli. Sure, you have some hideous matter to deliver, 
 when the courtesy of it is so fearful. Speak 
 your office. 
 
 Vio. It alone concerns your ear. I bring no overture 
 of war, no taxation of homage : I hold the olive 
 in my hand; my words are as full of peace as 220 
 matter. 
 
 Oli. Yet you began rudely. What are you? what 
 would you ? 
 
 Vio. The rudeness that hath appeared in me have I 
 learned from my entertainment. What I am, 
 and what I would, are as secret as maidenhead ; 
 to your ears, divinity, to any other's, profanation. 
 
 Oli. Give us the place alone : we will hear this di- 
 vinity. [Exeunt Maria, and Attendants.] 
 
 40
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act I. Sc. v. 
 
 Now, sir, what is your text ? 230 
 
 Vio. Most sweet lady, 
 
 OIL A comfortable doctrine, and much may be said 
 of it. Where lies your text ? 
 
 Vio. In Orsino's bosom. 
 
 OIL In his bosom ! In what chapter of his bosom ? 
 
 Vio. To answer by the method, in the first of his 
 heart. 
 
 OIL O, I have read it: it is heresy. Have you no 
 more to say? 
 
 Vio. Good madam, let me see your face. 240 
 
 OIL Have you any commission from your lord to ne- 
 gotiate with my face ? You are now out of your 
 text : but we will draw the curtain and show 
 you the picture. Look you, sir, such a one I 
 was this present : is 't not well done ? [ Unveiling. 
 
 Vio. Excellently done, if God did all. 
 
 OH. 'Tis in grain, sir ; 'twill endure wind and weather. 
 
 Vio. 'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white 
 Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on : 
 Lady, you are the cruell'st she alive, 250 
 
 If you will lead these graces to the grave 
 And leave the world no copy. 
 
 OH. O, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted; I will 
 give out divers schedules of my beauty : it shall 
 be inventoried, and every particle and utensil 
 labelled to my will : as, item, two lips, indifferent 
 red ; item, two grey eyes, with lids to them ; 
 item, one neck, one chin, and so forth. Were 
 you sent hither to praise me? 
 
 Vio. I see you what you are, you are too proud ; 260 
 But, if you were the devil, you are fair. 
 
 4i
 
 Act I. Sc. v. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 My lord and master loves you : O, such love 
 
 Could be but recompensed, though you were crown'd 
 
 The nonpareil of beauty ! 
 
 Oli. How does he love me ? 
 
 Vio. With adorations, fertile tears, 
 
 With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire. 
 Oli. Your lord does know my mind ; I cannot love him : 
 
 Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble, 
 
 Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth ; 
 
 In voices well divulged, free, learn'd and valiant ; 270 
 
 And in dimension and the shape of nature 
 
 A gracious person : but yet I cannot love him ; 
 
 He might have took his answer long ago. 
 Vio. If I did love you in my master's flame, 
 
 With such a suffering, such a deadly life, 
 
 In your denial I would find no sense ; 
 
 I would not understand it. 
 
 Oli. Why, what would you? 
 
 Vio. Make me a willow cabin at your gate, 
 
 And call upon my soul within the house; 
 
 Write loyal cantons of contemned love 280 
 
 And sing them loud even in the dead of night ; 
 
 Halloo your name to the reverberate hills, 
 
 And make the babbling gossip of the air 
 
 Cry out ' Olivia ! ' O, you should not rest 
 
 Between the elements of air and earth, 
 
 But you should pity me ! 
 Oli. You might do much. 
 
 What is your parentage? 
 Vio. Above my fortunes, yet my state is well : 
 
 I am a gentleman. 
 
 Oli. Get you to your lord ; 
 
 42
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act I. Sc. v. 
 
 I cannot love him : let him send no more ; 290 
 
 Unless, perchance, you come to me again, 
 To tell me how he takes it. Fare you well : 
 I thank you for your pains : spend this for me. 
 
 Vio. I am no fee'd post, lady ; keep your purse : 
 My master, not myself, lacks recompense. 
 Love make his heart of flint that you shall love ; 
 And let your fervour, like my master's, be 
 Placed in contempt! Farewell, fair cruelty. [Exit. 
 
 OH. ' What is your parentage? ' 
 
 ' Above my fortunes, yet my state is well : 300 
 
 I am a gentleman.' I '11 be sworn thou art ; 
 
 Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and spirit, 
 
 Do give thee five- fold blazon : not too fast : soft, soft ! 
 
 Unless the master were the man. How now ! 
 
 Even so quickly may one catch the plague? 
 
 Methinks I feel this youth's perfections 
 
 With an invisible and subtle stealth 
 
 To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be. 
 
 What ho, Malvolio ! 
 
 Re-enter Malvolio. 
 
 Mai. Here, madam, at your service. 
 
 OH. Run after that same peevish messenger, 310 
 
 The county's man : he left this ring behind him, 
 Would I or not : tell him I '11 none of it. 
 Desire him not to flatter with his lord, 
 Nor hold him up with hopes ; I am not for him : 
 If that the youth will come this way to-morrow, 
 I '11 give him reasons for 't : hie thee, Malvolio. 
 
 Mai. Madam, I will. [Exit. 
 
 OIL I do I know not what, and fear to find 
 
 43
 
 Act II. Sc. i. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind. 
 
 Fate, show thy force : ourselves we do not owe ; 320 
 
 What is decreed must be, and be this so. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 ACT SECOND. 
 Scene I. 
 
 The sea-coast. 
 Enter Antonio and Sebastian. 
 
 Ant. Will you stay no longer? nor will you not that 
 I go with you ? 
 
 Seb. By your patience, no. My stars shine darkly 
 over me : the malignancy of my fate might per- 
 haps distemper yours ; therefore I shall crave of 
 you your leave that I may bear my evils alone : 
 it were a bad recompense for your love, to lay 
 any of them on you. 
 
 Ant. Let me yet know of you whither you are 
 bound. 
 
 Seb. No, sooth, sir: my determinate voyage is mere 10 
 extravagancy. But I perceive in you so excel- 
 lent a touch of modesty, that you will not extort 
 from me what I am willing to keep in ; therefore 
 it charges me in manners the rather to express 
 myself. You must know of me then, Antonio, 
 my name is Sebastian, which I called Roderigo. 
 My father was that Sebastian of Messaline, 
 whom I know you have heard of. He left be- 
 hind him myself and a sister, both born in an 
 hour: if the heavens had been pleased, would 20 
 we had so ended ! but you, sir, altered that ; for 
 
 44
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act II. Sc. i. 
 
 some hour before you took me from the breach 
 of the sea was my sister drowned. 
 
 Ant. Alas the day ! 
 
 Seb. A lady, sir, though it was said she much re- 
 sembled me, was yet of many accounted beauti- 
 ful : but, though I could not with such estimable 
 wonder overfar believe that, yet thus far I will 
 boldly publish her; she bore a mind that envy 
 could not but call fair. She is drowned already, 30 
 sir, with salt water, though I seem to drown her 
 remembrance again with more. 
 
 Ant. Pardon me, sir, your bad entertainment. 
 
 Seb. O good Antonio, forgive me your trouble. 
 
 Ant. If you will not murder me for my love, let me 
 be your servant. 
 
 Seb. If you will not undo what you have done, that 
 is, kill him whom you have recovered, desire it 
 not. Fare ye well at once : my bosom is full of 
 kindness, and I am yet so near the manners of 40 
 my mother, that upon the least occasion more 
 mine eyes will tell tales of me. I am bound to 
 the Count Orsino's court : farewell. [Exit. 
 
 Ant. The gentleness of all the gods go with thee ! 
 I have many enemies in Orsino's court, 
 Else would I very shortly see thee there. 
 But, come what may, I do adore thee so, 
 That danger shall seem sport, and I will go. [Exit.
 
 Act II. Sc. ii. TWELFTH NIGHT ; 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 A street. 
 Enter Viola, Malvolio follozving. 
 
 Mai. Were not you even now with the Countess 
 Olivia ? 
 
 Vio. Even now, sir ; on a moderate pace I have since 
 arrived but hither. 
 
 Mai. She returns this ring to you, sir: you might 
 have saved me my pains, to have taken it away 
 yourself. She adds, moreover, that you should 
 put your lord into a desperate assurance she will 
 none of him : and one thing more, that you be 
 never so hardy to come again in his affairs, 10 
 unless it be to report your lord's taking of this. 
 Receive it so. 
 
 Vio. She took the ring of me : I '11 none of it. 
 
 Mai. Come, sir, you peevishly threw it to her; and 
 her will is, it should be so returned : if it be 
 worth stooping for, there it lies in your eye; if 
 not, be it his that finds it. [Exit. 
 
 Vio. I left no ring with her : what means this lady ? 
 Fortune forbid my outside have not charm'd her ! 
 She made good view of me ; indeed, so much, 20 
 That methought her eyes had lost her tongue, 
 For she did speak in starts distractedly. 
 She loves me, sure ; the cunning of her passion 
 Invites me in this churlish messenger. 
 None of my lord's ring! why, he sent her none. 
 I am the man : if it be so, as 'tis, 
 Poor lady, she were better love a dream. 
 Disguise, I see, thou art a wickedness, 
 
 46
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act II. Sc. iii. 
 
 Wherein the pregnant enemy does much. 
 
 How easy is it for the proper-false 30 
 
 In women's waxen hearts to set their forms ! 
 
 Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we! 
 
 For such as we are made of, such we be. 
 
 How will this fadge ? my master loves her dearly ; 
 
 And I, poor monster, fond as much on him ; 
 
 And she, mistaken, seems to dote on me. 
 
 What will become of this ? As I am man, 
 
 My state is desperate for my master's love ; 
 
 As I am woman, now alas the day ! 
 
 What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe ! 40 
 
 O time ! thou must untangle this, not I ; 
 
 It is too hard a knot for me to untie ! [Exit. 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 Olivia's house. 
 Enter Sir Toby and Sir Andrew. 
 
 Sir To. Approach, Sir Andrew : not to be a-bed after 
 midnight is to be up betimes ; and ' diluculo 
 surgere,' thou know'st, 
 
 Sir And. Nay, by my troth, I know not : but I know, 
 to be up late is to be up late. 
 
 Sir To. A false conclusion : I hate it as an unfilled 
 can. To be up after midnight and to go to bed 
 then, is early : so that to go to bed after mid- 
 night is to go- to bed betimes. Does not our life 
 consist of the four elements ? 10 
 
 Sir And. Faith, so they say ; but I think it rather 
 consists of eating and drinking. 
 
 Sir To. Thou 'rt a scholar ; let us therefore eat and 
 drink. Marian, I say ! a stoup of wine ! 
 
 47
 
 Act II. Sc. Hi. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Enter Clown. 
 
 Sir And. Here comes the fool, i' faith. 
 
 Clo. How now, my hearts! did you never see the 
 picture of ' we three ' ? 
 
 Sir To. Welcome, ass. Now let 's have a catch. 
 
 Sir And. By my troth, the fool has an excellent 
 
 breast. I had rather than forty shillings I had 20 
 such a leg, and so sweet a breath to sing, as the 
 fool has. In sooth, thou wast in very gracious 
 fooling last night, when thou spokest of Pigro- 
 gromitus, of the Vapians passing the equinoctial 
 of Queubus : 'twas very good, i' faith. I sent 
 thee sixpence for thy leman : hadst it ? 
 
 Clo. I did irnpeticos thy gratillity ; for Malvolio's 
 nose is no whipstock : my lady has a white hand, 
 and the Myrmidons are no bottle-ale houses. 
 
 Sir And. Excellent ! why, this is the best fooling, 30 
 when all is done. Now, a song. 
 
 Sir To. Come on ; there is sixpence for you : let 's 
 have a song. 
 
 Sir And. There 's a testril of me too : if one knight 
 give a 
 
 Clo. Would you have a love-song, or a song of good 
 life? 
 
 Sir To. A love-song, a love-song. 
 
 Sir And. Ay, ay : I care not for good life. 
 
 Clo. [Sings] 
 
 O mistress mine, where are you roaming? 40 
 
 O, stay and hear ; your true love 's coming, 
 
 That can sing both high and low : 
 Trip no further, pretty sweeting ; 
 Journeys end in lovers meeting, 
 Every wise man's son doth know. 
 
 48
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act II. Sc. iii. 
 
 Sir And. Excellent good, i' faith. 
 Sir To. Good, good. 
 Clo. [Sings] 
 
 What is love ? 'tis not hereafter ; 
 Present mirth hath present laughter ; 
 
 What 's to come is still unsure : 50 
 
 In delay there lies no plenty ; 
 Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty, 
 
 Youth 's a stuff will not endure. 
 Sir And. A mellifluous voice, as I am true knight. 
 Sir To. A contagious breath. 
 Sir And. Very sweet and contagious, i' faith. 
 Sir To. To hear by the nose, it is dulcet in contagion. 
 But shall we make the welkin dance indeed? 
 shall we rouse the night-owl in a catch that will 
 draw three souls out of one weaver? shall we 
 do that ? 60 
 
 Sir And. An you love me, let 's do 't : I am dog at a 
 
 catch. 
 
 Clo. By 'r lady, sir, and some dogs will catch well. 
 Sir And. Most certain. Let our catch be, ' Thou 
 
 knave.' 
 Clo. ' Hold thy peace, thou knave,' knight ? I shall 
 
 be constrained in 't to call thee knave, knight. 
 Sir And. 'Tis not the first time I have constrained 
 one to call me knave. Begin, fool : it begins. 
 ' Hold thy peace.' 70 
 
 Clo. I shall never begin if I hold my peace. 
 Sir And. Good, i' faith. Come, begin. [Catch sung. 
 
 Enter Maria. 
 
 Mar. What a caterwauling do you keep here! If 
 my lady have not called up her steward Malvolio 
 
 49
 
 Act II. Sc. iii. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 and bid him turn you out of doors, never trust 
 me. 
 
 Sir To. My lady ? s a Cataian, we are politicians, 
 Malvolio 's a Peg-a-Ramsay, and ' Three merry 
 men be we.' Am not I consanguineous? am I 
 not of her blood? Tillyvally. Lady! [Sings] So 
 ' There dwelt a man in Babylon, lady, lady ! ' 
 
 Clo. Beshrew me, the knight 's in admirable fooling. 
 
 Sir And. Ay, he does well enough if he be disposed, 
 and so do I too : he does it with a better grace, 
 but I do it more natural. 
 
 Sir To. [Sings'] ' O, the twelfth day of December ', 
 
 Mar. For the love o' God, peace ! 
 
 Enter Malvolio. 
 
 Mai. My masters, are you mad? or what are you? 
 Have you no wit, manners, nor honesty, but to 
 gabble like tinkers at this time of night? Do 90 
 ye make an alehouse of my lady's house, that 
 ye squeak out your coziers' catches without any 
 mitigation or remorse of voice? Is there no 
 respect of place, persons, nor time in you ? 
 
 Sir To. We did keep time, sir, in our catches. 
 Sneck up ! 
 
 Mai. Sir Toby, I must be round with you. My ladv 
 bade me tell you, that, though she harbours 
 you as her kinsman, she 's nothing allied to your 
 disorders. If you can separate yourself and 100 
 your misdemeanours, you are welcome to the 
 house; if not, an it would please you to take 
 leave of her, she is very willing to bid you fare- 
 well. 
 
 So
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act II. Sc. iii. 
 
 Sir To. ' Farewell, dear heart, since I must needs be 
 gone.' 
 
 Mar. Nay, good Sir Toby. 
 
 Clo. ' His eyes do show his days are almost done.' 
 
 Mai. Is 't even so ? 
 
 Sir To. 'But I will never die.' no 
 
 Clo. Sir Toby, there you lie. 
 
 Mai. This is much credit to you. 
 
 Sir To. ' Shall I bid him go'? ' 
 
 Clo. ' What an if you do? ' 
 
 Sir To. ' Shall I bid him go, and spare not ? ' 
 
 Clo. ' O no, no, no, no, you dare not.' 
 
 Sir To. Out o' tune, sir : ye lie. Art any more 
 than a steward? Dost thou think, because thou 
 art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and 
 ale? 1 20 
 
 Clo. Yes, by Saint Anne, and ginger shall be hot i' 
 the mouth too. 
 
 Sir To. Thou'rt i' the right. Go, sir, rub your chain 
 with crumbs. A stoup of wine, Maria! 
 
 Mai. Mistress Mary, if you prized my lady's favour 
 at any thing more than contempt, you would not 
 give means for this uncivil rule : she shall know 
 of it, by this hand. [Exit. 
 
 Mar. Go shake your ears. 
 
 Sir And. 'Twere as good a deed as to drink when 130 
 a man 's a-hungry, to challenge him the field, and 
 then to break promise with him and make a fool 
 of him. 
 
 Sir To. Do 't knight : I '11 write thee a challenge ; 
 or I '11 deliver thy indignation to him by word 
 of mouth.
 
 Act II. Sc. iii. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Mar. Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for to-night : since 
 the youth of the count's was to-day with my 
 lady, she is much out of quiet. For Monsieur 
 Malvolio. let me alone with him : if I do not gull 140 
 him into a nayword, and make him a common 
 recreation, do not think I have wit enough to 
 lie straight in my bed : I know I can do it. 
 
 Sir To. Possess us, possess us ; tell us something of 
 him. 
 
 Mar. Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of puritan. 
 
 Sir And. O, if I thought that, I 'Id beat him like a dog ! 
 
 Sir To. What, for being a puritan ? thy exquisite 
 reason, dear knight? 
 
 Sir And. I have no exquisite reason for 't, but I have 150 
 reason good enough. 
 
 Mar. The devil a puritan that he is, or any thing 
 constantly, but a time-pleaser ; an affectioned 
 ass, that cons state without book and utters it by 
 great swarths : the best persuaded of himself, so 
 crammed, as he thinks, with excellencies, that it 
 is his grounds of faith that all that look on him 
 love him ; and on that vice in .him will my re- 
 venge find notable cause to work. 
 
 Sir To. What wilt thou do? 160 
 
 Mar. I will drop in his way some obscure epistles 
 of love ; wherein, by the colour of his beard, 
 the shape of his leg, the manner of his gait, the 
 expressure of his eye, forehead, and complexion, 
 he shall find himself most feelingly personated. 
 I can write very like my lady your niece : on a 
 forgotten matter we can hardly make distinction 
 of our hands. 
 
 52
 
 OR. WHAT YOU WILL Act II. Sc. iii. 
 
 Sir To. Excellent ! I smell a device. 
 
 Sir And. I have 't in my nose too. 
 
 Sir To. He shall think, by the letters that thou wilt 170 
 drop, that they come from my niece, and that 
 she 's in love with him. 
 
 Mar. My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that colour. 
 
 Sir And. And your horse now would make him an 
 ass. 
 
 Mar. Ass, I doubt not. 
 
 Sir And. O, 'twill be admirable ! 
 
 Mar. Sport royal, I warrant you : I know rny physic 
 will work with him. I will plant you two, and 
 let the fool make a third, where he shall find the 180 
 letter : observe his construction of it. For this 
 night, to bed, and dream on the event. Fare- 
 well. [Exit. 
 
 Sir To. Good night, Penthesilea. 
 
 Sir And. Before me, she 's a good wench. 
 
 Sir To. She 's a beagle, true-bred, and one that 
 adores me : what o' that ? 
 
 Sir And. I was adored once too. 
 
 Sir To. Let 's to bed, knight. Thou hadst need send 
 for more money. 
 
 Sir And. If I cannot recover your niece, I am a foul 190 
 way out. 
 
 Sir To. Send for money, knight ; if thou hast her not 
 i' the end, call me cut. 
 
 Sir And. If I do not, never trust me, take it how you 
 will. 
 
 Sir. Come, come, I '11 go burn some sock ; 'tis too 
 late to go to bed now : come, knight ; come, 
 knight. [Exeunt. 
 
 53
 
 Act II. Sc. iv. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Scene IV. 
 
 The Duke's palace. 
 Enter Duke, Viola, Curio, and others. 
 
 Duke. Give me some music. Now, good morrow, friends, 
 Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song, 
 That old and antique song we heard last night : 
 Methought it did relieve my passion much, 
 More than light airs and recollected terms 
 Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times : 
 Come, but one verse. 
 
 Cur. He is not here, so please your lordship, that 
 should sing it. 
 
 Duke. Who was it? 10 
 
 Cur. Feste, the jester, my lord ; a fool that the lady 
 Olivia's father took much delight in. He is 
 about the house. 
 
 Duke. Seek him out, and play the tune the while. 
 
 [Exit Curio. Music plays. 
 Come hither, boy : if ever thou shalt love, 
 In the sweet pangs of it remember me ; 
 For such as I am all true lovers are, 
 Unstaid and skittish in all motions else, 
 Save in the constant image of the creature 
 That is beloved. How dost thou like this tune ? 20 
 
 Vio. It gives a very echo to the seat 
 Where love is throned. 
 
 Duke. Thou dost speak masterly : 
 
 My life upon 't, young though thou art, thine eye 
 Hath stay'd upon some favour that it loves : 
 Hath it not, boy ? 
 
 54
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act II. Sc. iv. 
 
 Vio. A little, by your favour. 
 
 Duke. What kind of woman is 't ? 
 
 Vio. Of your complexion. 
 
 Duke. She is not worth thee, then. What years, i' faith ? 
 
 Vio. About your years, my lord. 
 
 Duke. Too old, by heaven : let still the woman take 
 
 An elder than herself ; so wears she to him, 30 
 
 So sways she level in her husband's heart : 
 
 For, boy, however we do praise ourselves, 
 
 Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, 
 
 More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn, 
 
 Than women's are. 
 
 Vio. I think it well, my lord. 
 
 Duke. Then let thy love be younger than thyself, 
 Or thy affection cannot hold the bent ; 
 For women are as roses, whose fair flower 
 Being once display'd doth fall that very hour. 
 
 Vio. And so they are : alas, that they are so ; 40 
 
 To die, even when they to perfection grow ! 
 
 Re-enter Curio and Cloivn. 
 
 Duke. O, fellow, come, the song we had last night. 
 Mark it, Cesario, it is old and plain ; 
 The spinsters and the knitters in the sun 
 And the free maids that weave their thread with 
 
 bones 
 
 Do use to chant it : it is silly sooth. 
 And dallies with the innocence of love, 
 Like the old age. 
 
 Clo. Are you ready, sir ? 50 
 
 Duke. Ay ; prithee, sing. [Music. 
 
 55
 
 Act II. Sc. iv. TWELFTH NIGHT: 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Clo. Come away, come away, death, 
 
 And in sad cypress let me be laid ; 
 Fly away, fly away, breath ; 
 
 I am slain by a fair cruel maid. 
 My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, 
 
 O, prepare it ! 
 
 My part of death, no one so true 
 Did share it. 
 
 Not a flower, not a flower sweet, 60 
 
 On my black coffin let there be strown ; 
 Not a friend, not a friend greet 
 
 My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown : 
 A thousand thousand sighs to save, 
 
 Lay me, O, where 
 Sad true lover never find my grave, 
 To weep there! 
 
 Duke. There 's for thy pains. 
 Clo. No pains, sir ; I take pleasure in singing, sir. 
 Duke. I '11 pay thy pleasure then. 70 
 
 Clo. Truly, sir, and pleasure will be paid, one time or 
 another. 
 
 Duke. Give me now leave to leave thee. 
 
 Clo. Now, the melancholy god protect thee ; and the 
 tailor make thy doublet of changeable taffeta, for 
 thy mind is a very opal. I would have men of 
 such constancy put to sea, that their business 
 might be every thing and their intent every 
 where ; for that 's it that always makes a good 
 voyage of nothing. Farewell. [Exit. 80 
 
 56
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act II. Sc. iv. 
 
 Duke. Let all the rest give place. 
 
 [Curio and Attendants retire. 
 
 Once more, Cesario, 
 
 Get thee to yond same sovereign cruelty : 
 Tell her, my love, more noble than the world, 
 Prizes not quantity of dirty lands ; 
 The parts that fortune hath bestow'd upon her, 
 Tell her, I hold as giddily as fortune ; 
 But 'tis that miracle and queen of gems 
 That nature pranks her in attracts my soul. 
 
 Vio. But if she cannot love you, sir ? 
 
 Duke. I cannot be so answer'd. 
 
 Vio. Sooth, but you must. 90 
 
 Say that some lady, as perhaps there is, 
 Hath for your love as great a pang of heart 
 As you have for Olivia : you cannot love her ; 
 You tell her so ; must she not then be answer'd ? 
 
 Duke. There is no woman's sides 
 
 Can bide the beating of so strong a passion 
 
 As love doth give my heart : no woman's heart 
 
 So big, to hold so much ; they lack retention. 
 
 Alas, their love may be call'd appetite, 
 
 No motion of the liver, but the palate, 100 
 
 That suffer surfeit, cloyment and revolt ; 
 
 But mine is all as hungry as the sea, 
 
 And can digest as much : make no compare 
 
 Between that love a woman can bear me 
 
 And that I owe Olivia. 
 
 Vio. Ay, but I know, 
 
 Duke. What dost thou know? 
 
 Vio. Too well what love women to men may owe : 
 In faith, they are as true of heart as we. 
 
 57
 
 Act II. Sc. v. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 My father had a daughter loved a man, 
 
 As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman, 1 10 
 
 I should your lordship. 
 
 Duke. And what 's her history ? 
 
 Vio. A blank, my lord. She never told her love, 
 But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, 
 Feed on her damask cheek : she pined in thought ; 
 And, with a green and yellow melancholy, 
 She sat like patience on a monument, 
 Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed? 
 We men may say more, swear more : but indeed 
 Our shows are more than will ; for still we prove 
 Much in our vows, but little in our love. 120 
 
 Duke. But died thy sister of her love, my boy? 
 
 Vio. I am all the daughters of my father's house, 
 And all the brothers too : and yet I know not. 
 Sir, shall I to this lady ? 
 
 Duke. Ay, that 's the theme. 
 
 To her in haste ; give her this jewel ; say, 
 My love can give no place, bide no denay. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene V. 
 
 Olivia's garden. 
 Enter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian. 
 
 Sir To. Come thy ways, Signior Fabian. 
 
 Fab. Nay, I '11 come : if I lose a scruple of this sport, 
 let me be boiled to death with melancholy. 
 
 Sir To. Wouldst thou not be glad to have the nig- 
 gardly rascally sheep-biter come by some notable 
 shame ? 
 
 58
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act II. Sc. v. 
 
 Fab. I would exult, man : you know, he brought me 
 
 out o' favour with my lady about a bear-baiting 
 
 here. 
 Sir To. To anger him we '11 have the bear again ; and 10 
 
 we will fool him black and blue : shall we not, 
 
 Sir Andrew? 
 
 Sir And. An we do not, it is pity of our lives. 
 Sir To. Here comes the little villain. 
 
 Enter Maria. 
 
 How now, my metal of India ! 
 
 Mar. Get ye all three into the box-tree: Malvolio's 
 coming down this walk : he has been yonder i' 
 the sun practising behaviour to his own shadow 
 this half hour : observe him, for the love of 
 mockery ; for I know this letter will make a 20 
 contemplative idiot of him. Close, in the name 
 of jesting ! Lie thou there [throws down a let- 
 ter} ; for here comes the trout that must be 
 caught with tickling. [Exit. 
 
 Enter Malvolio. 
 
 Mai. 'Tis but fortune ; all is fortune. Maria once 
 told me she did affect me : and I have heard her- 
 self come thus near, that, should she fancy, it 
 should be one of my complexion. Besides, she 
 uses me with a more exalted respect than any 
 one else that follows her. What should I think 30 
 on 't? 
 
 Sir To. Here 's an overweening rogue ! 
 
 Fab. O, peace ! Contemplation makes a rare turkey- 
 cock of him : how he jets under his advanced 
 plumes ! 
 
 59
 
 Act II. Sc. v. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Sir And. 'Slight, I could so beat the rogue ! 
 
 Sir To. Peace, I say. 
 
 Mai. To be Count Malvolio ! 
 
 Sir To. Ah, rogue ! 
 
 Sir And. Pistol him, pistol him. 
 
 Sir To. Peace, peace ! 40 
 
 Mai. There is example for 't ; the lady of the Strachy 
 married the yeoman of the wardrobe. 
 
 Sir And. Fie on him, Jezebel! 
 
 Fab. O, peace ! now he 's deeply in : look how im- 
 agination blows him. 
 
 Mai. Having been three months married to her, sit- 
 ting in my state, 
 
 Sir To. O, for a stone-bow, to hit him in the eye ! 
 
 Mai. Calling my officers about me, in my branched 
 
 velvet gown ; having come from a day-bed, 50 
 where I have left Olivia sleeping, 
 
 Sir To. Fire and brimstone ! 
 
 Fab. O, peace, peace ! 
 
 Mai. And then to have the humour of state ; and 
 after a demure travel of regard, telling them I 
 know my place as I would they should do theirs, 
 to ask for my kinsman Toby, 
 
 Sir To. Bolts and shackles ! 
 
 Fab. O, peace, peace, peace! now, now. 
 
 Mai. Seven of my people, with an obedient start, 60 
 make out for him : I frown the while ; and per- 
 chance wind up my watch, or play w r ith my 
 some rich jewel. Toby approaches ; courtesies 
 there to me, 
 
 Sir To. Shall this fellow live ? 
 
 Fab. Though our silence be drawn from us with cars, 
 yet peace. 
 
 60
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act II. Sc. v. 
 
 Mai. I extend my hand to him thus, quenching my 
 familiar smile with an austere regard of con- 
 trol, 
 
 Sir To. And does not Toby take you a blow o' the 70 
 lips then. 
 
 Mai. Saying, ' Cousin Toby, my fortunes having 
 cast me on your niece give me this prerogative 
 of speech,' 
 
 Sir To. What, what? 
 
 Mai. ' You must amend your drunkenness.' 
 
 Sir To. Out, scab ! 
 
 Fab. Nay, patience, or we break the sinews of our 
 
 Mai. ' Besides, you waste the treasure of your time 
 
 with a foolish knight,' 80 
 
 Sir And. That 's me, I warrant you. 
 
 Mai. ' One Sir Andrew,' 
 
 Sir And. I know 'twas I ; for many do call me fool. 
 
 Mai. What employment have we here ? 
 
 [ Taking up the letter. 
 
 Fab. Now is the woodcock near the gin. 
 
 i>irTo. O, peace! and the spirit of humours inti- 
 mate reading aloud to him. 
 
 Mai. By my life, this is my lady's hand ; these be her 
 very C's, her U's, and her T's ; and thus makes 
 she her great P's. It is, in contempt of ques- 90 
 tion, her hand. 
 
 Sir And. Her C's, her U's, and her T's: why that? 
 
 Mai. [reads] To the unknown beloved, this, and my 
 good wishes : her very phrases ! By your 
 leave, wax. Soft ! and the impressure her Lu- 
 crece, with which she uses to seal : 'tis my lady. 
 To whom should this be? 
 
 61
 
 Act II. Sc. v. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Fab. This wins him, liver and all. 
 
 Mai. [reads} Jove knows I love : 
 
 But who? 100 
 
 Lips do not move ; 
 No man must know. 
 
 ' No man must know.' What follows? the num- 
 bers altered ! ' No man must know ' : if this 
 should be thee, Malvolio ? 
 
 Sir To. Marry, hang thee, brock ! 
 
 Mai. [Reads] I may command where I adore ; 
 But silence, like a Lucrece knife, 
 With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore : 
 M, O, A, I, doth sway my life. no 
 
 Fab. A fustian riddle ! 
 
 Sir To. Excellent wench, say I 
 
 Mai. ' M, O, A, I, doth sway my life.' Nay, but 
 first, let me see, let me see, let me see. 
 
 Fab. What dish o' poison has she dressed him ! 
 
 Sir To. And with what wing the staniel checks at it! 
 
 Mai. ' I may command where I adore.' Why, she 
 may command me ; I serve her ; she is my lady. 
 Why, this is evident to any formal capacity ; 
 there is no obstruction in this: and the end, 120 
 what should that alphabetical position portend? 
 If I could make that resemble something in me, 
 Softly ! M, O, A, I, 
 
 Sir To. O, ay, make up that : he is now at a cold scent. 
 
 Fab. Sowter will cry upon 't for all this, though it be 
 as rank as a fox. 
 
 Mai. M, Malvolio ; M, why, that begins my name. 
 
 Fab. Did not I say he would work it out ? the cur is 
 excellent at faults. 
 
 62
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act II. Sc. v. 
 
 Mai. M, but then there is no consonancy in the 130 
 sequel ; that suffers under probation : A should 
 follow, but O does. 
 
 Fab. And O shall end, I hope. 
 
 Sir To. Ay, or I '11 cudgel him, and make him cry O ! 
 
 Mai. And then I comes behind. 
 
 Fab. Ay, an you had any eye behind you, you might 
 see more detraction at your heels than fortunes 
 before you. 
 
 Mai. M, O, A, I; this simulation is not as the 
 
 former : and yet, to crush this a little, it would 140 
 bow to me, for every one of these letters are 
 in my name. Soft ! here follows prose. 
 [Reads] If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In 
 my stars I am above thee ; but be not afraid of 
 greatness: some are born great, some achieve 
 greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 
 'em. Thy Fates open their hands ; let thy 
 blood and spirit embrace them; and, to inure 
 thyself to what thou art like to be, cast thy 
 humble slough and appear fresh. Be opposite 150 
 with a kinsman, surly with servants ; let thy 
 tongue tang arguments of state ; put thyself into 
 the trick of singularity : she thus advises thee 
 that sighs for thee. Remember who commended 
 thy yellow stockings, and wished to see thee ever 
 cross-gartered: I say, remember. Go to, thou 
 art made, if thou desirest to be so; if not, let 
 me see thee a steward still, the fellow of servants, 
 and not worthy to touch Fortune's fingers. Fare- 
 well. She that would alter services with thee, 160 
 THE FORTUNATE-UNHAPPY. 
 
 63
 
 Act II. Sc. v. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Daylight and champain discovers not more : this 
 is open. I will be proud, I will read politic 
 authors, I will baffle Sir Toby, I will wash off 
 gross acquaintance, I will be point-devise the 
 very man. I do not now fool myself, to let 
 imagination jade me ; for every reason excites to 
 this, that my lady loves me. She did commend 
 my yellow stockings of late, she did praise my 
 leg being cross-gartered; and in this she mani- 170 
 fests herself to my love, and with a kind of in- 
 junction drives me to these habits of her liking. 
 I thank my stars I am happy. I will be strange, 
 stout, in yellow stockings, and cross-gartered, 
 even with the swiftness of putting on. Jove and 
 my stars be praised! Here is yet a postscript. 
 [Reads] Thou canst not choose but know who I 
 am. If thou entertainest my love, let it appear in 
 thy smiling ; thy smiles become thee well ; there- 
 fore in my presence still smile, dear my sweet, I 180 
 prithee. Jove, I thank thee : I will smile ; I will 
 do everything that thou wilt have me. [Exit. 
 
 Fab. I will not give my part of this sport for a pen- 
 sion of thousands to be paid from the Sophy. 
 
 Sir To. I could marry this wench for this device, 
 
 Sir And. So could I too. 
 
 Sir To. And ask no other dowry with her but such 
 another jest. 
 
 Sir And. Nor I neither. 
 
 Fab. Here comes my noble gull-catcher. 190 
 
 Re-enter Maria. 
 
 Sir To. Wilt thou set thy foot o' my neck? 
 
 64
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act III. Sc. i, 
 
 Sir And. Or o' mine either ? 
 
 Sir To. Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip, and 
 become thy bond-slave? 
 
 Sir And. I' faith, or I either ? 
 
 Sir To. Why, thou hast put him in such a dream, 
 that when the image of it leaves him he must 
 run mad. 
 
 Mar. Nay, but say true : does it work upon him ? 
 
 Sir To. Like aqua-vitae with a midwife. 200 
 
 Mar. If you will then see the fruits of the sport, 
 mark his first approach before my lady : he will 
 come to her in yellow stockings, and 'tis a 
 colour she abhors, and cross-gartered, a fashion 
 she detests ; and he will smile upon her, which 
 will now be so unsuitable to her disposition, be- 
 ing addicted to a melancholy as she is, that it 
 cannot but turn him into a notable contempt. If 
 you will see it, follow me. 
 
 Sir To. To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent 210 
 devil of wit! 
 
 Sir And. I '11 make one too. {Exeunt. 
 
 ACT THIRD. 
 Scene I. 
 
 Olivia's garden. 
 Enter Viola and Clown with a tabor. 
 
 Vio. Save thee, friend, and thy music : dost thou 
 
 live by thy tabor ? 
 Clo. No, sir, I live by the church. 
 Vio. Art thou a churchman ! 
 
 65
 
 Act III. Sc. i. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Clo. No such matter, sir : I do live by the church ; 
 for I do live at my house, and my house doth 
 stand by the church. 
 
 Vio. So thou mayst say, the king lies by a beggar, 
 if a beggar dwell near him ; or, the church 
 stands by thy tabor, if thy tabor stand by the 10 
 church. 
 
 Clo. You have said, sir. To see this age! A sen- 
 tence is but a cheveril glove to a good wit: 
 how quickly the wrong side may be turned 
 outward ! 
 
 Vio. Xay, that 's certain ; they that dally nicely with 
 words may quickly make them wanton. 
 
 Clo. I would, therefore, my sister had had no name, 
 sir. 
 
 Vio. Why, man? 20 
 
 Clo. Why, sir, her name 's a word; and to dally with 
 that word might make my sister wanton. But 
 indeed words are very rascals since bonds dis- 
 graced them. 
 
 Vio. Thy reason, man ? 
 
 Clo. Troth, sir, I can yield you none without words ; 
 and words are grown so false, I am loath to 
 prove reason with them. 
 
 Vio. I warrant thou art a merry fellow and'carest for 
 
 nothing. 30 
 
 Clo. Not so, sir, I do care for something ; but in my 
 conscience, sir, I do not care for you : if that be 
 to care for nothing, sir, I would it would make 
 you invisible. 
 
 Vio. Art not thou the Lady Olivia's fool ? 
 
 Clo. No, indeed, sir; the Lady Olivia has no folly: 
 
 66
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act III. Sc. i. 
 
 she will keep no fool, sir, till she be married; 
 and fools are as like husbands as pilchards are to 
 herrings ; the husband 's the bigger : I am in- 
 deed not her fool, but her corrupter of words. 40 
 
 Vio. I saw thee late at the Count Orsino's. 
 
 Clo. Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the 
 sun, it shines everywhere. I would be sorry, 
 sir, but the fool should be as oft with your master 
 as with my mistress : I think I saw your wisdom 
 there. 
 
 Vio. Nay, an thou pass upon me, I '11 no more with 
 thee. Hold, there 's expenses for thee. 
 
 Clo. Now Jove, in his next commodity of hair, send 
 
 thee a beard ! 50 
 
 Vio. By my troth, I '11 tell thee, I am almost sick for 
 one; [Aside] though I would not have it grow 
 on my chin. Is thy lady within ? 
 
 Clo. Would not a pair of these have bred, sir ? 
 
 Vio. Yes, being kept together and put to use. 
 
 Clo. I would play Lord Pandarus of Phrygia, sir, to 
 bring a Cressida to this Troilus. 
 
 Vio. I understand you, sir ; 'tis well begged. 
 
 Clo. The matter, I hope, is not great, sir, begging 
 
 but a beggar : Cressida was a beggar. My lady 60 
 is within, sir. I will construe to them whence 
 you come ; who you are and what you would are 
 out of my welkin, I might say ' element,' but the 
 word is over- worn. [Exit. 
 
 Vio. This fellow is wise enough to play the fool ; 
 And to do that well craves a kind of wit : 
 He must observe their mood on whom he jests, 
 The quality of persons, and the time, 
 
 67
 
 Act III. Sc. i. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 And, like the haggard, check at every feather 
 
 That comes before his eye. This is a practice 70 
 
 As full of labour as a wise man's art : 
 
 For folly that he wisely shows is fit ; 
 
 But wise men, folly- fall'n, quite taint their wit. 
 
 Enter Sir Toby and Sir Andrevv. 
 
 Sir To. Save you, gentleman. 
 
 Vio. And you, sir. 
 
 Sir And. Dieu vous garde, monsieur. 
 
 Vio. Et votts aussi ; votre serviteur, 
 
 Sir And. I hope, sir, you are ; and I am yours. 
 
 Sir To. Will you encounter the house ? my niece is 
 
 desirous you should enter, if your trade be to 80 
 
 her. 
 Vio. I am bound to your niece, sir ; I mean, she is the 
 
 list of my voyage. 
 
 Sir To. Taste your legs, sir ; put them to motion. 
 Vio. My legs do better understand me, sir, than I 
 
 understand what you mean by bidding me taste 
 
 my legs. 
 
 Sir To. I mean, to go, sir, to enter. 
 Vio. I will answer you with gait and entrance. 
 
 But we are prevented. 90 
 
 Enter Olivia and Maria. 
 
 Most excellent accomplished lady, the heavens 
 
 rain odours on you ! 
 Sir And. That youth 's a rare courtier : ' Rain 
 
 odours ' ; well. 
 Vio. My matter hath no voice, lady, but to your own 
 
 most pregnant and vouchsafed ear. 
 
 68
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act III. Sc. i. 
 
 Sir And. 'Odours,' 'pregnant,' and 'vouchsafed': 
 I '11 get 'em all three all ready. 
 
 OIL Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to 
 
 my hearing. [Exeunt Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and 100 
 Maria.] Give me your hand, sir. 
 
 Vio. My duty, madam, and most humble service. 
 
 Oli. What is your name ? 
 
 Vio. Cesario is your servant's name, fair princess. 
 
 Oli. My servant, sir ! 'Twas never merry world 
 Since lowly feigning was call'd compliment : 
 You 're servant to the Count Orsino, youth. 
 
 Vio. And he is yours, and his must needs be yours : 
 Your servant's servant is your servant, madam. 
 
 Oli. For him, I think not on him : for his thoughts, no 
 Would they were blanks, rather than filled with me ! 
 
 Vio. Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts 
 On his behalf. 
 
 Oli. O, by your leave, I pray you ; 
 
 I bade you n^ver speak again of him : 
 But, would you undertake another suit, 
 I had rather hear you to solicit that 
 Than music from the spheres. 
 
 Vio. Dear lady, 
 
 Oli. Give me leave, beseech you. I did send, 
 After the last enchantment you did here, 
 A ring in chase of you ; so did I abuse 120 
 
 Myself, my servant and, I fear me, you : 
 Under your hard construction must I sit. 
 To force that on you, in a shameful cunning. 
 Which you knew none of yours : what might you 
 
 think? 
 Have you not set mine honour at the stake 
 
 69
 
 Act III. Sc. i. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 And baited it with all the unmuzzled thoughts 
 That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your 
 
 receiving 
 
 Enough is shown ; a cypress, not a bosom, 
 Hides my heart. So, let me hear you speak. 
 
 Vio. I pity you. 
 
 Oli. That's a degree to love. 130 
 
 Vio. No, not a grize ; for 'tis a vulgar proof, 
 That very oft we pity enemies. 
 
 Oli. Why, then, methinks 'tis time to smile again. 
 
 world, how apt the poor are to be proud ! 
 If one should be a prey, how much the better 
 To fall before the lion than the wolf! 
 
 [Clock strikes. 
 
 The clock upbraids me with the waste of time. 
 
 Be not afraid, good youth, I will not have you : 
 
 And yet, when wit and youth is come to harvest, 
 
 Your wife is like to reap a proper man ; 140 
 
 Their lies your way, due west. 
 Vio. Then westward-ho! 
 
 Grace and good disposition attend your ladyship ! 
 
 You '11 nothing, madam, to my lord by me ? 
 Oli. Stay: 
 
 1 prithee, tell me what thou think'st of me. 
 Vio. That you do think you are not what you are. 
 Oli. If I think so, I think the same of you. 
 
 Vio. Then think you right : I am not what I am. 
 
 Oli. I would you were as I would have you be ! 
 
 Vio. Would it be better, madam, than I am ? 1 50 
 
 I wish it might, for now I am your fool. 
 Oli. O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful 
 
 In the contempt and anger of his lip ! 
 
 70
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act III. Sc. ii. 
 
 A murderous guilt shows not itself more soon 
 
 Than love that would seem hid : love's night is noon. 
 
 Cesario, by the roses of the spring, 
 
 By maidhood, honour, truth and every thing, 
 
 I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride, 
 
 Nor wit nor reason can my passion hide, 
 
 Do not extort thy reasons from this clause, 160 
 
 For that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause ; 
 
 But rather reason thus with reason fetter, 
 
 Love sought is good, but given unsought is better. 
 
 Vio. By innocence I swear, and by my youth, 
 I have one heart, one bosom and one truth, 
 And that no woman has ; nor never none 
 Shall mistress be of it, save I alone. 
 And so adieu, good madam : never more 
 Will I my master's tears to you deplore. 
 
 OIL Yet come again ; for thou perhaps mayst move 170 
 That heart, which now abhors, to like his love. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 Olivia's house. 
 Enter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian. 
 
 Sir And. No, faith, I '11 not stay a jot longer. 
 Sir To. Thy reason, dear venom, give thy reason. 
 Fab. You must needs yield your reason, Sir Andrew. 
 Sir And. Marry, I saw your niece do more favours to 
 
 the count's serving-man than ever she bestowed 
 
 upon me ; I saw 't i' the orchard. 
 Sir To. Did she see thee the while, old boy ? tell me 
 
 that.
 
 Act III. Sc. ii. TWELFTH NIGHT ; 
 
 Sir And. As plain as I see you now. 
 
 Fab. This was a great argument of love in her to- 10 
 ward you. 
 
 Sir And. 'Slight, will you make an ass o' me? 
 
 Fab. I will prove it legitimate, sir, upon the oaths of 
 judgement and reason. 
 
 Sir To. And they have been grand-jurymen since 
 before Noah was a sailor. 
 
 Fab. She did show favour to the youth in your sight 
 only to exasperate you, to awake your dormouse 
 valour, to put fire in your heart, and brimstone in 
 your liver. You should then have accosted her ; 20 
 and with some excellent jests, fire-new from the 
 mint, you should have banged the youth into 
 dumbness. This was looked for at your hand, 
 and this was balked : the double gilt of this 
 opportunity you let time wash off, and you are 
 now sailed into the north of my lady's opinion ; 
 where you will hang like an icicle on a Dutch- 
 man's beard, unless you do redeem it by some 
 laudable attempt either of valour or policy. 
 
 Sir And. An 't be any way, it must be with valour ; 30 
 for policy I hate : I had as lief be a Brownist as 
 a politician. 
 
 Sir To. Why, then, build me thy fortunes upon the 
 basis of valour. Challenge me the count's 
 youth to fight with him ; hurt him in eleven 
 places : my niece shall take note of it ; and 
 assure thyself, there is no love-broker in the 
 world can more prevail in man's commendation 
 with woman than report of valour. 
 
 Fab. There is no way but this, Sir Andrew. 40 
 
 72
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act III. Sc. ii. 
 
 Sir And. Will either of you bear me a challenge to 
 him? 
 
 Sir To. Go, write it in a martial hand ; be curst and 
 brief ; it is no matter how witty, so it be eloquent 
 and full of invention : taunt him with the license 
 of ink : if thou thou 'st him some thrice, it shall 
 not be amiss ; and as many lies as will lie in 
 thy sheet of paper, although the sheet were big 
 enough for the bed of Ware in England, set 'em 
 down : go, about it. Let there be gall enough in 50 
 thy ink, though thou write with a goose-pen, no 
 matter : about it. 
 
 Sir And. Where shall I find you ? 
 
 Sir To. We '11 call thee at the cubiculo : go. 
 
 [E.rit S~ir Andrew. 
 
 Fab. This is a dear manakin to you, Sir Toby. 
 
 Sir To. I have been dear to him, lad, some two 
 thousand strong, or so. 
 
 Fab. W r e shall have a rare letter from him : but 
 you '11 not deliver 't? 
 
 Sir To. Never trust me, then ; and by all means 60 
 stir on the youth to an answer. I think oxen 
 and wainropes cannot hale them together. For 
 Andrew, if he were opened, and you find so 
 much blood in his liver as will clog the foot of a 
 flea, I '11 eat the rest of the anatomy. 
 
 Fab. And his opposite, the youth, bears in his visage 
 no great presage of cruelty. 
 
 Enter Maria. 
 
 Sir To. Look, where the youngest wren of nine 
 comes. 
 
 73
 
 Act III. Sc. Hi. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Mar. If you desire the spleen, and will laugh your- 70 
 selves into stitches, follow me. Yond gull 
 Malvolio is turned heathen, a very renegado; 
 for there is no Christian, that means to be saved 
 by believing rightly, can ever believe such im- 
 possible passages of grossness. He 's in yellow 
 stockings. 
 
 Sir To. And cross-gartered ? 
 
 Mar. Most villanously ; like a pedant that keeps 
 a school i' the church. I have dogged him, 
 like his murderer. He does obey every point 80 
 of the letter that I dropped to betray him : he 
 does smile his face into more lines than is in 
 the new map with the augmentation of the 
 Indies : you have not seen such a thing as 'tis. 
 I can hardly forbear hurling things at him. I 
 know my lady will strike him : if she do, he '11 
 smile and take 't for a great favour. 
 
 Sir To. Come, bring us, bring us where he is. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 A street. 
 Enter Sebastian and Antonio. 
 
 Seb. I would not by my will have troubled you ; 
 
 But, since you make your pleasure of your pains, 
 I will no further chide you. 
 
 Ant. I could not stay behind you: my desire, 
 
 More sharp than filed steel, did spur me forth ; 
 And not all love to see you, though so much 
 As might have drawn one to a longer voyage, 
 But jealousy what might befall your travel, 
 
 74
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act III. Sc. Hi. 
 
 Being skilless in these parts ; which to a stranger, 
 Unguided and unfriended, often prove 10 
 
 Rough and unhospitable : my willing love, 
 The rather by these arguments of fear, 
 Set forth in your pursuit. 
 
 Seb. My kind Antonio, 
 
 I can no other answer make but thanks, 
 And thanks ; and ever [thanks, and] oft good turns 
 Are shuffled off with such uncurrent pay : 
 But, were my worth as is my conscience firm, 
 You should find better dealing. What 's to do ? 
 Shall we go see the reliques of this town ? 
 
 Ant. To-morrow, sir : best first go see your lodging. 20 
 
 Seb. I am not weary, and 'tis long to night : 
 I pray you, let us satisfy our eyes 
 With the memorials and the things of fame 
 That do renown this city. 
 
 Ant. Would you 'Id pardon me ; 
 
 I do not without danger walk these streets : 
 Once, in a sea-fight, 'gainst the count his galleys 
 I did some service ; of such note indeed, 
 That were I ta'en here it would scarce be answered. 
 
 Seb. Belike you slew great number of his people. 
 
 Ant. The offence is not of such a bloody nature ; 30 
 
 Albeit the quality of the time and quarrel 
 Might well have given us bloody argument. 
 It might have since been answer'd in repaying 
 What we took from them ; which, for traffic's sake, 
 Most of our city did : only myself stood out ; 
 For which, if I be lapsed in this place, 
 I shall pay dear. 
 
 Seb. Do not then walk too open.
 
 Act III. Sc. iv. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Ant. It doth not fit me. Hold, sir, here 's my purse. 
 
 In the south suburbs, at the Elephant, 
 
 Is best to lodge : I will bespeak our diet, 40 
 
 Whiles you beguile the time and feed your knowledge 
 
 With viewing of the town : there shall you have me. 
 Seb. Why 1 your purse ? 
 Ant. Haply your eye shall light upon some toy 
 
 You have desire to purchase ; and your store, 
 
 I think, is not for idle markets, sir. 
 Scb. I '11 be your purse-bearer and leave you 
 
 For an hour. 
 
 Ant. To die Elephant. 
 
 Scb. I do remember. [E.rennt. 
 
 Scene IV. 
 
 Olivia's garden. 
 Enter Olivia and Maria. 
 
 OH. I have sent after him : he says he '11 come : 
 
 How shall I feast him ? what bestow of him ? 
 
 For youth is bought more oft than begg'd or bor- 
 row'd. 
 
 I speak too loud. 
 
 Where is Malvolio ? he is sad and civil, 
 
 And suits well for a servant with my fortunes : 
 
 Where is Malvolio ? 
 Mar. He 's coming, madam ; but in very strange 
 
 manner. He is, sure, possessed, madam. 
 OH. Why, what 's the matter? does he rave? 10 
 
 Mar. No, madam, he does nothing but smile: your 
 
 ladyship were best to have some guard about 
 
 you, if he come; for, sure, the man is tainted 
 
 in 's wits. 
 
 76
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act III. Sc. iv. 
 
 OH. Go call him hither. [Exit Maria.} I am as mad 
 
 as he, 
 If sad and merry madness equal be. 
 
 Re-enter Maria, with Malvolio. 
 
 How now, Malvolio ! 
 
 MaL Sweet lady, ho, ho. 
 
 OH. Smilest thou ? 
 
 I sent for thee upon a sad occasion. 20 
 
 Mai. Sad, lady ? I could be sad : this does make 
 some obstruction in the blood,- this cross- 
 gartering'; but what of that? if it please the 
 eye of one, it is with me as the very true sonnet 
 is, ' Please one, and please all.' 
 
 OH. Why, how dost thou, man? what is the matter 
 with thee ? 
 
 Mai. Not black in my mind, though yellow in my 
 legs. It did come to his hands, and commands 
 shall be executed : I think we do know the 30 
 sweet Roman hand. 
 
 OIL Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio? 
 
 Mai. To bed ! ay, sweet-heart, and I '11 come to 
 thee. 
 
 OIL God comfort thee! Why dost thou smile so 
 and kiss thy hand so oft ? 
 
 Mar. How do you, Malvolio ? 
 
 MaL At your request ! yes ; nightingales answer 
 daws. 
 
 Mar. Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness 40 
 before my lady ? 
 
 MaL ' Be not afraid of greatness ' : 'twas well writ. 
 
 OIL What meanest thou by that, Malvolio ? 
 
 77
 
 Act III. Sc. iv. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Mai. ' Some are born great/ 
 
 OH. Ha! 
 
 Mai. ' Some achieve greatness,' 
 
 OH. What sayest thou ? 
 
 Mai. ' And some have greatness thrust upon them.' 
 
 OH. Heaven restore thee ! 
 
 Mai. ' Remember who commended thy yellow 50 
 
 stockings/ 
 
 OH. Thy yellow stockings ! 
 Mai. ' And wished to see thee cross-gartered/ 
 OH. Cross-gartered! 
 Mai. ' Go to, thou art made, if thou desirest to be 
 
 so'; 
 
 OH. Am I made? 
 
 Mai. ' If not, let me see thee a servant still.' 
 OH. Why, this is very midsummer madness. 
 
 Enter servant. 
 
 Ser. Madam, the young gentleman of the Count 60 
 Orsino's is returned: I could hardly en- 
 treat him back: he attends your ladyship's 
 pleasure. 
 
 OH. I '11 come to him. [Exit Servant.] Good 
 Maria, let this fellow be looked to. Where's 
 my cousin Toby? Let some of my people 
 have a special care of him : I would not have 
 him miscarry for the half of my dowry. 
 
 [Exeunt Olivia and Maria. 
 
 Mai. O, ho ! do you come near me now ? no worse 
 
 man than Sir Toby to look to me ! This concurs 70 
 directly with the letter : she sends him on purpose, 
 that I may appear stubborn to him ; for she incites 
 
 78
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act III. Sc. iv. 
 
 me to that in the letter. ' Cast thy humble slough,' 
 says she ; ' be opposite with a kinsman, surly 
 with servants ; let thy tongue tang with argu- 
 ments of state ; put thyself into the trick of 
 singularity ; ' and consequently sets down the 
 manner how ; as, a sad face, a reverend carriage, 
 a slow tongue, in the habit of some sir of note, 
 and so forth. I have limed her ; but it is Jove's 80 
 doing, and Jove make me thankful ! And when 
 she went away now, ' Let this fellow be looked 
 to : ' fellow ! not Malvolio, nor after my degree, 
 but fellow. Why, every thing adheres together, 
 that no dram of a scruple, no scruple of a scruple, 
 no obstacle,no incredulous or unsafe circumstance 
 What can be said? Nothing that can be can 
 come between me and the full prospect of my 
 hopes. Well, Jove, not I, is the doer of this, 
 and he is to be thanked. 90 
 
 Re-enter Maria, with Sir Toby and Fabian. 
 
 Sir To. Which way is he, in the name of sanctity ? 
 If all the devils of hell be drawn in little, and 
 Legion himself possessed him, yet I '11 speak to 
 him. 
 
 Fab. Here he is, here he is. How is 't with you, sir ? 
 how is 't with you, man ? 
 
 Mai. Go off ; I discard you: let me enjoy my pri- 
 vate : go off. 
 
 Mar. Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him ! 
 
 did not I tell you? Sir Toby, my lady prays 100 
 you to have a care of him. 
 
 Mai. Ah, ha ! does she so ? 
 
 79
 
 Act III. Sc. iv. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Sir To. Go to, go to ; peace, peace ; we must deal 
 gently with him ; let me alone. How do you, 
 Malvolio ? how is 't with you ? What, man ! 
 defy the devil : consider, he 's an enemy to 
 mankind. 
 
 Mai. Do you know what you say ? 
 
 Mar. La you, an you speak ill of the devil, how he 
 
 takes it at heart! Pray God, he be not be- no 
 witched ! 
 
 Fab. Carry his water to the wise woman. 
 
 Mar. Marry, and it shall be done to-morrow morn- 
 ing, if I live. My lady would not lose him for 
 more than I '11 say. 
 
 Mai. How now, mistress ! 
 
 Mar. O Lord ! 
 
 Sir To. Prithee, hold thy peace ; this is not the way : 
 do you not see you move him? let me alone 
 with him. 120 
 
 Fab. No way but gentleness ; gently, gently : the 
 fiend is rough, and will not be roughly used. 
 
 Sir To. Why, how now, my bawcock ! how dost 
 thou, chuck? 
 
 Mai. Sir! 
 
 Sir To. Ay, Biddy, come with me. What, man ! 'tis 
 not for gravity to play at cherry-pit with Satan : 
 hang him, foul collier ! 
 
 Mar. Get him to say his prayers, good Sir Toby, get 
 
 him to pray. 130 
 
 Mai. My prayers, minx ! 
 
 Mar. No, I warrant you, he will not hear of godli- 
 ness. 
 
 Mai. Go, hang yourselves all! you are idle shallow 
 
 80
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act III. Sc. iv. 
 
 things: I am not of your element: you shall 
 know more hereafter. [Exit. 
 
 Sir To. Is 't possible ? 
 
 Fab. If this were played upon a stage now, I could 
 condemn it as an improbable fiction. 
 
 Sir To. His very genius hath taken the infection of 140 
 the device, man. 
 
 Mar. Nay, pursue him now, lest the device take air 
 and taint. 
 
 Fab. Why, we shall make him mad indeed. 
 
 Mar. The house will be the quieter. 
 
 Sir To. Come, we '11 have him in a dark room and 
 bound. My niece is already in the belief that 
 he 's mad : we may carry it thus, for our pleas- 
 ure and his penance, till our very pastime, tired 
 out of breath, prompt us to have mercy on him : 1 50 
 at which time we will bring the device to the bar 
 and crown thee for a finder of madmen. But 
 see, but see. 
 
 Enter Sir Andrew. 
 
 Fab, More matter for a May morning. 
 
 Sir And. Here 's the challenge, read it : I warrant 
 
 there 's vinegar and pepper in 't. 
 Fab. Is 't so saucy ? 
 
 Sir And. Ay, is 't, I warrant him : do but read. 
 Sir To. Give me. [Reads] Youth, whatsoever thou 
 
 art, thou art but a scurvy fellow. 160 
 
 Fab. Good, and valiant. 
 Sir To. [Reads] Wonder not, nor admire not in thy 
 
 mind, why I do call thee so, for I will show 
 
 thee no reason for 't. 
 
 81
 
 Act III. Sc. iv. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Fab. A good note ; that keeps you from the blow of 
 the law. 
 
 Sir To. [Reads] Thou comest to the lady Olivia, and 
 in my sight she uses thee kindly : but thou liest 
 in thy throat ; that is not the matter I challenge 
 thee for. 170 
 
 Fab. Very brief, and to exceeding good sense less. 
 
 Sir To. [Reads] I will waylay thee going home; 
 where if it be thy chance to kill me, 
 
 Fab. Good. 
 
 Sir To. [Reads] Thou killest me like a rogue and a 
 villain. 
 
 Fab. Still you keep o' the windy side of the law : 
 good. 
 
 Sir To. [Reads] Fare thee well ; and God have mercy 
 
 upon one of our souls ! He may have mercy 180 
 upon mine ; but my hope is better, and so 
 look to thyself. Thy friend, as thou usest him, 
 and thy sworn enemy, ANDREW AGUECHEEK. 
 If this letter move him not, his legs cannot : 
 I '11 give 't him. 
 
 Mar. You may have very fit occasion for 't : he is 
 now in some commerce with my lady, and will 
 by and by depart. 
 
 Sir To. Go, Sir Andrew ; scout me for him at the 
 
 corner of the orchard like a bum-baily : so soon 190 
 as ever thou seest him, draw ; and, as thou 
 drawest, swear horrible ; for it comes to pass 
 oft that a terrible oath, with a swaggering accent 
 sharply twanged off, gives manhood more ap- 
 probation than ever proof itself would have 
 earned him. Away! 
 
 82
 
 OR. WHAT YOU WILL Act III. Sc. iv. 
 
 Sir And. Nay, let me alone for swearing. [E.rit. 
 
 Sir To. Now will not I deliver his letter : for the 
 behaviour of the young gentleman gives him out 
 to be of good capacity and breeding ; his em- 200 
 ployment between his lord and my niece con- 
 firms no less : therefore this letter, being so ex- 
 cellently ignorant, will breed no terror in the 
 youth : he will find it comes from a clodpole. 
 But, sir, I will deliver his challenge by word of 
 mouth ; set upon Aguecheek a notable report of 
 valour; and drive the gentleman, as I know his 
 youth will aptly receive it, into a most hideous 
 opinion of his rage, skill, fury and impetuosity. 
 This will so fright them both, that they will kill 210 
 one another by the look, like cockatrices. 
 
 Re-enter Olivia, with Viola. 
 
 Fab. Here he comes with your niece : give them 
 
 way till he take leave, and presently after 
 
 him. 
 Sir To. I will meditate the while upon some horrid 
 
 message for a challenge. 
 
 [Exeunt Sir Toby, Fabian, and Maria. 
 OIL I have said too much unto a heart of stone, 
 
 And laid mine honour too unchary out : 
 
 There 's something in me that reproves my fault ; 
 
 But such a headstrong potent fault it is, 220 
 
 That it but mocks reproof. 
 Vio. With the same 'haviour that your passion bears 
 
 Goes on my master's grief. 
 OH. Here, wear this jewel for me, 'tis my picture; 
 
 Refuse it not ; it hath no tongue to vex you ; 
 
 83
 
 Act III. Sc. iv. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 And I beseech you come again to-morrow. 
 
 What shall you ask of me that I '11 deny, 
 
 That honour saved may upon asking give ? 
 Vio. Nothing but this ; your true love for my master. 
 OH. How with mine honour may I give him that 230 
 
 Which I have given to you ? 
 
 Vio. I will acquit you. 
 
 Oli. Well, come again to-morrow : fare thee well : 
 
 A fiend like thee might bear my soul to hell. [Exit. 
 
 Re-enter Sir Toby and Fabian. 
 
 Sir To. Gentleman, God save thee. 
 
 Vio. And you, sir. 
 
 Sir To. That defence thou hast, betake thee to 't : 
 of what nature the wrongs are thou hast done 
 him I know not ; but thy intercepter, full of 
 despite, bloody as the hunter, attends thee at the 
 orchard-end : dismount thy tuck, be yare in thy 240 
 preparation, for thy assailant is quick, skilful 
 and deadly. 
 
 Vio. You mistake, sir ; I am sure no man hath any 
 quarrel to me: my remembrance is very free 
 and clear from any image of offence done to any 
 man. 
 
 Sir To. You '11 find it otherwise, I assure you : there- 
 fore, if you hold your life at any price, betake 
 you to your guard; for your opposite hath in 
 him what youth, strength, skill and wrath can 2*50 
 furnish man withal. 
 
 Vio. I pray you, sir, what is he? 
 
 Sir To. He is knight, dubbed with unhatched rapier 
 and on carpet consideration ; but he is a devil in 
 
 84
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act III. Sc. iv. 
 
 private brawl : souls and bodies hath he divorced 
 three ; and his incensement at this moment is so 
 implacable, that satisfaction can be none but by 
 pangs of death and sepulchre. Hob, nob, is his 
 word ; give 't or take 't. 
 
 Vio. I will return again into the house and desire 260 
 some conduct of the lady. I am no fighter. I 
 have heard of some kind of men that put quar- 
 rels purposely on others, to taste their valour : 
 belike this is a man of that quirk. 
 
 Sir To. Sir, no ; his indignation derives itself out of 
 a very competent injury: therefore, get you on 
 and give him his desire. Back you shall not to 
 the house, unless you undertake that with me 
 which with as much safety you might answer 
 him: therefore, on, or strip your sword stark 270 
 naked ; for meddle you must, that 's certain, or 
 forswear to wear iron about you. 
 
 Vio. This is as uncivil as strange. I beseech you, 
 do me this courteous office, as to know of the 
 knight what my offence to him is : it is some- 
 thing of my negligence, nothing of my purpose. 
 
 Sir To. I will do so. Signior Fabian, stay you by 
 
 this gentleman till my return. [Exit. 
 
 Vio. Pray you, sir, do you know of this matter ? 
 
 Fab. I know the knight is incensed against you, even 280 
 to a mortal arbitrement ; but nothing of the 
 circumstance more. 
 
 Vio. I beseech you, what manner of man is he ? 
 
 Fab. Nothing of that wonderful promise, to read 
 him by his form, as you are like to find him in 
 the proof of his valour. He is, indeed, sir, the 
 
 85
 
 Act III. Sc. iv. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 most skilful, bloody and fatal opposite that you 
 could possibly have found in any part of Illyria. 
 Will you walk towards him? I will make your 
 peace with him if I can. 290 
 
 Vio. I shall be much bound to you for 't : I am one 
 that had rather go with sir priest than sir 
 knight : I care not who knows so much of my 
 mettle. [Exeunt. 
 
 Re-enter Sir Toby, u'ith Sir Andrew. 
 
 Sir To. Why, man, he 's a very devil ; I have not 
 seen such a firago. I had a pass with him, rapier, 
 scabbard and all, and he gives me the stuck in 
 with such a mortal motion, that it is inevitable ; 
 and on the answer, he pays you as surely as 
 your feet hit the ground they step on. They 300 
 say he has been fencer to the Sophy. 
 
 Sir And. Pox on 't, I '11 not meddle with him. 
 
 Sir To. Ay, but he will not now be pacified : Fabian 
 can scarce hold him yonder. 
 
 Sir And. Plague on 't, an I thought he had been 
 valiant and so cunning in fence, I 'Id have seen 
 him damned ere I 'Id have challenged him. Let 
 him let the matter slip, and I '11 give him my 
 horse, grey Capilet. 
 
 Sir To. I'll make the motion: stand here, make a 310 
 good show on 't : this shall end without the 
 perdition of souls. [Aside] Marry, I '11 ride 
 your horse as well as I ride you. 
 
 Re-enter Fabian and Viola. 
 
 [To Fab.] I have his horse to take up the quarrel : I 
 have persuaded him the youth 's a devil. 
 
 86
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act III. Sc. iv. 
 
 Fab. He is as horribly conceited of him ; and pants 
 and looks pale, as if a bear were at his heels. 
 
 Sir To. [ To Vio. ] There 's no remedy, sir ; he will 
 fight with you for 's oath sake : marry, he hath 
 better bethought him of his quarrel, and he 320 
 finds that now scarce to be worth talking of: 
 therefore draw, for the supportance of his vow ; 
 he protests he will not hurt you. 
 
 Vio. [aside} Pray God defend me! a little thing 
 would make me tell them how much I lack of a 
 man. 
 
 Fab. Give ground, if you see him furious. 
 
 Sir To. Come, Sir Andrew, there 's no remedy ; the 
 gentleman will, for his honour's sake, have one 
 bout with you; he cannot by the duello avoid 
 it : but he has promised me, as he is a gentleman 330 
 and a soldier, he will not hurt you. Come on ; 
 to't. 
 
 Sir And. Pray God, he keep his oath ! 
 
 Vio. I do assure you, 'tis against my will. [ They draw. 
 
 Enter Antonio. 
 
 Ant. Put up your sword. If this young gentleman 
 Have done offence, I take the fault on me : 
 If you offend him, I for him defy you. 
 Sir To. You, sir ! why, what are you ? 
 Ant. One, sir, that for his love dares yet do more 
 
 Than you have heard him brag to you he will. 340 
 Sir To. Nay, if you be an undertaker, I am for you. 
 
 [They draw. 
 Enter Officers. 
 
 Fab. O good Sir Toby, hold ! here come the officers. 
 Sir To. I '11 be with you anon. 
 
 87
 
 Act III. Sc. iv. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Vio. Pray, sir, put your sword up, if you please. 
 Sir And. Marry, will I, sir; and, for that I promised 
 
 you, I '11 be as good as my word : he will bear 
 
 you easily and reins well. 
 First Off. This is the man ; do thy office, 
 Sec. Off. Antonio, I arrest thee at the suit of Count 
 
 Orsino. 350 
 
 Ant. You do mistake me, sir. 
 First Off. No, sir, no jot; I know your favour well, 
 
 Though now you have no sea-cap on your head. 
 
 Take him away : he knows I know him well. 
 Ant. I must obey. [To Vio.} This comes with seeking 
 
 you: 
 
 But there 's no remedy ; I shall answer it. 
 
 What will you do, now my necessity 
 
 Makes me to ask you for my purse ? It grieves me 
 
 Much more for what I cannot do for you 
 
 Than what befalls myself. You stand amazed ; 360 
 
 But be of comfort. 
 
 Sec. Off. Come, sir, away. 
 
 Ant. I must entreat of you some of that money. 
 
 Vio. What money, sir? 
 
 For the fair kindness you have show'd me here, 
 And, part, being prompted by your present trouble, 
 Out of my lean and low ability 
 I '11 lend you something : my having is not much ; 
 I '11 make division of my present with you : 
 Hold, there 's half my coffer. 
 
 Ant. Will you deny me now? 370 
 
 Is 't possible that my deserts to you 
 Can lack persuasion ? Do not tempt my misery, 
 Lest that it make me so unsound a man
 
 OR. WHAT YOU WILL Act III. Sc. iv. 
 
 As to upbraid you with those kindnesses 
 
 That I have done for you. 
 Vio. I know of none ; 
 
 Nor know I you by voice or any feature : 
 
 I hate ingratitude more in a man 
 
 Than lying vainness, babbling drunkenness, 
 
 Or any taint of vice whose strong corruption 
 
 Inhabits our frail blood. 
 
 Ant. O heavens themselves ! 380 
 
 Sec. Off. Come, sir, I pray you, go. 
 Ant. Let me speak a little. This youth that you see here 
 
 I snatch'd one half out of the jaws of death ; 
 
 Relieved him with such sanctity of love ; 
 
 And to his image, which methought did promise 
 
 Most venerable worth, did I devotion. 
 First Off. What 's that to us ! The time goes by : away ! 
 Ant. But O how vile an idol proves this god! 
 
 Thou hast, Sebastian, done good feature shame. 
 
 In nature there 's no blemish but the mind ; 390 
 
 None can be call'd deform'd but the unkind : 
 
 Virtue is beauty ; but the beauteous evil 
 
 Are empty trunks, o'erflourish'd by the devil. 
 First Off. The man grows mad: away with him! Come, 
 
 come, sir. 
 
 Ant. Lead me on. [Exit zvith Officers. 
 
 Vio. Methinks his words do from such passion fly, 
 
 That he believes himself : so do not I. 
 
 Prove true, imagination, O prove true, 
 
 That I, dear brother, be now ta'en for you ! 
 Sir To. Come hither, knight ; come hither, Fabian : 400 
 
 we '11 whisper o'er a couplet or two of most sage 
 
 saws. 
 
 89
 
 Act IV. Sc. i. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Vio. He named Sebastian : I my brother know 
 Yet living in my glass ; even such and so 
 In favour was my brother, and he went 
 Still in this fashion, colour, ornament, 
 For him I imitate : O, if it prove 
 Tempests are kind and salt waves fresh in love ! 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 Sir To. A very dishonest paltry boy, and more a 
 
 coward than a hare: his dishonesty appears in 410 
 leaving his friend here in necessity and denying 
 him ; and for his cowardship, ask Fabian. 
 
 Fab. A coward, a .most devout coward, religious 
 in it. 
 
 Sir And. 'Slid, I '11 after him again and beat him. 
 
 Sir To. Do ; cuff him soundly, but never draw thy 
 sword. 
 
 Sir And. An I do not, [Exit. 
 
 Fab. Come, let 's see the event. 
 
 Sir To. I dare lay any money 'twill be nothing yet. 420 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 ACT FOURTH. 
 Scene I. 
 
 Before Olivia's house. 
 Enter Sebastian and Clown. 
 
 Clo. Will you make me believe that I am not sent 
 
 for you? 
 Seb. Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow : 
 
 Let me be clear of thee. 
 Clo. Well held out, i' faith! No, T do not know 
 
 90
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act IV. Sc. i. 
 
 you ; nor I am not sent to you by my lady, to 
 bid you come speak with her; nor your name 
 is not Master Cesario; nor this is not my nose 
 neither. Nothing that is so is so. 
 
 Seb. I prithee, vent thy folly somewhere else : 10 
 
 Thou know'st not me. 
 
 Clo. Vent my folly ! he has heard that word of some 
 great man and now applies it to a fool. Vent 
 my folly! I am afraid this great lubber, the 
 world, will prove a cockney. I prithee now, 
 ungird thy strangeness and tell me what I shall 
 vent to my lady : shall I vent to her that thou 
 art coming ? 
 
 Seb. I prithee, foolish Greek, depart from me : 
 
 There 's money for thee : if you tarry longer, 20 
 I shall give worse payment. 
 
 Clo. By my troth, thou hast an open hand. These 
 wise men that give fools money get themselves 
 a good report after fourteen years' purchase. 
 
 Enter Sir Andrew, Sir Toby, and Fabian. 
 
 Sir And. Now, sir, have I met you again ? there 's 
 
 for you. 
 Seb. Why, there 's for thee, and there, and there. 
 
 Are all the people mad ? 
 Sir To. Hold, sir, or I '11 throw your dagger o'er 30 
 
 the house. 
 Clo. This will I tell my lady straight : I would not 
 
 be in some of your coats for two pence. {Exit. 
 
 Sir To. Come on, sir ; hold. 
 Sir And. Nay, let him alone : I '11 go another way
 
 Act IV. Sc. i. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 to work with him ; I '11 have an action of bat- 
 tery against him, if there be any law in Illyria: 
 though I struck him first, yet it 's no matter for 
 that. 
 
 Seb. Let go thy hand. 40 
 
 Sir To. Come, sir, I will not let you go. Come, 
 
 my young soldier, put up your iron: you are 
 
 well fleshed ; come on. 
 Seb. I will be free from thee. What wouldst thou now ? 
 
 If thou darest tempt me further, draw thy sword. 
 Sir To. What, what ? Nay, then I must have an 
 
 ounce or two of this malapert blood from you. 
 
 Enter Olivia. 
 
 OH. Hold, Toby ; on thy life, I charge thee, hold ! 
 
 Sir To. Madam ! 
 
 OIL Will it be ever thus ? Ungracious wretch, 50 
 
 Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves, 
 Where manners ne'er were | preach'd ! out of my sight ! 
 Be not offended, dear Cesario. 
 Rudesby, be gone ! 
 
 [Exeunt Sir Toby, Sir Andrew and Fabian. 
 
 I prithee, gentle friend, 
 Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway 
 In this uncivil and unjust extent 
 Against thy peace. Go with me to my house ; 
 And hear thou there how many fruitless pranks 
 This ruffian hath botch'd up, that thou thereby 
 Mayst smile at this : thou shalt not choose but go : 60 
 Do not deny. Beshrew his soul for me, 
 He started one poor heart of mine in thee. 
 
 Seb. What relish is in this ? how runs the stream ? 
 
 92
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act IV. Sc. ii. 
 
 Or I am mad, or else this is a dream : 
 Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep ; 
 If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep ! 
 
 OIL Nay, come, I prithee : would thou 'Idst be | ruled by me ! 
 
 Seb. Madam, I will. 
 
 OIL O, say so, and so be ! [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 Olivia's house. 
 Enter Maria and Clown. 
 
 Mar. Nay, I prithee, put on this gown and this 
 beard; make him believe thou art Sir Topas 
 the curate : do it quickly ; I '11 call Sir Toby 
 the whilst. [Exit. 
 
 Clo. Well, I '11 put it on, and I will dissemble myself 
 in 't ; and I would I were the first that ever dis- 
 sembled in such a gown. I am not tall enough 
 to become the function well, nor lean enough 
 to be thought a good student ; but to be said an 
 honest man and a good housekeeper goes as 10 
 fairly as to say a careful man and a great 
 scholar. The competitors enter. 
 
 Enter Sir Toby and Maria. 
 
 Sir To. Jove bless thee, master Parson. 
 
 Clo. Bonos dies, Sir Toby : for, as the old hermit of 
 Prague, that never saw pen and ink, very wit- 
 tily said to a niece of King Gorboduc, ' That that 
 is is ' ; so I, being master Parson, am master 
 Parson ; for, what is ' that ' but ' that,' and 'is ' 
 but 'is'? 
 
 93
 
 Act IV. Sc. ii. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Sir To. To him, Sir Topas. 20 
 
 Clo. What, ho, I say ! peace in this prison ! 
 
 Sir To. The knave counterfeits well ; a good knave. 
 
 Mai. [within] Who calls there? 
 
 Clo. Sir Topas the curate, who comes to visit Mal- 
 volio the lunatic. 
 
 Mai. Sir Topas, Sir Topas, good Sir Topas, go to 
 my lady. 
 
 Clo. Out, hyperbolical fiend ! how vexest thou this 
 man ! talkest thou nothing but of ladies ? 
 
 Sir To. Well said, master Parson. 30 
 
 Mai. Sir Topas, never was man thus wronged: 
 good Sir Topas, do not think I am mad : they 
 have laid me here in hideous darkness. 
 
 Clo. Fie, thou dishonest Satan ! I call thee by the 
 most modest terms ; for I am one of those gentle 
 ones that will use the devil himself with cour- 
 tesy : sayest thou that house is dark ? 
 
 Mai. As hell, Sir Topas. 
 
 Clo. Why, it hath bay windows transparent as barri- 
 
 cadoes, and the clearstories toward the south 40 
 north are as lustrous as ebony ; and yet corn- 
 plainest thou of obstruction? 
 
 Mai. I am not mad, Sir Topas : I say to you, this 
 house is dark. 
 
 Clo. Madman, thou errest: I say, there is no dark- 
 ness but ignorance ; in which thou art more 
 puzzled than the Egyptians in their fog. 
 
 Mai. I say, this house is as dark as ignorance, though 
 ignorance were as dark as hell ; and I say, there 
 was never man thus abused. I am no more mad 50 
 than you are : make the trial of it in any constant 
 question. 
 
 94
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act IV. Sc. ii. 
 
 Clo, What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning 
 wild fowl ? 
 
 Mai. That the soul of our grandam might haply in- 
 habit a bird. 
 
 Clo. What thinkest thou of his opinion ? 
 
 Mai. I think nobly of the soul, and 'no way approve 
 his opinion. 
 
 Clo. Fare thee well. Remain thou still in darkness : 
 
 thou shalt hold the opinion of Pythagoras ere I 60 
 will allow of thy wits ; and fear to kill a wood- 
 cock, lest thou dispossess the soul of thy gran- 
 dam. Fare thee well. 
 
 Mai. Sir Topas, Sir Topas ! 
 
 Sir To. My most exquisite Sir Topas! 
 
 Clo. Nay, I am for all waters. 
 
 Mar. Thou mightst have done this without thy beard 
 and gown : he sees thee not. 
 
 Sir To. To him in thine own voice, and bring me 
 
 word how thou findest him : I would we were 70 
 well rid of this knavery. If he may be con- 
 veniently delivered, I would he were ; for I am 
 now so far in offence with my niece, that I can- 
 not pursue with any safety this sport to the up- 
 shot. Come by and by to my chamber. 
 
 {Exeunt Sir Toby and Maria. 
 
 Clo. [Singing] Hey, Robin, jolly Robin, 
 
 Tell me how thy lady does. 
 
 Mai. Fool, 
 
 Clo. My lady is unkind, perdy. 
 
 Mai. Fool 80 
 
 Clo. Alas, why is she so? 
 
 Mai. Fool, I say, 
 
 95
 
 Act IV. Sc. ii. TWELFTH NIGHT ; 
 
 Clo. She loves another Who calls, ha ? 
 
 Mai. Good fool, as ever thou wilt deserve well at my 
 
 hand, help me to a candle, and pen, ink and 
 
 paper: as I am a gentleman, I will live to be 
 
 thankful to thee for 't. 
 Clo. Master Malvolio! 
 Mai. Ay, good fool. 
 
 Clo. Alas, sir, how fell you besides your five wits? 90 
 Mai. Fool, there was never man so notoriously abused : 
 
 I am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art. 
 Clo. But as well ? then you are mad indeed, if you be 
 
 no better in your wits than a fool. 
 Mai. They have here propertied me; keep me in 
 
 darkness, send ministers to me, asses, and do all 
 
 they can to face me out of my wits. 
 Clo. Advise you what you say ; the minister is here. 
 
 Malvolio, Malvolio, thy wits the heavens re- 
 store ! endeavour thyself to sleep, and leave thy 100 
 
 vain bibble babble. 
 Mai. Sir Topas, 
 Clo. Maintain no words with him, good fellow. 
 
 Who, I, sir? not I, sir. God be wi' you, good 
 
 Sir Topas. Marry, amen. I will, sir, I will. 
 Mai. Fool, fool, fool, I say, 
 Clo. Alas, sir, be patient. What say you, sir ? I am 
 
 shent for speaking to you. 
 Mai. Good fool, help me to some light and some 
 
 paper : I tell thee, I am as well in my wits as any no 
 
 man in Illyria. 
 
 Clo. Well-a-day that you were, sir ! 
 Mai. By this hand, I am. Good fool, some ink, 
 
 paper and light; and convey what I will set 
 
 96
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act IV. Sc. iii. 
 
 down to my lady : it shall advantage thee more 
 than ever the bearing of letter did. 
 Clo. I will help you to 't. But tell me true, are you 
 
 not mad indeed ? or do you but counterfeit ? 
 Mai. Believe me, I am not ; I tell thee true. 
 Clo. Nay, I '11 ne'er believe a madman till I see his 120 
 
 brains. I will fetch you light and paper and ink. 
 Mai. Fool, I '11 requite it in the highest degree : I 
 
 prithee, be gone. 
 Clo. [Singing] I am gone, sir, 
 And anon, sir, 
 I '11 be with you again, 
 In a trice, 
 
 Like to the old vice, 
 Your need to sustain; 
 
 Who, with dagger of lath, 130 
 
 In his rage and his wrath, 
 
 Cries, ah, ha ! to the devil : 
 Like a mad lad, 
 Pare thy nails, dad ; 
 
 Adieu, goodman devil. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 Olivia's garden. 
 Enter Sebastian. 
 
 Seb. This is the air ; that is the glorious sun ; 
 
 This pearl she gave me, I do feel 't and see 't ; 
 And though 'tis wonder that enwraps me thus, 
 Yet 'tis not madness. Where 's Antonio, then ? 
 I could not find him at the Elephant : 
 Yet there he was ; and there I found this credit, 
 
 97
 
 Act IV. Sc. iii. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 That he did range the town to seek me out. 
 
 His counsel now might do me golden service ; 
 
 For though my soul disputes well with my sense, 
 
 That this may be some error, but no madness, 10 
 
 Yet doth this accident and flood of fortune 
 
 So far exceed all instance, all discourse, 
 
 That I am ready to distrust mine eyes 
 
 And wrangle with my reason, that persuades me 
 
 To any other trust but that I am mad, 
 
 Or else the lady 's mad ; yet, if 'twere so, 
 
 She could not sway her house, command her followers, 
 
 Take and give back affairs and their dispatch 
 
 With such a smooth, discreet, and stable bearing 
 
 As I perceive she does : there 's something in 't 20 
 
 That is deceivable. But here the lady comes. 
 
 Enter Olivia and Priest. 
 
 OH. Blame not this haste of mine. If you mean well, 
 Now go with me and with this holy man 
 Into the chantry by ; there, before him, 
 And underneath that consecrated roof, 
 Plight me the full assurance of your faith ; 
 That my most jealous and too doubtful soul 
 May live at peace. He shall conceal it 
 Whiles you are willing it shall come to note, 
 What time we will our celebration keep 30 
 
 According to my birth. What do you say? 
 
 Seb. I '11 follow this good man, and go with you ; 
 And, having sworn truth, ever will be true. 
 
 OH. Then lead the way, good father ; and heavens so shine, 
 That they may fairly note this act of mine ! 
 
 pg [Exeunt.}
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act V. Sc. i. 
 
 ACT FIFTH. 
 
 Scene I. 
 
 Before Olivia's house. 
 Enter Clown and Fabian. 
 
 Fab. Now, as thou lovest me, let me see his letter. 
 Clo. Good Master Fabian, grant me another request. 
 Fab. Any thing. 
 
 Clo. Do not desire to see this letter. 
 Fab. This is, to give a dog, and in recompense desire 
 my dog again. 
 
 Enter Duke, Viola, Curio, and Lords. 
 
 Duke. Belong you to the Lady Olivia, friends ? 
 
 Clo. Ay, sir ; we are some of her trappings. 
 
 Duke. I know thee well : how dost thou, my good 
 
 fellow ? 10 
 
 Clo. Truly, sir, the better for my foes and the worse 
 for my friends. 
 
 Duke. Just the contrary ; the better for thy friends. 
 
 Clo. No, sir, the worse. 
 
 Duke. How can that be? 
 
 Clo. Marry, sir, they praise me and make an ass of 
 me ; now my foes tell me plainly I am an ass : so 
 that by my foes, sir, I profit in the knowledge of 
 myself ; and by my friends I am abused : so that, 
 conclusions to be as kisses, if your four negatives 20 
 make your two affirmatives, why then, the worse 
 for my friends, and the better for my foes. 
 
 Duke. Why, this is excellent. 
 
 99
 
 Act V. Sc. i. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Clo. By my troth, sir, no ; though it please you to be 
 one of my friends. 
 
 Duke. Thou shalt not be the worse for me : there 's 
 gold. 
 
 Clo. But that it would be double-dealing, sir, I 
 would you could make it another. 
 
 Duke. O, you give me ill counsel. 30 
 
 Clo. Put your grace in your pocket, sir, for this once, 
 and let your flesh and blood obey it. 
 
 Duke. Well, I will be so much a sinner, to be a 
 double-dealer : there 's another. 
 
 Clo. Primo, secundo, tertio, is a good play ; and the 
 old saying is, the third pays for all : the triplex, 
 sir, is a good tripping measure ; or the bells of 
 Saint Bennet, sir, may put you in mind ; one, 
 two, three. 
 
 Duke. You can fool no more money out of me at this 40 
 throw : if you will let your lady know I am here 
 to speak with her, and bring her along with you, 
 it may awake my bounty further. 
 
 Clo. Marry, sir, lullaby to your bounty till I come 
 again. I go, sir ; but I would not have you to 
 think that my desire of having is the sin of 
 covetousness : but, as you say, sir, let your 
 bounty take a nap, I will awake it anon. '[Exit. 
 
 Vio. Here comes the man, sir, that did rescue me. 
 
 Enter Antonio and Officers. 
 
 Duke. That face of his I do remember well ; 50 
 
 Yet, when I saw it last, it was besmear'd 
 As black as Vulcan in the smoke of war : 
 A bawbling vessel was he captain of, 
 
 100
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act V. Sc. i. 
 
 For shallow draught and bulk unprizable ; 
 
 With which such scathful gapple did he make 
 
 With the most noble bottom of our fleet, 
 
 That very envy and the tongue of loss 
 
 Cried fame and honour on him. What 's the matter ? 
 
 First Off. Orsino, this is that Antonio 
 
 That took the Phoenix and her fraught from Candy ; 
 And this is he that did the Tiger board, 61 
 
 When your young nephew Titus lost his leg: 
 Here in the streets, desperate of shame and state, 
 In private brabble did we apprehend him. 
 
 Vio. He did me kindness, sir, drew on my side ; 
 
 But in conclusion put strange speech upon me: 
 I know not what 'twas but distraction. 
 
 Duke. Notable pirate! thou salt-water thief! 
 
 What foolish boldness brought thee to their mercies, 
 Whom thou, in terms so bloody and so dear, 70 
 
 Hast made thine enemies? 
 
 Ant. Orsino, noble sir, 
 
 Be pleased that I shake off these names you give me : 
 Antonio never yet was thief or pirate, 
 Though I confess, on base and ground enough, 
 Orsino's enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither : 
 That most ingrateful boy there by your side, 
 From the rude sea's enraged and foamy mouth 
 Did I redeem ; a wreck past hope he was : 
 His life I gave him and did thereto add 
 My love, without retention or restraint, 80 
 
 All his in dedication ; for his sake 
 Did I expose myself, pure for his love, 
 Into the danger of this adverse town ; 
 Drew to defend him when he was beset : 
 101
 
 Act V. Sc. i. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Where being apprehended, his false cunning, 
 Not meaning to partake with me in danger, 
 Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance, 
 And grew a twenty years removed thing 
 While one could wink ; denied me mine own purse, 
 Which I had recommended to his use 90 
 
 Not half an hour before. 
 
 Vio. How can this be? 
 
 Duke. When came he to this town? 
 
 Ant. To-day, my lord ; and for three months before, 
 No interim, not a minute's vacancy, 
 Both day and night did we keep company. 
 
 Enter Olivia and Attendants. 
 
 Duke. Here comes the countess : now heaven walks on 
 earth. 
 
 But for thee, fellow ; fellow, thy words are madness : 
 
 Three months this youth hath tended upon me ; 
 
 But more of that anon. Take him aside. 
 OIL What would my lord, but that he may not have, 100 
 
 Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable? 
 
 Cesario, you do not keep promise with me. 
 Vio. Madam ! 
 Duke. Gracious Olivia, 
 
 OH. What do you say, Cesario ? Good my lord, 
 Vio. My lord would speak ; my duty hushes me. 
 OH. If it be aught to the old tune, my lord, 
 
 It is as fat and fulsome to mine ear 
 
 As howling after music. 
 Duke. Still so cruel ? 
 
 OH. Still so constant, lord. no 
 
 Duke. What, to perverseness ? you uncivil lady, 
 
 102
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act V. Sc. i. 
 
 To whose ing-rate and unauspicious altars, 
 
 My soul the faithfull'st offerings hath breathed out 
 
 That e'er devotion tender'd ! What shall I do ? 
 
 OH. Even what it please my lord, that shall become him. 
 
 Duke. Why should I not, had I the heart to do it, 
 Like to the Egyptian thief at point of death, 
 Kill what I love? a savage jealousy 
 That sometime savours nobly. But hear me this : 
 Since you to non-regardance cast my faith, 120 
 
 And that I partly know the instrument 
 That screws me from my true place in your favour, 
 Live you the marble-breasted tyrant still ; 
 But this your minion, whom I know you love, 
 And whom, by heaven I swear, I tender dearly, 
 Him will I tear out of that cruel eye, 
 Where he sits crowned in his master's spite. 
 Come, boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in mis- 
 chief : 
 
 I '11 sacrifice the lamb that I do love, 
 To spite a raven's heart within a dove. 130 
 
 Vio. And I, most jocund, apt and willingly, 
 
 To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die. 
 
 Oli. Where goes Cesario? 
 
 Vio. After him I love 
 
 More than I love these eyes, more than my life, 
 More, by all mores, than e'er I shall love wife. 
 If I do feign, you witnesses above 
 Punish my life for tainting of my love ! 
 
 Oli. Ay me, detested ! how am I beguiled ! 
 
 Vio. Who does beguile you ? who does do you wrong ? 
 
 Oli. Hast thou forgot thyself? is it so long? 140 
 
 Call forth the holy father. 
 103
 
 Act V. Sc. i. TWELFTH NIGHT : 
 
 Duke. Come, away ! 
 
 Oli. Whither, my lord? Cesario, husband, stay. 
 
 Duke. Husband! 
 
 Oli. Ay, husband : can he that deny ? 
 
 Duke. Her husband, sirrah ! 
 
 Vio. No, my lord, not I. 
 
 Oli. Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear 
 
 That makes thee strangle thy propriety: 
 
 Fear not, Cesario ; take thy fortunes up ; 
 
 Be that thou know'st thou art, and then thou art 
 
 As great as that thou fear'st. 
 
 Enter Priest. 
 
 O, welcome, father! 
 
 Father, T charge thee, by thy reverence, 1 50 
 
 Here to unfold, though lately we intended 
 To keep in darkness what occasion now 
 Reveals before 'tis ripe, what thou dost know 
 Hath newly pass'd between this youth and me. 
 
 Priest. A contract of eternal bond of love, 
 
 Confirm'd by mutual joinder of your hands, 
 
 Attested by the holy close of lips, 
 
 Strengthen'd by interchangement of your rings; 
 
 And all the ceremony of this compact 
 
 Seal'd in my function, by my testimony : 160 
 
 Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my 
 
 grave 
 I have travell'd but two hours. 
 
 Duke. O thou dissembling cub! what wilt thou be 
 When time hath sow'd a grizzle on thy case? 
 Or will not else thy craft so quickly grow, 
 That thine own trip shall be thine overthrow? 
 
 104
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act V. Sc. i. 
 
 Farewell, and take her ; but direct thy feet 
 Where thou and I henceforth may never meet. 
 
 Vio. My lord, I do protest 
 
 Oli. O, do not swear! 
 
 Hold little faith, though thou hast too much fear. 170 
 
 Enter Sir Andrew. 
 
 Sir And. For the love of God, a surgeon ! Send one 
 
 presently to Sir Toby. 
 Oli. What 's the matter ? 
 Sir And. He has broke my head across and has given 
 
 Sir Toby a bloody coxcomb too : for the love of 
 
 God, your help ! I had rather than forty pound 
 
 I were at home. 
 
 Oli. Who has done this, Sir Andrew? 
 Sir And. The count's gentleman, one Cesario: we 
 
 took him for a coward, but he 's the very devil 180 
 
 incardinate. 
 
 Duke. My gentleman, Cesario? 
 Sir And. 'Od's lifelings, here he is ! You broke my 
 
 head for nothing ; and that that I did, I was set 
 
 on to do 't by Sir Toby. 
 Vio. Why do you speak to me ? I never hurt you : 
 
 You drew your sword upon me without cause; 
 
 But I bespake you fair, and hurt you not. 
 Sir And. If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have 
 
 hurt me: I think you set nothing by a bloody 190 
 
 coxcomb. 
 
 Enter Sir Toby and Clown. 
 
 Here comes Sir Toby halting ; you shall hear 
 more : but if he had not been in drink, he would 
 have tickled you other gates than he did. 
 
 105
 
 Act V. Sc. i. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Duke. How now, gentleman ! how is 't with you? 
 Sir To. That 's all one : has hurt me, and there 's the 
 
 end on 't. Sot, didst see Dick surgeon, sot ? 
 Clo. O, he 's drunk, Sir Toby, an hour agone ; his 
 
 eyes were set at eight i' the morning. 
 Sir To. Then he 's a rogue, and a passy measures 200 
 
 pavin : I hate a drunken rogue. 
 Oli. Away with him! Who hath made this havoc 
 
 with them? 
 Sir And. I'll help you, Sir Toby, because we'll be 
 
 dressed together. 
 Sir To. Will you help ? an ass-head and a coxcomb 
 
 and a knave, a thin-faced knave, a gull ! 
 Oli. Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd to. 
 
 [Exeunt Clown, Fabian, Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew. 
 
 Enter Sebastian. 
 
 Seb. I am sorry, madam, I have hurt your kinsman ; 
 
 But, had it been the brother of my blood, 210 
 
 I must have done no less with wit and safety. 
 You throw a strange regard upon me, and by that 
 I do perceive it hath offended you : 
 Pardon me, sweet one, even for the vows 
 We made each other but so late ago. 
 
 Duke. One face, one voice, one habit and two persons, 
 A natural perspective, that is and is not ! 
 
 Scb. Antonio, O my dear Antonio ! 
 
 How have the hours rack'd and tortured me, 
 
 Since I have lost thee ! 220 
 
 Ant. Sebastian are you? 
 
 Seb. Fear'st thou that, Antonio? 
 
 Ant. How have you made division of yourself? 
 
 106
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act V. Sc. i. 
 
 An apple, cleft in two, is not more twin 
 
 Than these two creatures. Which is Sebastian ? 
 
 Oli. Most wonderful ! 
 
 Seb. Do I stand there ? I never had a brother ; 
 Nor can there be that deity in my nature, 
 Of here and every where. I had a sister, 
 Whom the blind waves and surges have devour'd. 
 Of charity, what kin are you to me ? 230 
 
 What countryman ? what name ? what parentage ? 
 
 Vio. Of Messaline : Sebastian was my father ; 
 Such a Sebastian was my brother too, 
 So went he suited to his watery tomb : 
 If spirits can assume both form and suit, 
 You come to fright us. 
 
 Seb. A spirit I am indeed ; 
 
 But am in that dimension grossly clad 
 Which from the womb I did participate. 
 Were you a woman, as the rest goes even, 
 I should my tears let fall upon your cheek, 240 
 
 And say ' Thrice-welcome, drowned Viola ! ' 
 
 Vio. My father had a mole upon his brow. 
 
 Seb. And so had mine. 
 
 Vio. And died that day when Viola from her birth 
 Had number'd thirteen years. 
 
 Seb. O, that record is lively in my soul ! 
 He finished indeed his mortal act 
 That day that made my sister thirteen years. 
 
 Vio. If nothing lets to make us happy both 
 
 But this my masculine usurp'd attire, 250 
 
 Do not embrace me till each circumstance 
 Of place, time, fortune, do cohere and jump 
 That I am Viola : which to confirm, 
 107
 
 Act V. Sc. i. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 I '11 bring you to a captain in this town, 
 
 Where lie my maiden weeds ; by whose gentle help 
 
 I was preserved to serve this noble count. 
 
 All the occurrence of my fortune since 
 
 Hath been between this lady and this lord. 
 
 Seb. [ To Olivia] So comes it, lady, you have been mistook : 
 But nature to her bias drew in that. 260 
 
 You would have been contracted to a maid ; 
 Nor are you therein, by my life, deceived, 
 You are betroth'd both to a maid and man. 
 
 Duke. Be not amazed ; right noble is his blood. 
 If this be so, as yet the glass seems true, 
 I shall have share in this most happy wreck. 
 
 [To Viola} Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times 
 Thou never shouldst love woman like to me. 
 
 Vio. And all those sayings will I over-swear ; 
 
 And all those swearings keep as true in soul 270 
 As doth that orbed continent the fire 
 That severs day from night. 
 
 Duke. Give me thy hand ; 
 
 And let me see thee in thy woman's weeds. 
 
 Vio. The captain that did bring me first on shore 
 Hath my maid's garments : he upon some action 
 Is now in durance, at Malvolio's suit, 
 A gentleman, and follower of my lady's. 
 
 OH. He shall enlarge him : fetch Malvolio hither : 
 And yet, alas, now I remember me, 
 They say, poor gentleman, he 's much distract. 280 
 
 Re-enter Clown with a letter, and Fabian. 
 
 A most extracting frenzy of mine own 
 From my remembrance clearly banish'd his. 
 
 108
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act V. Sc. i. 
 
 How does he, sirrah? 
 
 Clo. Truly, madam, he holds Belzebub at the stave's 
 end as well as a man in his case may do : has 
 here writ a letter to you ; I should have given 't 
 you to-day morning, but as a madman's epistles 
 are no gospels, so it skills not much when they 
 are delivered. 
 
 OIL Open 't and read it. 290 
 
 Clo. Look then to be well edified when the fool delivers 
 the madman. [Reads] By the Lord, madam, 
 
 OIL How now ! art thou mad ? 
 
 Clo. No, madam, I do but read madness: an your 
 ladyship will have it as it ought to be, you must 
 allow Vox. 
 
 OIL Prithee, read i' thy right wits. 
 
 Clo. So I do, madonna ; but to read his right wits is 
 to read thus : therefore perpend, my princess, 
 and give ear. 300 
 
 OIL Read it you, sirrah. [To Fabian. 
 
 Fab. By the Lord, madam, you wrong me, and the 
 world shall know it : though you have put me 
 into darkness and given your drunken cousin 
 rule over me, yet have I the benefit of my senses 
 as well as your ladyship. I have your own let- 
 ter that induced me to the semblance I put on ; 
 with the which I doubt not but to do myself 
 much right, or you much shame. Think of me 
 as you please. I leave my duty a little un- 310 
 thought of, and speak out of my injury. 
 
 THE MADLY-USED MALVOLIO. 
 
 OIL Did he write this? 
 
 109
 
 Act V. Sc. i. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Clo. Ay, madam. 
 
 Duke. This savours not much of distraction. 
 
 Oli. See him deliver'd, Fabian ; bring him hither. 
 
 [Exit Fabian. 
 
 My lord, so please you, these things further thought on, 
 To think me as well a sister as a wife, 
 One day shall crown the alliance on 't, so please you, 
 Here at my house and at my proper cost. 
 
 Duke* Madam, I am most apt to embrace your offer. 320 
 {To Viola\ Your master quits you; and for 
 
 your service done him, 
 So much against the mettle of your sex, 
 So far beneath your soft and tender breeding, 
 And since you call'd me master for so long, 
 Here is my hand : you shall from this time be 
 Your master's mistress. 
 
 Oli. A sister! you are she. 
 
 Re-enter Fabian, with Malvolio. 
 
 Duke. Is this the madman? 
 
 Oli. Ay, my lord, this same. 
 
 How now, Malvolio! 
 
 Mai. Madam, you have done me wrong, 
 
 Notorious wrong. 
 
 Oli. Have I, Malvolio? no. 
 
 Mai. Lady, you have. Pray you, peruse that letter. 330 
 You must not now deny it is your hand : 
 Write from it, if you can, in hand or phrase ; 
 Or say 'tis not your seal, not your invention : 
 You can say none of this : well, grant it then 
 And tell me, in the modesty of honour, 
 Why you have given me such clear lights of favour, 
 
 no
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act V. Sc. i. 
 
 Bade me come smiling- and cross-garter'd to you, 
 To put on yellow stockings and to frown 
 Upon Sir Toby and the lighter people ; 
 And, acting this in an obedient hope, 340 
 
 Why have you suffer'd me to be imprison'd, 
 Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest, 
 And made the most notorious geek and gull 
 That e'er invention play'd on ? tell me why. 
 
 OH. Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing, 
 
 Though, I confess, much like the character : 
 But out of question 'tis Maria's hand. 
 And now I do bethink me, it was she 
 First told me thou wast mad ; then earnest in smiling, 
 And in such forms which here were presupposed 350 
 Upon thee in the letter. Prithee, be content : 
 This practice hath most shrewdly pass'd upon thee ; 
 But when we know the grounds and authors of it, 
 Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge 
 Of thine own cause. 
 
 Fab. Good madam, hear me speak. 
 
 And let no quarrel nor no brawl to come 
 Taint the condition of this present hour, 
 Which I have wonder'd at. In hope it shall not, 
 Most freely I confess, myself and Toby 
 Set this device against Malvolio here, 360 
 
 Upon some stubborn and un courteous parts 
 We had conceived against him : Maria writ 
 The letter at Sir Toby's great importance ; 
 In recompense whereof he hath married her. 
 How with a sportful malice it was follow'd 
 May rather pluck on laughter than revenge ; 
 If that the injuries be justly weigh'd 
 in
 
 Act V. Sc. i. TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 That have on both sides pass'd. 
 
 Oli. Alas, poor fool, how have they baffled thee! 
 
 Clo. Why, ' some are born great, some achieve great- 370 
 ness, and some have greatness thrown upon 
 them.' I was one, sir, in this interlude ; one 
 Sir Topas, sir; but that's all one. 'By the 
 Lord, fool, I am not mad.' But do you remem- 
 ber? ' Madam, why laugh you at such a bar- 
 ren rascal ? an you smile not, he 's gagged ; : 
 and thus the whirligig of time brings in his re- 
 venges. 
 
 Mai. I '11 be revenged on the whole pack of you. [Exit. 
 
 Oli. He hath been most notoriously abused. 
 
 Duke. Pursue him, and entreat him to a peace : 380 
 
 He hath not told us of the captain yet : 
 When that is known, and golden time convents, 
 A solemn combination shall be made 
 Of our dear souls. Meantime, sweet sister, 
 We will not part from hence. Cesario, come ; 
 For so you shall be, while you are a man ; 
 But when in other habits you are seen, 
 Orsino's mistress and his fancy's queen. 
 
 [Exeunt all, except Clown. 
 
 Clo. [Sings'] 
 
 When that I was and a little tiny boy, 
 
 With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, 390 
 
 A foolish thing was but a toy, 
 For the rain it raineth every day. 
 
 But when I came to man's estate, 
 
 With hey, ho, &c. 
 'Gainst knaves and thieves men shut their gate, 
 
 For the rain, &c. 
 
 112
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Act V. Sc. i. 
 
 But when I came, alas ! to wive, 
 
 With hey, ho, &c. 
 By swaggering could I never thrive, 
 
 For the rain, &c. 400 
 
 But when I came unto my beds, 
 
 With hey, ho, &c. 
 With toss-ots still had drunken heads, 
 
 For the rain, &c. 
 
 A great while ago the world begun, 
 
 With hey, ho, &c. 
 But that 's all one, our play is done, 
 
 And we '11 strive to please you every day. [Exit.
 
 TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Glossary. 
 
 Abuse, deceive; III. i. 120. 
 Accosted, addressed; III. ii. 20. 
 A degree, one step ; III. i. 130. 
 Adheres, accords; III. iv. 84. 
 Admire, wonder; III. iv. 162. 
 Adverse, hostile; V. i. 83. 
 Advise you, take care; IV. ii. 
 
 98. 
 Affectioned, affected; II. iii. 
 
 153- 
 
 Agone, ago; V. i. 198. 
 
 Allowed, licensed; I. v. 96. 
 
 Allow me, make me acknowl- 
 edged ; I. ii. 59. 
 
 Alone, pre-eminently ; I. i. 15. 
 
 An = one ; II. i. 19. 
 
 Anatomy, body; used con- 
 temptuously; III. ii. 65. 
 
 And; used redundantly, as in 
 the old ballads; V. i. 389. 
 
 Antique, quaint; II. iv. 3. 
 
 Apt, ready ; V. i. 320. 
 
 Arbitrement, decision; III. iv. 
 281. 
 
 Argument, proof; III. ii. 10. 
 
 As yet, still ; V. i. 265. 
 
 Attends, awaits ; III. iv. 239. 
 
 Back-trick, a caper backwards ; 
 
 I. iii. 124. 
 Baffled, treated with contempt ; 
 
 V. i. 369- 
 Barful, full of impediments ; 
 
 ( Pope, " O baneful " ; Daniel, 
 
 "a woeful") ; I. iv. 41. 
 
 Barren, dull ; I. v. 85. 
 Barricadoes, fortifications made 
 in haste, obstructions ; IV. ii. 
 
 39- 
 
 Bazt'bling, insignificant, trifling ; 
 V. i. 53- 
 
 Baivcock, a term of endear- 
 ment ; always used in mascu- 
 line sense; III. iv. 123. 
 
 Beagle, a small dog; II. iii. 
 185. 
 
 Before me, by my soul ; II. iii. 
 184. 
 
 Belike, I suppose; III. iii. 29. 
 
 Bent, tension; II. iv. 38. 
 
 Bcshrczv, a mild form of im- 
 precation ; IV. i. 61. 
 
 Besides, out of; IV. ii. 90. 
 
 Bespoke you fair, spoke kindly 
 to you ; V. i. 188. 
 
 Bias, originally the weighted 
 side of a bowl ; V. i. 260. 
 
 Bibble babble, idle talk; IV. ii. 
 101. 
 
 Biddy, " a call to allure chick- 
 ens "; III. iv. 126. 
 
 Bird-bolts, blunt-headed ar- 
 rows ; I. v. 95. 
 
 Blazon, " coat-of-arms " ; I. v. 
 303. 
 
 Blent = blended ; I. v. 248. 
 
 Bloody, bloodthirsty; III. iv. 
 239- 
 
 Blows, inflates, puffs up ; II. v. 
 45- 
 
 114
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL 
 
 Glossary 
 
 Bosom, the folds of the dress 
 covering the breast, stomach- 
 er; III. i. 128. 
 
 Botcher, mender of old clothes ; 
 I. v. 46. 
 
 Bottle-ale, bottled ale; II. iii. 
 29. 
 
 Bottom, ship, vessel ; V. i. 56. 
 
 Brabble, brawl, broil ; V. i. 64. 
 
 Branched, " adorned with 
 needle - work, representing 
 flowers and twigs " ; II. v. 49. 
 
 Breach, surf; II. i. 22. 
 
 Breast, voice ; II. iii. 20. 
 
 Bred, begotten ; I. ii. 22. 
 
 Brock, badger, a term of con- 
 tempt; II. v. 106. 
 
 Brownist, a member of a Puri- 
 tan sect; III. ii. 31. 
 
 Bum-baily, bailiff; III. iv. 190. 
 
 But = than ; I. iv. 13. 
 
 Buttery-bar; buttery, place 
 where drink and food were 
 kept ; bar, place where they 
 were served out; I. iii. 71. 
 
 Buttery-bar, Christ Church, Oxford. 
 
 By the duello, by the laws of 
 duelling; III. iv. 329. 
 
 Canary, wine from the Canary 
 Isles; I. iii. 81. 
 
 Cantons = cantos ; I. v. 280. 
 
 Case, body, skin ; V. i. 164. 
 
 Castiliano vulgo ; " Spanish of 
 Sir Toby's own making," 
 perhaps it may mean, " Be as 
 reticent as a Castilian now 
 that one of the common herd 
 is coming " ; I. iii. 44. 
 
 Cataian, Chinese ; used here as 
 a term of reproach; II. iii. 
 77- 
 
 Catch, " a song sung in succes- 
 sion " ; II. iii. 18. 
 
 Chain, the chain of office which 
 stewards were accustomed to 
 wear ; II. iii. 124. 
 
 Chantry, a private chapel ; IV. 
 iii. 24. 
 
 Checks; " to check " is " a term 
 in falconry, applied to a hawk 
 when she forsakes her proper 
 game, and follows some other 
 of inferior kind that crosses 
 her in her flight "; II. v. 116; 
 III. i. 69. 
 
 Cherry-pit, " a game consisting 
 in pitching cherry-stones into 
 a small hole " ; III. iv. 127. 
 
 Cheveril, roe-buck leather ; 
 symbol of flexibility; III. i. 
 13- 
 
 Chuck, chicken, a term of en- 
 dearment ; III. iv. 124. 
 
 Civil, polite, well-mannered : 
 III. iv. 5. 
 
 Clodpole, blockhead ; III. iv. 
 208. 
 
 Cloistress, inhabitant of a clois- 
 ter, nun ; I. i. 28. 
 
 Cloyment, surfeit; II. iv. 101. 
 
 "5
 
 Glossary 
 
 TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Cockatrice, an imaginary crea- 
 ture, supposed to be produced 
 from a cock's egg. and to have 
 so deadly an eye as to kill 
 by its very look; III. iv. 211. 
 
 Collier; " the devil was called 
 so because of his blackness " ; 
 cp. the proverb : " like will to 
 like, quoth the devil to the 
 collier" ; III. iv. 128. 
 
 Colours; " fear no colours," 
 fear no enemy: I v. 6. 
 
 Comfortable, comforting; I. v. 
 232. 
 
 Commerce, conversation ; III. 
 iv. 187. 
 
 Compare, comparison; II. iv 
 103. 
 
 Competitors, confederates ; IV. 
 li. 12. 
 
 Complexion, external appear 
 ance ; 11 . iv. 26. 
 
 Comptible, sensitive; I. v. 181. 
 
 Conceited, has formed an idea ; 
 III iv. 316. 
 
 Conclusions to be as kisses, i.e 
 " as in a syllogism it takes 
 two premises to make one 
 conclusion, so it takes two 
 people to make one kiss " 
 (Cambridge edition) ; v. i. 20. 
 
 Conduct, guard, escort: III. iv. 
 260. 
 
 Consequently, subsequently; 
 III. iv. 77. 
 
 Consideration ; " on carpet c." 
 = " a mere carpet knight " ; 
 
 III. iv. 254. 
 
 Constant, consistent, logical ; 
 
 IV. ii. 51. 
 
 Convents, is convenient ; V. i. 
 382. 
 
 Coranto, a quick, lively dance; 
 
 I. iii. 130. 
 
 Couplet, couple; III. iv. 401. 
 
 Coxcomb, head; V. i. 175. 
 
 Coystrill. a mean, paltry fel- 
 low ; I. iii. 41. 
 
 C osiers, botchers, cobblers; II. 
 jii. 92. 
 
 Credit, intelligence; IV. iii. 6 
 
 Cross-gartered; alluding to the 
 custom of wearing the gar 
 ters crossed m various styles; 
 
 II. v. 156. 
 
 Specimens of cross-gvrtenng. 
 
 (a) and (b) Front and baik views of a 
 gentleman's knee, from an early 
 XVIth. century tapestry 
 
 (c) Tartar cross-ga;tering. From a 
 book on costume, published at Ant- 
 werp, 1582. 
 
 Crowner, coroner; I. v. 137. 
 
 Cruelty, cruel one; II. iv. 82. 
 
 Cubiculo (one of Sir Toby's 
 " aff ectioned " words), apart- 
 ment; III. ii. 54. 
 
 116
 
 Glossary 
 
 " Cucullus non facit mona- 
 chunt " = a cowl does not 
 make a monk ; I. v. 57. 
 
 Cunning, skilful ; I. v. 249. 
 
 Curst, sharp, shrewish ; III. ii. 
 
 43- 
 
 Cut, a docked horse ; II. iii. 193. 
 
 Cypress ; probably " a coffin of 
 cypresswood " ; (others ex- 
 plain it as a shroud of cy- 
 press ; Cotgrave mentions 
 white cipres) ; II. iv. 53. 
 
 Cypress, crape (v. Note) ; III. 
 i. 128. 
 
 Dally, play, trifle; III. i. 16. 
 Day-bed, couch, sofa ; II. v. 50. 
 Deadly, death-like ; I. v. 275. 
 Dear, heartfelt; V. i. 70. 
 Deceivable, delusive; IV. iii. 
 
 21. 
 
 Dedication, devotedness : V. i. 
 
 81. 
 Delivered, set at liberty; V. i. 
 
 315. 
 
 Denay, denial; II. iv. 126. 
 
 Deny, refuse; IV. i. 61. 
 
 Desperate, hopeless; II. ii. 8; 
 reckless ; V. i. 63. 
 
 Despite, malice ; III. iv. 239. 
 
 Determinate, fixed ; II. i. 10. 
 
 Dexteriously, dexterously; I. v. 
 61. 
 
 Diluculo surgere (saluberri- 
 mum est), to rise early is 
 most healthful ; II. iii. 2. 
 
 Dimension, bodily shape ; I. v. 
 271 ; V. i. 237. 
 
 Discourse, reasoning; IV. iii. 
 12. 
 
 Dismount, draw from the scab- 
 bard; III. iv. 240. 
 
 Disorders, misconduct ; II. iii. 
 
 100. 
 
 Dissemble, disguise ; IV. ii. 5. 
 Distemper, make ill-humoured ; 
 
 II. i- 5- 
 
 Distempered, diseased ; I. v. 93. 
 Dry, insipid; I. v. 44. 
 
 Egyptian thief; an allusion to 
 Thyamis, a robber chief in 
 the Greek Romance of Thea- 
 genes and Chariclea (trans, 
 into English before 1587) ; 
 the thief attempted to kill 
 Chariclea, whom he loved, 
 rather than lose her ; by mis- 
 take he slew another person ; 
 V. i. 117. 
 
 Element, sky and air, I. i. 26; 
 sphere, III. i. 63. The four 
 elements, i.e. fire, air, water, 
 earth, II. iii. 10. (See illus- 
 tration.) 
 
 From the Myrrour and Dyscrypcyon 
 of the Worlde, with many Jffer- 
 v ay lies (c. 1525). 
 
 Elephant, the name of an inn ; 
 III. iii. 39. 
 
 117
 
 Glossary 
 
 TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Enchantment, love-charm; III. 
 i. 119. 
 
 Encounter, go towards; used 
 affectedly; III. i. 79. 
 
 Endeavour thyself, try; IV. ii. 
 100. 
 
 Enlarge, release ; V. i. 278. 
 
 Entertainment, treatment; I. v. 
 225. 
 
 Estimable wonder, admiring 
 judgment ; II. i. 27. 
 
 Except, before excepted, allu- 
 ding to the common law- 
 phrase; I. iii. 7. 
 
 Expenses, a tip, douceur ; III. 
 i. 48. 
 
 Expressure, expression; II. iii. 
 164. 
 
 Extent, conduct, behaviour ; 
 
 IV. i. 56. 
 
 Extracting (later Folios " ex- 
 acting"), "drawing other 
 thoughts from my mind"; 
 
 V. i. 281. 
 Extravagancy, vagrancy ; II. i. 
 
 ii. 
 
 Fadge, prosper ; II. ii. 34. 
 
 Fall, strain, cadence ; I. i. 4. 
 
 Fancy, love ; I. i. 14 ; V. i. 388. 
 
 Fantastical, fanciful, creative ; 
 I. i. 15- 
 
 ' Farewell, dear heart, since I 
 must needs begone,' etc. ; al- 
 tered from Corydon's Fare- 
 well to Phillis (Percy's Re- 
 liques) ; II. iii. 105. 
 
 Favour, face, form; II. iv. 24; 
 III. iv. 352. 
 
 Feature, external form, body ; 
 III. iv. 389. 
 
 Feelingly, exactly; II. iii. 165. 
 
 Fclloiv, companion ; III. iv. 82. 
 Firago, corruption of virago; 
 
 III. iv. 296. 
 
 Firc-nezv, brand-new ; III. ii. 21. 
 Fit, becoming, suitable; III. i. 
 
 72. 
 Flatter with, encourage with 
 
 hopes; I. v. 313. 
 Fleshed, " made fierce and 
 
 eager for combat, as a dog 
 
 fed with flesh only " ; IV. i. 
 
 43- 
 
 Fond, dote ; II. ii. 35. 
 
 Forgive, excuse; I. v. 200. 
 
 For that, because ; III. i. 161. 
 
 Fourteen years' purchase, i.e. 
 " at a high rate," the current 
 price in Shakespeare's time 
 being twelve years' purchase ; 
 
 IV. i. 24. 
 
 Fraught, freight ; V. i. 60. 
 Free, careless (or perhaps 
 
 graceful, comely ; cp. " fair 
 
 and free") ; II. iv. 46. 
 Fresh in murmur, begun to be 
 
 rumoured ; I. ii. 32. 
 Fright, affright ; V. i. 236. 
 From; " f. Candy," i.e. " on her 
 
 voyage from Candy " ; V. i. 
 
 60. 
 Fulsome, gross, distasteful ; V. 
 
 i. 108. 
 
 Galliard, a lively French dance ; 
 I. iii. 121. 
 
 Gaskins, a kind of loose 
 breeches; I. v. 25. 
 
 Geek, dupe ; V. i. 343. 
 
 Gentleness, kindness, good- 
 will ; II. i. 44. 
 
 Giddily, negligently ; II. iv. 86. 
 
 Gin, snare ; II. v. 85. 
 
 118
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL 
 
 Glossary 
 
 Ginger, a favourite spice in 
 Shakespeare's time, especially 
 with old people ; frequently 
 referred to by Shakespeare ; 
 II. iii. 121. 
 
 Goes even, agrees, tallies ; V. i. 
 
 239- 
 
 Good life, jollity, with a play 
 upon the literal meaning of 
 the word, " virtuous living " ; 
 II. iii. 37-39. 
 
 Goodman, (Folios " good 
 man"), a familiar appella- 
 tion, sometimes used con- 
 temptuously; IV. ii. 135. 
 
 Grace, virtue; V. i. 31. 
 
 Gracious, full of graces ; I. v. 
 272. 
 
 Grain ; " in grain," natural ; I. 
 v. 247. 
 
 Gratillity; clown 's blunder for 
 " gratuity " ; II. iii. 27. 
 
 Greek; "foolish Greek," i.e. 
 jester, merrymaker (cp. 
 " Matthew Merrygreek " in 
 Ralph Roister Doistcr) ; "the 
 Greeks were proverbially 
 spoken of by the Romans as 
 fond of good living and free 
 potations" (Nares) ; IV. i. 
 19. 
 
 Grise, step, degree; III. i. 131. 
 
 Grizzle, a tinge of grey (per- 
 haps a grisly beard) ; V. i. 
 164. 
 
 Gust = gusto, enjoyment ; I. iii. 
 32. 
 
 Haggard, a wild untrained 
 
 hawk; III. i. 69. 
 Hale, draw ; III. ii. 62. 
 Haply, perhaps; IV. ii. 54. 
 
 Having, possessions; III. iv. 
 368. 
 
 Heat, course ; I. i. 26. 
 
 " Hey Robin, jolly Robin," etc., 
 an old ballad (to be found in 
 the Reliques, Percy) ; IV. ii. 
 
 76-7- 
 
 H ig h = highly ; I. i. 15. 
 Hob nob, " have or have not, 
 
 hit or miss, at random " ; 
 
 III. iv. 258. 
 " Hold thy peace, thou knave," 
 
 and old three-part catch, so 
 
 arranged that each singer 
 
 calls the other " knave " in 
 
 turn ; II. iii. 66. 
 Honesty, " decency, love of 
 
 what is becoming " ; II. iii. 
 
 89. 
 
 Horrible, horribly ; III. iv. 192. 
 Hull, float ; I. v. 212. 
 Humour of state, " capricious 
 
 insolence of authority " ; II. 
 
 v. 54- 
 
 Idleness, frivolousness ; I. v. 
 
 65. 
 Impcticos, to impocket or im- 
 
 petticoat ; one of the clown's 
 
 nonsense words; II. iii. 27. 
 Importance, importunity ; V. i. 
 
 363. 
 Impressure, impression ; II. v. 
 
 95- 
 Incenscment, exasperation ; III. 
 
 iv. 256. 
 Incredulous, incredible ; III. iv. 
 
 86. 
 
 Ingratcful, ungrateful ; V. i. 76. 
 Inter changcmcnt, interchange ; 
 
 V. i. 158. 
 Into, unto; V. i. 83. 
 
 119
 
 Glossary 
 
 TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Jealousy, apprehension ; III. iii. 
 
 8. 
 
 Jets, struts; II. v. 34. 
 jwcl, a piece of jewelry; III. 
 
 iv. 224. 
 Jezebel, used vaguely as a term 
 
 of reproach ; II. v. 43. 
 Joinder, joining; V. i. 156. 
 Jump, tally ; V. i. 252. 
 
 Kickshaii'scs kickshaws; I. 
 
 iii. 117. 
 Kindness, tenderness ; II. i. 40. 
 
 Lapsed, surprised; III. iii. 36. 
 Late, lately; I. ii. 30; III. i. 41. 
 Leasing, lying; I. v. 100. 
 Lemon, lover, sweetheart; II. 
 
 iii. 26. 
 
 Lenten, scanty, poor; I. v. 9. 
 Lets, hinders ; V. i. 249. 
 Lies, dwells ; III. i. 8. 
 Lighter, inferior in position; V. 
 
 i- 339- 
 Limed, caught with bird-lime, 
 
 ensnared ; III. iv. 80. 
 List, boundary, limit; III. i. 83. 
 Little, a little; V. i. 170. 
 Liver, popularly supposed to be 
 
 the seat of the emotions; II. 
 
 iv. 100; III. ii. 20. 
 Love - broker, agent between 
 
 lovers ; III. ii. 37. 
 Lou'ly, mean, base; III. i. 106. 
 Lucrcce; " her L. f " i.e. her seal ; 
 
 cp. the following illustration 
 
 with head of Lucrece; II. v. 
 
 96. 
 Lullaby, " good night " ; V. i. 
 
 44- 
 Maidenhead = maidenhood ; I. 
 
 v. 226. 
 
 An antique ring, 01 Niello work, with 
 the head of Lucrece. From an en- 
 graving by F. W. Fairholt. 
 
 Malapert, saucy, forward ; IV. 
 
 i. 47- 
 Malignancy, malevolence; II. i. 
 
 4- 
 
 Maugre, in spite of; III. i. 158. 
 
 Meddle, fight; III. iv. 271. 
 
 Metal (Folio I, "mettle"; 
 Folio 2, "nettle"); "metal 
 of India " ; = " my golden 
 girl, my jewel"; (others ex- 
 plain " nettle of India " as the 
 Urtica marina, a plant of 
 itching properties) ; II. v. 15. 
 
 Minion, favourite, darling; V. 
 i. 124. 
 
 Minx, a pert woman; III. iv. 
 131- 
 
 Miscarry, be lost, die; III. iv. 
 68. 
 
 Misprison, misapprehension; I. 
 v. 56. 
 
 Mistress Mall; possibly " a 
 mere personification," like 
 " my lady's eldest son " in 
 Much Ado; I. iii. 128. 
 
 Mollification; "some m. for 
 your giant," i.e. " something 
 to pacify your gigantic ( !) 
 waiting-maid "; I. v. 213. 
 
 Monster, unnatural creature ; 
 II. ii. 35- 
 
 120
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL 
 
 Glossary 
 
 Mistress Mall's picture 
 From the title-page ol Middleton and 
 Decker's comedy. The Roaring 
 Girle, or Moll Cut-fur se (1611). 
 
 Mortal, deadly; III. iv. 281. 
 Mouse, a term of endearment; 
 I. v. 64. 
 
 Nayword, by-word; II. iii. 141. 
 
 Newly, lately; V. i. 154. 
 
 Nicely, sophistically, subtilely ; 
 III. i. 16. 
 
 Non-regardance, disregard; V. 
 i. 120. 
 
 Not, used pleonastically after 
 "forbid" ; II. ii. 19. 
 
 Note; " come to note," i.e. " be- 
 come known " ; IV. iii. 29. 
 
 Notorious, notable; V. i. 329. 
 
 Numbers, measure of the 
 verses; II. v. 104. 
 
 Nuncio, messenger ; I. iv. 28. 
 
 Of = on; HI. iv. 2; for the 
 sake of; V. i. 230. 
 
 O = at; II. ii. 3. 
 
 Opal, a precious stone supposed 
 to change its colours; II. iv. 
 76. 
 
 Open, openly ; III. iii. 37. 
 
 Opposite, opponent ; III. ii. 66. 
 III. iv. 249. 
 
 Opposite, hostile; II. v. 150. 
 
 Orb, earth; III. i. 42. 
 
 Orbed continent, the sun; V. i. 
 271. 
 
 Other gates, in another way; 
 V. i. 194. 
 
 " O, the twelfth day of Decem- 
 ber," the opening of some old 
 ballad now lost ; II. iii. 86. 
 
 Over-swear, repeat, swear over 
 again ; V. i. 269. 
 
 Owe own ; I. v. 320. 
 
 Parish-top; alluding to the 
 large top kept in every vil- 
 lage, for the peasants to whip 
 in frosty weather, for the 
 purpose of keeping them- 
 selves warm and out of mis- 
 chief; I. iii. 43. 
 
 Part, in part, partly; III. iv. 
 366. 
 
 Passages, acts; III. ii. 75. 
 
 Pass upon (literally, to thrust), 
 to make a push in fencing; 
 make sallies of wit ; III. i. 
 47- 
 
 Pedant, schoolmaster ; III. ii. 
 78. 
 
 Peevish, silly, wilful ; I. v. 310. 
 
 " Peg-a-Ramsay," the name of 
 an old ballad now unknown ; 
 II. iii. 78. 
 
 Pcnthesilea, the queen of the 
 Amazons ; II. iii. 183. 
 
 121
 
 Glossary 
 
 TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Perchance, by chance: I. ii. 6. 
 
 Perdy, a corruption of par 
 Dieu; IV. ii. 79. 
 
 Perpend, attend, listen ; V. i. 
 299. 
 
 Personage, personal appear- 
 ance ; I. v. 160. 
 
 Perspective, deception ; V. i. 
 217. 
 
 Pilchard, a fish strongly resem- 
 bling the herring; III. i. 38. 
 
 Pipe, voice; I. iv. 32. 
 
 " Please one, and please all." 
 The title of an old ballad 
 (entered on the Stationers' 
 Registers in Jan. 18. 1591-92; 
 printed in Staunton's Shake- 
 speare) ; III. iv. 25. 
 
 Pluck on, excite ; V. i. 366. 
 
 Point-devise, exactly; II. v. 
 165- 
 
 Points, suspenders; I. v. 23. 
 
 From a MS. (6976 Paris National 
 Library of The Four Sons of 
 Aynton. The figure (of a man par- 
 tially stripped for execution) shows 
 how the " points " secured the hose 
 to the upper garment. 
 
 Possess us, put us in posses- 
 sion, tell us ; II. iii. 144. 
 Post, messenger; I. v. 294. 
 
 Practice, plot ; V. i. 352. 
 Praise appraise ; (perhaps 
 
 (?) with a play upon the two 
 
 senses of praise) ; I. v. 259. 
 Pranks, adorns ; II. iv. 88. 
 Pregnant, clever, expert ; II. ii. 
 
 29; III. i. 97. 
 Present, i.e. present wealth ; III. 
 
 iv. 369. 
 Presently, immediately: III. iv. 
 
 213. 
 Prevented, anticipated: III. i. 
 
 90. 
 
 Private, privacy : III. iv. 97. 
 Probation, examination ; II. v. 
 
 131- 
 
 Proof; " vulgar p." common 
 experience; III. i. 131. 
 
 Proper, handsome; III. i. 140; 
 own ; V. i. 319. 
 
 Proper-false, " well - looking 
 and deceitful " ; II. ii. 30. 
 
 Propertied, taken possession of ; 
 IV. ii. 95- 
 
 Propriety, individuality, thy- 
 self; V. i. 146. 
 
 Pure, purely ; V. i. 82. 
 
 Question; "in contempt of q." 
 past question ; II. v. 90. 
 
 Quick, living, lively; I. i. 9. 
 
 Quinapalus, an imaginary phil- 
 osopher ; I. v. 35. 
 
 Quirk, humour, caprice ; III. iv. 
 264. 
 
 Receiving, understanding, quick 
 wit ; III. i. 127. 
 
 Recollected, variously inter- 
 preted to mean (i) studied; 
 (2) refined; (3) trivial: 
 " recollected terms " perhaps 
 
 122
 
 Glossary 
 
 popular refrains ( ? " terms " 
 
 =" turns " or "tunes"); II. 
 
 iv. 5- 
 
 Record, memory ; V. i. 246. 
 Recover, win; II. iii. 190. 
 Regard, look, glance ; V. i. 212. 
 Reins, is governed by the 
 
 bridle; III. iv. 347. 
 Rcliques, memorials ; III. iii. 19. 
 Renown, make famous; III. iii. 
 
 24. 
 Reverberate, reverberating, 
 
 echoing ; I. v. 282. 
 Round, plain ; II. iii. 97. 
 Rub with crums, to clean ; II. 
 
 iii. 123. 
 
 Rubious, red, rosy; I. iv. 32. 
 Rudesby, blusterer; IV. i. 54. 
 Rule, behaviour; II. iii. 127. 
 
 Sack, Spanish and Canary 
 wine ; II. iii. 196. 
 
 Sad, serious; III. iv. 5. 
 
 Saint Bennet, probably St. Ben- 
 net's, Paul's Wharf, London, 
 destroyed in the great fire; 
 V. i. 38. 
 
 Scab, a term of reproach or 
 disgust ; II. v. 77. 
 
 Scout, watch; III. iv. 189. 
 
 Self, self-same (perhaps with 
 the force of " exclusive," 
 "absolute'") ; I. i. 39. 
 
 Scmblati-ve, seeming, like ; I. iv. 
 
 34- 
 
 " Shake your ears," an expres- 
 sion of contempt, " grumble 
 at your pleasure " ; II. iii. 129. 
 
 She, woman ; I. v. 250. 
 
 Sheep-biter, a cant term for a 
 thief; II. v. 5. 
 
 Shent, chidden; IV. ii. 108. 
 
 Sheriff's post; alluding to the 
 custom of sheriffs setting up 
 posts at their doors, upon 
 which to place notices and 
 proclamations ; I. v. 152. 
 
 Shrewishly, pertly; 
 I. v. 166. 
 
 Silly sooth, simple 
 truth ; II. iv. 47. 
 
 Sir, gentle man, 
 lord ; III. iv. 79; 
 title formerly ap- 
 plied to the in- 
 ferior c 1 e rgy ; 
 IV. ii. 2. 
 
 Skilless, inexperi- 
 enced ; III. iii. 9. 
 
 Skills, matters ; V. 
 i. 288. 
 
 Skipping, wild, 
 mad; I. v. 210. 
 
 'Slid, a corruption 
 of " by God's 
 lid "; III. iv. 415. 
 
 'Slight, a corrup- 
 tion of " God's 
 light " ; II. v. 
 35 ; HI. ii. 12. Sherifps Post ' 
 
 Sneck ub an ex From a speci " 
 ijnecu up, an ex- men p re- 
 clamation of served at 
 Norwich. 
 
 contempt; go 
 
 and be hanged ; II. iii. 96. 
 Sophy, Shah of Persia ; II. v. 
 
 184; III. iv. 301. 
 Sound, clear; I. iv. 33. 
 Sowter, name of a hound; II. v. 
 
 125. 
 Spinsters, female spinners ; II. 
 
 iv. 45- 
 
 Spoke, said; I. iv. 20. 
 Squash, an immature peascod; 
 
 I. v. 162. 
 
 123
 
 Glossary 
 
 TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Stable, steady; IV. iii. 19. 
 Standing water, between the 
 
 ebb and flood of the tide; I. 
 
 v. 164. 
 
 Slaniel (Folios, " stallion," cor- 
 rected by Hanmer), a kind 
 
 of hawk ; II. v. 116. 
 SVate:=condition, fortune ; I. v. 
 
 288; V. i. 63. 
 
 State, chair of State; II. v. 47. 
 Stitches, a sharp pain ; III. ii. 
 
 71- 
 
 Stock, stocking; I. iii. 138. 
 Stone-bow, "a cross-bow, from 
 
 which stones or bullets were 
 
 shot"; II. v. 48. 
 Stoup, a drinking vessel ; II. iii. 
 
 124. 
 Strange, stout, reserved and 
 
 proud; II. v. 173. 
 Strange, estranged ; V. i. 212. 
 Strangeness, reserve ; IV. i. 16. 
 Strangle, suppress ; V. i. 146. 
 Stuck, stoccato, a thrust in 
 
 fencing; III. iv. 297. 
 Substractors; Sir Toby's blun- 
 der for " detractors " ; I. iii. 
 
 36. 
 
 Suited, clad; V. i. 234. 
 Supportance, upholding ; III. 
 
 iv. 322. 
 
 Swabber, one who scrubs the 
 ship's deck; I. v. 212. 
 
 Swarths, swaths ; II. iii. 155. 
 
 Sweeting, a term of endear- 
 ment ; II. iii. 43. 
 
 Tabor, an instrument used by 
 professional clowns ; III. i. 2. 
 
 Taffeta, a fine smooth stuff of 
 silk; II. iv. 75. 
 
 Tainting of, bringing discredit 
 upon; V. i. 137. 
 
 Take up, acknowledge ; V. i. 
 147- 
 
 Tall, used ironically ; I. iii. 20. 
 
 Tang, twang; II. v. 152. 
 
 Tartar, Tartarus ; II. v. 210. 
 
 Taste, put to use, try; III. i. 84. 
 
 Taxation, tax, demand; I. v. 
 219. 
 
 Tender, hold dear; V. i. 125. 
 
 Terms, words. " recollected 
 terms," -vide; II. iv. 5. 
 
 Testril, sixpence; II. iii. 34. 
 
 " There dwelt a man in Baby- 
 lon," a line from the old 
 ballad of Susanna (cp. Ro- 
 meo and Juliet, II. iv. 151) ; 
 II. iii. 81. 
 
 " Three merry men be we," 
 a fragment of an old song; 
 
 
 i f> .P r d r 
 
 -^ J J 1 . ^! j 
 
 
 Three merry men, and three merry men, and 
 m^Tr-f> \ -"tntfrrfFo p J .1 . ...j..".i 
 
 j ' r i4 ' ' ' -^ 
 
 three merry men be we, . 
 
 -fl j> e -i 
 
 in the wood and 
 
 jU' 7 ! r r P- 
 
 g x '. ' t- 
 
 
 =M^^M1 
 
 on the ground. And Jack sleeps in the 
 From Naylor's Shakespeare and Music. 
 
 124
 
 OR. WHAT YOU WILL 
 
 Glossary 
 
 frequently quoted by the 
 dramatists (cp. Chappell's 
 Popular Music) ; II. iii. 78. 
 
 Throw, a throw with the dice, 
 hence " cast, or venture " ; 
 V. i. 41- 
 
 Tillyvally, an exclamation of 
 contempt ; II. iii. 80. 
 
 Time-pleaser, timeserver, flat- 
 terer; II. iii. 153. 
 
 Tinkers, menders of old brass ; 
 " proverbial tipplers and 
 would-be politicians " ; II. iii. 
 90. 
 
 Trade, business ; III. i. 80. 
 
 Travel of regard, looking 
 about; II. v. 55. 
 
 Tray-trip, a game like back- 
 gammon ; II. v. 193. 
 
 Trouble; "your tr." the trouble 
 I have caused you; II. i. 34. 
 
 Trunks, alluding to the elabo- 
 rately carved chests in use in 
 Shakespeare's time; III. iv. 
 
 393- 
 Tuck, rapier; III. iv. 240. 
 
 Tuck. 
 
 From a specimen in the possession of Lord 
 Londesborough. 
 
 Unprizablc, invaluable ; V. i. 54. 
 Unprofitcd, profitless ; I. iv. 
 
 22. 
 
 Upon, because of, in conse- 
 quence of; V. i. 361. 
 Use, usury; III. i. 55. 
 
 Validity, value ; I. i. 12. 
 
 Venerable, worthy of venera- 
 tion; III. iv. 386. 
 
 Vice, the buffoon of the old 
 morality plays ; IV. ii. 128. 
 
 Viol-de-gamboys; Sir Toby's 
 blunder for viol da gamba, a 
 bass-viol or violoncello, a 
 fashionable instrument of 
 that time; I. iii. 25. 
 
 Vo u chsafed, 
 vouch- 
 safing;III. 
 
 Wainro pes, 
 waggo n- 
 ropes ; III. 
 ii. 62. 
 
 Viol-de-gamboys- 
 F r o m the alchemial 
 MS. in the Harleian 
 collection. 
 
 Unauspicious, inauspicious ; V. 
 
 i. 112. 
 Unchary, heedlessly ; III. iv. 
 
 218. 
 
 Ungird, relax ; IV. i. 16. 
 Unhatched, " unbacked, not 
 
 blunted by blows " ; III. iv. 
 
 253- 
 
 Ware; " Bed of Ware " ; a huge 
 bed, capable of holding 
 twelve persons ; formerly at 
 the Saracen's Head Inn at 
 Ware, and now at the Rye- 
 House; III. ii. 49. (See il- 
 lustration.) 
 
 Was, had been; IV. iii. 6. 
 
 125
 
 Glossary 
 
 TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Waters; " I am for all waters," 
 i.e. " I can turn my hand to 
 anything : like a fish, I can 
 swim equally well in all wa- 
 ters " ; IV. ii. 66. 
 
 Weaver; alluding perhaps to 
 the psalm-singing propensi- 
 ties of the weavers ; II. iii. 60. 
 
 Weeds, garments; V. i. 255. 
 
 "Westward-hoi" an exclama- 
 tion often used by the boat- 
 men on the Thames ; III. i. 
 141. 
 
 What, at which ; IV. iii. 30. 
 
 What 's she = who is she ; I. ii. 
 
 35- 
 
 Whiles = while ; III. iii. 41 : 
 until ; IV. iii. 29. 
 
 The Great Bed, at Ware. 
 
 Welkin, sky; II. iii. 58; III. i. 
 
 63- 
 
 Well-a-day, an exclamation ex- 
 pressive of grief ; " welaway," 
 alas! IV. ii. 112. 
 
 Were best, had better; III. iv. 
 12. 
 
 Were better, had better ; II. 
 ii. 27. 
 
 Whipstock, whip-handle; II. 
 iii. 28. 
 
 Windy, safe ; III. iv. 177. 
 
 With, by ; I. v. 86. 
 
 Wits; " five wits," viz., " com- 
 mon wit, imagination, fan- 
 tasy, estimation, and mem- 
 ory " ; IV. ii. go. 
 
 Woodcock, a bird popularly 
 
 126
 
 supposed to have no brains, 
 hence the word was com- 
 monly used for a fool; II. v. 
 85; IV. ii. 61. 
 
 Worth, substance, wealth ; III. 
 iii. 17. 
 
 Yare, ready, active ; III. iv. 240. 
 ' Yeoman of the wardrobe,' a 
 
 Glossary 
 
 regular title of office in 
 Shakespeare's time; II. v. 
 42. 
 
 Zanies ; " subordinate buffoons 
 whose office was to make 
 awkward attempts at mimick- 
 ing the tricks of the pro- 
 fessional clown " ; I. v. 91. 
 
 127
 
 TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Critical Notes. 
 
 BY ISRAEL GOLLANCZ. 
 
 I. i. 5. 'sound'; so the Folios; Pope changed it to ' south', and 
 editors have generally accepted this emendation, but it seems un- 
 necessary : Grant White appropriately asks, " Did Pope, or the 
 editors who have followed him, ever lie musing on the sward at 
 the edge of a wood, and hear the low sweet hum of the summer 
 air, as it kissed the coyly-shrinking wild flowers upon the banks, 
 and passed on loaded with fragrance from the sweet salute?" 
 
 I. i. 22. ' like fell and cruel hounds ' ; referring to the story of 
 Actaeon. 
 
 I. i. 38. ' all supplied, and fill'd ' ; the comma after ' supplied ' is 
 not in the Folio: its insertion simplifies the lines. Others leave 
 the Folio reading, but bracket ' her sweet perfections '' in the next 
 line ; making them appositional to ' thrones.' 
 
 I. i. 15. 'Arion on the dolphin's back'; the Folios misprint 
 
 Arion on the dolphin's back. 
 
 From B. Kiichlpr's Retr&sentatio der FiirstlicJien Auffzug. . 
 Herrenjoh. Friednch Hertzogen zu Wiitttenberg (1609). 
 
 128
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Notes 
 
 'Orion' for 'Anon.' Cp. the famous passage " Oberon's 
 Vision " in Midsummer-Night's Dream. 
 
 I. iii. 70-71. ' bring your hand to the buttery-bar and let it 
 drink ' ; "a proverbial phrase among Abigails, to ask at once for 
 a kiss and a present " (KenrickJ. 
 
 I. iii. 96. ' Then hadst thou had an excellent head of hair ' ; Sir 
 Toby evidently plays upon ' tongues ' and ' tongs ' (i. e. curling- 
 tongs). 
 
 I. iii. 120. ' an old man ' ; Theobald proposed to read ' a noble 
 man,' taking the allusion to be to Orsino. Clarke explains ' an old 
 man ' as ' a man of experience ' ; " the word old" he adds, " gives 
 precisely that absurd effect of refraining from competing in danc- 
 ing, fencing, etc., with exactly the antagonist incapacitated by age 
 over whom Sir Andrew might hope to prove his superiority." 
 
 I. iii. 141. ' That's sides and heart'; Sir Andrew and Sir Toby 
 are wrong in the parts assigned to Taurus in the old astrological 
 figures of the human body. Taurus was supposed to govern the 
 neck and throat. 
 
 I. iv. 3. ' three days ' ; Mr. Daniel points out in his ' Time 
 Analysis ' that this statement is inconsistent with the Duke's 
 words in V. i. 102, ' Three months this youth hatli tended upon 
 me.' 
 
 II. i. 17. ' Mcssalinc ' ; possibly an error for Mitylene, as Capell 
 conjectured. 
 
 II. iii. 17. ' the picture of "we three"'; "a common sign, in 
 which two wooden heads are exhibited with this inscription under 
 it, ' We three loggerheads be,' the spectator being supposed to 
 make the third" (Malone). 
 
 II. iii. 23-25. ' Pigrogromitus . . . of Queubus' etc. Mr. 
 Swinburne sees in these ' freaks of nomenclature ' the direct influ- 
 ence of Rabelais (cp. A Study of Shakespeare, pp. 155, 156). 
 
 II. iii. 40. 'O mistress mine,' etc.; "this tune is contained in 
 both the editions of Morley's Consort Lessons, 1599 and 1611. It 
 is also found in Queen Elizabeth's Virginal Book, arranged by 
 Boyd. As it is to be found in print in 1599. it proves either that 
 Shakespeare's Twelfth Night was written in or before that year, 
 or that, in accordance with the then prevailing custom, ' O mis- 
 tress mine,' was an old song, introduced into the play " (Chappell's 
 Popular Music of the Olden Time). 
 
 II. iii. 117. ' Out o' tune, sir: ye lie'; Theobald proposed 
 ' rime, sir?' which has been very generally adopted. The reading 
 of the Folios may well stand without change. Sir Toby says to 
 
 129
 
 Notes TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 the Clown that he is out of tune and lies in declaring ' no, no, no, 
 you dare not' (i.e. dare not bid Malvolio go). Hence next words 
 ' Art any more than a steward,' addressed to Malvolio. 
 
 II. v. 41. ' the lady of the Strachy ' ; this is one of the unset- 
 tled problems in Shakespeare. Hunter ingeniously suggested that 
 Shakespeare ridicules, in the scene between the Clown, as Sir 
 Topas, and Malvolio (IV. ii.), the exorcisms by Puritan ministers, 
 in the case of a family named Starchy (1596-99), and that the dif- 
 ficult Strachy was a hint to the audience to expect subsequent allu- 
 sion to the Starchy affair. Others suggest ' Strossi,' ' Stracci,' 
 ' Stratarch.' Halliwell refers to a Russian word meaning lawyer or 
 judge. The incident of a lady of high rank marrying her steward 
 is the subject of Webster's Duchess of Malfy. 
 
 II. v. 65, 66. ' with cars ' ; so Folio i ; the later Folios, ' zvith 
 cares'; Johnson, 'with carts'; many emendations have been pro- 
 posed. Clarke defends the original reading, and compares ' A 
 team of horse shall not pluck that from me ' (Two Gentlemen, III. 
 i. 265); Hanmer's suggestion 'by t/i' cars' has been generally 
 adopted. 
 
 II. v. 155. 'yellow stockings': these were much worn in Shake- 
 speare's time, and have still survived to our own day in the yellow 
 stockings worn by the ' Blue Coat boys.' 
 
 III. i. 54. ' these,' i.e. these coins which Viola has given him. 
 III. i. 60. ' Cressida was a beggar ' ; ' according to the story 
 
 Cressida finally became a leper and begged by the roadside.' 
 
 III. i. 69. ' And, like the haggard, check at every feather ' ; so 
 the Folios ; Johnson proposed ' not ' for ' and,' and this reading has 
 reasonably been adopted by most editors ; ' to check ' is "a term in 
 falconry, applied to a hawk when she forsakes her proper game, 
 and follows some other of inferior kind that crosses her in her 
 flight " ; the meaning therefore of the Folio reading would be 
 ' that he must catch at every opportunity,' but this does not suit 
 the context: the wise Clown must be discriminative; hence John- 
 son's ' not.' 
 
 III. i. 73. 'wise men, f oily-fall 'n, quite taint their wit': Folio 
 i, ' wisemens folly falne'; Hanmer and Warburton, 'wise men's 
 folly shown'; the text is Theobald's, and is generally adopted 
 
 III. i. 128. ' a cypress, not a bosom, Hides my heart ' ; the force 
 of these words has, it would seem, been missed ; the point of the 
 ' cypress' is not its blackness but its transparency. Cp. ' The Bal- 
 lad of Robin Hood, Scarlet and John ' : 
 
 130
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL 
 
 Notes 
 
 " Cypress over her face. 
 
 Through which her rose-like cheeks did blush 
 All in a comely grace." 
 
 'Bosom' must, I think, be used in this passage in the sense of 
 ' the bosom of the dress ' which conceals the body. Olivia says, 
 ' you can see my heart ; a thin gauze as it were hides it, not a 
 stomacher.' 
 
 III. ii. 26. ' sailed into the north,' etc. ; perhaps this is a refer- 
 ence to the discovery of Northern Nova Zembla by the Dutch- 
 man Barenz in 1506. (Cp. C. H. Coote's paper on ' the new map' 
 I. 83. New Sliakespeare Society Publications, 1878). 
 
 III. ii. 68 ' youngest wren of nine'; Folio, 'mine,' emended by 
 Theobald. The wren is said to lay nine or ten eggs at a time, 
 and the last hatched nestling is usually the smallest of the whole 
 brood. 
 
 III. ii. 83. ' the new map with the augmentation of the Indies' ; 
 no doubt a reference to the map which Hallam, in his Literature 
 of Europe, calls ' the best map of the i6th century ' : it is found in 
 the first edition of Hakluyt's Voyages (1589), but as it records dis- 
 coveries made at least seven years later, it was in all probability a 
 
 Part (showing Borneo, Celebes, etc. 1 of a map of the Indies in Linschoten's 
 Discours of Voyages into the E. and IV. Indies (1598).
 
 Notes TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 separate map, well known at the time, and made so as to be in- 
 serted in Hakluyt: the author was probably Mr. Emmerie Mol- 
 lineux, who was also the first Englishman to make a terrestrial 
 globe. It is noteworthy that the map shows a marked develop- 
 ment of the geography of India proper, etc. (Cp. Transactions of 
 the New Shakespeare Society, 1877-79) 
 
 III. iii. 15. 'And thanks; and ever [thanks, and] oft good 
 turns.' The Cambridge editors indicate by dots that some word 
 has dropped out between 'ever' and 'oft.' Many emendations 
 have been proposed. Theobald's suggestion has been adopted ; the 
 Old Spelling Shakespeare reads 
 
 'And thanks; and, ever oft, good turns . . . 
 
 ' ever oft ' in the sense of ' with perpetual frequency.' 
 
 IV. i. 14-15. '/ am afraid this great lubber, the ^vorld, will 
 prove a cockney ' ; so the Folios ; the lines evidently mean " I am 
 afraid affectation and foppery will overspread the world " (John- 
 son) ; it has been proposed to change 'world' into 'word' (i.e. 
 with reference to 'vent'): others read ' this great lubberly 
 world ' ; Knight explains that the words are spoken aside, and 
 mean, ' I am afraid the world will prove this great lubber (Sebas- 
 tian) a cockney.' This seems very strained, and probably the 
 simplest reading of the passage is the best. 
 
 IV. ii. 14. ' the old hermit of Prague ' ; Douce points out that the 
 allusion is " not to the celebrated heresiarch, Jerome of Prague, 
 but another of that name, born likewise at Prague, and called the 
 hermit of Camaldoli in Tuscany." 
 
 IV. ii. 40. 'clearstories'; Folio i, ' cleere stores'; Folio 2, 
 ' cleare stones'; the reading adopted is Blakeway's conjecture in 
 Boswell : ' clerestory ' is the name given to the windows above the 
 arches of the nave of a Gothic church. 
 
 IV. ii. 135. ' goodman devil'; Folio i, 'good man diuell'; 
 Rowe's ' goodman Drivel,' seems the most plausible emendation, if 
 any is necessary ; Folio 2 reads ' good man Direll.' 
 
 V. i. 113. 'My soul the faithfull'st offerings hath breathed 
 out'; the Folios ' haue,' corrected by Capell, but probably Shake- 
 speare's own reading ; the plural for the singular, owing to the 
 plural object ('faithfull'st offerings') preceding the verb. 
 
 V. i. 200-1. 'a passy measures pavin'; Folio i, ' panyn'; Folio 
 2, 'Pavin'; various emendations have been suggested, but there 
 is little doubt that the reading in the text is the correct one. ' Pas- 
 sy measures' is a corruption of the Italian ' passamesso,' which 
 
 132
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL 
 
 Notes 
 
 word Florio explains as ' a passa-incasurc in dancing, a cinque 
 pace ' ; it was a slow dance, differing little from the action of walk- 
 ing. ' Pavin ' was a grave Spanish dance. Cp. Naylor's Shake- 
 speare and Music, 201 ff. According to Halliwell, the passy meas- 
 ures pavin is described as follows in an early MS. list of dances : 
 
 Passo-e-mezzo. Pavana. 
 
 From // Ballarino di M. Fabritio Caroso da Sermoneta (Venice, 1581). 
 
 " The passinge measure Pavyon 2 singles and a double forward, 
 and 2 singles syde. Reprince back." Sir Toby means, therefore, 
 that ' the surgeon is a rogue and a grave solemn coxcomb.' 
 
 V. i. 362. 'against.' Tyrwhitt's conjecture 'in' has a good 
 deal in its favour ; ' against ' may have been caught from line 360. 
 
 133
 
 TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Explanatory Notes. 
 
 The Explanatory Notes in this edition have been specially selected and 
 adapted, with emendations after the latest and best authorities, from the 
 most eminent Shakespearian scholars and commentators, including Johnson, 
 Malone, Steevens, Singer, Dyce, Hudson, White, Furness, Dowden, and 
 others. This method, here introduced for the first time, provides the best 
 annotation of Shakespeare ever embraced in a single edition. 
 
 ACT FIRST. 
 Scene I. 
 
 [Duke.] Hudson in his " abstract of the tale as told by Barnaby 
 Rich, from which," he says, " a pretty fair estimate of the Poet's . 
 obligations may be easily made out," further remarks : " A certain 
 duke, named Apolonius, had served a year in the wars against the 
 Turk. Returning homewards by sea, he was driven by stress of 
 weather to the isle of Cyprus, where he was well received by 
 Pontus, the governor, whose daughter Silla fell so deeply in love 
 with him, that after his departure to Constantinople she forsook 
 home in pursuit of him. having persuaded her man Pedro to go 
 along with her. For security against such perils and injuries as 
 are apt to befall young ladies in her situation, she assumed the 
 dress and name of her brother Silvio, who was absent from home 
 when she left. Coming to Constantinople, she inquired out the 
 residence of Apolonius, and presented herself before him, craving 
 to be his servant ; and he, being well disposed towards strangers, 
 and liking her appearance, took her into his service. Her smooth 
 and gentle behaviour soon won his confidence, and her happy dili- 
 gence in waiting upon him caused her to be advanced above all the 
 rest of his servants in credit and trust." 
 
 5-7. like the sweet sound, etc. : Milton seems to have had this 
 in his eye when he wrote the richly- freighted lines: 
 
 " Now gentle gales, 
 
 Fanning their odoriferous wings, dispense 
 
 Native perfumes, and whisper whence they stole 
 Those balmy spoils." 
 
 134
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Notes 
 
 22, 23. like fell and cruel hounds, etc. : Shakespeare seems to 
 think men cautioned against too great familiarity with forbidden 
 beauty by the fable of Actaeon, who saw Diana naked, and was 
 torn to pieces by his hounds ; as a man indulging his eyes or his 
 imagination with a view of a woman he cannot gain, has his heart 
 torn with incessant longing. An interpretation far more elegant 
 and natural than Bacon's, who, in his Wisdom of the Ancients, 
 supposes this story to warn us against inquiring into the secrets 
 of princes, by showing that those who know that which for rea- 
 sons of state ought to be concealed will be detected and destroyed 
 by their own servants. Malone thinks that Shakespeare had seen 
 and here recalled Daniel's 5th Sonnet: 
 
 " Whilst youth and error led my wand'ring mind. 
 
 And sette my thoughts in heedles waies to range, 
 All unawares a goddesse chaste I finde, 
 
 (Diana like) to worke my suddaine change. 
 
 My thoughts, like hounds, pursue me to my death," etc. 
 Daniel in turn may have drawn upon Whitney's Emblems, 1586: 
 
 " those whoe do pursue 
 
 Theire fancies fonde, and thinges unlawfull crave, 
 Like brutishe beastes appeare unto the viewe, 
 And shall at length Actaeon's guerdon have : 
 And as his howndes, so theire affections base 
 Shall them devoure, and all theire deedes deface." 
 
 Whitney may have recurred to Adlington's dedication to his 
 translation of the Golden Ass of Apuleius : " For by the fable of 
 Actaeon, . . . may be meant, that when a man casteth his eies 
 on the vaine and soon-fading beauty of the world, consenting 
 thereto in his minde, he seemes to be turned into a bruite beast, 
 and so to be slaine through the inordinate desire of his own 
 affects." 
 
 30. season : The Poet elsewhere uses season in this sense. 
 Thus in Romeo and Juliet, II. iii. 69-72 : 
 
 " Jesu Maria, what a deal of brine 
 Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline ! 
 How much salt water thrown away in waste, 
 To season love ! " 
 
 135
 
 Notes TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 15. Arion : Rolfe says: " The allusion is to the classical story 
 of the minstrel Arion, who, when the sailors were about to mur- 
 der him for his money, asked leave to play a ' swan-song' before 
 he died, after which he threw himself into the sea, and was borne 
 safely to land by one of the dolphins that had gathered about the 
 ship to listen to his music." Halliwell observes that the simile 
 was familiar to the Poet and his audience, both from the classical 
 story and from its frequent introduction into the masques and 
 pageants of the day. 
 
 28, 29. 1 have heard, etc.: "One of Shakespeare's subtle 
 touches in dramatic art," says Clarke. " By the mention of Vio- 
 la's father having spoken of the Duke we are led to see the source 
 of her interest in Orsino ; and by the word bachelor we are made 
 to see the peculiar nature of that interest." 
 
 56. as an eunuch : This plan of Viola's was not pursued, as it 
 would have been inconsistent with the plot of the play. She was 
 presented as a page, not as a eunuch. 
 
 Scene V. 
 
 166. shrewishly : " It is worthy of note," says Clarke, " not only 
 how Olivia is so much struck by the sauciness of the page- 
 messenger, whose manner is so different from the usual deference 
 with which Orsino's envoys treat her as to interest her in the 
 youth even before she sees him, but it is also to be remarked how 
 Viola assumes flippancy when coming from the Duke, although, 
 while in his house, speaking to either himself or his gentlemen, 
 she maintains the most quiet, distant, and even reservedly digni- 
 fied speech and conduct." 
 
 213. Some mollification for your giant : Ladies in romance are 
 guarded by giants. Viola, seeing the waiting-maid so eager to 
 oppose her message, entreats Olivia to pacify her giant ; an ironical 
 allusion to Maria's smallness of stature. 
 
 270. In voices well divulged : Perhaps well-reputed for his 
 knowledge in languages, which was esteemed a great accomplish- 
 ment in the Poet's time; or the meaning may be well voiced or 
 spoken of by others. 
 
 304. Unless the master were the man : Malone interprets this 
 passage as follows : " Unless the dignity of the master were 
 added to the merit of the servant, I shall go too far and disgrace 
 
 136
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Notes 
 
 myself." Steevens says she may mean, " this is unbecoming for- 
 wardness on my part, unless I were as much in love with the 
 master as I am with the man." Clarke explains it : " Unless the 
 master's love for me were felt by the man." 
 
 319. Mine eye, etc.: She fears that her eyes had formed so 
 flattering an idea of the supposed youth Cesario, that she may 
 not have strength of mind sufficient to resist the impression. 
 
 321. be this so : Hudson in his " abstract of the tale as told 
 by Barnaby Rich," thus continues the argument : " At this time 
 there dwelt in the city a lady widow named Julina, whose husband 
 had lately died, leaving her large possessions and rich livings, and 
 who, moreover, surpassed all the ladies of Constantinople in 
 beauty. Her attractions of course proved too much for the Duke : 
 he became an earnest suitor to the lady, and employed his new 
 servant to carry his love-tokens and forward his suit. Thus, be- 
 sides her other afflictions, this piece of disguised sweetness had to 
 endure the greater one of being the instrument to work her own 
 mishap, and of playing the attorney in a cause that made against 
 herself; nevertheless, being altogether desirous to please her 
 master, and caring nothing at all to offend herself, she urged his 
 suit with as much zeal as if it had been her own preferment. But 
 'twas not long till Silla's sweetness stole through her disguise 
 right into the heart of the lady Julina, who at length got so entan- 
 gled with the often sight of this sweet temptation, that she fell as 
 much in love with the servant as the master was with herself. 
 Thus things went on, till one day Silla, being sent with a message 
 to the lady, began to solicit very warmly for the Duke, when 
 Julina interrupted her, saying, ' Silvio, it is enough that you have 
 said for your master : henceforth either speak for yourself, or say 
 nothing at all.' " 
 
 ACT SECOND. 
 Scene I. 
 
 35. murder me : It may be that in this passage reference is had 
 to a superstition thus indicated by Sir Walter Scott in The Pirate : 
 When Mordaunt has rescued Cleveland from the sea, and is try- 
 ing to revive him, Bryce, the pedler. says to him, "Are you mad? 
 you, that have so long lived in Zetland, to risk the saving of a 
 drowning man? Wot ye not, if you bring him to life again, he 
 will be sure to do you some capital injury? " Sir Walter suggests 
 
 137
 
 Notes TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 in a note that this inhuman maxim was probably held by the 
 islanders of the Orkneys, as an excuse for leaving all to perish 
 alone who were shipwrecked upon their coasts, to the end that 
 there might be nothing to hinder the plundering of their goods; 
 which of course could not well be if any of the owners survived. 
 This practice, he says, continued into the eighteenth century, and 
 " was with difficulty weeded out by the sedulous instructions of 
 the clergy and the rigorous injunctions of the proprietors." 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 13. She took the ring: Clarke says that " Viola, perceiving that 
 Olivia has framed an excuse to blind her steward whom she 
 sends, and willing to aid her in screening herself, accepts the ver- 
 sion given of the ring's having been sent from Orsino to the 
 Countess ; which, moreover, affords a ready and plausible motive 
 for refusing to take it now herself." 
 
 21. her eyes had lost her tongue: That is, says Hudson, "her 
 eyes were so charmed that she lost the right use of her tongue, 
 and let it run as if it were divided from her judgement." 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 10-12. the four elements, etc. : In ridicule of the medical theory 
 of that time, which supposed health to consist in the just tempera- 
 ment of the four elements in the human frame. Homer agrees 
 with Sir Andrew : 
 
 " Strength consists in spirits and in blood, 
 And those are ow'd to generous wine and food." 
 
 52. Sweet and twenty appears to have been an ancient term of 
 endearment. 
 
 58. make the welkin dance : That is, drink till the sky seems 
 to turn round. 
 
 59, 60. draw three souls, etc. : Shakespeare represents weavers 
 much given to harmony in his time. Sir Toby meant that the 
 catch should be so harmonious that it would hale the soul out of 
 a weaver thrice over, a tumid way of saying that it would give this 
 warm lover of song thrice more delight than it would give another 
 man. Warburton deemed this passage an allusion to the three 
 souls of the Peripatetic philosophy. This inspired Coleridge to 
 
 138
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Noies 
 
 remark: "O genuine and inimitable (at least I hope so) War- 
 burton ! This note of thine, if but one in five millions, would be 
 half a one too much." 
 
 86. O, the twelfth day, etc. : With Sir Toby as wine goes in 
 music comes out, and fresh songs keep bubbling up in his memory 
 as he waxes mellower. A similar thing occurs in 2 Henry IV., 
 where Master Silence grows merry and musical amidst his cups 
 in " the sweet of the night." Of the ballads referred to by 
 Sir Toby, O, the twelfth day of December is entirely lost. Percy 
 has one stanza of There dwelt a man in Babylon, which he de- 
 scribes as " a poor dull performance, and very long." Three merry 
 men be we seems to have been the burden of several old songs, 
 one of which was called Robin Hood and the Tanner. Peg-a- 
 Ramsay, or Peggy Ramsay, was an old popular tune which had 
 several ballads fitted to it. Thou knave was a catch which, says 
 Sir John Hawkins, " appears to be so contrived that each of the 
 singers calls the other knave in turn." 
 
 Scene IV. 
 
 26-39. What kind of woman, etc. : In common with others, 
 Brandes sees in this passage a revelation of the Poet's unhappiness 
 consequent upon his own marriage. Says Brandes : " Ordinary 
 knowledge of the world is sufficient to suggest that his association 
 with a village girl eight years older than himself could not satisfy 
 him or fill his life. The study of his works confirms this con- 
 jecture. It would, of course, be unreasonable to attribute con- 
 scious and deliberate autobiographical import to speeches torn 
 from their context in different plays ; but there are none the less 
 several passages in his dramas which may fairly be taken as indi- 
 cating that he regarded his marriage in the light of a youthful 
 folly." Whereupon Brandes quotes this passage. And Elze, 
 agreeing with this view, asks: "Is it possible not to recognize 
 this to be the Poet's grief at his own unfortunate marriage ? " 
 He adds : " It is obviously wisdom that has sprung from sorrow." 
 Mabie, however, like Halliwell and others, views the matter differ- 
 ently. " The tradition that he was an unhappy husband is based 
 entirely on the assumption that, while his family remained in 
 Stratford, for twelve years he was almost continuously absent in 
 London, and that he seems to speak with deep feeling about the 
 disastrous effects of too great intimacy before marriage, and of 
 the importance of a woman's marrying a man older than herself. 
 
 139
 
 Notes TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 This is, however," continues Mabie, "pure inference, and it is 
 perilous to draw inferences of this kind from phrases which a 
 dramatist puts into the mouths of men and women who are inter- 
 preting, not their author's convictions and feelings, but a phase of 
 character, a profound human experience, or the play of that irony 
 which every playwright from -^schylus to Ibsen has felt deeply. 
 The dramatist reveals his personality as distinctly as does the 
 lyric poet, but not in the same way. Shakespeare's view of life, 
 his conception of human destiny, his attitude toward society, his 
 ideals of character, are to be found, not in detached passages 
 framed and coloured by dramatic necessities, but in the large 
 and consistent conception of life which underlies the entire body 
 of his work." 
 
 Scene V. 
 
 72. Saying, etc.: " Malvolio the count." says Lloyd, "promises 
 unbecoming reminiscence of Malvolio the steward ; and Olivia, 
 'left in a day-bed sleeping,' is forgotten for the enjoyment of the 
 branched gown, the state, the rich jewel, and the opportunity of 
 being surly with servants, and snubbing his old enemy, and now 
 his kinsman. Toby." 
 
 82. 'One Sir Andrew': It may be worthy of remark that the 
 leading ideas of Malvolio. in his humour of state, bear a strong 
 resemblance to those of Alnaschar in The Arabian Nights. Some 
 of the expressions too are very similar. Many Arabian fictions 
 had found their way into obscure Latin and French books, and 
 from thence into English ones, long before any version of The 
 Arabian Nights had appeared. In The Dialogues of Creatures 
 Moralized, printed early in the sixteenth century, a story similar 
 to that of Alnaschar is related. 
 
 161. The Fortunate-Unhappy: Maria's quaint stratagem of the 
 letter is evidently for the purpose of disclosing to others what 
 her keener sagacity has discovered long before ; and its working 
 lifts her into a model of arch roguish mischievousness, with wit 
 to plan and art to execute whatsoever falls within the scope of 
 such a character. The scenes where the waggish troop, headed 
 by this "noble gull-catcher" and "most excellent devil of wit," 
 bewitch Malvolio into " a contemplative idiot." practising upon his 
 vanity and conceit until he seems ready to burst with an ecstasy 
 of self-consequence, and they "laugh themselves into stitches" 
 over him, are almost painfully diverting. At length, however, our 
 
 140
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Notes 
 
 merriment at seeing him " jet under his advanced plumes '' passes 
 into pity for his sufferings, and we feel a degree of resentment 
 towards his ingenious persecutors. Doubtless the Poet meant to 
 push the joke upon him so far as to throw our feelings over on 
 his side, and make us take his part. For his character is such 
 that perhaps nothing but excessive reprisals on his vanity could 
 make us do justice to his real worth. 
 
 ACT THIRD. 
 Scene I. 
 
 23, 24. words are very rascals since bonds disgraced them : 
 This is believed to be an allusion to the order of the Privy Council 
 in June, 1600, laying verj r severe restrictions upon stage perform- 
 ances. After prescribing " that there shall be about the city two 
 houses and no more, allowed to serve for the use of common 
 stage plays ; of the which houses, one shall be in Surrey, in the 
 place commonly called The Bankside, or thereabouts, and the other 
 in Middlesex," the order runs thus : " Forasmuch as these stage 
 plays, by the multitude of houses and company of players, have 
 been so frequent, not serving for recreation, but inviting and call- 
 ing the people daily from their trade and work to misspend their 
 time ; it is likewise ordered, that the two several companies of 
 players, assigned unto the two houses allowed, may play each of 
 them in their several houses twice a week, and no oftener : and 
 especially they shall refrain to play on the Sabbath day, upon pain 
 of imprisonment and further penalty. And they shall forbear 
 altogether in the time of Lent, and likewise at such time and 
 times as any extraordinary sickness, or infection of disease, shall 
 appear to be in or about the city." This, of course, was little 
 short of entire suppression of the playhouses. Words were dis- 
 graced by bonds inasmuch as imprisonment was the penalty for 
 violation of the order. 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 46. if thou thou'st him: This has been generally thought an 
 allusion to Coke's impudent and abusive thouing of Sir Walter 
 Raleigh at his trial ; but the play was acted a year and a half be- 
 fore that trial took place. And indeed it had been no insult to 
 
 141
 
 Notes TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 thou Sir Walter, unless there were some preexisting custom or 
 sentiment to make it so. What that custom was may be seen by 
 the following passage from The Rule of St. Bridget : " None of 
 hyghenesse schal thou another in spekynge. but eche schal speke 
 reverently to other, the younger namely to the elder." One of 
 the authors of Guesses at Truth has a very learned and ingen- 
 ious essay on the subject, wherein he quotes the following from 
 a book published in 1661, by George Fox the Quaker : " For this 
 thou and thee was a sore cut to proud flesh, and them that sought 
 self-honour; who, though they would say it to God and Christ, 
 would not endure to have it said to themselves. So that we were 
 often beaten and abused, and sometimes in danger of our lives, 
 for using those words to some proud men, who would say, What, 
 you ill-bred clown, do you thou me ! " 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 [Enter Sebastian and Antonio.] We find the twin-brother 
 Sebastian to have conciliated as unconsciously as effectually the 
 affectionate friendship of the generous nature of Antonio. This 
 Scene interests us in Sebastian on his own account, but even 
 more by indicating the sympathy of his nature with that of 
 Viola it prepares us to witness and take pleasure in his acci- 
 dental succession to her favour with Olivia. 
 
 Scene IV. 
 
 59. midsummer madness: " 'Tis midsummer moon with you" 
 was a proverbial phrase, signifying you are mad. It was an an- 
 cient opinion that hot weather affected the brain. 
 
 254. OH carpet consideration : The meaning of this may be 
 gathered from Randle Holme. Speaking of a certain class of 
 knights, he says, " They are termed simply knights of the carpet, 
 or knights of the green cloth, to distinguish them from knights 
 that are dubbed as soldiers in the field ; though in these days they 
 are created or dubbed with the like ceremony as the others are, 
 by the stroke of a naked sword upon the shoulder." 
 
 397. so do not I : That is. " I do not yet believe myself, when 
 from this accident I gather hope of my brother's life." 
 
 142
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Notes 
 
 ACT FOURTH. 
 
 Scene I. 
 
 20. There 's money for thec : Lloyd notes this parallel : " Viola 
 in the first Scene, her shipwreck notwithstanding, and from 
 funds which we do not impeach poetical omnipotence by inquiring 
 into, pays the Captain bounteously for cheering hopes, ' for saying 
 so there 's gold.' The incident has its use in removing from her 
 from the first the unpleasant associations of necessity, and leaving 
 us at ease in the freedom of her actions and inclinations; but it 
 also enables us to recognize in the ' open hand ' of Sebastian, 
 when he gives money to the troublesome Clown, the expression 
 of twin disposition with his sister." 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 24. 25. Malvolio the lunatic : " The Malvolio of the madhouse." 
 says Herford, " is a figure some degrees less comic than the Mal- 
 volio of the garden-scene, and his indignant yet tempered protest, 
 when released, insensibly excites in the modern reader a sympathy 
 which removes him for the moment from the region of comedy 
 altogether." 
 
 61. woodcock: The Clown mentions a woodcock, because it 
 was proverbial as a foolish bird, and therefore a proper ancestor 
 for a man out of his wits. 
 
 98. the minister is here: The Clown, in the dark, acts two 
 persons, and counterfeits, by variation of voice, a dialogue between 
 himself and Sir Topas ; the preceding part of this speech being 
 spoken as Clown, the following as Priest. 
 
 128. vice : The vice was the fool of the old moralities. He was 
 grotesquely dressed in a cap with ass's ears, and a long coat, and 
 carried a dagger or lath. One of his chief employments was to 
 make sport with the devil, leaping on his back and belabouring 
 him with his dagger, till he made him roar. The devil, however, 
 always carried him off in the end. The moral was, that sin, which 
 has the courage to make very merry with the devil, and is allowed 
 by him to take very great liberties, must finally become his prey. 
 The lines which close this Scene are probably a part of some well- 
 known old comic song, resounding the exploits of that ancient 
 theatrical personification, the vice. 
 
 143
 
 Notes TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 i. Hudson thus continues his "abstract" of Barnaby Rich: 
 " Meanwhile Silla's brother, the right Silvio indeed, had returned 
 home to Cyprus ; and was much grieved to find her missing, whom 
 he loved the more tenderly for that, besides being his own sister, 
 she was so like him in person and feature that no one could dis- 
 tinguish them, save by their apparel. Learning how she had dis- 
 appeared, and supposing that Pedro had seduced and stolen her 
 away, he vowed to his father that he would not only seek out his 
 sister, but take revenge on the servant. In this mind he departed, 
 and, after seeking through many towns and cities in vain, arrived 
 at Constantinople. One evening, as he was walking for recreation 
 on a pleasant green without the walls of the city, he chanced to 
 meet the lady Julina, who had also gone forth to take the air. 
 Casting her eyes upon Silvio, and thinking him to be the messen- 
 ger that had so often done enchantment upon her, she drew him 
 aside, and soon courted him into a successful courtship of herself. 
 Of course she was not long in getting tied up beyond the Duke's 
 hope." 
 
 ACT FIFTH. 
 Scene I. 
 
 20. conclusions to be as kisses: Warburton thought this should 
 read, " conclusion to be asked, is " ; upon which Coleridge re- 
 marks : " Surely Warburton could never have wooed by kisses 
 and won, or he would not have flounder-flatted so just and humor- 
 ous, nor less pleasing than humorous, an image into so profound 
 a nihility. In the name of love and wonder, do not four kisses 
 make a double affirmative? The humour lies in the whispered 
 ' No ! ' and the inviting ' Don't ! ' with which the maiden's kisses 
 are accompanied, and thence compared to negatives, which by 
 repetition constitute an affirmative." 
 
 158. interchangemcnt of your rings: In ancient espousals the 
 man received as well as gave a ring. 
 
 164. on thy casef The skin of a fox or rabbit was often called 
 its case. So in Gary's Present State of England, 1626: "Queen 
 Elizabeth asked a knight, named Young, how he liked a company 
 of brave ladies. He answered, As I like my silver-haired conies 
 at home : the cases are far better than the bodies." 
 
 144
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Notes 
 
 269-272. And all those sayings, etc. : It is observable that the 
 Poet has left it uncertain whether Viola was in love with the Duke 
 before the assumption of her disguise, or whether her heart was 
 won afterwards by reading " the book even of his secret soul " 
 while wooing another. Nor does it much matter whether her 
 passion were one of the motives, or one of the consequences, of 
 her disguise, since in either case such a man as Olivia describes 
 him to be might well find his way to tougher hearts than hers. 
 But her love has none of the skittishness and unrest which mark 
 the Duke's passion for Olivia ; complicated out of all the elements 
 of her richly-gifted, sweetly-tempered nature, it is strong without 
 violence ; never mars the innate modesty of her character ; is deep 
 as life, tender as infancy, pure, peaceful, and unchangeable as 
 truth, 
 
 326. Your master's mistress : Hudson concludes his " abstract " 
 of Barnaby Rich : " The appearance of Silla's brother forthwith 
 brings about a full disclosure what and who she is ; whereupon the 
 Duke, seeing the lady widow now quite beyond his reach, and 
 learning what precious riches are already his in the form of a 
 serving-man, transfers his heart to Silla, and takes her to his 
 bosom." 
 
 362. Maria writ the letter, etc. : " Now Maria writ the letter," 
 says Daniel, " at the ' importance ' of her own love of mischief ; 
 the plot originated entirely with her, though Sir Toby and the 
 rest eagerly joined in it. And when could Sir Toby have found 
 time for the marriage ceremony on this morning which has 
 been so fully occupied by the plots on Malvolio and Sir Andrew 
 Aguecheek? It could not have been since he last left the stage, 
 for he was then drunk and wounded, and sent off to bed to have 
 his hurts looked to." 
 
 389-408. When that I, etc. : " It is to be regretted, perhaps," 
 says Staunton, " that this ' nonsensical ditty, ' as Steevens terms 
 it, has not long since been degraded to the foot-notes. It was 
 evidently one of those jigs with which it was the rude custom of 
 the Clown to gratify the groundlings upon the conclusion of a 
 play. These absurd compositions, intended only as a vehicle for 
 buffoonery, were usually improvisations of the singer, tagged to 
 some popular ballad-burden, or the first lines of various songs 
 strung together in ludicrous juxtaposition, at the end of each of 
 which the performer indulged in hideous grimace and a gro- 
 tesque sort of ' Jump Jim Crow ' dance." Weiss, however, finds 
 it somewhat of more significance : " When the play is over, the 
 
 145
 
 Notes TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 Duke plighted to his page, Olivia rightly married to the wrong 
 man, and the whole romantic ravel of sentiment begins to be 
 attached to the serious conditions of life, Feste is left alone upon 
 the stage. Then he sings a song which conveys to us his feeling 
 of the world's impartiality: all things proceed according to law; 
 nobody is humoured ; people must abide the consequences of their 
 actions, ' for the rain it raineth every day.' A ' little tiny boy ' 
 may have his toy ; but a man must guard against knavery and 
 thieving: marriage itself cannot be sweetened by swaggering; 
 whoso drinks with ' toss-pots ' will get a ' drunken head ' : it is 
 a very old world, and began so long ago that no change in its 
 habits can be looked for. The grave insinuation of this song is 
 touched with the vague, soft bloom of the play. As the noises of 
 the land come over sea well-tempered to the ears of islanders, so 
 the world's fierce, implacable roar reaches us in the song, sifted 
 through an air that hangs full of the Duke's dreams, of Viola's 
 pensive love, of the hours which music nattered. The note is 
 hardly more presageful than the cricket's stir in the late silence of 
 a summer. How gracious hath Shakespeare been to mankind in 
 this play ! He could not do otherwise than leave Feste all alone 
 to pronounce its benediction ; for his heart was a nest of songs 
 whence they rose to whistle with the air of wisdom. Alas for the 
 poor fool in Lear who sang to drown the cries from a violated 
 nest ! " 
 
 146
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL 
 
 Questions on Twelfth Night. 
 
 1. What position in the time-scheme of Shakespeare's comedies 
 does this one occupy? 
 
 2. Give the meaning of the play. 
 
 3. What characters of this play and what parts of the action 
 were original with Shakespeare? 
 
 4. What resemblances in parts does this comedy bear to earlier 
 ones of Shakespeare? 
 
 ACT FIRST. 
 
 5. In what way does the opening passage indicate the theme 
 and the atmosphere of the play? 
 
 6. Indicate your impression of the Duke, derived from his 
 opening speech. In what sense does Shakespeare here and else- 
 where use the word fancy? 
 
 7. To what kind of a life had Olivia devoted herself previous to 
 the opening of the play? 
 
 8. Is such word-play as Illyria-Elysium common in Shake- 
 speare? 
 
 9. How is Sebastian introduced into the play, and what feeling 
 is conveyed as to his fate? What is indicated by the degree of 
 attention given to him? 
 
 10. What two facts does Viola furnish about Orsino ? How do 
 these facts assist the moral credibility of the plot? 
 
 11. What design has Viola evidently formed as indicated in Sc. 
 ii. 42 et scq. ? 
 
 12. Does the question of means of maintenance enter into 
 Viola's thought of her future ? , 
 
 13. Do Sir Toby and Maria declare themselves as lovers in 
 Sc. iii.? How is Sir Andrew's part in the action made clear to 
 the spectator? 
 
 14. What mental qualities does Sir Andrew exhibit in his scene 
 with Sit Toby and Maria? 
 
 147
 
 Questions TWELFTH NIGHT; 
 
 15. Why did the Duke not woo for himself? What directions 
 concerning her mission does he give Viola? 
 
 16. What manner of life does the Duke affect? 
 
 17. Interpret (Sc. v.) God give them wisdom that have it; and 
 those that are fools, let them use their talents. 
 
 18. In what danger of his position does the Clown stand at the 
 opening of the comedy? How does he reestablish himself in 
 Olivia's favour? What is his comment on her mourning? 
 
 19. What is Malvolio's opinion of Feste? Account for his 
 spleen. 
 
 20. How does Olivia retort upon Malvolio? 
 
 21. What parleying occurs before Viola is introduced to Olivia? 
 How was the scene between Olivia and Sir Toby foreshadowed? 
 
 22. Consider Malvolio's way of reporting the persistence of the 
 Duke's messenger in the light of his opinion of professional fools. 
 Does he here make himself one of the fools' sanies? 
 
 23. What touch of humour does Viola give to her reply when 
 asked if she is a comedian? 
 
 24. In her interview with Olivia, how does Viola in effect say 
 all that the Duke would have her say, and yet avoid the banality 
 of repeating his love- speech? 
 
 25. Compare the situations in Twelfth Night and As You Like 
 It of a woman falling in love with a disguised woman; from the 
 point of view of Olivia and Phebe what was there in the situation 
 to interest Shakespeare? 
 
 26. Review the causes for the action that the first Act has laid 
 down. 
 
 ACT SECOND. 
 
 27. What element of the plot was not introduced in the first 
 Act? 
 
 28. What tribute to Viola does Sebastian offer that would 
 disprove any possible theory that Viola used artifice in attracting 
 Olivia's attention, and thus assisting her own case with the Duke? 
 
 29. Explain the friendship of Antonio and Sebastian. 
 
 30. How does Viola discover that Olivia has fallen in love with 
 her? In her review of the facts what conclusion does she reach? 
 Imagine Helena so placed: how would she have decided? 
 
 31. Compare Sir Andrew's and Malvolio's attitude towards the 
 Clown. What traits are put to Sir Andrew's advantage? How 
 does Sir Andrew compare his own and Sir Toby's fooling? 
 
 148
 
 OR. WHAT YOU WILL Questions 
 
 32. In selecting the song for the Clown to sing, why was the 
 choice made of a love-song? 
 
 33. How is the antagonism of Malvolio foreshadowed? How 
 is Malvolio's lack of imagination indicated by Sir Toby? 
 
 34. Was Malvolio a Puritan? What was the reason for Maria's 
 special animus against him? 
 
 35. What attitude as lovers do the men of the under plot take 
 in common ? 
 
 36. What conviction does the Duke hold of his own constancy? 
 How does Feste comment on the fact of it later? 
 
 37. What is the Duke's comment on marriage? How has it 
 been interpreted as a personal confession of the Poet ? In holding 
 the view that Shakespeare embodied a personal opinion, is there 
 any antagonism to the canon of dramatic art that demands ob- 
 jectivity? 
 
 38. Does the situation and veiled confession of Viola controvert 
 the assertion of Orsino (iv. 95 et seq.) as to woman's love? 
 
 39. Is there a noticeable increase in intensity of passion in the 
 Duke as he dismisses Viola on the second quest? 
 
 40. Why is Fabian made the third auditor, instead of the fool, 
 as Maria had promised? What grievance had Fabian against 
 Malvolio ? 
 
 41. How does this scene resemble the one in All's Well that 
 Ends Well when Parolles is put to his questions? 
 
 42. What are Malvolio's ambitions? What had evidently been 
 Olivia's attitude towards him previously? 
 
 43. Who of the listeners takes the most unalloyed joy in the 
 absurd exhibition of Malvolio? Is there aTiy purpose in bringing 
 one in to see the thing from the motive of pure love of fun ? 
 
 44. What quality does Malvolio chiefly lack? Where is this 
 shown ironically ? 
 
 ACT THIRD. 
 
 45. What are Viola's comments on the office of the fool? Does 
 the passage between Viola and the Clown contribute anything to 
 the progress of the plot? 
 
 46. How is the device of the ring that Olivia sent after Viola 
 disposed of? 
 
 47. To what artifice does Olivia resort for securing the con- 
 tinued visits of Viola? Contrast the intellectual sincerity of the 
 
 149
 
 Questions TWELFTH NIGHT ; 
 
 two women, having in view the increased difficulties of Viola's 
 position. 
 
 48. What is the reason of Sir Andrew's discouragement over 
 his wooing of Olivia? How is this motive made to furnish one 
 of the comic episodes of the play? How is assurance made that 
 the episode will be comic? 
 
 49. How is postponement effected to bring on the Malvolio epi- 
 sode previously prepared for? 
 
 50. How is expectation as a dramatic effect wrought to a high 
 pitch? 
 
 51. What is the purpose of the stay in the action that gives 
 place to Sc. iii. ? 
 
 52. What elements of this Scene contribute to the complication? 
 
 53. How is the occasion for the duel between Viola and Sir 
 Andrew provided? 
 
 54. What dramatic necessity requires that the scene of Mal- 
 volio's fatuousness before Olivia be played during the absence of 
 the knights? 
 
 55. What subtle analysis of Malvolio's infatuation does Sir 
 Toby make? How is the practical joke continued? 
 
 56. Show how the complication of the drama is completed at 
 the duel scene. Without providential interference, could Viola 
 have extricated herself from the situation? 
 
 57. What is the dramatic purpose of Antonio's mistake in sup- 
 posing Viola to be Sebastian ? 
 
 58. What is foreshadowed in Sir Andrew's sudden revival of 
 valour ? 
 
 ACT FOURTH. 
 
 59. Does the Clown seem merely avaricious, or is there some 
 apprehensiveness and provision for the future in his thought ? 
 
 60. What purpose do you see in Shakespeare's not bringing the 
 fool into the comic scenes of the third Act? 
 
 61. Do the mystifications of Sebastian partake of the nature of 
 elements in the resolution? 
 
 62. Why does Feste dress the part of the parson, since Malvolio, 
 whom he is to deceive, is out of sight? 
 
 63. What satire is intended in the dialogue between Malvolio 
 and Feste disguised as Sir Topas? 
 
 64. In what way is the practical joke upon Malvolio brought to 
 an end? 
 
 ISO
 
 OR, WHAT YOU WILL Questions 
 
 65. Does Shakespeare, in the soliloquy that Sebastian utters in 
 Sc. iii., covertly insinuate that love is a kind of rnadness, even 
 though the particular acts that bear such a stamp in the eyes of 
 Sebastian are understood by the spectators to be within reason ? 
 What interpretation do you put upon Sebastian's readiness to 
 plight troth with Olivia? 
 
 ACT FIFTH. 
 
 66. What is the effect of the two accusations put upon Viola 
 by Antonio and by Olivia, and of her rejection by the Duke? 
 
 67. Do not Malvolio's words in the second Act. 'Tis but for- 
 tune; all is fortune, furnish the key to the resolutions in this 
 play? 
 
 68. What is effected by the comic interlude where the two 
 knights appear with broken heads? 
 
 69. Is the scene of recognition convincing, considering that the 
 brother and sister had been separated but three months? 
 
 70. Why is it that the resolution of many of Shakespeare's 
 comedies presents situations of little interest? 
 
 71. Does Malvolio end his dramatic life without conversion? 
 
 72. Comment on the suitability of the concluding song to the 
 temper of the play. 
 
 73. Are any of Shakespeare's other masquerading maidens in- 
 volved in such funny consequential situations as Viola? 
 
 74. Comment on the sense of humour which helps her out in 
 her encounters with the women of the play. 
 
 75. Describe the three kinds of lovers that beset Olivia. Why 
 does Sir Andrew never come into audience with her? 
 
 76. Indicate some points of Sir Toby's character. What fitness 
 was there in the match between him and Maria ? Comment on 
 Maria's intellectual qualities. 
 
 77. What kinship exists between Sir Andrew, Shallow, and 
 Slender? 
 
 78. What was Shakespeare's purpose in dividing the fun- 
 making function between Fabian and the Clown? What is Fa- 
 bian's dominant trait? 
 
 79. Comment on some of the following points in the Clown's 
 character : his knowledge of the world and insight into the true 
 characters of those about him ; his refinement ; his love of fun ;
 
 Questions 
 
 his prudence : his melancholy. What of his personal detachment 
 from the action of the play? 
 
 80. Malvolio presents what Puritan qualities of the time? How 
 is the Puritan prohibition of bear-baiting dealt with through him? 
 As a lover, what makes him absurd ? How near to him do lovers 
 of the type of Benedick approach ? 
 
 81. What view of love and marriage is subsumed in this play? 
 
 82. Hazlitt, in his essay on this play, distinguishes three kinds 
 of comedy ; namely, comedy of artificial life, comedy of senti- 
 ment, and comedy of nature. To which of these would you 
 assign Twelfth Night? 
 
 152
 
 The Tragedy of Othello
 
 Desdemona
 
 THE TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO. 
 
 Preface. 
 
 The Early Editions. The First Edition of Othello 
 was a Quarto, published in 1622, with the following title- 
 page : 
 
 " THE j Tragoedy of Othello, | The Moore of Venice. [ 
 As it hath beene diners times acted at the \ Globe, and at 
 the Black-Friers, by j his Maiesties Seruants. \ Written 
 by William Shakespeare. | [Vignette] | LONDON, | Printed 
 by N. O. for Thomas Walkley, and are to be sold at his | 
 shop, at the Eagle and Child, in Brittans Bursse. | 1622." * 
 
 In 1623 appeared the First Folio, containing Othello 
 among the "Tragedies" (pp. 310-339) ; the text, how- 
 ever, was not derived from the same source as the First 
 Quarto; an independent MS. must have been obtained. 
 In addition to many improved readings, the play as printed 
 in the Folio contained over one hundred and fifty verses 
 omitted in the earlier edition, while, on the other hand, 
 ten or fifteen lines in the Quarto were not represented in 
 the Folio version. Thomas Walkley had not resigned his 
 interest in the play ; it is clear from the Stationers' Regis- 
 
 * Prefixed to this First Quarto were the following lines : 
 " The Stationer to the Reader. 
 
 " To set forth a booke without an Epistle, were like to the old 
 English prouerbe, A blew coat without a badge, & the Author 
 being dead, I thought good to take that piece of worke upon mee: 
 To commend it, I will not, for that which is good I hope euery 
 man will commend, without interaty : and I am the bolder, because 
 the author's name is sufficient to vent his worke. Thus leauing 
 cucry one to the liberty of iudgement: I haue ventered to print 
 this play, and leaue it to the generall censure. Yours, Thomas 
 Walkley."
 
 Preface TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 ter that it remained his property until March 1st, 1627 
 (i.e. 1628) when he assigned " ORTHELLO the More of 
 Venice " unto Richard Hawkins, who issued the Second 
 Quarto in 1630. A Third Quarto appeared in 1655 ; and 
 later Quartos in 1681, 1687, 1695. 
 
 The text of modern editions of the play is based on that 
 of the First Folio, though it is not denied that we have in 
 the First Quarto a genuine play-house copy; a notable 
 difference, pointing to the Quarto text as the older, is its 
 retention of oaths and asseverations, which are omitted or 
 toned down in the Folio version. 
 
 Date of Composition. This last point has an impor- 
 tant bearing on the date of the play, for it proves that 
 Othello was written before the Act of Parliament was 
 issued in 1606 against the abuse of the name of God in 
 plays. External and internal evidence seem in favour of 
 1604 as the birth-year of the tragedy, and this date has 
 been generally accepted since the publication of the Vari- 
 orum Shakespeare of 1821, wherein Malone's views in 
 favour of that year were set forth ( Malone had died nine 
 years before the work appeared ) . After putting forward 
 various theories, he added : " We know it was acted in 
 1604, and I have therefore placed it in that year." For 
 twenty years scholars sought in vain to discover upon 
 what evidence he knew this important fact, until at last, 
 about the year 1840, Peter Cunningham announced his 
 discovery of certain Accounts of the Revels at Court, con- 
 taining the following item : 
 
 " By the King's ' Hallamas Day, being the first of Nov, 
 Matis Plaicrs. A play at the bankettinge House att 
 Whitehall, called the Moor of Venis 
 
 [1604]."'* 
 
 We now know that this manuscript was a forgery, but 
 strange to say, there is every reason to believe that though 
 ' the book ' itself is spurious, the information which it 
 
 * v. Shakespeare Society Publications, 1842.
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Preface 
 
 yields is genuine, and that Malone had some such entry 
 in his possession when he wrote his emphatic statement 
 (vide Grant White's account of the whole story, quoted 
 in Furness' Variorum edition ; cp. pp. 351-357). 
 
 The older school of critics, and Malone himself at first, 
 assigned the play to circa 1611 on the strength of the lines, 
 III. iv. 46, 47 : 
 
 ' The hearts of old gave hands ; 
 
 But our new heraldry is hands not hearts' 
 
 which seemed to be a reference to the arms of the order 
 of Baronets, instituted by King James in 161 1 ; Malone, 
 however, in his later edition of the play aptly quoted a 
 passage from the Essays of Sir William Cornwallis, the 
 younger, published in 1601, which may have suggested 
 the thought to Shakespeare: "They (our forefathers) 
 had "wont to give their hands and their hearts together, 
 but zve think it a finer grace to look asquint, our hand 
 looking one way, and our heart another." 
 
 The Original Othello. From the elegy on the death 
 of Richard Burbage in the year 1618, it appears that the 
 leading character of the play was assigned to this most 
 famous actor : 
 
 " But let me not forget one chief est part 
 Wherein, beyond the rest, he mov'd the heart, 
 The grieved Moor, made jealous by a slave, 
 Who sent his wife to fill a timeless grave, 
 Then slew himself upon the bloody bed. 
 All these and many more with him are dead."* 
 
 The Source of the Plot. The story of ' II Moro di 
 Venezia ' was taken from the Heccatommithi of the Italian 
 novelist Giraldi Cinthio ; it is the seventh tale of the third 
 decade, which deals with " The unfaithfulness of Hus- 
 bands and Wives." No English translation of the novel 
 
 * v. Ingleby's Centurie of Prayse (New Shak. Soc.), 2nd edi- 
 tion, p. 131, where the elegy is discussed, and a truer version 
 printed.
 
 Preface TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 existed in Shakespeare's time (at least we know of none), 
 but a French translation appeared in the year 1584, and 
 through this medium the work may have come to Eng- 
 land. Cinthio's novel may have been of Oriental origin, 
 and in its general character it somewhat resembles the tale 
 of The Three Apples in The Thousand and One Nights: 
 on the other hand it has been ingeniously maintained that 
 " a certain Christophal Moro, a Luogotenente di Cipro, 
 who returned from Cyprus in 1508, after having lost his 
 wife, was the original of the Moor of Venice of Giraldi 
 Cinthio." " Fronting the summit of the Giants' Stair," 
 writes Mr. Rawdon Brown, the author of this theory, 
 " where the Doges of Venice were crowned, there are 
 still visible four shields spotted with mulberries (straw- 
 berries in the description of Desdemona's handkerchief), 
 indicating that that part of the palace portal on which they 
 are carved was terminated in the reign of Christopher 
 Moro, whose insignia are three mulberries sable and three 
 bends azure on a field argent ; the word Moro signifying 
 in Italian either mulberry-tree or blackamoor." Perhaps 
 Shakespeare learnt the true story of his Othello from 
 some of the distinguished Venetians in England ; " Cin- 
 thio's novel would never have sufficed him for his 
 Othello "* (vide Furness, pp. 372-389. Knowing, how- 
 ever, Shakespeare's transforming power, we may well 
 maintain that, without actual knowledge of Christopher 
 Moro's history, he was capable of creating Othello from 
 Cinthio's savage Moor, lago from the cunning cowardly 
 ensign of the original, the gentle lady Desdemona from 
 " the virtuous lady of marvellous beauty, named Discle- 
 
 * The title of the novel summarises its contents as follows : 
 " A Moorish Captain takes to a wife a Venetian Dame, and his 
 Ancient accuses her of adultery to her husband : it is planned 
 that the Ancient is to kill him whom he believes to be the adul- 
 terer: the Captain kills the woman, is accused by the Ancient, the 
 Moor does not confess, but after the infliction of extreme torture, 
 is banished; and the wicked Ancient, thinking to injure others, 
 provided for himself a miserable death."'
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Preface 
 
 mona (i.e. 'the hapless one'),"* who is beaten to death 
 " with a stocking filled with sand/' Cassio and Emilia 
 from the vaguest possible outlines. The tale should be 
 read side by side with the play by such as desire to study 
 the process whereby a not altogether artless tale of hor- 
 rorf has become the subtlest of tragedies " perhaps the 
 greatest work in the world."J " The most pathetic of 
 human compositions. '' 
 
 " Dreams, Books, are each a world : and books, we know, 
 Are a substantial world, both pure and good ; 
 Round them with tendrils strong as flesh and blood, 
 Our pastime and our happiness will grow. 
 There find I personal theme, a plenteous store, 
 Matter wherein right voluble I am, 
 To which I listen with a ready ear ; 
 Two shall be named pre-eminently dear, 
 The gentle Lady married to the Moor : 
 And heavenly Una, with her milk-white Lamb." 
 
 * This is the only name given by Cinthio. Steevens first pointed 
 out that " Othello " is found in Reynold's God's Revenge against 
 Adultery, standing in one of his arguments as follows: "She 
 marries Othello, an old German soldier." The name " lago " also 
 occurs in the book. It is also found in " The first and second 
 part of the History of the famous Euordanus, Prince of Den- 
 mark. With the strange adventures of logo, Prince of Saxonie: 
 and of both their several fortunes in Love. At London, 1605." 
 
 f Mrs. Jameson rightly calls attention to a striking incident of 
 the original story : Desdemona does not accidentally drop the 
 handkerchief: it is stolen from her by lago's little child, an infant 
 of three years old, whom he trains and bribes to the theft. The 
 love of Desdemona for this child, her little playfellow the pretty 
 description of her taking it in her arms and caressing it, while 
 it profits by its situation to steal the handkerchief from her bosom, 
 are well imagined and beautifully told, etc. 
 
 $ Macaulay. 
 
 Wordsworth " The tragedy of Othello, Plato's records of the 
 last scenes in the career of Socrates, and Izaak Walton's Life of 
 George Herbert are the most pathetic of human compositions." 
 (A valuable summary of criticisms, English and foreign, will be 
 found in Furness's Othello, pp. 407-453.)
 
 Preface TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 Duration of Action. The action seems to cover three 
 days : Act I., one day. Interval for voyage. Act II., 
 one day. Acts III., IV., V., one day. In order to get 
 over the difficulty of this time-division various theories 
 have been advanced, notably that of Double Time, pro- 
 pounded by Halpin and Wilson ; according to the latter, 
 " Shakespeare counts off days and hours, as it were, by 
 two clocks, on one of which the true Historic Time is 
 recorded, and on the other the Dramatic Time, or a false 
 show of time, whereby days, weeks, and months may be 
 to the utmost contracted " (Furness, pp. 358-372). 
 
 According to Mr. Fleay, the scheme of time for the 
 play is as follows : 
 
 Act I., one day. Interval for voyage. Act II., one 
 day. Act III., one day (Sunday). Interval of a week, at 
 least. Act IV. Sc. i., ii., iii. ; Act V. Sc. i., ii., iii., one 
 day: where Act IV. begins with what is now Act III. 
 Sc. iv., and Act V. with the present Act IV. Sc. iii.
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE 
 
 Critical Comments, 
 i. 
 
 Argument. 
 
 I. Desdemona, a beautiful and high-born Venetian 
 maiden, is wooed and won by Othello, a Moorish gen- 
 eral, whose dusky skin cannot conceal a chivalrous and 
 adventurous spirit such as women love. Desdemona's 
 father, Brabantio, learning of their secret marriage, is 
 much incensed and goes before the Duke of Venice and 
 complains that his daughter has been stolen from him. 
 But it so happens that Othello's warlike qualities are in 
 demand upon the very night in which these affairs cul- 
 minate. He has been in the service of the Venetian 
 government, and the state now requires his presence in 
 Cypress to oppose a Turkish fleet. He is therefore suf- 
 fered to depart in peace with his wife Desdemona, espe- 
 cially since she, in the council chamber, declares her love 
 and confidence in him. 
 
 II. lago, Othello's ancient or ensign, has sworn se- 
 cret enmity against his master because the Moor raised 
 Cassio instead of himself to the chief lieutenancy. The 
 enmity has taken the form of carefully laid plots, which 
 began with the very nuptial night of Othello. In 
 Cyprus, whither Othello and his train repair, the plots 
 have abundant time for ripening. A storm has wrecked 
 the Turkish fleet, and Othello remains in command on 
 land amid a general revelry, authorized by him, to cele- 
 brate the dispersion of the enemy and in honor of his 
 own nuptials. During the feasting lago makes Cassio 
 drunk and involves him in a street brawl. Othello ar- 
 rives on the scene and deprives the officer of his lieuten- 
 ancy. 
 
 7
 
 Comments TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 III. lago advises Cassio to sue for favor and restora- 
 tion of rank through Desdemona, since Othello will deny 
 her nothing. Cassio, unsuspicious of treachery, obtains 
 an interview with her, and lago lures Othello to the 
 scene innocent enough, but greeted by lago with an 
 ominous shake of the head. Othello, seeing the ges- 
 ture, questions his ensign, whereupon the latter instils 
 the poison of jealousy into his master's ears, making 
 him to doubt Desdemona's relations with Cassio. The 
 doubt is intensified when that lady, in the kindness of her 
 heart, intercedes for Cassio. Henceforward lago loses 
 no opportunity to add to his master's jealousy. He 
 procures by stealth a handkerchief given by Othello to 
 Desdemona, and causes it to be found in Cassio's pos- 
 session. 
 
 IV. Othello becomes convinced that his wife has 
 been untrue to him. He determines upon her death, 
 and charges his supposed friend lago with the task of 
 despatching Cassio. Nothing loth, lago embroils Cas- 
 sio in a night combat with Roderigo, a former suitor 
 of Desdemona's, entangled in the meshes of lago. 
 
 V. Cassio wounds Roderigo. lago desires the death 
 of both, and so, unseen, stabs Cassio. Meanwhile 
 Othello goes to Desdemona's bedchamber and smothers 
 her to death. Emilia, the wife of lago and devoted 
 servant of Desdemona, proves to Othello that the wife 
 he has just murdered is innocent. lago kills Emilia. 
 Othello wounds lago, then kills himself. Cassio, who 
 still lives, is advanced to the government of Cyprus, 
 lago is reserved for lingering torture. 
 
 II. 
 lago and Roderigo. 
 
 Admirable is the preparation, so truly and peculiarly 
 Shakespearian, in the introduction of Roderigo, as the 
 dupe on whom lago shall first exercise his art, and in 
 
 8
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Comments 
 
 so doing display his own character. Roderigo, without 
 any fixed principle, but not without the moral notions 
 and sympathies with honour, which his rank and con- 
 nections had hung upon him, is already well fitted and 
 predisposed for the purpose; for very want of character 
 and strength of passion, like wind loudest in an empty 
 house, constitute his character. The first three lines 
 happily state the nature and foundation of the friendship 
 between him and lago the purse as also the con- 
 trast of Roderigo's intemperance of mind with lago's 
 coolness the coolness of a preconceiving experimenter. 
 The mere language of protestation 
 
 If ever I did dream of such a matter, abhor me 
 
 which falling in with the associative link, determines 
 Roderigo's continuation of complaint 
 
 Thou told'st me, thou didst hold him in thy hate 
 
 elicits at length a true feeling of lago's mind, the dread 
 of contempt habitual to those, who encourage in them- 
 selves, and have their keenest pleasure in, the expression 
 of contempt for others. Observe lago's high self- 
 opinion, and the moral, that a wicked man will employ 
 real feelings, as well as assume those most alien from his 
 own, as instruments of his purposes : 
 
 And. by the faith of man, 
 I know my place, I am worth no worse a place. 
 
 I think Tyrwhitt's reading of " life " for " wife " 
 A fellow almost damn'd in a fair wife 
 
 the true one, as fitting to lago's contempt for whatever 
 did not display power, and that intellectual power. In 
 what follows, let the reader feel how by and through 
 the glass of two passions, disappointed vanity and envy, 
 the very vices of which he is complaining, are made to 
 act upon him as if they were so many excellences, and 
 the more appropriately, because cunning is always ad- 
 mired and wished for bv minds conscious of inward
 
 Comments TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 weakness; but they act only by half, like music on an 
 inattentive auditor, swelling" the thoughts which pre- 
 vent him from listening to it. 
 
 COLERIDGE: Notes and Lectures upon Shakespeare. 
 
 Roderigo thinks he is buying up lago's talents and 
 efforts. This is just what lago means to have him 
 think; and it is something doubtful which glories most, 
 the one in having money to bribe talents, or the other 
 in having wit to catch money. Still it is plain enough 
 that lago, with a pride of intellectual mastery far 
 stronger than his love of lucre, cares less for the money 
 than for the fun of wheedling and swindling others 
 out of it. ... 
 
 Still, to make his scheme work, he must allege some 
 reasons for his purpose touching the Moor: for Rod- 
 erigo, gull though he be, is not so gullible as to entrust 
 his cause to a groundless treachery; he must know 
 something of the strong provocations which have led 
 lago to cherish such designs. lago understands this 
 perfectly: he therefore pretends a secret grudge against 
 Othello, which he is but holding in till he can find or 
 make a fit occasion; and therewithal assigns such 
 grounds and motives as he knows will secure faith in 
 his pretence; whereupon the other gets too warm with 
 the anticipated fruits of his treachery to suspect any 
 similar designs on himself. Wonderful indeed are the 
 arts whereby the rogue wins and keeps his ascendancy 
 over the gull! During their conversation, we can almost 
 see the former worming himself into the latter, like a 
 corkscrew into a cork. 
 
 HUDSON : The Works of Shakespeare. 
 
 lago has no other aim than his own advantage. It 
 is the circumstance that not he, but Cassio, has been 
 appointed second in command to Othello, which first 
 sets his craft to work on subtle combinations. He 
 
 10
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Comments 
 
 coveted this post, and he will stick at nothing in order 
 to win it. In the meantime, he takes advantage of 
 every opportunity of profit that offers itself; he does 
 not hesitate to fool Roderigo out of his money and his 
 jewels. He is always masked in falsehood and hypoc- 
 risy; and the mask he has chosen is the most impene- 
 trable one, that of rough outspokenness, the straight- 
 forward, honest bluntness of the soldier who does not 
 care what others think or say of him. He never flatters 
 Othello or Desdemona, or even Roderigo. He is the 
 free-spoken, honest friend. 
 
 He does not seek his own advantage without side- 
 glances at others. He is mischievousness personified. 
 He does evil for the pleasure of hurting, and takes 
 active delight in the adversity and anguish of others. 
 He is that eternal envy which merit or success in others 
 never fails to irritate not the petty envy which is con- 
 tent with coveting another's honours or possessions, or 
 with holding itself more deserving of another's good 
 fortune. No; he is an ideal personification. He is 
 blear-eyed rancour itself, figuring as a great power 
 nay, as the motive force in human life. He embodies 
 the detestation for others' excellences which shows itself 
 in obstinate disbelief, suspicion, or contempt; the in- 
 stinct of hatred for all that is open, beautiful, bright, 
 good, and great. 
 
 Shakespeare not only knew that such wickedness 
 exists; he seized it and set his stamp on it, to his eternal 
 honour as a psychologist. 
 
 Every one has heard it said that this tragedy is mag- 
 nificent in so far as the true and beautiful characters of 
 Othello and Desdemona are concerned; but lago who 
 knows him? what motive underlies his conduct? what 
 can explain such wickedness? If only he had even been 
 frankly in love with Desdemona, and therefore hated 
 Othello, or had had some other incentive of a like 
 nature! 
 
 ii
 
 Comments TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 Yes, if he had been the ordinary amorous villain and 
 slanderer, everything would undoubtedly have been 
 much simpler; but, at the same time, everything would 
 have sunk into banality, and Shakespeare would here 
 have been unequal to himself. 
 
 No, no! precisely in this lack of apparent motive lies 
 the profundity and greatness of the thing. Shakespeare 
 understood this. lago in his monologues is incessantly 
 giving himself reasons for his hatred. Elsewhere, in 
 reading Shakespeare's monologues, we learn what the 
 person really is; he reveals himself directly to us; even 
 a villain like Richard III. is quite honest in his mono- 
 logues. Not so lago. This demi-devil is always try- 
 ing to give himself reason for his malignity, is always 
 half fooling himself by dwelling on half motives, : 
 which he partly believes, but disbelieves in the mai.t. 
 Coleridge has aptly designated this action of his mind: 
 " The motive-hunting of a motiveless malignity." Again 
 and again he expounds to himself that he believes Othello 
 has been too familiar with his wife, and that he will 
 avenge the dishonour. He now and then adds, to ac- 
 count for his hatred of Cassio, that he suspects him too 
 of tampering with Emilia. He even thinks it worth 
 while to allege, as a secondary motive, that he himself 
 is enamoured of Desdemona. 
 
 BRANDES : William Shakespeare. 
 
 III. 
 
 Othello. 
 
 Othello must not be considered as a negro, but a high 
 and chivalrous Moorish chief. Shakespeare learned the 
 spirit of the character from the Spanish poetry, which 
 was prevalent in England in his time. Jealousy does 
 not strike me as the point in his passion; I take it to 
 be rather an agony that the creature, whom he had 
 believed angelic, with whom he had garnered up his 
 
 12
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Comments 
 
 heart, and whom he could not help still loving, should 
 be proved impure and worthless. It was the struggle 
 not to love her. It was a moral indignation and regret 
 that virtue should so fall: " But yet the pity of it, lago! 
 O lago! the pity of it, lago! " In addition to this, 
 his honour was concerned: lago would not have suc- 
 ceeded but by hinting that his honour was compro- 
 mised. There is no ferocity in Othello; his mind is 
 majestic and composed. He deliberately determines to 
 die; and speaks his last speech with a view of showing 
 his attachment to the Venetian State, though it had 
 superseded him. 
 
 Schiller has the material Sublime; to produce an 
 effect, he sets you a whole town on fire, and throws 
 infants with their mothers into the flames, or locks up 
 a father in an old tower. But Shakespeare drops a 
 handkerchief, and the same or greater effects follow. 
 
 Lear is the most tremendous effort of Shakespeare 
 as a poet; Hamlet as a philosopher or meditator; and 
 Othello is the union of the two. There is something 
 gigantic and unformed in the former two; but in the 
 latter, everything assumes its due place and proportion, 
 and the whole mature powers of his mind are displayed 
 in admirable equilibrium. 
 
 COLERIDGE: Table Talk. 
 
 Now what is Othello? He is night. An immense 
 fatal figure. Night is amorous of day. Darkness loves 
 the dawn. The African adores the white woman. Des- 
 demona is Othello's brightness and frenzy! And then 
 how easy to him is jealousy! He is great, he is digni- 
 fied, he is majestic, he soars above all heads, he has as 
 an escort bravery, battle, the braying of trumpets, the 
 banner of war, renown, glory; he is radiant with twenty 
 victories, he is studded with stars, this Othello: but 
 he is black. And thus how soon, when jealous, the hero 
 becomes monster, the black becomes the negro! How 
 
 13
 
 Comments TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 speedily has night beckoned to death! By the side of 
 Othello, who is night, there is lago, who is evil. Evil, 
 the other form of darkness. Night is but the night of 
 the world; evil is the night of the soul. How deeply 
 black are perfidy and falsehood! To have ink or treason 
 in the veins is the same thing. Whoever has jostled 
 against imposture and perjury knows it. One must 
 blindly grope one's way with roguery. Pour hypocrisy 
 upon the break of day, and you put out the sun, and 
 this, thanks to false religions, happens to God. lago 
 near Othello is the precipice near the landslip. " This 
 way! " he says in a low voice. The snare advises 
 blindness. The being of darkness guides the black. 
 Deceit takes upon itself to give what light may be re- 
 quired by night. Jealousy uses falsehood as the blind 
 man his dog. lago the traitor, opposed to whiteness 
 and candour, Othello the negro, what can be more ter- 
 rible! These ferocities of the darkness act in unison. 
 These two incarnations of the eclipse comprise together, 
 the one roaring, the other sneering, the tragic suffocation 
 of light. 
 
 HUGO : William Shakespeare. 
 
 The Moor has for the most part been regarded as 
 specially illustrating the workings of jealousy. Whether 
 there be anything, and, if so, how much, of this passion 
 in him, may indeed be questions having two sides ; but 
 we may confidently affirm that he has no special pre- 
 disposition to jealousy; and that whatsoever of it there 
 may be in him does not grow in such a way, nor from 
 such causes, that it can justly be held as the leading 
 feature of his character, much less as his character itself; 
 though such has been the view more commonly taken 
 of him. On this point, there has been a strange ignoring 
 of the inscrutable practices in which his passion orig- 
 inates. Instead of going behind the scene, and taking 
 its grounds of judgement directly from the subject him- 
 
 14
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Comments 
 
 self, criticism has trusted overmuch in what is said of 
 him by other persons in the drama, to whom he must 
 perforce seem jealous, because they know and can 
 know nothing of the devilish cunning that has been at 
 work with him. And the common opinion has no doubt 
 been much furthered by the stage; lago's villainy being 
 represented as so open and barefaced, that the Moor 
 must have been grossly stupid or grossly jealous not 
 to see through him; whereas, in fact, so subtle is the 
 villain's craft, so close and involved are his designs, that 
 Othello deserves but the more respect and honour for 
 being taken in by him. 
 
 It seems clear enough that a passion thus self-gener- 
 ated and self-sustained ought not to be confounded with 
 a state of mind superinduced, like Othello's, by forgery 
 or external proofs, a forgery wherein himself has no 
 share but as the victim. And we may safely affirm that 
 he has no aptitude for such a passion; it is against the 
 whole grain of his mind and character. lago evidently 
 knows this; knows the Moor to be incapable of spon- 
 taneous distrust ; that he must see, before he '11 doubt ; 
 that when he doubts, he '11 prove ; and that when he has 
 proved, he will retain his honour at all events, and retain 
 his love, if it be compatible with honour. Accordingly, 
 lest the Moor should suspect himself of jealousy, lago 
 pointedly warns him to beware of it; puts him on his 
 guard against such self-delusion, that so his mind may 
 be more open to the force of evidence, and lest from 
 fear of being jealous he should entrench himself in the 
 opposite extreme, and so be proof against conviction. 
 
 The struggle, then, in Othello is not between love 
 and jealousy, but between love and honour; and lago's 
 machinations are exactly adapted to bring these two 
 latter passions into collision. Indeed it is the Moor's 
 very freedom from a jealous temper, that enables the 
 villain to get the mastery of him. Such a character 
 as his, so open, so generous, so confiding, is just the 
 
 15
 
 Comments TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 one to be taken in the strong toils of lago's cunning; 
 to have escaped them, would have argued him a par- 
 taker of the strategy under which he falls. 
 
 HUDSON : The Works of Shakespeare. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Desdemona. 
 
 At the period of the story a spirit of wild adventure 
 had seized all Europe. The discovery of both Indies 
 was yet recent; over the shores of the western hem- 
 isphere still fable and mystery hung, with all their dim 
 enchantments, visionary terrors, and golden promises! 
 perilous expeditions and distant voyages were every day 
 undertaken from hope of plunder, or mere love of en- 
 terprise : and from these the adventurers returnd with 
 tales of " antres vast and desarts wild of cannibals that 
 did each other eat of Anthropophagi, and men whose 
 heads did grow beneath their shoulders." With just 
 such stories did Raleigh and Clifford, and their follow- 
 ers, return from the New World: and thus by their 
 splendid or fearful exaggerations, which the imperfect 
 knowledge of those times could not refute, was the 
 passion for the romantic and marvellous nourished at 
 home, particularly among the women. A cavalier of 
 those days had no nearer, no surer way to his mistress's 
 heart than by entertaining her with these wondrous nar- 
 ratives. What was a general feature of his time, Shak- 
 speare seized and adapted to his purpose with the most 
 exquisite felicity of effect. Desdemona, leaving her 
 household cares in haste, to hang breathless on Othello's 
 tales, was doubtless a picture from the life; and her 
 inexperience and her quick imagination lend it an added 
 propriety: then her compassionate disposition is inter- 
 ested by all the disastrous chances, hair-breadth 'scapes, 
 and moving accidents by flood and field, of which he has 
 to tell ; and her exceeding gentleness and timidity, and 
 
 16
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Comments 
 
 her domestic turn of mind, render her more easily cap- 
 tivated by the military renown, the valour, and lofty 
 bearing of the noble Moor. . . 
 
 When Othello first outrages her in a manner which 
 appears inexplicable, she seeks and finds excuses for 
 him. She is so innocent that not only she cannot be- 
 lieve herself suspected, but she cannot conceive the ex- 
 istence of guilt in others. 
 
 Something, sure, of state. 
 
 Either from Venice, or some unhatch'd practice 
 Made demonstrable here in Cyprus to him, 
 Hath puddled his clear spirit. 
 
 'T is even so 
 
 Nay, we must think, men are not gods, 
 Nor of them look for such observances 
 As fit the bridal. 
 
 And when the direct accusation of crime is flung on her 
 in the vilest terms, it does not anger but stun her, as 
 if it transfixed her whole being; she attempts no reply, 
 no defence; and reproach or resistance never enters 
 her thought. 
 
 And there is one stroke of consummate delicacy, sur- 
 prising, when we remember the latitude of expression 
 prevailing in Shakspeare's time, and which he allowed 
 to his other women generally; she says, on recovering 
 from her stupefaction 
 
 Desd. Am I that name, lago? 
 logo. What name, sweet lady? 
 Dcsd. That which she says my lord did say I was. 
 
 So completely did Shakspeare enter into the angelic 
 refinement of the character. 
 
 Endued with that temper which is the origin of super- 
 stition in love as in religion which, in fact, makes love 
 itself a religion she not only does not utter an up- 
 braiding, but nothing that Othello does or says, no out- 
 rage, no injustice, can tear away the charm with which 
 her imagination had invested him, or impair her faith 
 
 17
 
 Comments TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 in his honour. " Would you had never seen him! " ex- 
 claims Emilia. 
 
 Dcsd. So would not I ! my love doth so approve him. 
 That even his stubbornness, his checks and frowns 
 Have grace and favour in them. 
 
 There is another peculiarity, which, in reading the 
 play of Othello, we rather feel than perceive: through the 
 whole of the dialogue appropriated to Desdemona there 
 is not one general observation. Words are with her 
 the vehicle of sentiment, and never of reflection; so that 
 I cannot find throughout a sentence of general applica- 
 tion. 
 
 MRS. JAMESON : Characteristics of Women. 
 
 V. 
 Emilia, Instrument of Nemesis. 
 
 It is lago's own wife Emilia whose quick woman's 
 wit is the first to pierce the web of intrigue, and stim- 
 ulated by sight of her murdered mistress she gives her 
 suspicions vent, though at the point of her husband's 
 sword. The principle underlying. Jiis nemesis is one 
 of the profoundest of Shakespeare's moral ideas that 
 evil not only corrupts the heart, but equally undermines 
 the judgement. To lago is applicable the biting sen- 
 tence of Junins: "Virtue and simplicity have so long 
 been synonymous that the reverse of the proposition 
 has grown into credit, and every villain fancies himself 
 a man of ability." It is because he knows himself un- 
 fettered by scruples that lago feels himself infallible, and 
 considers honest men fools; he never sees how his foul 
 thoughts have blinded his perceptive powers, and made 
 him blunder where simple men would have gone straight. 
 True, he brings infinite acuteness to bear upon the details 
 of his intrigues; but he never perceives, what the reader 
 sees at a glance, that the whole ground of his action 
 
 18
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Comments 
 
 in these intrigues his suspicions that Emilia has been 
 tampered with by Cassio and Othello is a stupid mis- 
 take, which no one with any wholesome knowledge of 
 human nature would make. And the same want of in- 
 sight into honest human nature, which made him set 
 up his atrocious schemes, is the cause now of their fail- 
 ure. He thought he had foreseen everything: it never 
 occurred to him that his wife might betray him with 
 nothing to gain by such betrayal, simply from affection 
 and horror. 
 
 I care not for thy sword ; I '11 make thee known, 
 Though I lost twenty lives. Help ! help, ho ! help ! 
 The Moor hath kill'd my mistress ! 
 
 In vain lago seeks to stop her mouth ; a few words put 
 all the suspicious circumstances together, until in rage 
 and spite lago stabs Emilia, though the blow seals his 
 own ruin. This detail is a fresh touch in the perfection 
 of the nemesis upon lago: in a sense different from what 
 he intended he is now " evened " with Othello, " wife 
 for wife." The nemesis draws items of equal retribu- 
 tion from all the intrigues of lago. It was on account 
 of Emilia that he played the villain, and it is Emilia who 
 betrays him. He had made a tool of Roderigo, and 
 the contents of the dead Roderigo 's pockets furnish the 
 final links of evidence against him. His main purpose 
 was to oust Cassio both from office and life: Cassio 
 lives to succeed Othello as Governor, and make his first 
 official act the superintendence of lago's torturing. 
 
 MOULTON : Shakespeare as a Dramatic Artist. 
 
 VI. 
 Other Characters. 
 
 The subordinate figures are worked out with hardly 
 less skill than the principal characters of the tragedy. 
 Emilia especially is inimitable good-hearted, honest, 
 
 19
 
 Comments TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 and not exactly light, but still sufficiently the daughter of 
 Eve to be unable to understand Desdemona's na'ive and 
 innocent chastity. 
 
 At the end of Act IV. (in the bedroom scene) Desde- 
 rnona asks Emilia if she believes that there really are 
 women who do what Othello accuses her of. Emilia 
 answers in the affirmative. Then her mistress asks 
 again : " Would'st thou do such a deed for all the 
 world? " and receives the jesting answer, " The world 's 
 a huge thing; it is a great price for a small vice: 
 
 " Marry, I would not do such a thing for a joint-ring, nor for 
 measures of lawn, nor for gowns, petticoats, nor caps, nor any 
 petty exhibition ; but, for the whole world ! . . . Why. the 
 wrong is but a wrong i' the world; and having the world for your 
 labour, 'tis a wrong in your own world, and you might quickly 
 make it right." 
 
 In passages like this a mildly playful note is struck in 
 the very midst of the horror. And according to his 
 habit and the custom of the times, Shakespeare also in- 
 troduces, by means of the Clown, one or two deliber- 
 ately comic passages : but the Clown's merriment is 
 subdued, as Shakespeare's merriment at this period 
 always is. 
 
 BRANDES: William Shakespeare. 
 
 Cassio is an enthusiastic admirer, almost a worshipper, 
 of Desdemona. O, that detestable code that excellence 
 cannot be loved in any form that is female, but it must 
 needs be selfish! Observe Othello's "honest," and 
 Cassio's " bold " lago, and Cassio's full guileless-hearted 
 wishes for the safety and love-raptures of Othello and 
 " the divine Desdemona." And also note the exquisite 
 circumstance of Cassio's kissing lago's wife, as if it 
 ought to be impossible that the dullest auditor should 
 not feel Cassio's religious love of Desdemona's purity, 
 lago's answers are the sneers which a proud bad intel- 
 lect feels towards women, and expresses to a wife. 
 
 20
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Comments 
 
 Surely it ought to be considered a very exalted compli- 
 ment to women, that all the sarcasms on them in Shake- 
 speare are put in the mouths of villains. 
 
 COLERIDGE : Notes and Lectures upon Shakespeare. 
 
 VII. 
 Spiritual Import of the Play. 
 
 Were Othello but the spirited portrait of a half-tamed 
 barbarian, we should view him as a bold and happy 
 poetical conception, and, as such, the Poet's work might 
 satisfy our critical judgement; but it is because it depicts 
 a noble mind, wrought by deep passion and dark devices 
 to agonies such as every one might feel, that it awakens 
 our strongest sympathies. We see in this drama a grand 
 and true moral picture; we read in it a profound ethical 
 lesson; for (to borrow the just image of the classical 
 Lowth) while the matchless work is built up to the 
 noblest height of poetry, it rests upon the deepest foun- 
 dations of true philosophy. 
 
 VERPLANCK : The Illustrated Shakespeare, 
 
 The central point of its spiritual import lies in the 
 contrast between lago and his victim. lago, with keen 
 intellectual faculties and manifold culture in Italian vice, 
 lives and thrives after his fashion in a world from which 
 all virtue and all beauty are absent. Othello, with his bar- 
 baric innocence and regal magnificence of soul, must 
 cease to live the moment he ceases to retain faith in 
 the purity and goodness which were to him the highest 
 and most real things upon earth. Or if he live, life must 
 become to him a cruel agony. Shakspere compels us 
 to acknowledge that self-slaughter is a rapturous en- 
 ergy that such prolonged agony is joy in comparison 
 with the earthy life-in-death of such a soul as that of 
 lago. The noble nature is taken in the toils because it 
 
 21
 
 Comments 
 
 is noble. lago suspects his wife of every baseness, but 
 the suspicion has no other effect than to intensify his 
 malignity. lago could not be captured and constrained 
 to heroic suffering and rage. The shame of every be- 
 ing who bears the name of woman is credible to lago, 
 and yet he can grate from his throat the jarring music: 
 
 " And let me the canakin clink, clink ! 
 And let me the canakin clink ! " 
 
 There is, therefore, Shakspere would have us under- 
 stand, something more inimical to humanity than suf- 
 fering namely, an incapacity for noble pain. To die 
 as Othello dies is indeed grievous. But to live as lago 
 lives, devouring the dust and stinging this is more ap- 
 palling. 
 
 Such is the spiritual motive that controls the tragedy. 
 And the validity of this truth is demonstrable to every 
 sound conscience. No supernatural authority needs to 
 be summoned to bear witness to this reality of human 
 life. No pallid flame of hell, no splendour of dawning 
 heaven, needs show itself beyond the verge of earth to 
 illumine this truth. It is a portion of the ascertained 
 fact of human nature, and of this our moral existence. 
 
 DOWDEN : Shakspere. 
 
 22
 
 The Tragedy of 
 Othello, The Moor of Venice.
 
 DRAMATIS PERSONAE. 
 
 DUKE OF VENICE. 
 
 BRABANTIO, a senator. 
 
 Other Senators. 
 
 GRATIANO, brother to Brabantio. 
 
 LODOVICO, kinsman to Brabantio. 
 
 OTHELLO, a noble Moor in the sen-ice of the Venetian state. 
 
 CASSIO, his lieutenant. 
 
 I AGO, his ancient. 
 
 ROPERIGO, a Venetian gentleman. 
 
 MONTANO, Othello's predecessor in the government of Cyprus. 
 
 Clown, servant to Othello. 
 
 DESDEMONA, daughter to Brabantio and zi'ife to Othello. 
 EMILIA, wife to logo. 
 BIANCA, mistress to Cassia. 
 
 Sailor, Messenger, Herald. Officers, Gentlemen, Musicians, and 
 Attendants. 
 
 SCENE: Venice: a seaport in Cyprus.
 
 The Tragedy of 
 Othello, The Moor of Venice. 
 
 ACT FIRST. 
 Scene I. 
 
 Venice. A street. 
 Enter Roderigo and logo. 
 
 Rod. Tush, never tell me; I take it much unkindly 
 That thou, lago, who hast had my purse 
 As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this. 
 
 logo. 'Sblood, but you will not hear me: 
 If ever I did dream of such a matter, 
 Abhor me. 
 
 Rod. Thou told'st me thou didst hold him in thy hate. 
 
 lago. Despise me, if I do not. Three great ones of the city, 
 In personal suit to make me his lieutenant, 
 Off-capp'd to him: and, by the faith of man, 10 
 
 I know my price, I am worth no worse a place: 
 But he, as loving his own pride and purposes, 
 Evades them, with a bombast circumstance 
 Horribly stuff 'd with epithets of war; 
 And, in conclusion, 
 
 Nonsuits my mediators; for, ' Certes,' says he, 
 ' I have already chose my officer.' 
 And w r hat was he? 
 Forsooth, a great arithmetician, 
 One Michael Cassio, a Florentine, 20 
 
 A fellow almost damn'd in a fair wife; 
 
 25
 
 Act I. Sc. i. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 That never set a squadron in the field, 
 
 Nor the division of a battle knows 
 
 More than a spinster; unless the bookish theoric, 
 
 Wherein the toged consuls can propose 
 
 As masterly as he: mere prattle without practice 
 
 Is all his soldiership. But he, sir, had the election: 
 
 And I, of whom his eyes had seen the proof 
 
 At Rhodes, at Cyprus, and on other grounds 
 
 Christian and heathen, must be be-lee'd and calm'd 
 
 By debitor and creditor: this counter-caster, 31 
 
 He, in good time, must his lieutenant be, 
 
 And I God bless the mark ! his Moorship's ancient. 
 
 Rod. By heaven, I rather would have been his hangman. 
 
 logo. Why, there 's no remedy ; 'tis the curse of service, 
 Preferment goes by letter and affection, 
 And not by old gradation, where each second 
 Stood heir to the first. Now, sir, be judge yourself 
 Whether I in any just term am affined 
 To love the Moor. 
 
 Rod. I would not follow him then. 40 
 
 lago. O, sir, content you; 
 
 I follow him to serve my turn upon him: 
 W r e 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 's old, 
 
 cashier'd: 
 
 Whip me such honest knaves. Others there are 
 Who, trimm'd in forms and visages of duty, 5 
 
 Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves, 
 And throwing but shows of service on their lords 
 26
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act I. Sc. i. 
 
 Do well thrive by them, and when they have lined 
 
 their coats 
 
 Do themselves homage : these fellows have some soul, 
 And such a one do I profess myself. 
 For, sir, 
 
 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: 60 
 
 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. 
 
 Rod. What a full fortune does the thick-lips owe, 
 If he can carry 't thus! 
 
 lago. Call up her father, 
 
 Rouse him: make after him, poison his delight, 
 Proclaim him in the streets; incense her kinsmen, 
 And, though he in a fertile climate dwell, 70 
 
 Plague him with flies: though that his joy be joy, 
 Yet throw such changes of vexation on 't 
 As it may lose some colour. 
 
 Rod. Here is her father's house; I '11 call aloud. 
 
 lago. Do; with like timorous accent and dire yell 
 As when, by night and negligence, the fire 
 Is spied in populous citres. 
 
 Rod. What, ho, Brabantio! Signior Brabantio, ho! 
 
 lago. Awake! what, ho, Brabantio! thieves! thieves! 
 
 thieves! 
 
 Look to your house, your daughter and your bags! 
 Thieves! thieves! 81 
 
 27
 
 Act I. Sc. i. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 Brabantio appears above, at a window. 
 
 Bra. What is the reason of this terrible summons? 
 What is the matter there? 
 
 Rod. Signior, is all your family within? 
 
 logo. Are your doors lock'd? 
 
 Bra. Why, wherefore ask you this? 
 
 I ago. 'Zounds, sir, you 're robb'd; for shame, put on 
 
 your gown; 
 
 Your heart is burst, you have lost half your soul; 
 Even now, now, very now, an old black ram 
 Is tupping your white ewe. Arise, arise; 
 Awake the snorting citizens with the bell, 90 
 
 Or else the devil will make a grandsire of you: 
 Arise, I say. 
 
 Bra. What, have you lost your wits? 
 
 Rod. Most reverend signior, do you know my voice? 
 
 Bra. Not I: what are you? 
 
 Rod. My name is Roderigo. 
 
 Bra. The worser welcome: 
 
 I have charged thee not to haunt about my doors: 
 In honest plainness thou hast heard me say 
 My daughter is not for thee; and now, in madness, 
 Being full of supper and distempering draughts, 
 Upon malicious bravery, dost thou come 100 
 
 To start my quiet. 
 
 Rod. Sir, sir, sir, 
 
 Bra. But thou must needs be sure 
 
 My spirit and my place have in them power 
 To make this bitter to thee. 
 
 Rod. Patience, good sir. 
 
 Bra. What tell'st thou me of robbing? this is Venice;
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act I. Sc. i. 
 
 My house is not a grange. 
 
 Rod. Most grave Brabantio, 
 
 In simple and pure soul I come to you. 
 
 logo. 'Zounds, sir, you are one of those that will not 
 serve God, if the devil bid you. Because we 
 come to do you service and you think we are no 
 ruffians, you '11 have your daughter covered with 
 a Barbary horse; you'll have your nephews 
 neigh to you; you '11 have coursers for cousins, 
 and gennets for germans. 
 
 Bra. What profane wretch art thou? 
 
 logo. I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your 
 daughter and the Moor are now making the 
 beast with two backs. 
 
 Bra. Thou art a villain. 
 
 logo. You are a senator. 119 
 
 Bra. This thou shalt answer; I know thee, Roderigo. 
 
 Rod. Sir, I will answer any thing. But, I beseech you, 
 If *t be your pleasure and most wise consent, 
 As partly I find it is, that your fair daughter, 
 At this odd-even and dull watch o' the night, 
 Transported with no worse nor better guard 
 But with a knave of common hire, a gondolier, 
 To the gross clasps of a lascivious Moor, 
 If this be known to you, and your allowance, 
 We then have done you bold and saucy wrongs ; 
 But if you know not this, my manners tell me 130 
 We have your wrong rebuke. Do not believe 
 That, from the sense of all civility, 
 I thus would play and trifle with your reverence: 
 Your daughter, if you have not given her leave, 
 I say again, hath made a gross revolt, 
 
 29
 
 Act I. Sc.i. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 Tying her duty, beauty, wit and fortunes, 
 
 In an extravagant and wheeling stranger 
 
 Of here and every where. Straight satisfy yourself: 
 
 If she be in her chamber or your house, 
 
 Let loose on me the justice of the state 140 
 
 For thus deluding you. 
 
 Bra. Strike on the tinder, ho! 
 
 Give me a taper! call up all my people! 
 This accident is not unlike my dream: 
 Belief of it oppresses me already. 
 Light, I say! light! [Exit above. 
 
 logo. Farewell ; for I must leave you : 
 
 It seems not meet, nor wholesome to my place, 
 To be produced as, if I stay, I shall 
 Against the Moor: for I do know, the state. 
 However this may gall him with some check, 
 Cannot with safety cast him : for he 's embark'd 
 With such loud reason to the Cyprus wars, 151 
 
 Which even now stand in act, that, for their souls, 
 Another of his fathom they have none 
 To lead their business: in which regard, 
 Though I do hate him as I do hell pains, 
 Yet for necessity of present life, 
 I must show out a flag and sign of love, 
 Which is indeed but sign. That you shall surely 
 
 find him, 
 
 Lead to the Sagittary the raised search ; 
 And there will I be with him. So farewell. [Exit. 
 
 Enter below, Brabantio, in his night-gown, and 
 Servants with torches. 
 
 Bra. It is too true an evil: gone she is; 161 
 
 30
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act I. Sc. ii. 
 
 And what's to come of my despised time 
 Is nought but bitterness. Now, Roderigo, 
 Where didst thou see her? O unhappy girl! 
 With the Moor, say'st thou ? Who would be a father ! 
 How didst thou know 'twas she ? O, she deceives me 
 Past thought ! W'hat said she to you ? Get more tapers. 
 Raise all my kindred. Are they married, think you? 
 
 Rod. Truly, I think they are. 
 
 Bra. O heaven! How got she out? O treason of the 
 blood! 170 
 
 Fathers, from hence trust not your daughters' minds 
 By what you see them act. Is there not charms 
 By which the property of youth and maidhood 
 May be abused? Have you not read, Roderigo, 
 Of some such thing? 
 
 Rod. Yes, sir, I have indeed. 
 
 Bra. Call up my brother. O, would you had had her! 
 Some one way, some another. Do you know 
 Where we may apprehend her and the Moor? 
 
 Rod. I think I can discover him, if you please 
 
 To get good guard and go along with me. 180 
 
 Bra. Pray you, lead on. At every house I '11 call; 
 I may command at most. Get weapons, ho! 
 And raise some special officers of night. 
 On, good Roderigo; I '11 deserve your pains. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 Another street. 
 Enter Othello, logo, and Attendants zvith torches. 
 
 Icigo. Though in the trade of war I have slain men, 
 Yet do I hold it very stuff o' the conscience
 
 Act I. Sc. ii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 To do no contrived murder: I lack iniquity 
 Sometimes to do me service : nine or ten times 
 I had thought to have yerk'd him here under the 
 ribs. 
 
 Oth. 'Tis better as it is. 
 
 lago. Nay, but he prated 
 
 And spoke such scurvy and provoking terms 
 
 Against your honour, 
 
 That, with the little godliness I have, 
 
 I did full hard forbear him. But I pray you, sir, 
 
 Are you fast married? Be assured of this, n 
 
 That the magnifico is much beloved, 
 
 And hath in his effect a voice potential 
 
 As double as the duke's: he will divorce you, 
 
 Or put upon you what restraint and grievance 
 
 The law, with all his might to enforce it on, 
 
 Will give him cable. 
 
 Oth. Let him do his spite: 
 
 My services, which I have done the signiory, 
 Shall out-tongue his complaints. 'Tis yet to know 
 Which, when I know that boasting is an honour, 20 
 I shall promulgate I fetch my life and being 
 From men of royal siege, and my demerits 
 May speak unbonneted to as proud a fortune 
 As this that I have reach'd: for know, lago, 
 But that I love the gentle Desdemona, 
 I would not my unhoused free condition 
 Put into a circumscription and confine 
 For the sea's worth. But, look! what lights come 
 yond? 
 
 lago. Those are the raised father and his friends: 
 You were best go in. 
 
 32
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act I. Sc. ii, 
 
 Oth. Not I ; I must be found : 30 
 
 My parts, my title and my peiiect soul, 
 Shall manifest me rightly. Is it they? 
 
 lago. By Janus, I think no. 
 
 Enter Cassio, and certain Officers with torches. 
 
 Oth. The servants of the duke, and my lieutenant. 
 The goodness of the night upon you, friends! 
 What is the news? 
 
 Cos. The duke does greet you, general, 
 
 And he requires your haste-post-haste appearance, 
 Even on the instant. 
 
 Oth. What is the matter, think you? 
 
 Cas. Something from Cyprus, as I may divine : 
 
 It is a business of some heat: the galleys 40 
 
 Have sent a dozen sequent messengers 
 
 This very night at one another's heels; 
 
 And many of the consuls, raised and met, 
 
 Are at the duke's already: you have been hotly call'd 
 
 for; 
 
 When, being not at your lodging to be found, 
 The senate hath sent about three several quests 
 To search you out. 
 
 Oth. 'Tis well I am found by you. 
 
 I will but spend a word here in the house, 
 And go with you. [Exit 
 
 Cas. Ancient, what makes he here? 
 
 lago. Faith, he to-night hath boarded a land carack : 50 
 If it prove lawful prize, he 's made for ever. 
 
 Cas. I do not understand. 
 
 lago. He's married. 
 
 Cas. To who? 
 
 33
 
 Act I. Sc. ii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 Re-enter Othello. 
 
 I ago. Marry, to Come, captain, will you go? 
 Oth. Have with you. 
 
 Cas. Here comes another troop to seek for you. 
 logo. It is Brabantio: general, be advised; 
 He comes to bad intent. 
 
 Enter Brabantio, Roderigo, and Officers with torches 
 and weapons. 
 
 Oth. Hallo! stand there! 
 
 Rod. Signior, it is the Moor. 
 
 Bra. Down with him, thief! 
 
 [They draw on both sides. 
 
 logo. You, Roderigo! come, sir, I am for you. 
 
 Oth. Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust 
 
 them. 
 
 Good signior, you shall more command with years 
 Than with your weapons. 61 
 
 Bra. O thou foul thief, where hast thou stow'd my 
 
 daughter? 
 
 Damn'd as thou art, thou hast enchanted her; 
 For I '11 refer me to all things of sense, 
 If she in chains of magic were not bound, 
 Whether a maid so tender, fair and happy, 
 So opposite to marriage that she shunn'd 
 The wealthy curled darlings of our nation, 
 Would ever have, to incur a general mock, 
 Run from her guardage to the sooty bosom 70 
 
 Of such a thing as thou, to fear, not to delight. 
 Judge me the world, if 'tis not gross in sense 
 That thou hast practised on her with foul charms, 
 Abused her delicate youth with drugs or minerals 
 
 34
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act I. Sc. ii. 
 
 That weaken motion: I '11 have 't disputed on; 
 
 'Tis probable, and palpable to thinking. 
 
 I therefore apprehend and do attach thee 
 
 For an abuser of the world, a practiser 
 
 Of arts inhibited and out of warrant. 
 
 Lay hold upon him: if he do resist, 80 
 
 Subdue him at his peril. 
 Oth. Hold your hands, 
 
 Both you of my inclining and the rest: 
 
 Were it my cue to fight, I should have known it 
 
 Without a prompter. Where will you that I go 
 
 To answer this your charge? 
 Bra. To prison, till fit time 
 
 Of law and course of direct session 
 
 Call thee to answer. 
 Oth. What if I do obey? 
 
 How may the duke be therewith satisfied, 
 
 Whose messengers are here about my side, 
 
 Upon some present business of the state 90 
 
 To bring me to him? 
 First Off. 'Tis true, most worthy signior; 
 
 The duke 's in council, and your noble self, 
 
 I am sure, is sent for. 
 Bra. How! the duke in council! 
 
 In this time of the night! Bring him away: 
 
 Mine 's not an idle cause: the duke himself, 
 
 Or any of my brothers of the state, 
 
 Cannot but feel this wrong as 'twere their own; 
 
 For if such actions may have passage free, 
 
 Bond-slaves and pagans shall our statesmen be. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 35
 
 Act I. Sc. iii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO. 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 A council-chamber. 
 
 The Duke and Senators sitting at a table; Officers 
 attending. 
 
 Duke. There is no composition in these news 
 That gives them credit. 
 
 First Sen. Indeed they are disproportion'd; 
 
 My letters say a hundred and seven galleys. 
 
 Dnke. And mine, a hundred and forty. 
 
 Sec. Sen. And mine, two hundred: 
 
 But though they jump not on a just account, 
 As in these cases, where the aim reports, 
 'Tis oft with difference, yet do they all confirm 
 A Turkish fleet, and bearing up to Cyprus. 
 
 Duke. Nay, it is possible enough to judgement: 
 
 I do not so secure me in the error, 10 
 
 But the main article I do approve 
 In fearful sense. 
 
 Sailor. [Within} What, ho! what, ho! what, ho! 
 
 First Off. A messenger from the galleys. 
 
 Enter Sailor. 
 
 Duke. Now, what 's the business? 
 
 Sail. The Turkish preparation makes for Rhodes; 
 So was I bid report here to the state 
 By Signior Angelo. 
 
 Dnkc. How say you by this change? 
 
 First Sen. This cannot be, 
 
 By no assay of reason: 'tis a pageant 
 To keep us in false gaze. When we consider 
 The importancy of Cyprus to the Turk, 2O
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act I. Sc. iii. 
 
 And let ourselves again but understand 
 
 That as it more concerns the Turk than Rhodes, 
 
 So may he with more facile question bear it, 
 
 For that it stands not in such warlike brace, 
 
 But altogether lacks the abilities 
 
 That Rhodes is dress'd in : if we make thought of this, 
 
 We must not think the Turk is so unskilful 
 
 To leave that latest which concerns him first, 
 
 Neglecting an attempt of ease and gain, 
 
 To wake and wage a danger profitless. 30 
 
 Duke. Nay, in all confidence, he 's not for Rhodes. 
 
 First Off. Here is more news. 
 
 Enter a Messenger. 
 
 Mess. The Ottomites, reverend and gracious, 
 
 Steering with due course toward the isle of Rhodes, 
 Have there injointed them with an after fleet. 
 
 First Sen. Ay, so I thought. How many, as you guess? 
 
 Mess. Of thirty sail : and now they do re-stem 
 
 Their backward course, bearing with frank appearance 
 Their purposes toward Cyprus. Signior Montano 
 Your trusty and most valiant servitor, 40 
 
 With his free duty recommends you thus, 
 And prays you to believe him. 
 
 Duke. 'Tis certain then for Cyprus. 
 
 Marcus Luccicos, is not he in town? 
 
 First Sen. He 's now in Florence. 
 
 Duke. Write from us to him ; post-post-haste dispatch. 
 
 First Sen. Here comes Brabantio and the valiant Moor. 
 
 Enter Brabantio, Othello, lago, Roderigo, and Officers. 
 
 Duke. Valiant Othello, we must straight employ you 
 Against the general enemy Ottoman. 
 
 37
 
 Act I. Sc. iii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 [To Brabantio] I did not see you; welcome, gentle 
 signior ; 50 
 
 We lack'd your counsel and your help to-night. 
 
 Bra. So did I yours. Good your grace, pardon me; 
 Neither my place nor aught I heard of business 
 Hath raised me from my bed, nor doth the general care 
 Take hold on me; for my particular grief 
 Is of so flood-gate and o'erbearing nature 
 That it engluts and swallows other sorrows, 
 And it is still itself. 
 
 Duke. Why, what 's the matter? 
 
 Bra. My daughter! O, my daughter! 
 
 All. Dead? 
 
 Bra. Ay, to me; 
 
 She is abused, stol'n from me and corrupted 60 
 By spells and medicines bought of mountebanks; 
 For nature so preposterously to err, 
 Being not deficient, blind, or lame of sense, 
 Sans witchcraft could not. 
 
 Duke. Whoe'er he be that in this foul proceeding 
 Hath thus beguiled your daughter of herself 
 And you of her, the bloody book of law 
 You shall yourself read in the bitter letter 
 After your own sense, yea, though our proper son 
 Stood in your action. 
 
 Bra. Humbly I thank your grace. 70 
 
 Here is the man, this Moor; whom now, it seems, 
 Your special mandate for the state-affairs 
 Hath hither brought. 
 
 All. We are very sorry for 't. 
 
 Duke. [To Othello] What in your own part can you say 
 to this? 
 
 38
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act I. Sc. Hi. 
 
 Bra. Nothing 1 , but this is so. 
 
 Oth. Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors, 
 My very noble and approved 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 80 
 
 Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my speech, 
 And little blest with the soft phrase of peace; 
 For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith, 
 Till now some nine moons wasted, they have used 
 Their dearest action 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 90 
 
 Of my whole course of love ; what drugs, what charms, 
 What conjuration and what mighty magic 
 For such proceeding I am charged withal 
 I won his daughter. 
 
 Bra. A maiden never bold; 
 
 Of spirit so still and quiet that her motion 
 Blush' d at herself ; and she in spite of nature, 
 Of years, of country, credit, every thing 
 To fall in love with what she fear'd to look on! 
 It is a judgement maim'd and most imperfect, 
 That will confess perfection so could err 100 
 
 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 some dram conjured to this effect, 
 
 39
 
 Act I. Sc. iii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 He wrought upon her. 
 
 Duke. To vouch this, is no proof, 
 
 Without more certain and more overt test 
 Than these thin habits and poor likelihoods 
 Of modern seeming do prefer against him. 
 
 First Sen. But, Othello, speak: no 
 
 Did you by indirect and forced courses 
 Subdue and poison this young maid's affections? 
 Or came it by request, and such fair question 
 As soul to soul affordeth? 
 
 Oth. I do beseech you. 
 
 Send for the lady to the Sagittary, 
 And let her speak of me before her father: 
 If you do find me foul in her report, 
 The trust, the office I do hold of you, 
 Not only take away, but let your sentence 
 Even fall upon my life. 
 
 Duke. Fetch Desdemona hither. 120 
 
 Oth. Ancient, conduct them; you best know the place. 
 
 [Exeunt I ago and Attendants. 
 And till she come, as truly as to heaven 
 I do confess the vices of my blood, 
 So justly to your grave ears I '11 present 
 How I did thrive in this fair lady's love 
 And she in mine. 
 
 Duke. Say it, Othello. 
 
 Oth. Her father loved me, oft invited me, 
 Still questioned me the story of my life 
 From year to year, the battles, sieges, fortunes, 130 
 That I have pass'd. 
 
 I ran it through, even from my boyish days 
 To the very moment that he bade me tell it: 
 40
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act I. Sc. iii. 
 
 Wherein I spake 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 travels' history: 
 
 Wherein of antres vast and deserts idle, 140 
 
 Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads touch 
 
 heaven, 
 
 It was my hint to speak, such was the process; 
 And of the Cannibals that each other eat, 
 The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads 
 Do grow beneath their shoulders. This to hear 
 Would Desdemona seriously incline: 
 But still the house-affairs would draw her thence; 
 Which ever as she could with haste dispatch, 
 She 'Id come again, and with a greedy ear 
 Devour up my discourse: which I observing, 150 
 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 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; 160 
 
 'Twns 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,
 
 Act I. Sc. iii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 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. Upon this hint I spake: 
 
 She loved me for the dangers I had pass'd, 
 
 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. 170 
 
 Enter Desdemona, I ago, and Attendants. 
 
 Duke. I think this tale would win my daughter too. 
 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 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 most you owe obedience? 
 
 Des. My noble father, 180 
 
 I do perceive here a divided duty: 
 To you I am bound for life and education; 
 My life and education both do learn me 
 How to respect you; you are the lord of duty, 
 I am hitherto your daughter : but here 's my husband, 
 And so much duty as my mother show'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: 190 
 
 42
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act I. Sc. iiL 
 
 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 am 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 grise or step, may help these lovers 200 
 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. 
 The robb'd that smiles steals something from the thief, 
 He robs himself that spends a bootless grief. 
 
 Bra. So let the Turk of Cyprus us beguile; 210 
 
 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 he 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. 
 1 humbly beseech you, proceed to the affairs of state. 
 
 Duke. The Turk with a most mighty preparation 221 
 makes for Cyprus. Othello, the fortitude of the 
 
 43
 
 Act I. Sc. iii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 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 safer voice on you: you must 
 therefore be content to slubber the gloss of your 
 new fortunes with this more stubborn and bois- 
 terous expedition. 
 
 Oth. The tyrant custom, most grave senators, 230 
 
 Hath made the flinty and steel couch of war 
 My thrice-driven bed of down: I do agnize 
 A natural and prompt alacrity 
 I find in hardness ; and do undertake 
 These present wars 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. If you please, 240 
 
 Be 't at her father's. 
 
 Bra. I '11 not have it so. 
 
 Oth. Nor I. 
 
 Des. Nor I, I would not there reside, 
 
 To put my father in impatient thoughts 
 By being in his eye. Most gracious duke, 
 To my unfolding lend your prosperous ear, 
 And let me find a charter in your voice 
 To 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 250 
 May trumpet to the world : my heart 's subdued 
 
 44
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act I. Sc. iii. 
 
 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. 260 
 
 Oth. Let her have your voices. 
 
 Vouch with me, heaven, I therefore beg it not, 
 
 To please the palate of my appetite; 
 
 Nor to comply with heat the young affects 
 
 In me defunct 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-wing'd toys 
 
 Of feather'd Cupid seel with wanton dullness 270 
 
 My speculative and officed instruments, 
 
 That my disports corrupt and taint my business, 
 
 Let housewives make a skillet of my helm, 
 
 And all indign and base adversities 
 
 Make head against my estimation! 
 
 Duke. Be it as you shall privately determine, 
 
 Either for her stay or going: the affair cries haste, 
 And speed must answer 't; you must hence to-night. 
 
 DCS. To-night, my lord? 
 
 Duke. This night. 
 
 Oth. With all my heart. 
 
 Duke. At nine i' the morning here we '11 meet again. 280 
 Othello, leave some officer behind, 
 
 45
 
 Act I. Sc. iii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO. 
 
 And he shall our commission bring to you; 
 
 With such things else of quality and respect 
 
 As doth import you. 
 Oth. So please your grace, my ancient; 
 
 A man he is of honesty and trust: 
 
 To his conveyance I assign my wife, 
 
 With what else needful your good grace shall think 
 
 To be sent after me. 
 Duke. Let it be so. 
 
 Good night to every one. [To Brab.] And, noble 
 signior, 
 
 If virtue no delighted beauty lack, 290 
 
 Your son-in-law is far more fair than black. 
 First Sen. Adieu, brave Moor; use Desdemona well. 
 Bra. Look to her, Moor, if thou hast eyes to see 
 
 She has deceived her father, and may thee. 
 
 [Exeunt Duke, Senators, Officers, &-c. 
 Oth. My life upon her faith! Honest lago, 
 
 My Desdemona must I leave to thee: 
 
 I prithee, let thy wife attend on her; 
 
 And bring them after in the best advantage. 
 
 Come, Desdemona; I have but an hour 
 
 Of love, of worldly matters and direction, 300 
 
 To spend with thee: we must obey the time. 
 
 [Exeunt Othello and Desdemona. 
 Rod. lago! 
 
 lago. What say'st thou, noble heart? 
 Rod. What will I do, thinkest thou? 
 lago. Why, go to bed and sleep. 
 Rod. I will incontinently drown myself. 
 lago. If thou dost, I shall never love thee after. 
 
 Why, thou silly gentleman ! 
 46
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act I. Sc. iii. 
 
 Rod. It is silliness to live when to live is torment; 
 
 and then have we a prescription to die when 310 
 death is our physician. 
 
 I ago. O villanous! I have looked upon the world 
 for four times seven years; and since I could 
 distinguish betwixt a benefit and an injury, I 
 never found man that knew how to love himself. 
 Ere I would say I would drown myself for 
 the love of a guinea-hen, I would change my 
 humanity with a baboon. 
 
 Rod. What should I do? I confess it is my shame 
 
 to be so fond; but it is not in my virtue to 320 
 amend it. 
 
 I ago. Virtue! a fig! 'tis in ourselves that we are 
 thus or thus. Our bodies are gardens: to the 
 which our wills are gardeners : so that if we will 
 plant nettles or sow lettuce, set hyssop and weed 
 up thyme, supply it with one gender of herbs or 
 distract it with many, either to have it sterile 
 with idleness or manured with industry, why, 
 the power and corrigible authority of this lies 
 in our wills. If the balance of our lives had not 330 
 one scale of reason to poise another of sensual- 
 ity, the blood and baseness of our natures would 
 conduct us to most preposterous conclusions: 
 but we have reason to cool our raging motions, 
 our carnal stings, our unbitted lusts; whereof 
 I take this, that you call love, to be a sect or 
 scion. 
 
 Rod. It cannot be. 
 
 lago. It is merely a lust of the blood and a permission 
 
 of the will. Come, be a man: drown thyself! 340 
 
 47
 
 Act I. Sc. iii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 drown cats and blind puppies. I have professed 
 me thy friend, and I confess me knit to thy 
 deserving with cables of perdurable toughness : 
 I could never better stead thee than now. Put 
 money in thy purse; follow thou the wars; 
 defeat thy favour with an usurped beard ; I say, 
 put money in thy purse. It cannot be that 
 Desdemona should long continue her love to 
 the Moor put money in thy purse nor he his 
 to her: it was a violent commencement, and 350 
 thou shalt see an answerable sequestration; put 
 but money in thy purse. These Moors are 
 changeable in their wills: fill thy purse with 
 money. The food that to him now is as luscious 
 as locusts, shall be to him shortly as bitter as 
 coloquintida. She must change for youth: 
 when she is sated with his body, she will find the 
 error of her choice: she must have change, she 
 must: therefore put money in thy purse. If 
 thou wilt needs damn thyself, do it a more deli- 360 
 cate way than drowning. Make all the money 
 thou canst: if sanctimony and a frail vow be- 
 twixt an erring barbarian and a supersubtle 
 Venetian be not too hard for my wits and all the 
 tribe of hell, thou shalt enjoy her; therefore 
 make money. A pox of drowning thyself ! it is 
 clean out of the way: seek thou rather to be 
 hanged in compassing thy joy than to be 
 drowned and go without her. 
 
 Rod. Wilt thou be fast to my hopes, if I depend on 370 
 the issue? 
 
 logo. Thou art sure of me: go, make money: I have 
 
 48
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act I. Sc. iii. 
 
 told thee often, and I re-tell thee again and 
 again, I hate the Moor: my cause is hearted; 
 thine hath no less reason. Let us be conjunctive 
 in our revenge against him : if thou canst cuckold 
 him, thou dost thyself a pleasure, me a sport. 
 There are many events in the womb of time, 
 which will be delivered. Traverse ; go ; pro- 
 vide thy money. We will have more of this 380 
 to-morrow. Adieu. 
 
 Rod. Where shall we meet i' the morning? 
 
 logo. At my lodging. 
 
 Rod. I '11 be with thee betimes. 
 
 lago. Go to : farewell. Do you hear, Roderigo ? 
 
 Rod. What say you ? 
 
 lago. Xo more of drowning, do you hear? 
 
 Rod. I am changed : I '11 go sell all my land. [Exit. 
 
 lago. Thus do I ever make my fool my purse ; 
 
 For I mine own gain'd knowledge should profane, 
 
 If I would time expend with such a snipe 391 
 
 But for my sport and profit. I hate the Moor ; 
 
 And it is thought abroad that 'twixt my sheets 
 
 He has done my office : I know not if 't be true ; 
 
 But I for mere suspicion in that kind 
 
 Will do as if for surety. He holds me well ; 
 
 The better shall my purpose work on him. 
 
 Cassio 's a proper man : let me see now : 
 
 To get his place, and to plume up my will 
 
 In double knavery How, how ? Let 's see : 400 
 
 After some time, to abuse Othello's ear 
 
 That he is too familiar with his wife. 
 
 He hath a person and a smooth dispose 
 
 To be suspected ; framed to make women false. 
 
 49
 
 Act II. Sc. i. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 The Moor is of a free and open nature, 
 That thinks men honest that but seem to be so ; 
 And will as tenderly be led by the nose 
 As asses are. 
 
 I have 't. It is engender'd. Hell and night 
 Must bring this monstrous birth to the world's light. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 ACT SECOND. 
 Scene I. 
 
 A sea-port in Cyprus. An open place near the quay. 
 Enter Montana and two Gentlemen. 
 
 Man. What from the cape can you discern at sea ? 
 
 First Gent. Nothing at all : it is a high-wrought flood ; 
 I cannot, 'twixt the heaven and the main, 
 Descry a sail. 
 
 Mon. Methinks the wind hath spoke aloud at land ; 
 A fuller blast ne'er shook our battlements : 
 If it hath ruffian 'd so upon the sea, 
 What ribs of oak, when mountains melt on them. 
 Can hold the mortise? What shall we hear of this? 
 
 Sec. Gent. A segregation of the Turkish fleet : 10 
 
 For do but stand upon the foaming shore, 
 The chidden billow seems to pelt the clouds 
 The wind-shaked surge, with high and monstrous 
 
 mane, 
 
 Seems to cast water on the burning bear, 
 And quench the guards of the ever-fixed pole : 
 I never did like molestation view 
 On the enchafed flood. 
 
 50
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act II. Sc. i. 
 
 Mon. If that the Turkish fleet 
 
 Be not enshelter'd and embay'd, they are drown'd ; 
 It is impossible to bear it out. 
 
 Enter a third Gentleman. 
 
 Third Gent. News, lads! our wars are done. 20 
 
 The desperate tempest hath so bang'd the Turks, 
 That their designment halts : a noble ship of Venice 
 Hath seen a grievous wreck and sufferance 
 On most part of their fleet. 
 
 Mon. How! is this true? 
 
 Third Gent. The ship is here put in, 
 
 A Veronesa ; Michael Cassio, 
 Lieutenant to the warlike Moor Othello, 
 Is come on shore : the Moor himself at sea, 
 And is in full commission here for Cyprus. 
 
 Mon. I am glad on 't ; 'tis a worthy governor. 30 
 
 Third Gent. But this same Cassio, though he speak of 
 
 comfort 
 
 Touching the Turkish loss, yet he looks sadly 
 And prays the Moor be safe ; for they were parted 
 With foul and violent tempest. 
 
 Mon. Pray heavens he be ; 
 
 For I have served him, and the man commands 
 Like a full soldier. Let 's to the seaside, ho ! 
 As well to see the vessel that 's come in 
 As to throw out our eyes for brave Othello, 
 Even till we make the main and the aerial blue 
 An indistinct regard. 
 
 Third Gent. Come, let 's do so; 40 
 
 For every minute is expectancy 
 Of more arrivance. 
 
 Si
 
 Act II. Sc. i. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 Enter Cassio. 
 
 Cos. Thanks, you the valiant of this warlike isle, 
 That so approve the Moor ! O, let the heavens 
 Give him defence against the elements, 
 For I have lost him on a dangerous sea. 
 
 Mon. Is he well shipp'd? 
 
 Cas. His bark is stoutly timber'd, and his pilot 
 Of very expert and approved allowance ; 
 Therefore my hopes, not surfeited to death, 50 
 
 Stand in bold cure. 
 
 [A cry within : ' A sail, a sail, a sail ! ' 
 
 Enter a fourth Gentleman. 
 
 Cas. What noise? 
 
 Fourth Gent. The town is empty ; on the brow o' the sea 
 
 Stand ranks of people, and they cry ' A sail ! ' 
 Cas. My hopes do shape him for the governor. 
 
 [ Gun s heard. 
 Sec. Gent. They do discharge their shot of courtesy : 
 
 Our friends at least. 
 Cas. I pray you, sir, go forth, 
 
 And give us truth who 'tis that is arrived. 
 Sec. Gent. I shall. [Exit. 
 
 Mon. But, good lieutenant, is your general wived ? 60 
 Cas. Most fortunately : he hath achieved a maid 
 
 That paragons description and wild fame ; 
 
 One that excels the quirks of blazoning pens, 
 
 And in the essential vesture of creation 
 
 Does tire the ingener. 
 
 Re-enter second Gentleman. 
 
 How now ! who has put in ? 
 
 52
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act II. Sc. i. 
 
 Sec. Gent. Tis one lago, ancient to the general. 
 
 Cas. He has had most favourable and happy speed : 
 
 Tempests themselves, high seas, and howling winds, 
 The gutter'd rocks, and congregated sands, 
 Traitors ensteep'd to clog the guiltless keel, 70 
 
 As having sense of beauty, do omit 
 Their mortal natures, letting go safely by 
 The divine Desdemona. 
 
 Man. What is she? 
 
 Cas. She that I spake of, our great captain's captain, 
 Left in the conduct of the bold lago ; 
 Whose footing here anticipates our thoughts 
 A se'nnight's speed. Great Jove, Othello guard, 
 And swell his sail with thine own powerful breath, 
 That he may bless this bay with his tall ship, 
 Make love's quick pants in Desdemona's arms, 80 
 Give renew'd fire to our extincted spirits, 
 And bring all Cyprus comfort. 
 
 Enter Desdemona, Emilia, lago, Roderigo, and 
 Attendants. 
 
 O, behold. 
 
 The riches of the ship is come on shore ! 
 
 Ye men of Cyprus, let her have your knees. 
 
 Hail to thee. lady ! and the grace of heaven, 
 
 Before, behind thee, and on every hand, 
 
 Enwheel thee round ! 
 Des. I thank you, valiant Cassio. 
 
 What tidings can you tell me of my lord ? 
 Cas. He is not yet arrived : nor know I aught 
 
 But that he 's well and will be shortly here. 90 
 
 Des. O, but I fear How lost you company ? 
 Cas. The great contention of the sea and skies 
 
 53
 
 Act II. Sc. i. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 Parted our fellowship But, hark ! a sail. 
 
 [A cry within : ' A sail, a sail! ' Guns heard. 
 Sec. Gent. They give their greeting to the citadel : 
 
 This likewise is a friend. 
 Cos. See for the news. [E.rit Gentleman. 
 
 Good ancient, you are welcome. [To Emilia] Wel- 
 come, mistress : 
 
 Let it not gall your patience, good lago, 
 
 That I extend my manners ; 'tis my breeding 
 
 That gives me this bold show of courtesy. 100 
 
 [Kissing her. 
 logo. Sir, would she give you so much of her lips 
 
 As of her tongue she oft bestows on me, 
 
 You 'Id have enough. 
 
 Des. Alas, she has no speech. 
 
 logo. In faith, too much ; 
 
 I find it still when I have list to sleep : 
 
 Marry, before your ladyship, I grant, 
 
 She puts her tongue a little in her heart 
 
 And chides with thinking. 
 Emil. You have little cause to say so. 
 
 lago. Come on, come on ; you are pictures out of 
 doors, 1 1 o 
 
 Bells in your parlours, wild-cats in your kitchens, 
 
 Saints in your injuries, devils being offended, 
 
 Players in your housewifery, and housewives in your 
 
 beds. 
 
 Des. O, fie upon thee, slanderer! 
 lago. Nay, it is true, or else I am a Turk : 
 
 You rise to play, and go to bed to work. 
 Emil. You shall not write my praise. 
 lago. No, let me not. 
 
 54
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act II. Sc. i. 
 
 DCS. What wouldst thou write of me, if them shouldst 
 praise me? 
 
 logo. O gentle lady, do not put me to 't ; 
 
 For I am nothing if not critical. 120 
 
 Des. Come on, assay There 's one gone to the harbour? 
 
 logo. Ay, madam. 
 
 DCS. I am not merry; but I do beguile 
 The thing I am by seeming otherwise. 
 Come, how wouldst thou praise me? 
 
 logo. I am about it; but indeed my invention 
 
 Comes from my pate as birdlime does from frize: 
 It plucks out brains and all: but my Muse labours, 
 And thus she is deliver'd. 
 
 If she be fair and wise, fairness and wit, 130 
 
 The one's for use, the other useth it. 
 
 DCS. Well praised ! How if she be black and witty ? 
 
 logo. If she be black, and thereto have a wit, 
 
 She '11 find a white that shall her blackness fit. 
 
 DCS. Worse and worse. 
 
 Emil. How if fair and foolish? 
 
 logo. She never yet was foolish that was fair; 
 For even her folly help'd her to an heir. 
 
 DCS. These are old fond paradoxes to make fools 
 
 laugh i' the alehouse. What miserable praise 140 
 hast thou for her that 's foul and foolish? 
 
 lago. There 's none so foul, and foolish thereunto, 
 But does foul pranks which fair and wise ones do. 
 
 Des. O heavy ignorance ! thou praisest the worst best. 
 But what praise couldst thou bestow on a de- 
 serving woman indeed, one that in the author- 
 ity of her merit did justly put on the vouch of 
 very malice itself? 
 
 55
 
 Act II. Sc. i. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 logo. She that was ever fair and never proud, 
 
 Had tongue at will and yet was never loud, 150 
 
 Never lack'd gold and yet went never gay, 
 Fled from her wish and yet said ' Now I may ' ; 
 She that, being anger d, her revenge being nigh, 
 Bade her wrong stay and her displeasure fly; 
 She that in wisdom never was so frail 
 To change the cod's head for the salmon's tail; 
 She that could think and ne'er disclose her mind, 
 See suitors following and not look behind; 
 She was a wight, if ever such wight were, 
 
 DCS. To do what? 160 
 
 logo. To suckle fools and chronicle small beer. 
 
 DCS. O most lame and impotent conclusion! Do not 
 learn of him, Emilia, though he be thy husband. 
 How say you, Cassio? is he not a most profane 
 and liberal counsellor? 
 
 Cas. He speaks home, madam: you may relish him 
 more in the soldier than in the scholar. 
 
 lago. [Aside] He takes her by the palm: ay, well 
 said, whisper: with as little a web as this will I 
 ensnare as great a fly as Cassio. Ay, smile upon 170 
 her, do ; I will gyve thee in thine own courtship. 
 You say true; 'tis so, indeed: if such tricks as 
 these strip you out of your lieutenantry, it had 
 been better you had not kissed your three fin- 
 gers so oft, which now again you are most apt 
 to play the sir in. Very good; well kissed! an 
 excellent courtesy! 'tis so ; indeed. Yet again 
 your fingers to your lips? would they were clys- 
 ter-pipes for your sake! [Trumpet within.] 
 The Moor! I know his trumpet. 180 
 
 56
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act II. Sc. i. 
 
 Cas. 'Tis truly so. 
 
 Des. Let 's meet him and receive him. 
 
 Cas. Lo, where he comes ! 
 
 Enter Othello and Attendants. 
 
 Oth. O my fair warrior! 
 
 Des. My dear Othello ! 
 
 Oth. It gives me wonder great as my content 
 
 To see you here before me. 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 190 
 
 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 
 
 Succeeds in unknown fate. 
 Des. The heavens forbid 
 
 But that our loves and comforts should increase, 
 
 Even as our days do grow ! 
 Oth. Amen to that, sweet powers ! 
 
 I cannot speak enough of this content ; 
 
 It stops me here ; it is too much of joy : 199 
 
 And this, and this, the greatest discords be 
 
 [Kissing her. 
 
 That e'er our hearts shall make! 
 lago. [Aside] O, you are well tuned now ! 
 
 But I '11 set down the pegs that make this music, 
 
 As honest as I am. 
 Oth. Come, let us to the castle. 
 
 News, friends ; our wars are done, the Turks are 
 drown'd. 
 
 57
 
 Act II. Sc. i. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 How does my old acquaintance of this isle? 
 
 Honey, you shall be well desired in Cyprus ; 
 
 I have found great love amongst them. O my sweet, 
 
 I prattle out of fashion, and I dote 
 
 In mine own comforts. I prithee, good lago, 
 
 Go to the bay, and disembark my coffers : 210 
 
 Bring thou the master to the citadel ; 
 
 He is a good one, and his worthiness 
 
 Does challenge much respect. Come, Desdemona, 
 
 Once more well met at Cyprus. 
 
 [Exeunt all but logo and Roderigo. 
 
 lago. Do thou meet me presently at the harbour. 
 Come hither. If thou be'st valiant as, thev 
 say, base men being in love have then a nobility 
 in their natures more than is native to them 
 list me. The lieutenant to-night watches on 
 the court of guard. First, I must tell thee this : 220 
 Desdemona is directly in love with him. 
 
 Rod. With him ? why, 'tis not possible. 
 
 lago. Lay thy finger thus, and let thy soul be in- 
 structed. Mark me with what violence she first 
 loved the Moor, but for bragging, and telling her 
 fantastical lies : and will she love him still for 
 prating ? let not thy discreet heart think it. Her 
 eye must be fed ; and what delight shall she have 
 to look on the devil? When the blood is made 
 dull with the act of sport, there should be, again 230 
 to inflame it and to give satiety a fresh appetite, 
 loveliness in favour, sympathy in years, manners 
 and beauties ; all which the Moor is defective 
 in : now, for want of these required conveniences, 
 her delicate tenderness will find itself abused, 
 
 58
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act II. Sc. i. 
 
 begin to heave the gorge, disrelish and abhor 
 the Moor; very nature will instruct her in it and 
 compel her to some second choice. Now, sir, 
 this granted as it is a most pregnant and un- 
 forced position who stands so eminently in 240 
 the degree of this fortune as Cassio does? a 
 knave very voluble; no further conscionable 
 than in putting on the mere form of civil and 
 humane seeming, for the better compassing 
 of his salt and most hidden loose affection? why, 
 none; why, none: a slipper and subtle knave; 
 a finder out of occasions; that has an eye can 
 stamp and counterfeit advantages, though true 
 advantage never present itself: a devilish knave! 
 Besides, the knave is handsome, young, and hath 250 
 all those requisites in him that folly and green 
 minds look after: a pestilent complete knave; 
 and the woman hath found him already. 
 
 Rod. I cannot believe that in her; she 's full of most 
 blest condition. 
 
 logo. Blest fig's-end! the wine she drinks is made 
 of grapes; if she had been blest, she would 
 never have loved the Moor: blest pudding! 
 Didst thcu not see her paddle with the palm of 
 his hand? didst not mark that? 260 
 
 Rod. Yes, that I did; but that was but courtesy. 
 
 lago. Lechery, by this hand; an index and obscure 
 prologue to the history of lust and foul thoughts. 
 They met so near with their lips that their 
 breaths embraced together. Villanous thoughts. 
 Roderigo! when these mutualities so marshal 
 the way, hard at hand comes the master and 
 
 59
 
 Act II. Sc. i. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 main exercise, the incorporate conclusion : pish ! 
 But, sir, be you ruled by me: I have brought 
 you from Venice. Watch you to-night; for 270 
 the command, I'll lay 't upon you: Cassio 
 knows you not : I '11 not be far from you : do 
 you find some occasion to anger Cassio, either 
 by speaking too loud, or tainting his discipline, 
 or from what other course you please, which the 
 time shall more favourably minister. 
 
 Rod. Well. 
 
 lago. Sir, he is rash and very sudden in choler, and 
 haply may strike at you: provoke him, that he 
 may; for even out of that will I cause these of 280 
 Cyprus to mutiny; whose qualification shall 
 come into no true taste again but by the dis- 
 planting of Cassio. So shall you have a shorter 
 journey to your desires by the means I shall 
 then have to prefer them, and the impediment 
 most profitably removed, without the which 
 there were no expectation of our prosperity. 
 
 Rod. I will do this, if I can bring it to any oppor- 
 tunity. 
 
 lago. I warrant thee. Meet me by and by at the 290 
 citadel: I must fetch his necessaries ashore. 
 Farewell. 
 
 Rod. Adieu. [Exit. 
 
 I ago. That Cassio loves her, I do well believe it; 
 That she loves him, 'tis apt and of great credit: 
 The Moor, howbeit that I endure him not, 
 Is of a constant, loving, noble nature; 
 And I dare think he '11 prove to Desdemona 
 A most dear husband. Now, I do love her too, 
 60
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act II. Sc. ii. 
 
 Not out of absolute lust, though peradventure 300 
 
 I stand accountant for as great a sin, 
 
 But partly led to diet my revenge, 
 
 For that I do suspect the lusty Moor 
 
 Hath leap'd into my seat: the thought whereof 
 
 Doth like a poisonous mineral gnaw my inwards ; 
 
 And nothing can or shall content my soul 
 
 Till I am even'd with him, wife for wife; 
 
 Or failing so, yet that I put the Moor 
 
 At least into a jealousy so strong 
 
 That judgement cannot cure. Which thing to do, 
 
 If this poor trash of Venice, whom I trash 311 
 
 For his quick hunting, stand the putting on, 
 
 I '11 have our Michael Cassio on the hip, 
 
 Abuse him to the Moor in the rank garb; 
 
 For I fear Cassio with my night-cap too; 
 
 Make the Moor thank me, love me and reward me, 
 
 For making him egregiously an ass 
 
 And practising upon his peace and quiet 
 
 Even to madness. 'Tis here, but yet confused: 319 
 
 Knavery's plain face is never seen till used. [Exit, 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 A street. 
 
 Enter a Herald zvith a proclamation; people 
 following. 
 
 Her. It is Othello's pleasure, our noble and valiant 
 general, that upon certain tidings now arrived, 
 importing the mere perdition of the Turkish 
 fleet, every man put himself into triumph; some 
 to dance, some to make bonfires, each man to 
 what sport and revels his addiction leads him : for, 
 
 61
 
 Act II. Sc. iii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 besides these beneficial news, it is the celebration 
 of his nuptial. So much was his pleasure should 
 be proclaimed. All offices are open, and there 
 is full liberty of feasting from this present hour 10 
 of five till the bell have told eleven. Heaven 
 bless the isle of Cyprus and our noble general 
 Othello! [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 A hall in the castle. 
 Enter Othello, Desdemona, Cassio, and Attendants. 
 
 Oth. Good Michael, look you to the guard to-night: 
 Let 's teach ourselves that honourable stop, 
 Xot to outsport discretion. 
 
 Cos. lago hath direction what to do; 
 
 But notwithstanding with my personal eye 
 Will I look to 't. 
 
 Oth. lago is most honest. 
 
 Michael, good night: to-morrow with your earliest 
 Let me have speech with you. Come, my dear love, 
 The purchase made, the fruits are to ensue; 
 That profit 's yet to come 'tween me and you. 10 
 Good night. 
 
 [Exeunt Othello, Desdemona, and Attendants- 
 Enter lago. 
 
 Cos. Welcome, lago; we must to the watch. 
 
 lago. Not this hour, lieutenant ; 'tis not yet ten o' the 
 clock. Our general cast us thus early for the 
 love of his Desdemona ; who let us not therefore 
 62
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act II. Sc. iii. 
 
 blame: he hath not yet made wanton the night 
 with her, and she is sport for Jove. 
 
 Cas. She 's a most exquisite lady. 
 
 logo. And, I '11 warrant her, full of game. 
 
 Cas. Indeed she 's a most fresh and delicate creature. 20 
 
 logo. What an eye she has! methinks it sounds a 
 parley to provocation. 
 
 Cas. An inviting eye; and yet methinks right modest. 
 
 logo. And when she speaks, is it not an alarum to 
 love? 
 
 Cas. She is indeed perfection. 
 
 logo. Well, happiness to their sheets! Come, lieu- 
 tenant, I have a stoup of wine; and here with- 
 out are a brace of Cyprus gallants that would 
 fain have a measure to the health of black 30 
 Othello. 
 
 Cas. Not to-night, good lago: I have very poor and 
 unhappy brains for drinking: I could well wish 
 courtesy would invent some other custom of 
 entertainment. 
 
 lago. O, they are our friends; but one cup: I'll 
 drink for you. 
 
 Cas. I have drunk but one cup to-night, and that 
 was craftily qualified too, and behold what in- 
 novation it makes here: I am unfortunate in the 40 
 infirmity, and dare not task my weakness with 
 any more. 
 
 lago. What, man ! 'tis a night of revels : the gallants 
 desire it. 
 
 Cas. Where are they? 
 
 lago. Here at the door; I pray you, call them in. 
 
 Cas. I '11 do 't; but it dislikes me. [Exit. 
 
 63
 
 Act II. Sc. Hi. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 logo. If I can fasten but one cup upon him, 
 
 With that which he hath drunk to-night already, 
 He '11 be as full of quarrel and offence 50 
 
 As my young mistress' dog. Now my sick fool 
 
 Roderigo, 
 
 Whom love hath turn'd almost the wrong side out, 
 To Desdemona hath to-night caroused 
 Potations pottle-deep ; and he 's to watch : 
 Three lads of Cyprus, noble swelling spirits, 
 That hold their honours in a wary distance, 
 The very elements of this warlike isle, 
 Have I to-night fluster'd with flowing cups, 
 And they watch too. Now, 'mongst this flock of 
 
 drunkards, 
 
 Am I to put our Cassio in some action 60 
 
 That may offend the isle. But here they come: 
 If consequence do but approve my dream, 
 My boat sails freely, both with wind and stream. 
 
 Re-enter Cassio; with him Montana and Gentlemen; 
 Servants following with wine. 
 
 Cos. 'Fore God, they have given me a rouse already. 
 Mon. Good faith, a little one; not past a pint, as I 
 
 am a soldier. 
 logo. Some wine, ho! 
 
 [Sings] And let me the canakin clink, clink; 
 And let me the canakin clink: 
 
 A soldier 's a man; 70 
 
 A life 's but a span; 
 Why then let a soldier drink. 
 Some wine, boys! 
 
 Cas. 'Fore God, an excellent song. 
 
 64
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act II. Sc. iii. 
 
 lago. I learned it in England, where indeed they are 
 most potent in potting: your Dane, your Ger- 
 man, and your swag-bellied Hollander, Drink, 
 ho! are nothing to your English. 
 
 Cas. Is your Englishman so expert in his drinking? 
 
 logo. Why, he drinks you with facility your Dane 80 
 dead drunk; he sweats not to overthrow your 
 Almain; he gives your Hollander a vomit ere 
 the next pottle can be filled. 
 
 Cas. To the health of our general! 
 
 Mon. I am for it, lieutenant, and I '11 do you justice. 
 
 lago. O sweet England! 
 
 [SiHg-y] King Stephen was a worthy peer, 
 
 His breeches cost him but a crown; 
 He held them sixpence all too dear, 
 
 With that he call'd the tailor lown. 90 
 
 He was a wight of high renown, 
 And thou art but of low degree : 
 
 'Tis pride that pulls the country down; 
 Then take thine auld cloak about thee. 
 
 Some wine, ho! 
 Cas. Why, this is a more exquisite song than the 
 
 other. 
 
 lago. Will you hear 't again? 
 Cas. No; for I hold him to be unworthy of his place 
 
 that does those things. W T ell: God's above 100 
 
 all; and there be souls must be saved, and there 
 
 be souls must not be saved. 
 lago. It 's true, good lieutenant. 
 Cas. For mine own part no offence to the general, 
 
 nor any man of quality I hope to be saved. 
 
 63
 
 Act II. Sc. Hi. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 lago. And so do I too, lieutenant. 
 
 Cos. Ay, but, by your leave, not before me; the 
 lieutenant is to be saved before the ancient. 
 Let 's have no more of this; let 's to our affairs. 
 God forgive us our sins! Gentlemen, let 's look 1 10 
 to our business. Do not think, gentlemen, I am 
 drunk: this is my ancient: this is my right 
 hand, and this is my left. I am not drunk 
 now; I can stand well enough, and speak well 
 enough. 
 
 All. Excellent well. 
 
 Cas. Why, very well then; you must not think then 
 
 that I am drunk. [Exit. 
 
 Mon. To the platform, masters; come, let's set the 
 
 W 7 atch. 1 20 
 
 lago. You see this fellow that is gone before; 
 He is a soldier fit to stand by Caesar 
 And give direction: and do but see his vice; 
 'Tis to his virtue a just equinox. 
 The one as long as the other: 'tis pity of him. 
 I fear the trust Othello puts him in 
 On some odd time of his infirmity 
 Will shake this island. 
 
 Mon. But is he often thus? 
 
 lago. 'Tis evermore the prologue to his sleep: 
 
 He '11 watch the horoloee a double set, 130 
 
 If drink rock not his cradle. 
 
 Mon. It were well 
 
 The general were put in mind of it. 
 Perhaps he sees it not, or his good nature 
 Prizes the virtue that appears in Cassio 
 And looks not on his evils: is not this true? 
 66
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act II. Sc. iii. 
 
 Enter Roderigo. 
 
 logo. [Aside to him} How now, Roderigo! 
 
 I pray you, after the lieutenant ; go ! [Exit Roderigo. 
 Mon. And 'tis great pity that the noble Moor 
 
 Should hazard such a place as his own second 
 
 With one of an ingraft infirmity : 140 
 
 It were an honest action to say 
 
 So to the Moor. 
 logo. Xot I, for this fair island : 
 
 I do love Cassio well, and would do much 
 
 To cure him of this evil : But, hark ! what noise ? 
 [A cry within: ' Help ! help ! ' 
 
 Re-enter Cassio, driving in Roderigo. 
 
 Cos. 'Zounds ! you rogue ! you rascal ! 
 
 Mon. What 's the matter, lieutenant? 
 
 Cas. A knave teach me my duty ! But I '11 beat the 
 
 knave into a wicker bottle. 
 Rod. Beat me ! 
 
 Cas. Dost thou prate, rogue ? [Striking Roderigo. 150 
 Mon. Nay, good lieutenant ; I pray you, sir, hold 
 
 your hand. 
 
 Cas. Let me go, sir, or I '11 knock you o'er the mazzard. 
 Mon. Come, come, you 're drunk. 
 
 Cas. Drunk! [They fight. 
 
 Jago. [Aside to Roderigo} Away, I say; go out, and cry 
 
 a mutiny. [Exit Roderigo. 
 
 Nay, good lieutenant ! God's will, gentlemen ! 
 
 Help, ho ! Lieutenant, sir, Montano. sir : 
 
 Help, masters ! Here 's a goodly watch indeed ! 
 
 [A bell rings. 
 
 Who 's that that rings the bell ? Diablo, ho ! 
 
 67
 
 Act II. Sc. iii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO. 
 
 The town will rise : God's will, lieutenant, hold ; 160 
 You will be shamed for ever. 
 
 Re-enter Othello and Attendants. 
 
 Oth. What is the matter here ? 
 
 Mon. 'Zounds, I bleed still ; I am hurt to the death. 
 
 [Faints. 
 
 Oth. Hold, for your lives ! 
 
 logo. Hold, ho! Lieutenant, sir, Montano, gentle- 
 men, 
 
 Have you forgot all sense of place and duty? 
 Hold! the general speaks to you; hold,hold, for shame! 
 
 Oth. Why, how now, ho ! from whence ariseth this ? 
 Are we turn'd Turks, and to ourselves do that 
 Which heaven hath forbid the Ottomites ? 
 For Christian shame, put by this barbarous brawl : 
 He that stirs next to carve for his own rage 171 
 
 Holds his soul light ; he dies upon his motion. 
 Silence that dreadful bell : it frights the isle 
 From her propriety. What is the matter, masters ? 
 Honest lago, that look'st dead with grieving, 
 Speak, who began this ? on thy love, I charge thee. 
 
 lago. I do not know : friends all but now, even now, 
 In quarter, and in terms like bride and groom 
 Devesting them for bed ; and then, but now, 
 As if some planet had unwitted men, 180 
 
 Swords out, and tilting one at other's breast, 
 In opposition bloody. I cannot speak 
 Any beginning to this peevish odds ; 
 And would in action glorious I had lost 
 Those legs that brought me to a part of it ! 
 
 Oth. How comes it, Michael, you are thus forgot? 
 
 68
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act II. Sc. Hi. 
 
 Cos. I pray you, pardon me; I cannot speak. 
 
 Oth. Worthy Montano, you were wont be civil; 
 The gravity and stillness of your youth 
 The world hath noted, and your name is great 190 
 In mouths of wisest censure: what's the matter, 
 That you unlace your reputation thus, 
 And spend your rich opinion for the name 
 Of a night-brawler? give me answer to it. 
 
 Man. Worthy Othello, I am hurt to danger: 
 Your officer, lago, can inform you 
 While I spare speech, which something now offends 
 
 me 
 
 Of all that I do know: nor know I aught 
 By me that 's said or done amiss this night; 
 Unless self-charity be sometimes a vice, 200 
 
 And to defend ourselves it be a sin 
 When violence assails us. 
 
 Oth. Now, by heaven, 
 
 My blood begins my safer guides to rule, 
 And passion, having my best judgement collied, 
 Assays to lead the way: if I once stir, 
 Or do but lift this arm, the best of you 
 Shall sink in my rebuke. Give me to know 
 How this foul rout began, who set it on, 
 And he that is approved in this offence, 
 Though he had twinn'd with me, both at a birth, 210 
 Shall lose me. What, in a town of war, 
 Yet wild, the people's hearts brimful of fear, 
 To manage private and domestic quarrel, 
 In night, and on the court and guard of safety! 
 'Tis monstrous. lago, who began 't? 
 
 Man. If partially affined, or leagued in office, 
 Thou dost deliver more or less than truth, 
 
 69
 
 Act II. Sc. iii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 Thou art no soldier. 
 
 Ictgo. Touch me not so near: 
 
 I had rather have this tongue cut from my mouth 
 Than it should do offence to Michael Cassio; 220 
 Yet, I persuade myself, to speak the truth 
 Shall nothing wrong him. Thus it is, general. 
 Montano and myself being in speech, 
 There comes a fellow crying out for help, 
 And Cassio following him with determined sword, 
 To execute upon him. Sir, this gentleman 
 Steps in to Cassio and entreats his pause: 
 Myself the crying fellow did pursue, 
 Lest by his clamour as it so fell out 229 
 
 The town might fall in fright: he, swift of foot, 
 Outran my purpose; and I return'd the rather 
 For that I heard the clink and fall of swords, 
 And Cassio high in oath; which till to-night 
 I ne'er might say before. When I came back 
 For this was brief I found them close together, 
 At blow and thrust; even as again they were 
 When you yourself did part them. 
 More of this matter cannot I report: 
 But men are men; the best sometimes forget: 
 Though Cassio did some little wrong to him, 240 
 As men in rage strike those that wish them best, 
 Yet surely Cassio, I believe, received 
 From him that fled some strange indignity, 
 Which patience could not pass. 
 
 Oth. I know, lago, 
 
 Thy honesty and love doth mince this matter, 
 Making it light to Cassio. Cassio, I love thee; 
 But never more be officer of mine. 
 70
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act II. Sc. iii. 
 
 Re-enter Desdetnona, attended. 
 
 Look, if my gentle love be not raised up ! 
 I '11 make thee an example. 
 
 Des. What 's the matter ? 
 
 Oth. All 's well now, sweeting ; come away to bed, 250 
 Sir, for your hurts, myself will be your surgeon : 
 
 [To Montana, ^vho is led off. 
 Lead him off. 
 
 lago, look with care about the town, 
 And silence those whom this vile brawl distracted. 
 Come, Desdemona : 'tis the soldiers' life 
 To have their balmy slumbers waked with strife. 
 
 [E.vcnnt all but lago and Cassio. 
 
 lago. What, are you hurt, lieutenant ? 
 
 Cos. Ay, past all surgery. 
 
 lago. Marry, heaven forbid! 
 
 Cos. Reputation, reputation, reputation ! O, I have 260 
 lost my reputation ! I have lost the immortal 
 part of myself, and what remains is bestial. 
 My reputation, lago, my reputation ! 
 
 lago. As I am an honest man, I thought you had 
 received some bodily wound ; there is more 
 sense in that than in reputation. Reputation is 
 an idle and most false imposition ; oft got with- 
 out merit and lost without deserving: you have 
 lost no reputation at all, unless you repute your- 
 self such a loser. What, man ! there are ways 270 
 to recover the general again : you are but now 
 cast in his mood, a punishment more in policy 
 than in malice ; even so as one would beat his 
 offenceless dog to affright an imperious lion : 
 sue to him again, and he 's yours. 
 
 71
 
 Act II. Sc. iii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO. 
 
 Cos. I will rather sue to be despised than to deceive 
 so good a commander with so slight, so drunken, 
 and so indiscreet an officer. Drunk? and speak 
 parrot? and squabble? swagger? swear? and 
 discourse fustian with one's own shadow? O 280 
 thou invisible spirit of wine, if thou hast no 
 name to be known by, let us call thee devil ! 
 
 logo. What was he that you followed with your 
 sword ? What had he done to you ? 
 
 Cos. I know not. 
 
 logo. Is 't possible ? 
 
 Cos. I remember a mass of things, but nothing dis- 
 tinctly ; a quarrel, but nothing wherefore. O 
 God, that men should put an enemy in their 
 mouths to steal away their brains ! that we 290 
 should, with joy, pleasance, revel and applause, 
 transform ourselves into beasts! 
 
 lago. Why, but you are now well enough : how 
 came you thus recovered? 
 
 Cas. It hath pleased the devil drunkenness to give 
 place to the devil wrath : one unperfectness 
 shows me another, to make me frankly despise 
 myself. 
 
 lago. Come, you are too severe a moraler : as the 
 
 time, the place, and the condition of this country 300 
 stands, I could heartily wish this had not be- 
 fallen ; but since it is as it is, mend it for your 
 own good. 
 
 Cas. I will ask him for my place again ; he shall 
 
 tell me I am a drunkard ! Had I as many 
 
 mouths as Hydra, such an answer would stop 
 
 them all. To be now a sensible man, by and 
 
 72
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act II. Sc. iii. 
 
 by a fool, and presently a beast! O strange! 
 Every inordinate cup is unblest, and the in- 
 gredient is a devil. 310 
 
 lago. Come, come, good wine is a good familiar 
 creature, if it be well used: exclaim no more 
 against it. And, good lieutenant, I think you 
 think I love you. 
 
 Cas. I have well approved it, sir. I drunk! 
 
 lago. You or any man living may be drunk at some 
 time, man. I '11 tell you what you shall do. 
 Our general's wife is now the general. I may 
 say so in this respect, for that he hath devoted 
 and given up himself to the contemplation, mark 320 
 and denotement of her parts and graces: con- 
 fess yourself freely to her; importune her help 
 to put you in your place again : she is of so free, 
 so kind, so apt, so blessed a disposition, she 
 holds it a vice in her goodness not to do more 
 than she is requested : this broken joint between 
 you and her husband entreat her to splinter; 
 and, my fortunes against any lay worth naming, 
 this crack of your love shall grow stronger than 
 it was before. 330 
 
 Cas. You advise me well. 
 
 lago. I protest, in the sincerity of love and honest 
 kindness. 
 
 Cas. I think it freely; and betimes in the morning I 
 will beseech the virtuous Desdemona to under- 
 take for me: I am desperate of my fortunes if 
 they check me here. 
 
 lago. You are in the right. Good night, lieutenant; 
 I must to the watch. 
 
 73
 
 Act II. Sc. iii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO. 
 
 Cos. Goo'd night, honest lago. [Exit. 340 
 
 logo. And what 's he then that says I play the villain? 
 When this advice is free I give and honest, 
 Probal to thinking, and indeed the course 
 To win the Moor again? For 'tis most easy 
 The inclining Desdemona to subdue 
 In any honest suit. She 's framed as fruitful 
 As the free elements. And then for her 
 To win the Moor, were 't to renounce his baptism, 
 All seals and symbols of redeemed sin, 
 His soul is so enfetter'd to her love, 350 
 
 That she may make, unmake, do what she list, 
 Even as her appetite shall play the god 
 With his weak function. How am I then a villain 
 To counsel Cassio to this parallel course, 
 Directly to his good? Divinity of hell! 
 When devils will the blackest sins put on, 
 They do suggest at first with heavenly shows, 
 As I do now: for whiles this honest fool 
 Plies Desdemona to repair his fortunes, 
 And she for him pleads strongly to the Moor, 360 
 I '11 pour this pestilence into his ear, 
 That she repeals him for her body's lust; 
 And by how much she strives to do him good, 
 She shall undo her credit with the Moor. 
 So will I turn her virtue into pitch ; 
 And out of her own goodness make the net 
 That shall enmesh them all. 
 
 Enter Roderigo. 
 
 How now, Roderigo! 
 Rod. I do follow here in the chase, not like a hound 
 
 74
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act II. Sc. iii. 
 
 that hunts, but one that fills up the cry. My 
 money is almost spent; I have been to-night 370 
 exceedingly well cudgelled; and I think the 
 issue will be, I shall have so much experience 
 for my pains; and so, with no money at all and 
 a little more wit, return again to Venice. 
 logo. How poor are they that have not patience! 
 What wound did ever heal but by degrees? 
 Thou know'st we work by wit and not by witch- 
 craft, 
 
 And wit depends on dilatory time. 
 Does 't not go well? Cassio hath beaten thee, 380 
 And thou by that small hurt hast cashier'd Cassio: 
 Though other things grow fair against the sun, 
 Yet fruits that blossom first will first be ripe: 
 Content thyself awhile. By the mass, 'tis morning; 
 Pleasure and action make the hours seem short. 
 Retire thee ; go where thou art billeted : 
 Away, I say; thou shalt know more hereafter: 
 Nay, get thee gone. [E.rit Rod.] Two things are 
 
 to be done: 
 
 My wife must move for Cassio to her mistress; 
 I '11 set her on ; 390 
 
 Myself the while to draw the Moor apart, 
 And bring him jump when he may Cr.ssio find 
 Soliciting his wife: ay, that 's the way; 
 Dull not device by coldness and delay. [Exit. 
 
 75
 
 Act III. Sc. i. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 ACT THIRD. 
 Scene I. 
 
 Before the castle. 
 Enter Cassio and some Musicians. 
 
 Cas. Masters, play here ; I will content your pains ; 
 
 Something that's brief; and bid 'Good morrow, 
 general.' [Music. 
 
 Enter Clonm. 
 
 Clo. Why, masters, have your instruments been in 
 Naples, that they speak i' the nose thus? 
 
 First Mus. How, sir, how? 
 
 Clo. Are these, I pray you, wind-instruments? 
 
 First Mus. Ay, marry, are they, sir. 
 
 Clo. O, thereby hangs a tail. 
 
 First Mus. Whereby hangs a tale, sir? 
 
 Clo. Marry, sir, by many a wind-instrument that I 10 
 know. But, masters, here 's money for you: 
 and the general so likes your music, that he de- 
 sires you, for love's sake, to make no more noise 
 . with it. 
 
 First Mus. Well, sir, we will not. 
 
 Clo. If you have any music that may not be heard, 
 to 't again: but, as they say, to hear music the 
 general does not greatly care. 
 
 First Mus. We have none such, sir. 
 
 Clo. Then put up your pipes in your bag, for I '11 20 
 away: go; vanish into air; away! 
 
 [Exeunt Musicians. 
 
 Cas. Dost thou hear, my honest friend ? 
 
 76
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act III. Sc. i. 
 
 Clo. No, I hear not your honest friend ; I hear you. 
 
 Cas. Prithee, keep up thy quillets. There 's a poor 
 piece of gold for thee: if the gentlewoman that 
 attends the general's wife be stirring, tell her 
 there 's one Cassio entreats her a little favour of 
 speech: wilt thou do this? 
 
 Clo. She is stirring, sir : if she will stir hither, I shall 
 
 seem to notify unto her. 30 
 
 Cas. Do, good my friend. [Exit Clown. 
 
 Enter lago. 
 
 In happy time, lago. 
 
 logo. You have not been a-bed, then? 
 
 Cas. Why, no; the day had broke 
 
 Before we parted. I have made bold, lago, 
 To send in to your wife : my suit to her 
 Is, that she will to virtuous Desdemona 
 Procure me some access. 
 
 lago. I '11 send her to you presently ; 
 
 And I '11 devise a mean to draw the Moor 
 Out of the way, that your converse and business 
 May be more free. 40 
 
 Cas. I humbly thank you for 't. [Exit lago.} I never knew 
 A Florentine more kind and honest. 
 
 Enter Emilia. 
 
 Emil. Good morrow, good lieutenant: I am sorry 
 For your displeasure; but all will sure be well. 
 The general and his wife are talking of it, 
 And she speaks for you stoutly: the Moor replies, 
 That he you hurt is of great fame in Cyprus 
 And great affinity, and that in wholesome wisdom 
 
 77
 
 Act III. Sc. ii.-iii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 He might not but refuse you; but he protests he 
 loves you, 
 
 And needs nc other suitor but his likings 50 
 
 To take the safest occasion by the front 
 
 To bring you in again. 
 Cos. Yet, I beseech you, 
 
 If you think fit, or that it may be done, 
 
 Give me advantage of some brief discourse 
 
 With Desdemona alone. 
 Eniil. Pray you, come in: 
 
 I will bestow you where you shall have time 
 
 To speak your bosom freely. 
 
 Cas. I am much bound to you. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 A room in the castle. 
 Enter Othello, logo, and Gentlemen. 
 
 Oth. These letters give, lago, to the pilot; 
 And by him do my duties to the senate: 
 That done, I will be walking on the works; 
 Repair there to me. 
 
 lago. Well, my good lord, I '11 do 't. 
 
 Oth. This fortification, gentlemen, shall we see 't? 
 
 Gent. We '11 wait upon your lordship. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 The garden of the castle. 
 Enter Desdemona, Cassio, and Emilia. 
 
 DCS. Be thou assured, good Cassio, I will do 
 All my abilities in thy behalf. 
 
 78
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act III. Sc. iii. 
 
 Emit. Good madam, do: I warrant it grieves my husband 
 As if the case were his. 
 
 DCS. O, that 's an honest fellow. Do not doubt, Cassio, 
 But I will have my lord and you again 
 As friendly as you were. 
 
 Cos. Bounteous madam, 
 
 Whatever shall become of Michael Cassio, 
 He 's never any thing but your true servant. 
 
 Des. I know 't : I thank you. You do love my lord : 10 
 You have knownjiim long; and be you well assured 
 He shall in strangeness stand no farther off 
 Than in a politic distance. 
 
 Cas. Ay, but, lady, 
 
 That policy may either last so long, 
 Or feed upon such nice and waterish diet, 
 Or breed itself so out of circumstance, 
 That, I being absent and my place supplied, 
 My general will forget my love and service. 
 
 DCS. Do not doubt that; before Emilia here 
 
 I give thee warrant of thy place: assure thee, 20 
 
 If I do vow a friendship, I '11 perform it 
 
 To the last article: my lord shall never rest; 
 
 I '11 watch him tame and talk him out of patience; 
 
 His bed shall seem a school, his board a shrift; 
 
 I '11 intermingle every thing he does 
 
 With Cassio's suit: therefore be merry, Cassio; 
 
 For thy solicitor shall rather die 
 
 Than give thy cause away. 
 
 Enter Othello and I ago, at a distance. 
 
 Emil. Madam, here comes my lord. 
 
 Cas. Madam, I '11 take my leave. 30 
 
 79
 
 Act III. Sc. iii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO. 
 
 Des. Nay, stay and hear me speak. 
 
 Cas. Madam, not now : I am very ill at ease, 
 
 Unfit for mine own purposes. 
 
 DCS. Well, do your discretion. [Exit Cassio. 
 
 lago. Ha! I like not that. 
 Oth. What dost thou say? 
 
 lago. Nothing, my lord : or if I know not what. 
 Oth. Was not that Cassio parted from my wife? 
 logo. Cassio, my lord ! No, sure, I cannot think it, 
 
 That he would steal away so g-uilty-like, 
 
 Seeing you coming. 
 
 Oth. I do believe 'twas he. 
 
 DCS. How now, my lord! 
 
 I have been talking with a suitor here. 
 
 A man that languishes in your displeasure. 
 Oth. Who is 't you mean? 
 Des. Why, your lieutenant, Cassio. Good my lord, 
 
 If I have any grace or power to move you, 
 
 His present reconciliation take; 
 
 For if he be not one that truly loves you, 
 
 That errs in ignorance and not in cunning, 
 
 I have no judgement in an honest face: 50 
 
 I prithee, call him back. 
 
 Oth. Went he hence now? 
 
 DCS. Ay, sooth; so humbled, 
 
 That he hath left part of his grief with me, 
 
 To suffer with him. Good love, call him back. 
 Oth. Not now, sweet Desdemona; some other time. 
 Des. But shall 't be shortly? 
 
 Oth. The sooner, sweet, for you. 
 
 Des. Shall 't be to-night at supper? 
 Oth. No, not to-night. 
 
 80
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act III. Sc. Hi. 
 
 Des. To-morrow dinner then? 
 
 Oth. I shall not dine at home; 
 
 I meet the captains at the citadel. 
 
 DCS. Why then to-morrow night; or Tuesday morn; 60 
 On Tuesday noon, or night; on Wednesday morn: 
 I prithee, name the time; but let it not 
 Exceed three days; in faith, he 's penitent; 
 And yet his trespass, in our common reason 
 Save that, they say, the wars must make examples 
 Out of their best is not almost a fault 
 To incur a private check. When shall he come? 
 Tell me, Othello : I wonder in my soul, 
 What you would ask me, that I should deny, 69 
 Or stand so mammering on. What ! Michael Cassio, 
 That came a-wooing with you, and so many a time 
 When I have spoke of you dispraisingly 
 Hath ta'en your part; to have so much to do 
 To bring him in! Trust me, I could do much 
 
 Oth. Prithee, no more: let him come when he will; 
 I will deny thee nothing. 
 
 Des. Why, this is not a boon ; 
 
 'Tis as I should entreat you wear your gloves, 
 Or feed on nourishing dishes, or keep you warm, 
 Or sue to you to do a peculiar profit 
 To your own person : nay, when I have a suit 80 
 Wherein I mean to touch your love indeed, 
 It shall be full of poise and difficult weight, 
 And fearful to be granted. 
 
 Oth. I will deny thee nothing: 
 
 Whereon, I do beseech thee, grant me this, 
 To leave me but a little to myself. 
 
 Des. Shall I deny you? no: farewell, my lord. 
 
 81
 
 Act III. Sc. Hi. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 Oth. Farewell, my Desdemona : I '11 come to thee straight. 
 Des. Emilia, come. Be as your fancies teach you; 
 
 Whate'er you be, I am obedient. 
 
 [Exeunt Desdemona and Emilia. 
 Oth. Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul, 90 
 
 But I do love thee! and when I love thee not, 
 
 Chaos is come again. 
 lago. My noble lord, 
 
 Oth. What dost thou say, lago? 
 
 lago. Did Michael Cassio, when you woo'd my lady, 
 
 Know of your love? 
 
 Oth. He did, from first to last: why dost thou ask? 
 lago. But for a satisfaction of my thought; 
 
 No further harm. 
 
 Oth. Why of thy thought, lago? 
 
 lago. I did not think he had been acquainted with her. 
 Oth. O, yes, and went between ns very oft. 100 
 
 lago. Indeed! 
 Oth. Indeed! ay, indeed: discern'st thou aught in that? 
 
 Is he not honest? 
 lago. Honest, my lord! 
 Oth. Honest! ay, honest. 
 lago. My lord, for aught I know. 
 Oth. What dost thou think? 
 lago. Think, my lord! 
 Oth'. 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 even now, thou likedst not that, 
 
 When Cassio left my wife: what didst not like? no 
 
 And when I told thee he was of my counsel 
 
 82
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act III. Sc. iii. 
 
 In my whole course of wooing, thou criedst ' Indeed ! ' 
 And didst contract and purse thy brow together, 
 As if thou then hadst shut up in thy brain 
 Some horrible conceit: if thou dost love me, 
 Show me thy thought. 
 
 logo. My lord, you know I love yor 
 
 Oth. I think thou dost; 
 
 And for I know thou 'rt full of love and honesty 
 And weigh'st thy words before thou givest them 
 
 breath, 
 
 Therefore these stops of thine fright me the more: 
 For such things in a false disloyal knave 121 
 
 Are tricks of custom; but in a man that 's just 
 They 're close delations, working from the heart, 
 That passion cannot rule. 
 
 logo. For Michael Cassio, 
 
 I dare be sworn I think that he is honest. 
 
 Oth. I think so too. 
 
 logo. Men should be what they seem; 
 
 Or those that be not, would they might seem none! 
 
 Oth. Certain, men should be what they seem. 
 
 logo. Why then I think Cassio 's an honest man. 
 
 Oth. Nay, yet there 's more in this: 130 
 
 I prithee, speak to me as to thy thinkings, 
 As thou dost ruminate, and give thy worst of thoughts 
 The worst of words. 
 
 logo. Good my lord, pardon me: 
 
 Though I am bound to every act of duty, 
 I am not bound to that all slaves are free to. 
 Utter my thoughts ? Why, say they are vile and false ; 
 And where 's that palace whereinto foul things 
 Sometimes intrude not? who has a breast so pure 
 
 83
 
 Act III. Sc. iii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 But some uncleanly apprehensions 
 
 Keep leets and law-days, and in session sit 140 
 
 With meditations lawful? 
 
 Oth. Thou dost conspire against thy friend, lago, 
 
 If thou but think'st him wrong' d and makest his ear 
 A stranger to thy thoughts. 
 
 logo. I do beeseech you 
 
 Though I perchance am vicious in my guess, 
 As, I confess, it is my nature's plague 
 To spy into abuses, and oft my jealousy 
 Shapes faults that are not that your wisdom yet, 
 From one that so imperfectly conceits, 
 Would take no notice, nor build yourself a trouble 
 Out of his scattering and unsure observance. 151 
 It were not for your quiet nor your good, 
 Nor for my manhood, honesty, or wisdom, 
 To let you know my thoughts. 
 
 Oth. What dost thou mean? 
 
 lago. 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 160 
 
 And makes me poor indeed. 
 
 Oth. By heaven, I '11 know thy thoughts. 
 
 lago. You cannot, if my heart were in your hand; 
 Nor shall not, whilst 'tis in my custody. 
 
 Oth. Ha! 
 
 lago. O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; 
 
 It is the green-eyed monster, which doth mock 
 
 84
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act III. Sc. iii. 
 
 The meat it feeds on : that cuckold lives in bliss 
 Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger; 
 But, O, what damned minutes tells he o'er 
 Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves ! 
 
 Oth. O misery! 171 
 
 logo. Poor and content is rich, and rich enough; 
 But riches fineless is as poor as winter 
 To him that ever fears he shall be poor: 
 Good heaven, the souls of all my tribe defend 
 From jealousy! 
 
 Oth. Why, why is this! 
 
 Think'st thou I 'Id make a life of jealousy, 
 
 To follow still the changes of the moon 
 
 With fresh suspicions? No; to be once in doubt 
 
 Is once to be resolved: exchange me for a goat, 180 
 
 When I shall turn the business of my soul 
 
 To such exsufflicate and blown surmises, 
 
 Matching thy inference. 'Tis not to make me jealous 
 
 To say my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company, 
 
 Is free of speech, sings, plays and dances well ; 
 
 Where virtue is, these are more virtuous: 
 
 Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw 
 
 The smallest fear or doubt of her revolt ; 
 
 For she had eyes, and chose me. No, lago; 
 
 I '11 see before I doubt; when I doubt, prove; 193 
 
 And on the proof, there is no more but this, 
 
 Away at once with love or jealousy! 
 
 lago. I am glad of it ; for now I shall have reason 
 To show the love and duty that I bear you 
 With franker spirit: therefore, as I am bound, 
 Receive it from me. I speak not yet of proof. 
 Look to your wife: observe her well with Cassio; 
 
 85
 
 Act III. Sc. iii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 Wear your eye thus, not jealous nor secure: 
 I would not have your free and noble nature 
 Out of self-bounty be abused; look to't: 200 
 
 I know our country disposition well; 
 In Venice they do let heaven see the pranks 
 They dare not show their husbands; their best con- 
 science 
 Is not to leave 't undone, but keep 't unknown. 
 
 Oth. Dost thou say so? 
 
 logo. She did deceive her father, marrying you; 
 
 And when she seem'd to shake and fear your looks, 
 She loved them most. 
 
 Oth. And so she did. 
 
 lago. Why, go to then; 
 
 She that so young could give out such a seeming, 
 To seel her father's eyes up close as oak 210 
 
 He thought 'twas witchcraft but I am much to 
 
 blame; 
 
 I humbly do beseech you of your pardon 
 For too much loving you. 
 
 Oth. I am bound to thee for ever. 
 
 lago. I see this hath a little dash'd your spirits. 
 
 Oth. Not a jot, not a jot. 
 
 lago. F faith, I fear it has. 
 
 I hope you will consider what is spoke 
 Comes from my love; but I do see you're moved: 
 I am to pray you not to strain my speech 
 To grosser issues nor to larger reach 
 Than to suspicion. 220 
 
 Oth. I will not. 
 
 lago. Should you do so, my lord, 
 
 My speech should fall into such vile success 
 As my thoughts aim not at. Cassio 's my worthy 
 friend 
 
 86
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act III. Sc. in. 
 
 My lord, I see you 're moved. 
 
 Oth. No, not much moved: 
 
 I do not think but Desdemona 's honest. 
 
 logo. Long live she so! and long live you to think so! 
 
 Oth. And yet, how nature erring from itself 
 
 logo. Ay, there 's the point : as to be bold with you 
 Not to effect many proposed matches 
 Of her own clime, complexion and degree, 230 
 
 Whereto we see in all things nature tends 
 Foh! one may smell in such a will most rank, 
 Foul disproportion, thoughts unnatural. 
 But pardon me: I do not in position 
 Distinctly speak of her; though I may fear 
 Her will, recoiling to her better judgement. 
 May fall to match you with her country forms, 
 And happily repent. 
 
 Oth. Farewell, farewell: 
 
 If more thou dost perceive, let me know more; 
 
 Set on thy wife to observe: leave me, lago. 240 
 
 I ago. [Going] My lord, I take my leave. 
 
 Oth. Why did I marry? This honest creature doubtless 
 Sees and knows more, much more, than he unfolds. 
 
 lago. [Returning] My lord, I would I might entreat your 
 
 honour 
 
 To scan this thing no further; leave it to time: 
 Though it be fit that Cassio have his place, 
 For sure he fills it up with great ability, 
 Yet, if you please to hold him off awhile, 
 You shall by that perceive him and his means: 
 Note if your lady strain his entertainment 250 
 
 With any strong or vehement importunity; 
 Much will be seen in that. In the mean time, 
 
 87
 
 Act III. Sc. iii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 Let me be thought too busy in my fears 
 As worthy cause I have to fear I am 
 And hold her free, I do beseech your honour. 
 
 Oth. Fear not my government. 
 
 logo. I once more take my leave. [Exit. 
 
 Oth. This fellow 's of exceeding honesty, 
 
 And knows all qualities, with a learned spirit, 
 Of human dealings. If I do prove her haggard, 260 
 Though that her jesses were my dear heart-strings, 
 I 'Id whistle her off and let her down the wind 
 To prey at fortune. Haply, for I am black 
 And have not those soft parts of conversation 
 That chamberers have, or for I am declined 
 Into the vale of years, yet that 's not much 
 She 's gone ; I am abused, and my relief 
 Must be to loathe 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, 271 
 
 Than keep a corner in the thing I love 
 For others' uses. Yet, 'tis the plague of great ones; 
 Prerogatived are they less than the base; 
 'Tis destiny unshunnable, like death: 
 Even then this forked plague is fated to us 
 When we do quicken. Desdemona comes: 
 
 Re-enter Desdemona and Emilia. 
 
 If she be false, O, then heaven mocks itself! 
 I '11 not believe 't. 
 Des. How now, my dear Othello! 
 
 Your dinner, and the generous islanders 280 
 
 By you invited, do attend your presence. 
 88
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act III. Sc. Hi. 
 
 Oth. I am to blame. 
 
 Des. Why do you speak so faintly? 
 
 Are you not well? 
 
 Oth. I have a pain upon my forehead here. 
 
 DCS. Faith, that 's with watching; 'twill away again: 
 Let me but bind it hard, within this hour 
 It will be well. 
 
 Oth. Your napkin is too little; 
 
 [He puts the handkerchief from him; and she drops it. 
 Let it alone. Come, I '11 go in with you. 
 
 DCS. I am very sorry that you are not well. 
 
 [Exeunt Othello and Desdemona. 
 
 Emil. I am glad I have found this napkin: 290 
 
 This was her first remembrance from the Moor: 
 My wayward husband hath a hundred times 
 Woo'd me to steal it; but she so loves the token, 
 For he conjured her she should ever keep it, 
 That she reserves it evermore about her 
 To kiss and talk to. I '11 have the work ta'en out, 
 And give 't lago : what he will do with it 
 Heaven knows, not I; 
 I nothing but to please his fantasy. 
 
 Re-enter lago. 
 
 logo. How now! what do you here alone? 300 
 
 Emil. Do not you chide; I have a thing for you. 
 
 lago. A thing for me? it is a common thing 
 
 Emil. Ha! 
 
 lago. To have a foolish wife. 
 
 Emil. O, is that all? What will you give me now 
 
 For that same handkerchief? 
 
 lago. What handkerchief? 
 
 89
 
 Act III. Sc. Hi. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 Emil. What handkerchief! 
 
 Why, that the Moor first gave to Desdemona; 
 That which so often you did bid me steal. 
 
 logo. Hast stol'n it from her? 310 
 
 Emil. No, faith; she let it drop by negligence, 
 
 And, to the advantage, I being here took 't up. 
 Look, here it is. 
 
 I ago. A good wench ; give it me. 
 
 Emil. What will you do with 't, that you have been so 
 
 earnest 
 To have me filch it? 
 
 I ago. [Snatching it] Why, what 's that to you? 
 
 Emil. If 't be not for some purpose of import, 
 Give 't me again : poor lady, she '11 run mad 
 When she shall lack it. 
 
 logo. Be not acknown on 't; I have use for it. 
 
 Go, leave me. [Exit Emilia. 320 
 
 I will in Cassio's lodging lose this napkin, 
 
 And let him find it. Trifles light as air 
 
 Are to the jealous confirmations strong 
 
 As proofs of holy writ: this may do something. 
 
 The Moor already changes with my poison: 
 
 Dangerous conceits are in their natures poisons, 
 
 Which at the first are scarce found to distaste, 
 
 But with a little act upon the blood 
 
 Burn like the mines of sulphur. I did say so: 
 
 Look, where he comes! 
 
 Re-enter Othello. 
 
 Not poppy, nor mandragora, 330 
 Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world, 
 Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep 
 90
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act III. Sc. Hi. 
 
 Which thou owedst yesterday. 
 
 Oth. Ha! ha! false to me? 
 
 logo. 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 abused 
 Than but to know 't a little. 
 
 logo. How now, my lord! 
 
 Oth. What sense had I of her stol'n hours of lust? 
 I saw 't not, thought it not, it harm'd not me: 
 I slept the' next night well, was free and merry; 340 
 I found not Cassio's kisses on her lips: 
 He that is robb'd, not wanting what is stol'n, 
 Let him not know 't and he 's not robbed at all. 
 
 logo. I am sorry to hear this. 
 
 Oth. I had been happy, if the general camp, 
 
 Pioners 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, 350 
 
 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, ariose rude throats 
 The immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit, 
 Farewell! Othello's occupation's gone! 
 
 I ago. Is 't possible, my lord? 
 
 Oth. Villain; be sure thou prove my love a whore; 
 
 Be sure of it; give me the ocular proof; 360 
 
 Or, by the worth of man's eternal soul, 
 Thou hadst been better have been born a dog
 
 Act III. Sc. iii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 Than answer my waked wrath! 
 
 lago. Is 't come to this? 
 
 Oth. Make me to see 't; or at the least so prove it, 
 
 That the probation bear no hinge nor loop 
 
 To hang a doubt on; or woe upon thy life! 
 lago. My noble lord, 
 Oth. If thou dost slander her and torture me, 
 
 Never pray more; abandon all remorse; 
 
 On horror's head horrors accumulate; 370 
 
 Do deeds to make heaven weep, all earth amazed; 
 
 For nothing canst thou to damnation add 
 
 Greater than that. . 
 lago. O grace! O heaven defend me! 
 
 Are you a man? have you a soul or sense? 
 
 God be wi' you; take mine office. O wretched 
 fool, 
 
 That livest to make thine honesty a vice! 
 
 monstrous world! Take note, take note, O world, 
 To be direct and honest is not safe. 
 
 1 thank you for this profit, and from hence 
 
 I '11 love no friend sith love breeds such offence. 380 
 
 Oth. Nay, stay: thou shouldst be honest. 
 
 lago. 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; 
 I think that thou art just, and think thou art not : 
 I '11 have some proof. Her name, that was as fresh 
 As Dian's visage, is now begrimed and black 
 As mine own face. If there be cords, or knives, 
 Poison, or fire, or suffocating streams, 
 I '11 not endure it. Would I were satisfied! 390 
 92
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act III. Sc. iii. 
 
 lago. I see, sir, you are eaten up with passion: 
 I do repent me that I put it to you. 
 You would be satisfied? 
 
 Gth. Would! nay, I will. 
 
 lago. And may: but, how? how satisfied, my lord? 
 Would you, the supervisor, grossly gape on? 
 Behold her topp'd? 
 
 Oth. Death and damnation! O! 
 
 lago. It were a tedious difficulty, I think, 
 
 To bring them to that prospect: damn them then, 
 
 If ever mortal eyes do see them bolster 
 
 More than their own! What then? how then? 400 
 
 What shall I say? Where 's satisfaction? 
 
 It is impossible you should see this, 
 
 Were they as prime as goats, as hot as monkeys, 
 
 As salt as wolves in pride, and fools as gross 
 
 As ignorance made drunk. But yet, I say, 
 
 If imputation and strong circumstances, 
 
 Which lead directly to the door of truth, 
 
 Will give you satisfaction, you may have 't. 
 
 Oth. Give me a living reason she 's disloyal. 
 
 lago. I do not like the office: 410 
 
 But sith I am enter'd in this cause so far, 
 Prick'd to 't by foolish honesty and love, 
 I will go on. I lay with Cassio lately, 
 And being troubled with a raging tooth, 
 I could not sleep. 
 
 There are a kind of men so loose of soul, 
 That in their sleeps will mutter their affairs : 
 One of this kind is Cassio: 
 In sleep I heard him say ' Sweet Desdemona, 
 Let us be wary, let us hide our loves'; 420 
 
 93
 
 Act III. Sc. Hi TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 And then, sir, would he gripe and wring my 
 hand, 
 
 Cry ' O sweet creature ! ' and then kiss me hard, 
 
 As if he pluck'd up kisses by the roots, 
 
 That grew upon my lips : then laid his leg 
 
 Over my thigh, and sigh'd and kiss'd, and then 
 
 Cried ' Cursed fate that gave thee to the Moor! ' 
 Oth. O monstrous! monstrous! 
 
 logo. Nay, this was but his dream. 
 
 Oth. But this denoted a foregone conclusion: 
 
 'Tis a shrewd doubt, though it be but a dream. 
 logo. And this may help to thicken other proofs 430 
 
 That do demonstrate thinly. 
 
 Oth. I '11 tear her all to pieces. 
 
 logo. Nay, but be wise : yet we see nothing done ; 
 
 She may be honest yet. Tell me but this ; 
 
 Have you not sometimes seen a handkerchief 
 
 Spotted with strawberries in your wife's hand: 
 Oth. I gave her such a one; 'twas my first gift. 
 logo. I know not that : but such a handkerchief 
 
 I am sure it was your wife's did I to-day 
 
 See Cassio wipe his beard with. 
 Oth. If it be that, 
 
 logo. If it be that, or any that was hers, 440 
 
 It speaks against her with the other proofs. 
 Oth. O, that the slave had forty thousand lives! 
 
 One is too poor, too weak for my revenge. 
 
 Now do I see 'tis true. Look here, lago; 
 
 All my fond love thus do I blow to heaven: 
 
 'Tis gone. 
 
 Arise, black vengeance, from thy hollow cell! 
 
 Yield up, O love, thy crown and hearted throne 
 
 1 94
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act III. Sc. iii. 
 
 To tyrannous hate! Swell, bosom, with thy fraught, 
 For 'tis of aspics' tongues! 
 
 I ago. Yet be content. 450 
 
 Oth. O, blood, blood, blood! 
 
 logo. Patience, I say; your mind perhaps may change. 
 
 Oth. Never, lago. Like to the Pontic sea, 
 
 Whose icy current and compulsive course 
 Ne'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on 
 To the Propontic and the Hellespont; 
 Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace, 
 Shall ne'er look back, ne'er ebb to humble love, 
 Till that a capable and wide revenge 459 
 
 Swallow them up. Now, by yond marble heaven, 
 In the due reverence of a sacred vow [Kneels. 
 
 I here engage my words. 
 
 logo. Do not rise yet. [Kneels. 
 
 Witness, you ever-burning lights above, 
 You elements that clip us round about, 
 Witness that here lago doth give up 
 The execution of his wit, hands, heart, 
 To wrong'd Othello's service! Let him command, 
 And to obey shall be in me remorse, 
 What bloody business ever. [They rise. 
 
 Oth. I greet thy love, 
 
 Not with vain thanks, but with acceptance bounteous, 
 And will upon the instant put thee to 't: 471 
 
 Within these three days let me hear thee say 
 That Cassio 's not alive. 
 
 lago. My friend is dead; 'tis done at your request: 
 But let her live. 
 
 Oth. Damn her, lewd minx! O, damn her! 
 
 Come, go with me apart; I will withdraw, 
 
 95
 
 Act III. Sc. iv. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO. 
 
 To furnish me with some swift means of death 
 For the fair devil. Now art thou my lieutenant. 
 I ago. I am your own for ever. [E.veunt. 
 
 Scene IV. 
 
 Before the castle. 
 Enter Desdemona, Emilia, and Clown. 
 
 DCS. Do you know, sirrah, where Lieutenant 
 
 Cassio lies ? 
 
 Clo. I dare not say he lies anywhere. 
 Des. Why, man? 
 Clo. He 's a soldier; and for one to say a soldier lies, 
 
 is stabbing. 
 
 DCS. Go to: where lodges he? 
 Clo. To tell you where he lodges, is to tell you where 
 
 I lie. 
 
 DCS. Can any thing be made of this? 10 
 
 Clo. I know not where he lodges; and for me to 
 
 devise a lodging, and say he lies here or he lies 
 
 there, were to lie in mine own throat. 
 Des. Can you inquire him out and be edified by 
 
 report? 
 Clo. I will catechize the world for him ; that is, make 
 
 questions and by them answer. 
 Des. Seek him, bid him come hither: tell him I have 
 
 moved my lord on his behalf and hope all will 
 
 be well. 20 
 
 Clo. To do this is within the compass of man's wit, 
 
 and therefore I will attempt the doing it. [Exit. 
 
 Des. Where should I lose that handkerchief, Emilia? 
 Emil. I know not, madam. 
 Des. Believe me, I had rather have lost my purse 
 
 96
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act III. Sc. iv. 
 
 Full of crusadoes : and, but my noble Moor 
 Is true of mind and made of no such baseness 
 As jealous creatures are, it were enough 
 To put him to ill thinking. 
 
 Emil. Is he not jealous? 
 
 Des. Who, he.? I think the sun where he was born 30 
 Drew all such humours from him. 
 
 Emil. Look, where he comes. 
 
 Des. I will not leave him now till Cassio 
 Be call'd to him. 
 
 Enter Othello. 
 
 How is 't with you, my lord? 
 
 Oth. Well, my good lady. [Aside} O, hardness to dis- 
 semble! 
 
 How do you, Desdemona? 
 
 Des. Well, my good lord. 
 
 Oth. Give me your hand : this hand is moist, my lady. 
 Des. It yet has felt no age nor known no sorrow. 
 Oth. This argues fruitfulness and liberal heart: 
 
 Hot, hot, and moist: this hand of yours requires 
 
 A sequester from liberty, fasting and prayer, 40 
 
 Much castigation, exercise devout; 
 
 For here 's a young and sweating devil here, 
 
 That commonly rebels. 'Tis a good hand, 
 
 A frank one. 
 Des. You may, indeed, say so; 
 
 For 'twas that hand that gave away my heart. 
 Oth. A liberal hand: the hearts of old gave hands; 
 
 But our new heraldry is hands, not hearts. 
 DCS. I cannot speak of this. Come now, your promise. 
 Oth. What promise, chuck? 
 
 97
 
 Act III. Sc. iv. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 DCS. I have sent to bid Cassio come speak with you. 50 
 
 Oth. I have a salt and sorry rheum offends me ; 
 Lend me thy handkerchief. 
 
 DCS. Here, my lord. 
 
 Oth. That which I gave you. 
 
 DCS. I have it not about me. 
 
 Oth. Not? 
 
 DCS. No, indeed, my lord. 
 
 Oth. That 's a fault. That handkerchief 
 Did an Egyptian to my mother give; 
 She was a charmer, and could almost read 
 The thoughts of people: she told her, while she 
 
 kept it 
 
 'Twould make her amiable and subdue my father 
 Entirely to her love, but if she lost it 60 
 
 Or made a gift of it, my father's eye 
 Should hold her loathed and his spirits should hunt 
 After new fancies: she dying gave it me, 
 And bid me, when my fate would have me wife, 
 To give it her. I did so: and take heed on 't; 
 Make it a darling like your precious eye; 
 To lose 't or give 't away were such perdil:ion 
 As nothing else could match. 
 
 Des. Is 't possible? 
 
 Oth. 'Tis true: there 's magic in a web of it: 
 
 A sibyl, that had number'd in the world 70 
 
 The sun to course two hundred compasses, 
 
 In her prophetic fury sew'd the work; 
 
 The worms were hallow'd that did breed the silk; 
 
 And it was dyed in mummy which the skilful 
 
 Conserved of maidens' hearts. 
 
 Des. Indeed, is *t true? 
 
 98
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act III. Sc. iv. 
 
 Oth. Most veritable; therefore look to 't well. 
 
 DCS. Then would to God that I had never seen 't! 
 
 Oth. Ha! wherefore? 
 
 DCS. Why do you speak so startingly and rash? 
 
 Oth. Is 't lost? is 't gone? speak, is it out o' the way? 80 
 
 DCS. Heaven bless us! 
 
 Oth. Say you? 
 
 DCS. It is not lost ; but what an if it were ? 
 
 Oth. How! 
 
 DCS. I say, it is not lost. 
 
 Oth. Fetch 't, let me see it. 
 
 Des. Why, so I can, sir, but I will not now. 
 
 This is a trick to put me from my suit : 
 
 Pray you, let Cassio be received again. 
 Oth. Fetch me the handkerchief: my mind misgives. 
 DCS. Come, come; 90 
 
 You '11 never meet a more sufficient man. 
 Oth. The handkerchief! 
 
 DCS. I pray, talk me of Cassio. 
 
 Oth. The handkerchief! 
 DCS. A man that all his time 
 
 Hath founded his good fortunes on your love, 
 
 Shared dangers with you, 
 Oth. The handkerchief! 
 DCS. In sooth, you are to blame. 
 
 Oth. Away! [Exit. 
 
 Emil. Is not this man jealous? 
 DCS. I ne'er saw this before. 100 
 
 Sure there's some wonder in this handkerchief: 
 
 I am most unhappy in the loss of it. 
 Emil. 'Tis not a year or two shows us a man : 
 
 They are all but stomachs and we all but food; 
 
 09
 
 Act III. Sc. iv. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 They eat us hungerly, and when they are full 
 
 They belch us. Look you, Cassio and my husband. 
 
 Enter Cassio and logo. 
 
 I ago. There is no other way; 'tis she must do 't: 
 And, lo, the happiness! go and importune her. 
 
 DCS. How now, good Cassio! what 's the news with you? 
 
 Cos. Madam, my former suit: I do beseech you no 
 That by your virtuous means I may again 
 Exist, and be a member of his love 
 Whom I with all the office of my heart 
 Entirely honour: I would not be delay'd. 
 If my offence be of such mortal kind, 
 That nor my service past nor present sorrows 
 Nor purposed merit in futurity 
 Can ransom me into his love again, 
 But to know so must be my benefit; 
 So shall I clothe me in a forced content 120 
 
 And shut myself up in some other course 
 To fortune's alms. 
 
 Des. Alas, thrice-gentle Cassio! 
 
 My advocation is not now in tune; 
 My lord is not my lord, nor should I know him 
 Were he in favour as in humour alter'd. 
 So help me every spirit sanctified, 
 As I have spoken for you all my best 
 And stood within the blank of his displeasure 
 For my free speech! You must awhile be patient: 
 What I can do I will; and more I will 130 
 
 Than for myself I dare : let that suffice you. 
 
 logo. Is my lord angry? 
 
 Emil. . He went hence but now, 
 
 100
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act III. Sc. iv. 
 
 And certainly in strange unquietness. 
 
 logo. Can he be angry? I have seen the cannon, 
 When it hath blown his ranks into the air, 
 And, like the devil, from his very arm 
 Puff'd his own brother; and can he be angry? 
 Something of moment then: I will go meet him: 
 There 's matter in 't indeed if he be angry. 
 
 DCS. I prithee, do so. [Exit I a go. 
 
 Something sure of state, 140 
 
 Either from Venice some unhatch'd practice 
 Made demonstrable here in Cyprus to him, 
 Hath puddled his clear spirit; and in such cases 
 Men's natures wrangle with inferior things, 
 Though great ones are their object. 'Tis even so; 
 For let our finger ache, and it indues 
 Our other healthful members even to that sense 
 Of pain: nay, we must think men are not gods, 
 Nor of them look for such observancy 
 As fits the bridal. Beshrew me much, Emilia, 150 
 I was, unhandsome warrior as I am, 
 Arraigning his unkindness with my soul; 
 But now I find I had suborn'd the witness, 
 And he 's indicted falsely. 
 
 Emil. Pray heaven it be state-matters, as you think, 
 And no conception nor no jealous toy 
 Concerning you. 
 
 DCS. Alas the day, I never gave him cause! 
 
 Emil. But jealous souls will not be answer'd so; 
 
 They are not ever jealous for the cause, 160 
 
 But jealous for they are jealous: 'tis a monster 
 Begot upon itself, born on itself. 
 
 DCS. Heaven keep that monster from Othello's mind! 
 
 101
 
 Act III. Sc. iv. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 Emil. Lady, amen. 
 
 Des. I will go seek him. Cassio, walk hereabout : 
 
 If I do find him fit, I '11 move your suit, 
 
 And seek to effect it to my uttermost. 
 Cas. I humbly thank your ladyship. 
 
 [Exeunt Dcsdemona and Emilia. 
 
 Enter Bianco. 
 
 Bian. Save you, friend Cassio! 
 
 Cas. What make you from home? 
 
 How is it with you, my most fair Bianca? 170 
 
 F faith, sweet love, I was coming to your house. 
 
 Bian. And I was going to your lodging, Cassio. 
 
 What, keep a week away? seven days and nights? 
 Eight score eight hours? and lovers' absent hours, 
 More tedious than the dial eight score times? 
 
 weary reckoning! 
 
 Cas. Pardon me, Bianca: 
 
 1 have this while with leaden thoughts been press'd; 
 But I shall in a more continuate time 
 
 Strike off this score of absence. Sweet Bianca, 
 
 [Giving her Desdemona's handkerchief. 
 Take me this work out. 
 
 Bian. O Cassio, whence came this? 
 
 This is some token from a newer friend: 181 
 
 To the felt absence now I feel a cause: 
 Is 't come to this? Well, well. 
 
 Cas. Go to, woman ! 
 
 Throw your vile guesses in the devil's teeth, 
 From whence you have them. You are jealous now 
 That this is from some mistress, some remembrance : 
 No, by my faith, Bianca. 
 1 02
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act IV. Sc. i. 
 
 Bian. Why, whose is it? 
 
 Cos. I know not, sweet: I found it in my chamber. 
 
 I like the work well: ere it be demanded 
 
 As like enough it will I 'Id have it copied: 190 
 
 Take it, and do 't; and leave me for this time. 
 Bian. Leave you! wherefore? 
 Cos. I do attend here on the general; 
 
 And think it no addition, nor my wish, 
 
 To have him see me woman'd. 
 
 Bian. Why, I pray you? 
 
 Cos. Not that I love you not. 
 Bian. But that you do not love me. 
 
 I pray you, bring me on the way a little; 
 
 And say if I shall see you soon at night. 
 Cos. 'Tis but a little way that I can bring you ; 
 
 For I attend here: but I '11 see you soon. 200 
 
 Bian. 'Tis very good; I must be circumstanced. [Exeunt. 
 
 ACT FOURTH. 
 Scene I. 
 
 Cyprus. Before the castle. 
 Enter Othello and logo. 
 
 logo. Will you think so? 
 
 Oth. Think so, lago! 
 
 lago. What, 
 
 To kiss in private? 
 
 Oth. An unauthorized kiss. 
 
 lago. Or to be naked with her friend in bed 
 
 An hour or more, not meaning any harm? 
 Oth. Naked in bed, lago, and not mean harm! 
 
 103
 
 Act IV. Sc. i. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 It is hypocrisy against the devil: 
 
 They that mean virtuously and yet do so, 
 
 The devil their virtue tempts and they tempt heaven. 
 
 logo. So they do nothing, 'tis a venial slip: 
 
 But if I give my wife a handkerchief 10 
 
 Oth. What then? 
 
 I ago. Why, then, 'tis hers, my lord; and being hers, 
 She may, I think, bestow t on any man. 
 
 Oth. She is protectress of her honour too : 
 May she give that? 
 
 logo. Her honour is an essence that 's not seen; 
 They have it very oft that have it not: 
 But for the handkerchief 
 
 Oth. By heaven, I would most gladly have forgot it; 
 
 Thou said'st O, it comes o'er my memory, 20 
 As doth the raven o'er the infected house, 
 Boding to all he had my handkerchief. 
 
 logo. Ay, what of that? 
 
 Oth. That 's not so good now. 
 
 logo. What, 
 
 If I had said I had seen him do you wrong? 
 Or heard him say as knaves be such abroad, 
 Who having, by their own importunate suit, 
 Or voluntary dotage of some mistress, 
 Convinced or supplied them, cannot choose 
 But they must blab 
 
 Oth. Hath he said anything? 
 
 logo. He hath, my lord ; but be you well assured, 30 
 No more than he '11 unswear. 
 
 Oth. What hath he said? 
 
 lago. Faith, that he did I know not what he did. 
 
 Oth. What, what? 
 
 104
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act IV. Sc. i. 
 
 logo. Lie 
 
 Oth. With her? 
 
 logo. With her, on her; what you will. 
 
 Oth. Lie with her! lie on her! We say lie on her, 
 when they belie her. Lie with her! 'Zounds, 
 that's fulsome! Handkerchief confessions 
 handkerchief! To confess, and be hanged 
 for his labour ; first, to be hanged, and then to 40 
 confess. I tremble at it. Nature would not in- 
 vest herself in such shadowing passion without 
 some instruction. It is not words that shakes 
 me thus. Pish! Noses, ears and lips. Is 't pos- 
 sible ? Confess ? Handkerchief ? O devil ! 
 
 [Falls in a trance. 
 
 logo. Work on, 
 
 My medicine, work! Thus credulous fools are 
 
 caught : 
 
 And many worthy and chaste dames even thus, 
 All guiltless, meet reproach. What, ho! my lord! 
 My lord, I say! Othello! 
 
 Enter Cassio. 
 
 How now, Cassio! 
 
 Cos. What 's the matter? 50 
 
 logo. My lord is fall'n into an epilepsy: 
 
 This is his second fit; he had one yesterday. 
 
 Cos. Rub him about the temples. 
 
 logo. No, forbear; 
 
 The lethargy must have his quiet course: 
 If not, he foams at mouth, and by and by 
 Breaks out to savage madness. Look, he stirs: 
 Do you withdraw yourself a little while, 
 
 105
 
 Act IV. Sc. i. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 He will recover straight : when he is gone, 
 I would on great occasion speak with you. 
 
 {Exit Cassio. 
 How is it, general? have you not hurt your head? 
 
 Oth. Dost thou mock me? 
 
 I a go. I mock you! no, by heaven. 61 
 
 Would you would bear your fortune like a man! 
 
 Oth. A horned man 's a monster and a beast. 
 
 logo. There 's many a beast then in a populous city, 
 And many a civil monster. 
 
 Oth. Did he confess it? 
 
 lago. Good sir, be a man; 
 
 Think every bearded fellow that 's but yoked 
 
 May draw with you : there 's millions now alive 
 
 That nightly lie in those unproper beds 
 
 Which they dare swear peculiar: your case is better. 
 
 O, 'tis the spite of hell, the fiend's arch-mock, 71 
 
 To lip a wanton in a secure couch, 
 
 And to suppose her chaste! No, let me know; 
 
 And knowing what I am, I know what she shall be. 
 
 Oth. O, thou art wise; 'tis certain. 
 
 lago. Stand you awhile apart; 
 
 Confine yourself but in a patient list. 
 Whilst you were here o'erwhelmed with your grief 
 A passion most unsuiting such a man 
 Cassio came hither: I shifted him away, 
 And laid good 'scuse upon your ecstasy; 80 
 
 Bade him anon return and here speak with me; 
 The which he promised. Do but encave yourself, 
 And mark the fleers, the gibes and notable scorns, 
 That dwell in every region of his face; 
 For I will make him tell the tale anew, 
 106
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act IV. Sc. i. 
 
 Where, how, how oft, how long ago and when 
 He hath and is again to cope your wife : 
 I say, but mark his gesture. Marry, patience; 
 Or I shall say you are all in all in spleen, 
 And nothing of a man. 
 
 Oth. Dost thou hear, lago? 90 
 
 I will be found most cunning in my patience; 
 But -dost thou hear? most bloody. 
 
 lago. That 's not amiss ; 
 
 But yet keep time in all. Will you withdraw ? 
 
 [Othello retires. 
 
 Now will I question Cassio of Bianca, 
 A housewife that by selling her desires 
 Buys herself bread and clothes : it is a creature 
 That dotes on Cassio; as 'tis the strumpet's plague 
 To beguile many and be beguiled by one. 
 He, when he hears of her, cannot refrain 
 From the excess of laughter. Here he comes. 100 
 
 Re-enter Cassio. 
 
 As he shall smile, Othello shall go mad; 
 
 And his unbookish jealousy must construe 
 
 Poor Cassio's smiles, gestures and light behaviour, 
 
 Quite in the wrong. How do you now, lieutenant? 
 Cos. The worser that you give me the addition 
 
 Whose want even kills me. 
 lago. Ply Desdemona well, and you are sure on 't. 
 
 Now, if this suit lay in Bianca's power, 
 
 How quickly should you speed! 
 
 Cos. Alas, poor caitiff! 
 
 Oth. Look, how he laughs already! no 
 
 lago. I never knew a woman love man so. 
 
 107
 
 Act IV. Sc. i. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 Cas. Alas, poor rogue! I think, i' faith, she loves 
 me. 
 
 Oth. Now he denies it faintly and laughs it out. 
 
 logo. Do you hear, Cassio? 
 
 Oth. Now he importunes him 
 
 To tell it o'er: go to; well said, well said. 
 
 lago. She gives it out that you shall marry her: 
 Do you intend it? 
 
 Cas. Ha, ha, ha! 120 
 
 Oth. Do you triumph, Roman? do you triumph? 
 
 Cas. I marry her! what, a customer! I prithee, 
 bear some charity to my wit; do not think it so 
 unwholesome. Ha, ha, ha! 
 
 Oth. So, so, so, so : they laugh that win. 
 
 lago. Faith, the cry goes that you shall marry her. 
 
 Cas. Prithee, say true. 
 
 lago. I am a very villain else. 
 
 Oth. Have you scored me? Well. 
 
 Cas. This is the monkey's own giving out: she is 130 
 persuaded I will marry her, out of her own love 
 and flattery, not out of my promise. 
 
 Oth. lago beckons me; now he begins the story. 
 
 Cas. She was here even now: she haunts me in every 
 place. I was the other day talking on the sea- 
 bank with certain Venetians ; and thither comes 
 the bauble, and, by this hand, she falls me thus 
 about my neck 
 
 Oth. Crying ' O dear Cassio! ' as it were: his ges- 
 ture imports it. 14 
 
 Cas. So hangs and lolls and weeps upon me; so 
 hales and pulls me: ha, ha, ha! 
 
 Oth. Now he tells how she plucked him to my 
 
 108
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act IV. Sc. i. 
 
 chamber. O, I see that nose of yours, but not 
 
 that dog I shall throw it to. 
 Cos. Well, I must leave her company. 
 I ago. Before me ! look, where she comes. 
 Cos. 'Tis such another fitchew ! marry, a perfumed 
 
 one. 
 
 Enter Bianco. 
 
 What do you mean by this haunting of me ? 150 
 
 Bian. Let the devil and his dam haunt you ! What 
 did you mean by that same handkerchief you 
 gave me even now ! I was a fine fool to take 
 it. I must take out the work? A likely piece 
 of work, that you should find it in your chamber, 
 and not know who left it there ! This is some 
 minx's token, and I must take out the work? 
 There; give it your hobby-horse: wheresoever 
 you had it, I '11 take out no work on 't. 
 
 Cos. How now, my sweet Bianca! how now! how 160 
 now! 
 
 Oth. By heaven, that should be my handkerchief ! 
 
 Bian. An you '11 come to supper to-night, you may ; 
 an you will not, come when you are next pre- 
 pared for. [Exit. 
 
 logo. After her, after her. 
 
 Cos. Faith, I must ; she '11 rail i' the street else. 
 
 lago. Will you sup there? 
 
 Cas. Faith, I intend so. 
 
 lago. Well, I may chance to see you; for I would 170 
 very fain speak with you. 
 
 Cas. Prithee, come ; will you ? 
 
 lago. Go to ; say no more. [Exit Cassia. 
 
 Oth. [Advancing} How shall I murder him, lago? 
 
 109
 
 Act IV. Sc. i. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 logo. Did you perceive how he laughed at his vice? 
 
 Oth. O lago ! 
 
 I ago. And did you see the handkerchief? 
 
 Oth. Was that mine? 
 
 lago. Yours, by this hand : and to see how he prizes 
 
 the foolish woman your wife! she gave it him, 180 
 and he hath given it his whore. 
 
 Oth. I would have him nine years a-killing. A fine 
 woman ! a fair woman ! a sweet woman ! 
 
 lago. Nay, you must forget that. 
 
 Oth. Ay, let her rot, and perish, and be damned to- 
 night ; for she shall not live : no, my heart is 
 turned to stone ; I strike it, and it hurts my 
 hand. O, the world hath not a sweeter crea- 
 ture: she might lie by an emperor's side, and 
 command him tasks. 190 
 
 lago. Nay, that 's not your way. 
 
 Oth. Hang her ! I do but say what she is : so deli- 
 cate with her needle : an admirable musician : 
 O, she will sing the savageness out of a bear: 
 of so high and plenteous wit and invention : 
 
 lago. She 's the worse for all this. 
 
 Oth. O, a thousand thousand times: and then, of so 
 gentle a condition ! 
 
 lago. Ay, too gentle. 
 
 Oth. Nay, that 's certain : but yet the pity of it, lago ! 200 
 O lago, the pity of it, lago ! 
 
 lago. If you are so fond over her iniquity, give her 
 patent to offend ; for, if it touch not you, it 
 comes near nobody. 
 
 Oth. I will chop her into messes : cuckold me! 
 
 lago. O, 'tis foul in her. 
 
 no
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act IV. Sc. i. 
 
 Oth. With mine officer ! 
 
 logo. That 's fouler. 
 
 Oth. Get me some poison, lago ; this night. I '11 not 
 
 expostulate with her, lest her body and beauty 210 
 
 unprovide my mind again : this night, lago. 
 logo. Do it not with poison, strangle her in her bed, 
 
 even the bed she hath contaminated. 
 Oth. Good, good : the justice of it pleases : very good. 
 lago. And for Cassio, let me be his undertaker : you 
 
 shall hear more by midnight. 
 Oth. Excellent good. [A trumpet within.} What 
 
 trumpet is that same? 
 lago. Something from Venice, sure. Tis Lodovico 
 
 Come from the duke : and, see, your wife is with him. 
 
 Enter Lodovico, Desdemona, and Attendants. 
 
 Lod. God save the worthy general ! 
 
 Oth. With all my heart, sir. 
 
 Lod. The duke and senators of Venice greet you. 221 
 
 [Gives him a letter. 
 Oth. I kiss the instrument of their pleasures. 
 
 [Opens the letter, and reads. 
 
 Des. And what 's the news, good cousin Lodovico ? 
 lago. I am very glad to see you, signior ; 
 
 Welcome to Cyprus. 
 
 Lod. I thank you. How does Lieutenant Cassio? 
 lago. Lives, sir. 
 Des. Cousin, there 's fall'n between him and my lord 
 
 An unkind breach : but you shall make all well. 
 Oth. Are you sure of that ? 230 
 
 Des. My lord ? 
 Oth. [Reads] ' This fail you not to do as you will ' 
 
 in
 
 Act IV. Sc. i. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 Lod. He did not call ; he 's busy in the paper. 
 
 Is there division 'tVixt my lord and Cassio? 
 DCS. A most unhappy one : I would do much 
 
 To atone them, for the love I bear to Cassio. 
 Oth. Fire and brimstone ! 
 Des. My lord? 
 
 Oth. Are you wise? 
 
 Des. What, is he angry ? 
 Lod. May be the letter moved him ; 
 
 For, as I think, they do command him home, 
 
 Deputing Cassio in his government. 
 Des. By my troth, I am glad on 't. 
 Oth. Indeed! 
 
 Des. My lord ? 240 
 
 Oth. I am glad to see you mad. 
 Des. Why, sweet Othello? 
 
 Oth. Devil ! [Striking her. 
 
 Des. I have not deserved this. 
 Lod. My lord, this would not be believed in Venice, 
 
 Though I should swear I saw 't : 'tis very much : 
 
 Make her amends ; she weeps. 
 Oth. O devil, devil! 
 
 If that the earth could teem with woman's tears, 
 
 Each drop she falls would prove a crocodile. 
 
 Out of my sight ! 
 
 Des. I will not stay to offend you. [Going. 
 
 Lod. Truly, an obedient lady : 250 
 
 I do beseech your lordship, call her back. 
 Oth. Mistress! 
 Des. My lord? 
 
 Oth. What would you with her, sir? 
 Lod. Who, I, my lord ? 
 
 112
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act IV. Sc. i. 
 
 Oth. Ay ; you did wish that I would make her turn : 
 Sir, she can turn and turn, and yet go on, 
 And turn again ; and she can weep, sir, weep ; 
 And she 's obedient, as you say, obedient, 
 Very obedient. Proceed you in your tears. 
 Concerning this, sir, O well-painted passion ! 
 I am commanded home. Get you away ; 260 
 
 I '11 send for you anon. Sir, I obey the mandate, 
 And will return to Venice. Hence, avaunt ! 
 
 [E.rit Dcsdemona. 
 
 Cassio shall have my place. And, sir, to-night, 
 I do entreat that we may sup together : 
 You are welcome, sir, to Cyprus. Goats and mon- 
 keys! [E.vit. 
 
 Lod. Is this the noble Moor whom our full senate 
 Call all in all sufficient ? This the nature 
 Whom passion could not shake ? whose solid virtue 
 The shot of accident nor dart of chance 270 
 
 Could neither graze nor pierce ? 
 
 lago. He is much changed. 
 
 Lod. Are his wits safe ? is he not light of brain ? 
 
 logo. He 's that he is : I may not breathe my censure 
 What he might be : if what he might he is not, 
 I would to heaven he were ! 
 
 Lod. What, strike his wife. 
 
 lago. Faith, that was not so well ; yet would I knew 
 That stroke would prove the worst ! 
 
 Lod. Is it his use? 
 
 Or did the letters work upon his blood, 
 And new create this fault ? 
 
 logo. Alas, alas ! 
 
 It is not honesty in me to speak 280 
 
 113
 
 Act IV. Sc. ii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 What I have seen and known. You shall observe him, 
 And his own courses will denote him so 
 That I may save my speech : do but go after, 
 And mark how he continues. 
 Lod. I am sorry that I am deceived in him. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 A room in the castle. 
 Enter Othello and Emilia. 
 
 Oth. You have seen nothing, then ? 
 
 Emil. Nor ever heard, nor ever did suspect. 
 
 Oth. Yes, you have seen Cassio and she together. 
 
 Emil. But then I saw no harm, and then I heard 
 
 Each syllable that breath made up between them. 
 
 Oth. What, did they never whisper ? 
 
 Emil. Never, my lord. 
 
 Oth. Nor send you out o' the way ? 
 
 Emil. Never. 
 
 Oth. To fetch her fan, her gloves, her mask, nor nothing ? 
 
 Emil. Never, my lord. 10 
 
 Oth. That 's strange. 
 
 Emil. I durst, my lord, to wager she is honest, 
 
 Lay down my soul at stake : if you think other, 
 Remove your thought ; it doth abuse your bosom. 
 If any wretch have put this in your head, 
 Let heaven requite it with the serpent's curse! 
 For if she be not honest, chaste and true, 
 There 's no man happy ; the purest of their wives 
 Is foul as slander. 
 
 Oth. Bid her come hither : go. [Exit Emilia. 
 
 She says enough : yet she 's a simple bawd 20 
 
 114
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act IV. Sc. ii. 
 
 That cannot say as much. This is a subtle whore, 
 
 A closet lock and key of villanous secrets : 
 
 And yet she '11 kneel and pray ; I have seen her do 't. 
 
 Enter Desdemona ivith Emilia. 
 
 DCS. My lord, what is your will ? 
 
 Oth. Pray, chuck, come hither. 
 
 Des. What is your pleasure? 
 
 Oth. Let me see your eyes ; 
 
 Look in my face. 
 
 Des. What horrible fancy 's this ? 
 
 Oth. [To Emilia] Some of your function, mistress, 
 
 Leave procreants alone and shut the door ; 
 
 Cough, or cry hem, if any body come : 
 
 Your mystery, your mystery: nay, dispatch. 30 
 
 [Exit Emilia. 
 Des. Upon my knees, what doth your speech import ? 
 
 I understand a fury in your words, 
 
 But not the words. 
 Oth. Why, what art thou ? 
 
 DCS. 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- 
 damn'd ; 
 
 Swear thou art honest. 
 
 Des. t 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! 41 
 
 Des. Alas the heavy day ! Why do you weep ? 
 
 Am I the motive of these tears, my lord ? 
 
 ^*^ 
 
 "5
 
 Act IV. Sc. ii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO. 
 
 If haply you my father do suspect 
 
 An instrument of this your calling back, 
 
 Lay not your blame on me : if you have lost him, 
 
 Why, I have lost him too. 
 
 Oth. Had it pleased heaven 
 
 To try me with affliction ; had they rain'd 
 All kinds of sores and shames on my bare head, 
 Steep'd me in poverty to the very lips, 50 
 
 Given to captivity me and my utmost hopes, 
 I should have found in some place of my soul 
 A drop of patience : but, alas, to make me 
 A fixed figure for the time of scorn 
 To point his slow unmoving finger at ! 
 Yet could I bear that too ; well, very well : 
 But there, where I have garner'd up my heart, 
 Where either I must live or bear no life, 
 The fountain from the which my current runs, 
 Or else dries up ; to be discarded thence ! 60 
 
 Or keep it as a cistern for foul toads 
 To knot and gender in ! Turn thy complexion there, 
 Patience, thou young and rose-lipp'd cherubin, 
 Ay, there, look grim as hell ! 
 
 Des, I hope my noble lord esteems me honest. 
 
 Oth. O, ay ; as summer flies are in the shambles, 
 That quicken even with blowing. O thou weed, 
 Who art so lovely fair and smell'st so sweet 
 That the sense aches at thee, would thou hadst ne'er 
 been born ! 
 
 Des. Alas, what ignorant sin have I committed ? 70 
 
 Oth. Was this fair paper, this most goodly book, 
 
 Made to write ' whore ' upon ? What committed ! 
 Committed! O thou public commoner! 
 116
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act IV. Sc. ii. 
 
 I should make very forges of my cheeks, 
 
 That would to cinders burn up modesty, 
 
 Did I but speak thy deeds. What committed ! 
 
 Heaven stops the nose at it, and the moon winks ; 
 
 The bawdy wind, that kisses all it meets, 
 
 Is hush'd within the hollow mine of earth, 
 
 And will not hear it. What committed ! 80 
 
 Impudent strumpet! 
 
 DCS. By heaven, you do me wrong. 
 
 Oth. Are not you a strumpet? 
 
 Des. No, as I am a Christian : 
 
 If to preserve this vessel for my lord 
 From any other foul unlawful touch 
 Be not to be a strumpet, I am none. 
 
 Oth. What, not a whore? 
 
 DCS. No, as I shall be saved. 
 
 Oth. Is 't possible? 
 
 DCS. O, heaven forgive us ! 
 
 Oth. I cry you mercy then : 
 
 I took you for that cunning whore of Venice 
 That married with Othello. [Raising his voice] 
 You, mistress, 90 
 
 That have the office opposite to Saint Peter, 
 And keep the gate of hell ! 
 
 Re-enter Emilia. 
 
 You, you, ay, you ! 
 We have done our course ; there 's money for your 
 
 pains : 
 I pray you, turn the key, and keep our counsel. 
 
 [Exit. 
 Emil. Alas, what does this gentleman conceive? 
 
 117
 
 Act IV. Sc. ii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 How do you, madam ? how do you, my good lady ? 
 
 DCS. Faith, half asleep. 
 
 Emit. Good madam, what 's the matter with my lord? 
 
 Des. With who? 
 
 Emit. Why, with my lord, madam. 100 
 
 DCS. Who is thy lord ? 
 
 Emil. He that is yours, sweet lady. 
 
 Des. I have none : do not talk to me, Emilia ; 
 I cannot weep, nor answer have I none 
 But what should go by water. Prithee, to-night 
 Lay on my bed my wedding sheets : remember ; 
 And call thy husband hither. 
 
 Emil. Here's a change indeed! 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 DCS. 'Tis meet I should be used so, very meet. 
 
 How have I been behaved, that he might stick 
 The small'st opinion on my least misuse? 
 
 Re-enter Emilia, with lago. 
 
 I ago. What is your pleasure, madam ? How is 't with 
 you? no 
 
 DCS. I cannot tell. Those that do teach young babes 
 
 Do it with gentle means and easy tasks : 
 
 He might have chid me so ; for, in good faith, 
 
 I am a child to chiding. 
 
 lago. What 's the matter, lady ? 
 
 Emil. Alas, lago, my lord hath so bewhored her, 
 
 Thrown such despite and heavy terms upon her, 
 
 As true hearts cannot bear. 
 DCS. Am I that name, lago? 
 
 lago. What name, fair lady ? 
 
 Des. Such as she says my lord did say I was. 
 
 118
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act IV. Sc. ii. 
 
 Emil. He call'd her whore : a beggar in his drink 120 
 Could not have laid such terms upon his callet. 
 
 logo. Why did he so ? 
 
 DCS. I do not know : I am sure I am none such. 
 
 logo. Do not weep, do not weep. Alas the day ! 
 
 Emil. Hath she forsook so many noble matches, 
 Her father and her country and her friends, 
 To be call'd whore ? would it not make one weep ? 
 
 Des. It is my wretched fortune. 
 
 lago. Beshrew him for 't ! 
 
 How comes this trick upon him ? 
 
 Des. Nay, heaven doth know. 
 
 Emil. I will be hang'd, if some eternal villain, 130 
 
 Some busy and insinuating rogue, 
 Some cogging, cozening slave, to get some office. 
 Have not devised this slander ; I '11 be hang'd else. 
 
 logo. Fie, there is no such man : it is impossible. 
 
 Des. If any such there be, heaven pardon him ! 
 
 Emil. A halter pardon him ! and hell gnaw his bones ? 
 Why should he call her whore ? who keeps her com- 
 pany ? 
 
 What place? what time? what form? what likeli- 
 hood? 
 
 The Moor's abused by some most villanous knave, 
 Some base notorious knave, some scurvy fellow. 140 
 O heaven, that such companions thou 'Idst unfold, 
 And put in every honest hand a whip 
 To lash the rascals naked through the world 
 Even from the east to the west ! 
 
 lago. Speak within door. 
 
 Emil. O^fie upon them! Some such squire he was 
 That turn'd your wit the seamy side without, 
 119
 
 Act IV. Sc. ii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 And made you to suspect me with the Moor. 
 
 I ago. You are a fool ; go to. 
 
 Des. O good I ago, 
 
 What shall I do to win my lord again ? 
 Good friend, go to him ; for, by this light of heaven, 
 I know not how I lost him. Here I kneel: 151 
 
 If e'er my will did trespass 'gainst his love 
 Either in discourse of thought or actual deed, 
 Or that mine eyes, mine ears, or any sense, 
 Delighted them in any other form, 
 Or that I do not yet, and ever did, 
 And ever will, though he do shake me off 
 To beggarly divorcement, love him dearly, 
 Comfort forswear me ! Unkindness may do much ; 
 And his unkindness may defeat my life, 160 
 
 But never taint my love. I cannot say ' whore ' : 
 It doth abhor me now I speak the word ; 
 To do the act that might the addition earn 
 Not the world's mass of vanity could make me. 
 
 la-go. I pray you, be content ; 'tis but his humour : 
 The business of the state does him offence, 
 And he does chide with you. 
 
 DCS. If 'twere no other, 
 
 I ago. 'Tis but so, I warrant. [Trumpets within. 
 
 Hark, how these instruments summon to supper ! 
 The messengers of Venice stay the meat : 170 
 
 Go in, and weep not ; all things shall be well. 
 
 [Exeunt Desdemona and Emilia. 
 
 Enter Roderigo. 
 
 How now, Roderigo ! 
 
 Rod. I do not find that thou dealest justly with me. 
 
 120
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act IV. Sc. ii. 
 
 I ago. What in the contrary ? 
 
 Rod. Every day thou daffest me with some device, 
 lago ; and rather, as it seems to me now, keepest 
 from me all conveniency than suppliest me with 
 the least advantage of hope. I will indeed no 
 longer endure it ; nor am I yet persuaded to put 
 up in peace what already I have foolishly suf- 180 
 fered. 
 
 lago. Will you hear me, Roderigo ? 
 
 Rod. Faith, for I have heard too much ; for your 
 words and performances are no kin together. 
 
 lago. You charge me most unjustly. 
 
 Rod. With nought but truth. I have wasted myself 
 out of my means. The jewels you have had 
 from me to deliver to Desdemona would half 
 have corrupted a votarist : you have told me she 
 hath received them and returned me expecta- 
 tions and comforts of sudden respect and ac- 190 
 quaintance ; but I find none. 
 
 lago. Well ; go to ; very well. 
 
 Rod. Very well ! go to ! I cannot go to, man ; nor 
 'tis not very well : by this hand, I say 'tis very 
 scurvy, and begin to find myself fopped in it. 
 
 lago. Very well. 
 
 Rod. I tell you 'tis not very well. I will make myself 
 known to Desdemona : if she will return me my 
 jewels, I will give over my suit and repent my 
 unlawful solicitation ; if not, assure yourself I 200 
 will seek satisfaction of you. 
 
 lago. You have said now. 
 
 Rod. Ay, and said nothing but what I protest intend- 
 ment of doing. 
 
 lago. Why, now I see there 's mettle in thee : and 
 
 121
 
 Act IV. Sc. ii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 even from this instant do build on thee a better 
 opinion than ever before. Give me thy hand, 
 Roderigo : thou hast taken against me a most 
 just exception; but yet, I protest, I have dealt 
 more directly in thy affair. 210 
 
 Rod. It hath not appeared. 
 
 logo. I grant indeed it hath not appeared, and your 
 suspicion is not without wit and judgement. 
 But, Roderigo, if thou hast that in thee indeed, 
 which I have greater reason to believe now than 
 ever, I mean purpose, courage and valour, this 
 night show it : if thou the next night following 
 enjoy not Desdemona, take me from this world 
 with treachery and devise engines for my life. 
 
 Rod. Well, what is it? is it within reason and com- 220 
 pass? 
 
 logo. Sir, there is especial commission come from 
 Venice to depute Cassio in Othello's place. 
 
 Rod. Is that true ? why then Othello and Desdemona 
 return again to Venice. 
 
 logo. O,no ; he goes into Mauritania, and takes away 
 with him the fair Desdemona, unless his abode be 
 lingered here by some accident: wherein none 
 can be so determinate as the removing of Cassio. 230 
 
 Rod. How do you mean, removing of him ? 
 
 lago. Why, by making him uncapable of Othello's 
 place ; knocking out his brains. 
 
 Rod. And that you would have me to do? 
 
 lago. Ay, if you dare do yourself a profit and a right. 
 He sups to-night with a harlotry, and thither will 
 I go to him : he knows not yet of his honourable 
 122
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act IV. Sc. Hi. 
 
 fortune. If you will watch his going thence, 
 which I will fashion to fall out between twelve 
 and one, you may take him at your pleasure : I 240 
 will be near to second your attempt, and he shall 
 fall between us. Come, stand not amazed at it, 
 but go along with me ; I will show you such a 
 necessity in his death that you shall think your- 
 self bound to put it on him. It is now high 
 supper-time, and the night grows to waste: 
 about it. 
 
 Rod. I will hear further reason for this. 
 
 logo. And you shall be satisfied. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 Another room in the castle. 
 
 Enter Othello, Lodovico, Desdemona, Emilia, and 
 Attendants. 
 
 Lod. I do beseech you, sir, trouble yourself no further. 
 
 Oth. O, pardon me ; 'twill do me good to walk. 
 
 Lod. Madam, good night ; I humbly thank your ladyship. 
 
 DCS. Your honour is most welcome. 
 
 Oth. Will you walk, sir? 
 
 O, Desdemona, 
 
 DCS. My lord ? 
 
 Oth. Get you to bed on the instant ; I will be re- 
 turned forthwith : dismiss your attendant there : 
 look it be done. 
 
 Des. I will, my lord. 10 
 
 [Exeunt Othello, Lodovico, and Attendants. 
 
 Einil. How goes it now? he looks gentler than he did. 
 
 Des. He says he will return incontinent : 
 He hath commanded me to go to bed, 
 
 123
 
 Act IV. Sc. Hi. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO. 
 
 And bade me to dismiss you. 
 
 EmiL Dismiss me! 
 
 DCS. It was his bidding ; therefore, good Emilia, 
 Give me my nightly wearing, and adieu : 
 We must not now displease him. 
 
 EmiL I would you had never seen him! 
 
 Des. So would not I : my love doth so approve him, 19 
 That even his stubbornness, his checks, his frowns, 
 Prithee, unpin me, have grace and favour in 
 them. 
 
 EmiL I have laid those sheets you bade me on the 
 bed. 
 
 DCS. All 's one. Good faith, how foolish are our minds ! 
 If I do die before thee, prithee, shroud me 
 In one of those same sheets. 
 
 Emit. Come, come, you talk. 
 
 DCS. My mother had a maid call'd Barbara : 
 
 She was in love ; and he she loved proved mad 
 And did forsake her : she had a song of ' willow ' ; 
 An old thing 'twas, but it express'd her fortune, 
 And she died singing it : that song to-night 30 
 
 Will not go from my mind ; I have much to do 
 But to go hang my head all at one side 
 And sing it like poor Barbara. Prithee, dispatch. 
 
 EmiL Shall I go fetch your night-gown ? 
 
 Des. No, unpin me here. 
 
 This Lodovico is a proper man. 
 
 EmiL A very handsome man. 
 
 Des. He speaks well. 
 
 EmiL I know a lady in Venice would have walked 
 barefoot to Palestine for a touch of his nether 
 lip. 4b 
 
 124
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act IV. Sc. iii. 
 
 Des. [Singing] The poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree, 
 
 Sing all a green willow ; 
 Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee, 
 
 Sing willow, willow, willow : 
 The fresh streams ran by her, and murmur'd her 
 
 moans ; 
 
 Sing willow, willow, willow ; 
 
 Her salt tears fell from her, and soften'd the stones ; 
 Lay by these : 
 
 [Singing^' Sing willow, willow, willow } 
 
 Prithee, hie thee ; he '11 come anon : 50 
 
 [Singing] Sing alia green willow must be my garland. 
 Let nobody blame him ; his scorn I approve, 
 
 Nay, that 's not next. Hark ! who is 't that knocks ? 
 Emit. It 's the wind. 
 
 Des. [Singing] I call'd my love false love; but what 
 
 said he then ? 
 
 Sing willow, willow, willow : 
 If I court moe women, you '11 couch with moe men. 
 
 So get thee gone ; good night. Mine eyes do itch ; 
 
 Doth that bode weeping? 
 
 Emil. 'Tis neither here nor there. 
 
 Des. I have heard it said so. O, these men, these men ! 
 
 Dost thou in conscience think, tell me, Emilia, 
 
 That there be women do abuse their husbands 62 
 
 In such gross kind? 
 
 Emil. There be some such, no question. 
 
 Des. Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world ? 
 Emil. Why, would not you? 
 
 No, by this heavenly light ! 
 
 125
 
 Act IV. Sc. iii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 Emil. Nor I neither by this heavenly light ; I might 
 do 't as well i' the dark. 
 
 DCS. Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world ? 
 
 Emil. The world 's a huge thing : it is a great price 
 For a small vice. 
 
 Des. In troth, I think thou wouldst not. 
 
 Emil. In troth, I think I should ; and undo 't when I 71 
 had done. Marry, I would not do such a thing 
 for a joint-ring, nor for measures of lawn, nor 
 for gowns, petticoats, nor caps, nor any petty 
 exhibition ; but, for the whole world, why, 
 who would not make her husband a cuckold to 
 make him a monarch ? I should venture purga- 
 tory for 't. 
 
 Des. Beshrew me, if I would do such a wrong 
 
 For the whole world. 80 
 
 Emil. Why, the wrong is but a wrong i' the world ; 
 and having the world for your labour, 'tis a 
 wrong in your own world, and you might 
 quickly make it right. 
 
 Des. I do not think there is any such woman. 
 
 Emil. Yes, a dozen ; and as many to the vantage as 
 would store the world they played for. 
 But I do think it is their husbands' faults 
 If wives do fall : say that they slack their duties 
 And pour our treasures into foreign laps, 90 
 
 Or else break out in peevish jealousies, 
 Throwing restraint upon us, or say they strike us, 
 Or scant our former having in despite, 
 Why, we have galls, and though we have some grace, 
 Yet have we some revenge. Let husbands know 
 Their wives have sense like them : they see and smell 
 
 126
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act V. Sc. i. 
 
 And have their palates both for sweet and sour, 
 As husbands have. What is it that they do 
 When they change us for others ? Is it sport ? 
 I think it is : and doth affection breed it ? 
 I think it doth : is 't frailty that thus errs ? 100 
 
 It is so too : and have not we affections, 
 Desires for sport, and frailty, as men have? 
 Then let them use us well : else let them know, 
 The ills we do, their ills instruct us so. 
 Des. Good night, good night : heaven me such uses send, 
 Not to pick bad from bad, but by bad mend ! 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 ACT FIFTH. 
 Scene I. 
 
 Cyprus. A street. 
 Enter logo and Roderigo. 
 
 logo. Here, stand behind this bulk ; straight will he come : 
 Wear thy good rapier bare, and put it home : 
 Quick, quick ; fear nothing ; I '11 be at thy elbow : 
 It makes us, or it mars us ; think on that, 
 And fix most firm thy resolution. 
 
 Rod. Be near at hand ; I may miscarry in 't. 
 
 logo. Here, at thy hand : be bold, and take thy stand. 
 
 [Retires. 
 
 Rod. I have no great devotion to the deed ; 
 
 And yet he hath given me satisfying reasons : 
 
 'Tis but a man gone. Forth, my sword : he dies. 10 
 
 lago. I have rubb'd this young quat almost to the sense, 
 And he grows angry. Now, whether he kill Cassio, 
 Or Cassio him, or each do kill the other, 
 127
 
 Act V. Sc. i. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 Every way makes my gain : live Roderigo, 
 
 He calls me to a restitution large 
 
 Of gold and jewels that I bobb'd from him, 
 
 As gifts to Desdemona : 
 
 It must not be : if Cassio do remain, 
 
 He hath a daily beauty in his life 
 
 That makes me ugly ; and besides, the Moor 20 
 
 May unfold me to him ; there stand I in much peril : 
 
 No, he must die. Be 't so. I hear him coming. 
 
 Enter Cassio. 
 
 Rod. I know his gait ; 'tis he. Villain, thou diest ! 
 
 [Makes a pass at Cassio. 
 Cas. That thrust had been mine enemy indeed, 
 
 But that my coat is better than thou know'st : 
 I will make proof of thine. 
 
 [Draws, and wounds Roderigo. 
 Rod. O, I am slain ! 
 
 [logo from behind wounds Cassio in the leg, and exit. 
 Cas. I am maim'd for ever. Help, ho ! murder ! murder ! 
 
 [Falls. 
 
 Enter Othello. 
 
 Oth. The voice of Cassio : lago keeps his word. 
 
 Rod. O, villain that I am ! 
 
 Oth. It is even so. 
 
 Cats. O, help, ho ! light ! a surgeon ! 30 
 
 Oth. 'Tis he. O brave lago, honest and just, 
 
 That hast such noble sense of thy friend's wrong ! 
 Thou teachest me. Minion, your dear lies dead, 
 And your unblest fate hies : strumpet, I corns ! 
 Forth of my heart those charms, thine eyes, are blotted : 
 Thy bed lust-stain 'd shall with lust's blood be spotted. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 128
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act V. Sc. i. 
 
 Enter Lodoi'ico and Gratiano. 
 
 Ca-s. What, ho ! no watch ? no passage ? murder ! murder ! 
 
 Gra. 'Tis some mischance; the cry is very direful. 
 
 Cas. O, help ! 
 
 Lod. Hark! 40 
 
 Rod. O wretched villain. 
 
 Lod. Two or three groan : it is a heavy night : 
 
 These may be counterfeits : let 's think 't unsafe 
 To come into the cry without more help. 
 
 Rod. Nobody come ? then shall I bleed to death. 
 
 Lod. Hark! 
 
 Re-enter logo, zvith a light. 
 
 Gra. Here's one comes in his shirt, with light and weapons. 
 
 logo. Who's there? whose noise is this that cries on murder ? 
 
 Lod. We do not know. 
 
 logo. Did not you hear a cry ? 49 
 
 Cas. Here, here! for heaven's sake, help me! 
 
 logo. What 's the matter ? 
 
 Gra. This is Othello's ancient, as I take it. 
 
 Lod. The same indeed ; a very valiant fellow. 
 
 logo. What are you here that cry so grievously? 
 
 Cas. lago? O, I am spoil'd, undone by villains! 
 
 Give me some help. 
 
 logo. O me, lieutenant ! what villains have done this ? 
 Cas. I think that one of them is here about, 
 
 And cannot make away. 
 lago. O treacherous villains? 
 
 What are you there ? come in and give some help. 
 
 [To Lodovico and Gratiano. 
 
 Rod. O, help me here ! 60 
 
 Cas. That 's one of them. 
 
 129
 
 Act V. Sc. i. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 logo. O murderous slave ! O villain ! 
 
 [Stabs Roderigo. 
 
 Rod. O damn'd lago! O inhuman dog! 
 logo. Kill men i' the dark ! Where be these bloody thieves ? 
 
 How silent is this town ! Ho ! murder ! murder ! 
 
 What may you be ? are you of good or evil ? 
 Lod. As you shall prove us, praise us. 
 lago. Signior Lodovico? 
 Lod. He, sir. 
 
 lago. I cry you mercy. Here 's Cassio hurt by villains. 
 Gra. Cassio! 70 
 
 la go. How is 't, brother ? 
 Cos. My leg is cut in two. 
 lago. Marry, heaven forbid! 
 
 Light, gentlemen : I '11 bind it with my shirt. 
 
 Enter Bianco. 
 
 Bian. What is the matter, ho? who is 't that cried? 
 
 lago. Who is 't that cried ! 
 
 Bian. O my dear Cassio! my sweet Cassio! O 
 
 Cassio, Cassio, Cassio! 
 lago. O notable strumpet ! Cassio, may you suspect 
 
 Who they should be that have thus mangled you ? 
 Cos. No. 80 
 
 Gra. I am sorry to find you thus : I have been to seek you. 
 lago. Lend me a garter. So. O, for a chair, 
 
 To bear him easily hence ! 
 
 Bian. Alas, he faints ! O Cassio, Cassio, Cassio ! 
 lago. Gentlemen all, I do suspect this trash 
 
 To be a party in this injury. 
 
 Patience awhile, good Cassio. Come, come; 
 
 Lend me a light. Know we this face or no? 
 
 130
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act V. Sc. i. 
 
 Alas, my friend and my dear countryman 
 
 Roderigo? no: yes, sure: O heaven! Roderigo. 
 Gra. What, of Venice? 91 
 
 logo. Even he, sir : did you know him ? 
 Gra. Know him! ay. 
 
 logo. Signior Gratiano ? I cry you gentle pardon ; 
 
 These bloody accidents must excuse my manners, 
 
 That so neglected you. 
 
 Gra. I am glad to see you. 
 
 logo. How do you, Cassio? O, a chair, a chair? 
 Gra. Roderigo! 
 
 la go. He, he, 'tis he. [A chair brought in.] O, that's 
 well said ; the chair : 
 
 Some good man bear him carefully from hence ; 
 
 I '11 fetch the general's surgeon. [To Bianco] For 
 you, mistress, 100 
 
 Save you your labour. He that lies slain here, Cassio, 
 
 Was my dear friend : what malice was between you ? 
 Cas. None in the world ; nor do I know the man. 
 I ago. [To Bian.] What, look you pale? O, bear him out 
 o' the air. [Cassio and Roderigo are borne off. 
 
 Stay you, good gentlemen. Look you pale, mis- 
 tress ? 
 
 Do you perceive the gastness of her eye? 
 
 Nay, if you stare, we shall hear more anon. 
 
 Behold her well ; I pray you, look upon her : 
 
 Do you see, gentlemen ? nay, guiltiness will speak, 
 
 Though tongues were out of use. no 
 
 Enter Emilia. 
 
 Emil. 'Las, what 's the matter ? what 's the matter, hus- 
 band? 
 logo. Cassio hath here been set on in the dark 
 
 131
 
 Act V. Sc. ii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 By Roderigo, and fellows that are 'scaped : 
 
 He 's almost slain, and Roderigo dead. 
 EmiL Alas, good gentleman ! alas, good Cassio ! 
 logo. This is the fruit of whoring. Prithee, Emilia, 
 
 Go know of Cassio where he supp'd to-night. 
 
 What, do you shake at that ? 
 
 Bian. He supp'd at my house ; but I therefore shake not. 
 I ago. O, did he so? I charge you, go with me. 120 
 
 EmiL Fie, fie upon thee, strumpet ! 
 Bian. I am no strumpet ; but of life as honest 
 
 As you that thus abuse me. 
 
 Etml. As I ! foh ! fie upon thee ! 
 
 logo. Kind gentlemen, let 's go see poor Cassio dress'd. 
 
 Come, mistress, you must tell 's another tale. 
 
 Emilia, run you to the citadel, 
 
 And tell my lord and lady what hath happ'd ! 
 
 Will you go on ? I pray. [Aside] This is the night 
 
 That either makes me or fordoes me quite. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 A bedchamber in the castle: Desdemona in bed 
 asleep; a light burning. 
 
 Enter Othello. 
 
 Oth. It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul : 
 
 Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars ! 
 It is the cause. Yet I '11 not shed her blood, 
 Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow 
 And smooth as monumental alabaster. 
 Yet she must die, else she '11 betray more men. 
 Put out the light, and then put out the light : 
 If I quench thee, thou flaming minister, 
 
 132
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act V. Sc. ii. 
 
 I can again thy former light restore, 
 
 Should I repent me : but once put out thy light, 10 
 
 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 
 
 the rose, 
 
 I cannot give it vital growth again, 
 It must needs wither : I '11 smell it on the tree. 
 
 [Kissing her. 
 
 Ah, balmy breath, that dost almost persuade 
 Justice to break her sword ! One more, one more : 
 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, 20 
 
 But they are cruel tears : this sorrow 's heavenly ; 
 It strikes where it doth love. She wakes. 
 
 Des. Who 's there ? Othello ? 
 
 Oth. Ay, Desdemona. 
 
 Des. Will you come to bed, my lord? 
 
 Oth. Have you pray'd to-night, Desdemona? 
 
 DCS. Ay, my lord. 
 
 Oth. If you bethink yourself of any crime 
 Unreconciled as yet to heaven and grace, 
 Solicit for it straight. 
 
 Des. Alas, my lord, what may you mean by that ? 
 
 Oth. Well, do it, and be brief ; I will walk by : 30 
 
 I would not kill thy unprepared spirit ; 
 No ; heaven forfend ! I would not kill thy soul. 
 
 Des. Talk you of killing ? 
 
 Oth. Ay, I do. 
 
 Des. Then heaven have mercy on me ! 
 
 Oth. Amen, with all my heart ! 
 
 133
 
 Act V. Sc. ii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 Des. If you say so, I hope you will not kill me. 
 
 Oth. Hum! 
 
 DCS. And yet I fear you ; for you are fatal then 
 
 When your eyes roll so : why I should fear I know not, 
 Since guiltiness I know not ; but yet I feel I fear. 
 
 Oth. Think on thy sins. 
 
 Des. They are loves I bear to you. 40 
 
 Oth. Ay, and for that thou diest. 
 
 DCS. That death 's unnatural that kills for loving. 
 Alas, why gnaw you so your nether lip ? 
 Some bloody passion shakes your very frame: 
 These are portents ; but yet I hope, I hope, 
 They do not point on me. 
 
 Oth. Peace, and be still ! 
 
 Des. I will so. What 's the matter? 
 
 Oth. That handkerchief which I so loved and gave thee 
 Thou gavest to Cassio. 
 
 Des. Xo, by my life and soul ! 49 
 
 Send for the man, and ask him. 
 
 Oth. Sweet soul, take heed, 
 
 Take heed of perjury; thou art on thy death-bed. 
 
 Des. Ay, but not yet to die. 
 
 Oth. Yes, presently : 
 
 Therefore confess thee freely of thy sin ; 
 For to deny each article with oath 
 Cannot remove nor choke the strong conception 
 That I do groan withal. Thou art to die. 
 
 Des. Then Lord have mercy on me ! 
 
 Oth. I say, amen. 
 
 Des. And have you mercy too ! I never did 
 Offend you in my life ; never loved Cassio 
 But with such general warranty of heaven 6o %
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act V. Sc. ii. 
 
 As I might love : I never gave him token. 
 Oth. By heaven, I saw my handkerchief in 's hand. 
 
 perjured woman! thou dost stone my heart, 
 And makest me call what I intend to do 
 
 A murder, which I thought a sacrifice : 
 
 1 saw the handkerchief. 
 
 Des. He found it then ; 
 
 I never gave it him : send for him hither ; 
 
 Let him confess a truth. 
 
 Oth. He hath confess'd. 
 
 Des. What, my lord? 
 Oth. That he hath used thee. 
 Des. How? unlawfully? 
 
 Oth. Ay. 70 
 
 DCS. He will not say so. 
 Oth. No, his mouth is stopp'd; 
 
 Honest lago hath ta'en order for 't. 
 Des. O, my fear interprets ! what, is he dead ? 
 Oth. Had all his hairs been lives, my great revenge 
 
 Had stomach for them all. 
 Des. Alas, he is betray 'd, and I undone ! 
 Oth. Out, strumpet ! weep'st thou for him to my face? 
 Des. O, banish me, my lord, but kill me not ! 
 Oth. Down, strumpet ! 
 
 Des. Kill me to-morrow ; let me live to-night ! 80 
 
 Oth. Nay, if you strive, 
 Des. But half an hour! 
 
 Oth. Being done, there is no pause. 
 
 Des. But while I say one prayer ! 
 
 Oth. It is too late. [He stifles her. 
 
 Emit. [Within] My lord, my lord! what, ho! my lord, 
 my lord! 
 
 135
 
 Act V. Sc. ii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 Oth. What noise is this ? Not dead ? not yet quite dead ? 
 
 I that am cruel am yet merciful; 
 
 I would not have thee linger in thy pain : 
 
 So, so. 
 
 Emil. [Within] What, ho! my lord, my lord ! 
 Oth. Who's there? 
 
 Emil. [Within] O, good my lord, I would speak a word 
 with you ! 90 
 
 Oth. Yes : 'tis Emilia. By and by. She 's dead. 
 
 'Tis like she comes to speak of Cassio's death. 
 
 The noise was here. Ha ! no more moving ? 
 
 Still as the grave. Shall she come in ? were 't good ? 
 
 I think she stirs again. No. What's best to do? 
 
 If she come in, she '11 sure speak to my wife : 
 
 My wife! my wife! what wife? I have no wife. 
 
 O, insupportable! O heavy hour! 
 
 Methinks it should be now a huge eclipse 
 
 Of sun and moon, and that the affrighted globe 100 
 
 Should yawn at alteration. 
 Emil. [ Within ] I do beseech you 
 
 That I may speak with you, O, good my lord ! 
 Oth. I had forgot thee : O, come in, Emilia. 
 
 Soft ; by and by. Let me the curtains draw. 
 
 Where art thou? [Unlocks the door. 
 
 Enter Emilia. 
 
 What 's the matter with thee now ? 
 Emil. O, my good lord, yonder 's foul murders done ! 
 Oth. What, now? 
 Emil. But now, my lord. 
 Oth. It is the very error of the moon ; 
 
 She comes more nearer earth than she was wont 
 
 136
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act V. Sc. ii. 
 
 And makes men mad. in 
 
 Emit. Cassio, my lord, hath kill'd a young Venetian 
 
 Call'd Roderigo. 
 Oth. Roderigo kill'd ! 
 
 And Cassio kill'd! 
 
 Emil. No, Cassio is not kill'd. 
 
 Oth. Not Cassio kill'd ! then murder 's out of tune, 
 
 And sweet revenge grows harsh. 
 DCS. O, falsely, falsely murder'd! 
 
 Emil. Alas, what cry is that? 
 
 Oth. That! what? 
 Emil. Out, and alas ! that was my lady's voice. 
 
 Help! help, ho! help! O lady, speak again ! 120 
 
 Sweet Desdemona! O sweet mistress, speak! 
 Des. A guiltless death I die. 
 Emil. O, who hath done this deed ? 
 Des. Nobody ; I myself. Farewell : 
 
 Commend me to my kind lord : O, farewell ! [Dies. 
 Oth. Why, how should she be murder'd? 
 Emil. Alas, who knows? 
 
 Oth. You heard her say herself, It was not I. 
 Emil. She said so : I must needs report the truth. 
 Oth. She 's like a liar gone to burning hell : 
 
 'Twas I that kill'd her. 
 Emil. O, the more angel she, 130 
 
 And you the blacker devil ! 
 Oth. She turn'd to folly, and she was a whore. 
 Emil. Thou dost belie her, and thou art a devil. 
 Oth. She was false as water. 
 Emil. Thou art rash as fire, to say 
 
 That she was false : O, she was heavenly true ! 
 Oth. Cassio did top her ; ask thy husband else. 
 
 137
 
 Act V. Sc. ii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 O, I were damn'd beneath all depth in hell, 
 
 But that I did proceed upon just grounds 
 
 To this extremity. Thy husband knew it all. 
 Emit. My husband ! 140 
 
 Otli. Thy husband. 
 Emil. That she was false to wedlock? 
 Oth. Ay, with Cassio. Nay, had she been true, 
 
 If heaven would make me such another world 
 
 Of one entire and perfect chrysolite, 
 
 I 'Id not have sold her for it. 
 Emil. My husband! 
 Oth. Ay, 'twas he that told me first : 
 
 An honest man he is, and hates the slime 
 
 That sticks on filthy deeds. 
 
 Emil. My husband ! 149 
 
 Oth. What needs this iteration, woman ? I say thy husband. 
 Emil. O mistress, villany hath made mocks with love ! 
 
 My husband say that she was false ! 
 Oth. He, woman ; 
 
 I say thy husband: dost understand the word? 
 
 My friend, thy husband, honest, honest lago. 
 Emil. If he say so, may his pernicious soul 
 
 Rot half a grain a day ! he lies to the heart : 
 
 She was too fond of her most filthy bargain. 
 
 Oth. Ha! 
 
 Emil. Do thy worst : 
 
 This deed of thine is no more worthy heaven 160 
 
 Than thou wast worthy her. 
 
 Oth. Peace, you were best. 
 
 Emil. Thou hast not half that power to do me harm 
 
 As I have to be hurt. O gull ! O dolt ! 
 
 As ignorant as dirt ! thou hast done a deed 
 
 138
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act V. Sc. ii. 
 
 I care not for thy sword ; I '11 make thee known, 
 Though I lost twenty lives. Help ! help, ho ! help ! 
 The Moor hath kill'd my mistress ! Murder ! murder ! 
 
 Enter Montana, Gratiano, lago, and others. 
 
 Mon. What is the matter ? How now, general ! 
 Emil. O, are you come, lago? you have done well, 
 
 That men must lay their murders on your neck. 170 
 Gra. What is the matter? 
 Emil. Disprove this villain, if thou be' st a man : 
 
 He says thou told'st him that his wife was false : 
 
 I know thou didst not, thou 'rt not such a villain. 
 
 Speak, for my heart is full. 
 lago. I told him what I thought, and told no more 
 
 Than what he found himself was apt and true. 
 Emil. But did you ever tell him she was false ? 
 lago. I did. 
 Emil. You told a lie, an odious, damned lie; 180 
 
 Upon my soul, a lie, a wicked lie ! 
 
 She false with Cassio ! Did you say with Cassio? 
 lago. With Cassio, mistress. Go to, charm your tongue. 
 Emil. I will not charm my tongue ; I am bound to speak : 
 
 My mistress here lies murder'd in her bed, 
 All. O heavens forfend ! 
 
 Emil. And your reports have set the murder on. 
 Oth. Nay, stare not, masters : it is true indeed. 
 Gra. 'Tis a strange truth. 
 Mon. O monstrous act ! 
 Emil. Villany, villany, villany! 190 
 
 I think upon 't : I think : I smell 't : O villany ! 
 
 I thought so then : I '11 kill myself for grief : 
 
 O villany, villany !
 
 Act V. Sc. ii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 logo. What, are you mad ? I charge you, get you home. 
 
 Emit. Good gentlemen, let me have leave to speak : 
 'Tis proper I obey him, but not now. 
 Perchance, lago, I will ne'er go home. 
 
 Oth.Ol O! O! [Falling on the bed. 
 
 Emil. Nay, lay thee down and roar ; 
 
 For thou hast kill'd the sweetest innocent 
 That e'er did lift up eye. 
 
 Oth. [Rising] O, she was foul ! 200 
 
 I scarce did know you, uncle : there lies your niece, 
 Whose breath indeed these hands have newly stopp'd : 
 I know this act shows horrible and grim. 
 
 Gra. Poor Desdemona ! I am glad thy father 's dead : 
 Thy match was mortal to him, and pure grief 
 Shore his old thread in twain : did he live now, 
 This sight would make him do a desperate turn, 
 Yea, curse his better angel from his side, 
 And fall to reprobation. 
 
 Oth. 'Tis pitiful ; but yet lago knows 210 
 
 That she with Cassio hath the act of shame 
 A thousand times committed ; Cassio confess'd it : 
 And she did gratify his amorous works 
 With that recognizance and pledge of love 
 Which I first gave her ; I saw it in his hand : 
 It was a handkerchief, an antique token 
 My father gave my mother. 
 
 Emit. O heaven ! O heavenly powers ! 
 
 lago. 'Zounds ! hold your peace. 
 
 Emil. 'Twill out, 'twill out. I peace ! 
 
 No, I will speak as liberal as the north : 220 
 
 Let heaven and men and devils, let them all, 
 All,- all, cry shame against me, yet I '11 speak. 
 140
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act V. Sc. ii. 
 
 logo. Be wise, and get you home. 
 
 Emil. I will not. 
 
 [I ago offers to stab Emilia. 
 Gra. Fie ! 
 
 Your sword upon a woman ! 
 
 Emil. O thou dull Moor ! that handkerchief thou speak'st 
 of 
 
 I found by fortune and did give my husband ; 
 
 For often with a solemn earnestness, 
 
 More than indeed belong'd to such a trifle, 
 
 He begg'd of me to steal it. 
 
 logo. Villanous whore! 
 
 Emil. She give it Cassio ! no, alas, I found it, 230 
 
 And I did give 't my husband. 
 logo. Filth, thou liest ! 
 
 Emil. By heaven, I do not, I do not, gentlemen. 
 
 O murderous coxcomb ! what should such a fool 
 
 Do with so good a wife ? 
 Oth. Are there no stones in heaven 
 
 But what serve for the thunder ? Precious villain ! 
 [He runs at logo: logo, from behind, 
 stabs Emilia, and exit. 
 
 Gra. The woman falls ; sure, he hath kill'd his wife. 
 Emil. Ay, ay : O, lay me by my mistress' side. 
 Gra. He 's gone, but his wife 's kill'd. 
 Mon. Tis a notorious villain. Take you this weapon, 
 
 Which I have here recover'd from the Moor : 240 
 
 Come, guard the door without ; let him not pass, 
 
 But kill him rather. I '11 after that same villain, 
 
 For 'tis a damned slave. 
 
 [Exeunt all but Othello and Emilia. 
 Oth. I am not valiant neither, 
 
 141
 
 Act V. Sc. ii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO. 
 
 But every puny whipster gets my sword. 
 
 But why should honour outlive honesty? 
 
 Let it go all. 
 Emil. What did thy song bode, lady ? 
 
 Hark, canst thou hear me ? I will play the swan, 
 
 And die in music. [Singing] Willow, willow, willow. 
 
 Moor, she was chaste ; she loved thee, cruel Moor ; 
 
 So come my soul to bliss, as I speak true ; 250 
 
 So speaking as I think, I die, I die. [Dies. 
 
 Oth. I have another weapon in this chamber ; 
 
 It is a sword of Spain, the ice-brook's temper. 
 
 O, here it is. Uncle, I must come forth. 
 Gra. [Within] If thou attempt it, it will cost thee dear: 
 
 Thou hast no weapon, and perforce must suffer. 
 Oth. Look in upon me then, and speak with me, 
 
 Or, naked as I am, I will assault thee. 
 
 Re-enter Gratiano. 
 
 Gra. What is the matter? 
 
 Oth. Behold, I have a weapon ; 
 
 A better never did itself sustain 260 
 
 Upon a soldier's thigh : I have seen the day 
 
 That with this little arm and this good sword 
 
 I have made my way through more impediments 
 
 Than twenty times your stop : but, O vain boast ! 
 
 Who can control his fate ? 'tis not so now. 
 
 Be not afraid, though you do see me weapon'd ; 
 
 Here is my journey's end, here is my butt 
 
 And very sea-mark of my utmost sail. 
 
 Do you go back dismay'd ? 'tis a lost fear : 
 
 Man but a rush against Othello's breast, 270 
 
 And he retires. Where should Othello go? 
 
 142
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act V. Sc. ii. 
 
 Now, how dost thou look now ? O ill-starr'd wench ! 
 
 Pale as thy smock ! when we shall meet at compt, 
 
 This look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven, 
 
 And fiends will snatch at it. Cold, cold, my girl ! 
 
 Even like thy chastity. O cursed slave ! 
 
 Whip me, ye devils, 
 
 From the possession of this heavenly sight ! 
 
 Blow me about in winds ! roast me in sulphur ! 
 
 Wash me in steep-down gulfs of liquid fire ! 280 
 
 O Desdemona ! Desdemona ! dead ! 
 
 Oh! Oh! Oh! 
 
 Enter Lodovico, Montana, Cassio carried in a chair, 
 and Officers, zvith lago., prisoner. 
 
 Lod. Where is this rash and most unfortunate man ? 
 Oth. That 's he that was Othello : here I am. 
 Lod. Where is that viper ? bring the villain forth. 
 Oth. I look down towards his feet ; but that 's a fable. 
 
 If that thou be'st a devil, I cannot kill thee. 
 
 [Wounds lago. 
 
 Lod. Wrench his sword from him. 
 
 lago. 1 bleed, sir, but not kill'd. 
 
 Oth. I am not sorry neither : I 'Id have thee live ; 
 
 For, in my sense, 'tis happiness to die. 290 
 
 Lod. O thou Othello, that wert once so good, 
 
 Fall'n in the practice of a damned slave, 
 
 What shall be said to thee ? 
 Oth. Why, any thing: 
 
 An honourable murderer, if you will ; 
 
 For nought did I in hate, but all in honour. 
 Lod. This wretch hath part confess'd his villany: 
 
 Did you and he consent in Cassio's death ? 
 
 143
 
 Act V. Sc. ii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 Oth. Ay. 
 
 Cas. Dear general, I never gave you cause. 
 
 Oth. I do believe it, and I ask your pardon. 300 
 
 Will you, I pray, demand that demi-devil 
 
 Why he hath thus ensnared my soul and body ? 
 I ago. Demand me nothing ; what you know, you know : 
 
 From this time forth I never will speak word. 
 Lod. What, not to pray ? 
 
 Gra. Torments will ope your lips. 
 
 Oth. Well, thou dost best. 
 Lod. Sir, you shall understand what hath befall'n, 
 
 Which, as I think, you know not. Here is a letter 
 
 Found in the pocket of the slain Roderigo, 
 
 And here another : the one of them imports 310 
 
 The death of Cassio to be undertook 
 
 By Roderigo. 
 Oth. O villain ! 
 
 Cas. Most heathenish and most gross ! 
 
 Lod. Now here 's another discontented paper, 
 
 Found in his pocket too ; and this, it seems, 
 
 Roderigo meant to have sent this damned villain ; 
 
 But that, belike, lago in the interim 
 
 Came in and satisfied him. 
 Oth. O the pernicious caitiff! 
 
 How came you, Cassio, by that handkerchief 
 
 That was my wife's? 
 Cas. I found it in my chamber : 320 
 
 And he himself confess'd but even now 
 
 That there he dropp'd it for a special purpose 
 
 Which wrought to his desire. 
 
 Oth. O fool ! fool ! fool ! 
 
 Cas. There is besides in Roderigo's letter. 
 
 144
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Act V. Sc. ii. 
 
 How he upbraids lago, that he made him 
 Brave me upon the watch ; whereon it came 
 That I was cast : and even but now he spake 
 After long seeming dead, lago hurt him, 
 lago set him on. 
 
 Lod. You must forsake this room, and go with us : 330 
 Your power and your command is taken off, 
 And Cassio rules in Cyprus. For this slave, 
 If there be any cunning cruelty 
 That can torment him much and hold him long, 
 It shall be his. You shall close prisoner rest, 
 Till that the nature of your fault be known 
 To the Venetian state. Come, bring away. 
 
 Oth. Soft you ; a word or two before you go. 
 
 I have done the state some service, and they know 't. 
 
 No more of that. I pray you, in your letters, 340 
 
 When you shall these unlucky deeds relate, 
 
 Speak of me as I am ; nothing extenuate, 
 
 Nor set down aught in malice: then must you speak 
 
 Of one that loved not wisely but too well ; 
 
 Of one not easily jealous, but, being wrought, 
 
 Perplex'd in the extreme ; of one whose hand, 
 
 Like the base Indian, threw a pearl away 
 
 Richer than all his- tribe ; of one whose subdued eyes, 
 
 Albeit unused to the melting mood, 
 
 Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees 350 
 
 Their medicinal gum. Set you down this ; 
 
 And say besides, that in Aleppo once, 
 
 Where a malignant and a turban'd Turk 
 
 Beat a Venetian and traduced the state, 
 
 I took by the throat the circumcised dog 
 
 And smote him, thus. [Stabs himself. 
 
 MS
 
 Act V. Sc. ii. TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 Lod. O bloody period ! 
 
 Gra. All that 's spoke is marr'd. 
 
 th. I kiss'd thee ere I kill'd thee : no way but this, 
 Killing myself, to die upon a kiss. 
 
 [Falls on the bed, and dies. 
 
 Cos. This did I fear, but thought he had no weapon ; 360 
 For he was great of heart. 
 
 Lod. [To logo] O Spartan dog, 
 
 More fell than anguish, hunger, or the sea ! 
 Look on the tragic loading of this bed ; 
 This is thy work : the object poisons sight ; 
 Let it be hid. Gratiano, keep the house, 
 And seize upon the fortunes of the Moor, 
 For they succeed on you. To you, lord governor, 
 Remains the censure of this hellish villain, 
 The time, the place, the torture : O, enforce it ! 
 Myself will straight aboard, and to the state 370 
 This heavy act with heavy heart relate. [Exeunt. 
 
 14.6
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE 
 
 Glossary. 
 
 Abhor; " it doth a. me," it is 
 abhorrent to me ; IV. ii. 162. 
 
 About, out ; I. ii. 46. 
 
 Abuse, deceive; I. iii. 401. 
 
 Abused, deceived; I. i. 1/4. 
 
 Abuser, corrupter ; I. ii. 78. 
 
 Achieved, won; II. i. 61. 
 
 Acknoum on 't, confess any 
 knowledge of it; III. iii. 319. 
 
 Act, action, working; III. iii. 
 328. 
 
 Action, accusation ; I. iii. 70. 
 
 Addiction, inclination; II. ii. 6. 
 
 Addition, honour; III. iv'. 194. 
 
 Advantage; " in the best a.," 
 at the most favourable op- 
 portunity ; I. iii 298. 
 
 Advised, careful ; I. ii. 55. 
 
 Advocation, advocacy; III. iv. 
 123. 
 
 Affined, bound by any tie ; I. i. 
 
 39- 
 
 AfKnity, connexions; III. i. 49. 
 Agnizc, confess with pride; I. 
 
 iii. 232. 
 
 Aim, conjecture ; I. iii. 6. 
 All in all, wholly, altogether; 
 
 IV. i. 89. 
 Allowance; "and your a.." and 
 
 has your permission ; I. i. 128. 
 Allowed, acknowledged; I. iii. 
 
 224. 
 
 All 's one, very well ; IV. iii. 23. 
 Almain, German ; II. iii. 86. 
 Ancient, ensign (Folio i, 
 
 " Auntient ") ; I. i. 33. 
 
 Antliropophagi, cannibals 
 (Quartos. "Anthropo- 
 phagie"; Folio i, " Antropo- 
 phague ") ; I. iii. 144. For 
 ' men whose lieads do grow 
 beneath their shoulders.' Cp. 
 illustration. 
 
 From Kuchlein's illustrations of the 
 Tourney held at Stuttgart, 1609. 
 
 A litres, caverns; I. iii. 140. 
 Apart, aside ; II. iii. 391. 
 Approve, prove, justify; II. iii. 
 
 64. 
 
 , love, adore ; IV. iii. 19. 
 
 Approved, proved to have been 
 
 involved; II. iii. 211. 
 Apt, natural ; II. i. 295. 
 Arraigning, accusing; III. iv. 
 
 152.. 
 Arrivance, arrival (Folios,"Ar- 
 
 rivancy" or "Arrivancie") ; 
 
 II. i. 42. 
 
 147
 
 Glossary 
 
 TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 As, as if: III. iii. 77. 
 
 Aspics, venomous snakes; III. 
 
 iii. 450. 
 Assay, a test : I. iii. 18. 
 
 , try; II. i. 121. 
 
 Assure thee, be assured; III. 
 
 iii. 20. 
 
 At, on ; I. ii. 42. 
 Atone, reconcile; IV. i. 236. 
 Attach, arrest; I. ii. 77. 
 Attend, await; III. iii. 281. 
 
 Bauble, fool (used contemptu- 
 ously) ; IV. i. 137. 
 
 Bear, the Constellation so 
 called ; II. i. 14. 
 
 Bear out, get the better of; II. 
 i. 19. 
 
 Beer; " small beer," small ac- 
 counts, trifles ; II. i. 161. 
 
 Be-iee'd, placed on the lee 
 (Quarto i, "be led"); I. i. 
 30. 
 
 Beslirezv me, a mild assevera- 
 tion; III. iv. 150. 
 
 Besort, what is becoming; I. iii. 
 239- 
 
 Best; " were b.," had better ; I. 
 ii. 30. 
 
 Bestow, place; III. i. 56. 
 
 Betimes, early ; I. iii. 383. 
 
 Bid " good morrow," alluding 
 to the custom of friends bid- 
 ding good-morrow by sere- 
 nading a newly married 
 couple on the morning after 
 their marriage; III. i. 2. 
 
 Birdlime, lime to catch birds ; 
 II. i. 127. 
 
 Black, opposed to " fair " ; III. 
 iii. 263. 
 
 Blank, the white mark in the 
 centre of the butt, the aim ; 
 
 III. iv. 128. 
 
 Blazoning, praising; II. i. 63. 
 Blood, anger, passion ; II. iii. 
 
 205. 
 Bloum, empty, puffed out ; III. 
 
 iii. 182.. 
 
 Bobb'd, got cunningly ; V. i. 16. 
 Boding, foreboding, ominous ; 
 
 IV. i. 22. 
 
 Bootless, profitless ; I. iii. 209. 
 
 Brace, state of defence (prop- 
 erly, armour to protect the 
 arm) ; I. iii. 24. 
 
 Brave, defy; V. ii.326. 
 
 Bravery, bravado, defiance; I. 
 i. 100. 
 
 Bring on the zi'ay, accompany : 
 III. iv. 197. 
 
 Bulk, the projecting part of a 
 shop on which goods were 
 exposed for sale; V. i. I. 
 
 Butt, goal, limit ; V. ii. 267. 
 
 By, aside ; V. ii. 30. 
 
 , " how you say by," what 
 
 say you to; I. iii. 17. 
 
 By and by, presently; II. iii. 
 309- 
 
 Cable; " give him c.," give him 
 scope ; I. ii. 17. 
 
 Caitiff, thing, wretch ; a term 
 of endearment : IV. i. 109. 
 
 Collet, a low woman ; IV. ii. 
 121. 
 
 Calm'd, becalmed, kept from 
 motion : I. i. 30. 
 
 Canakin, little can; II. iii. 71. 
 
 Cannibals; I. iii. 143. Cp. il- 
 lustration. 
 
 Capable, ample: III. iii. 459. 
 
 148
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE 
 
 Glossary 
 
 From a rare old broadside depicting 
 the habits of the aboriginal Mexicans. 
 
 Carack, large ship, galleon ; I. 
 
 ii. 50. 
 
 Caroused, drunk; II. iii. 55. 
 Carve for, indulge (Quarto i. 
 
 " carve forth ") ; II. iii. 173. 
 Case, matter (Folios. 
 
 " cause ") ; III. iii. 4. 
 Cast, dismissed, degraded from 
 
 office ; V. ii. 327. 
 Censure, judgement ; II. iii. 193. 
 
 , opinion ; IV. i. 273. 
 Ccrtcs, certainly ; I. i. 16. 
 Cliair; " a chair, to bear him 
 
 easily hence " ; V. i. 82. Cp. 
 
 illustration. 
 
 From a plate in Sandv's Travels (1621 >. 
 depicting a sick person carried to 
 the sulphur-baths at Pozzuoli, near 
 Naples. 
 
 Challenge, claim : I. iii. 188. 
 
 Chambercrs. effeminate men ; 
 III. iii. 265. 
 
 Chances, events ; I. iii. 134. 
 
 Charm, make silent, restrain; 
 V. ii. 183. 
 
 Charmer, enchantress, sorcer- 
 ess ; III. iv. 57. 
 
 Chcrubin, cherub; IV. ii. 62. 
 
 Chidden, chiding, making an 
 incessant noise ; II. i. 12. 
 
 Chide, quarrel : IV. ii. 167. 
 
 Chuck, a term of endearment ; 
 
 III. iv. 49. 
 Circumscription, restraint ; I. 
 
 ii. 27. 
 Circumstance, circumlocution ; 
 
 I- i- 13- 
 
 , appurtenances; III. iii. 
 
 354- 
 Circumstanced, give way to 
 
 circumstances ; III. iv. 201. 
 Civil, civilised; IV. i. 65. 
 Clean, entirely, altogether; I. 
 
 iii. 366. 
 
 Clime, country; III. iii. 230. 
 Clip, embrace ; III. iii. 464. 
 Clog, encumber (Folios i, 2, 3, 
 
 " encloggc ") : II. i. 70. 
 Close, secret ; III. iii. 123. 
 Close as oak = " close as the 
 
 grain of oak"; III. iii. 210. 
 Clyster-pipes, tubes used for 
 
 injection; II. i. 179. 
 Coat, coat of mail ; V. i. 25. 
 Cogging, deceiving by lying ; 
 
 IV. ii. 132. 
 
 C allied , blackened, darkened ; 
 II. iii. 204. 
 
 Coloquintida. colocynth, or bit- 
 ter apple ; I. iii. 355. 
 
 Commoner, harlot; IV. ii. 72. 
 
 140
 
 Glossary 
 
 TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 Companions, fellows (used 
 contemptuously) ; IV. ii. 141. 
 
 Compasses, annual circuits ; 
 lll.iv.7i. 
 
 Compliment extern, external 
 show : I. i. 63. 
 
 Composition, consistency ; I. 
 iii. I. 
 
 Compt, reckoning, day of reck- 
 oning ; V. ii. 273. 
 
 Conceit, idea; thought (Quarto 
 r, " counsell ") ; III. iii. 115. 
 
 Conceits, conceives, judges; 
 III. iii. 149. 
 
 Condition, temper, disposition ; 
 II. i. 255- 
 
 Confine, limit ; I. ii. 27. 
 
 Conjunctive, closely united 
 (Quarto i, " communica- 
 tiue " ; Quarto 2, " conjec- 
 tiue ") ; I. iii. 375. 
 
 Conjured, charmed by incanta- 
 tions ; I. iii. 105. 
 
 Conscionable, conscientious; 
 II. i. 242. 
 
 Consent in, plan together; V. 
 ii. 297. 
 
 Consequence, that which fol- 
 lows or results ; II. iii. 64. 
 
 Conserved, preserved (Quarto 
 i, " conserues " ; Quarto 2, 
 " concerue ") ; III. iv. 75. 
 
 Consuls, senators (Theobald. 
 " Couns'lers " ; H a n m e r, 
 " counsel") ; I. ii. 43. 
 
 Content, joy; II. i. 185. 
 
 , satisfy, reward ; III. i. i. 
 
 Content you, be satisfied, be 
 easy; I. i. 41. 
 
 Continuate, continual, uninter- 
 rupted (Quarto I, " conucn- 
 icnt") ; III. iv. 178. 
 
 Contrived, plotted, deliberate ; 
 I-ii.3- 
 
 Conveniences, comforts ; II. i. 
 234- 
 
 Convcrsc, conversation; III. i. 
 40. 
 
 Cope, meet ; IV. i. 87. 
 
 Corrigible, corrective; I. iii. 
 329- 
 
 Counsellor, prater (Theobald, 
 " censurer") ; II. i. 165. 
 
 C o u n t c r-caster, accountant 
 (used contemptuously) ; I. i. 
 3i. 
 
 Course, proceeding (Quarto I, 
 " cause ") ; II. i. 275. 
 
 , run (Quarto i, " make ") ; 
 
 in.iy.7i. 
 
 Court and guard of safety, 
 " very spot and guarding 
 place of safety " (Theobald, 
 " court of guard and safe- 
 ty") ; II. iii. 216. 
 
 Court of guard, the main 
 guardhouse ; II. i. 220. 
 
 Courtship, civility, elegance of 
 manners (Quarto i, " courte- 
 sies") ; II. i. 171. 
 
 Coxcomb, fool ; V. ii. 233. 
 
 Cozening, cheating ; IV. ii. 132. 
 
 Crack, breach ; II. iii. 330. 
 
 Creation, nature ; II. i. 64. 
 
 Cries on, cries out (Folios 2,3, 
 4, " cries out ") ; V. i. 48. 
 
 Critical, censorious; II. i. 120. 
 
 Crusadocs. Portuguese gold 
 coins ; so called from the 
 cross on them (worth be- 
 tween six and seven shil- 
 lings) ; III. iv. 26. Cp. illus- 
 tration. 
 
 ISO
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE 
 
 Glossary 
 
 From an engraving by Fairho.t. 
 
 Cry, pack of hounds; II. iii. 
 
 370. 
 Cunning, knowledge ; III. iii. 
 
 49- 
 
 Curled, having hair formed into 
 ringlets, hence affected, fop- 
 pish ; I. ii. 68. 
 
 Customer, harlot; IV. i. 112. 
 
 Daffct, dost put off (Collier, 
 " d aff ' s t" ; Quartos, 
 " dofftst " ; Folio i," dafts ") : 
 IV. ii. 175- 
 
 Danger; " hurt to danger," 
 dangerously hurt, wounded : 
 II. iii. 197. 
 
 Darlings, favourites ; I. ii. 68. 
 
 Daws, jack-daws ; I. i. 65. 
 
 Dear, deeply felt ; I. iii. 260. 
 
 Dearest, most zealous ; I. iii. 85. 
 
 Debitor and creditor, " the title 
 of certain ancient treatises on 
 book-keeping here used as a 
 nick-name" (Clarke); I. i. 
 
 3i. 
 Defeat, destroy ; IV. ii. 160. 
 
 , disfigure ; I. iii. 346. 
 
 Defend, forbid; I. iii. 267. 
 Delations, accusations; III. iii. 
 
 123. 
 
 Delighted, delightful; I. iii. 290. 
 Deliver, say, relate; II. iii. 217. 
 Demand, ask; V. ii. 301. 
 Demerits, merits ; I. ii. 22. 
 
 Demonstrable, " made d.," 
 demonstrated, revealed; III. 
 iv. 142. 
 
 Denotement, denoting; II. iii. 
 
 323- 
 Deputing, substituting; IV. i. 
 
 248. 
 
 Designment, design ; II. i. 22. 
 Desired; " well d.," well loved, 
 
 a favourite ; II. i. 206. 
 Despite, contempt, aversion ; 
 
 IV. ii. 116. 
 Determinate, decisive ; IV. ii. 
 
 232. 
 Devesting, divesting; II. iii. 
 
 179- 
 
 Diablo, the Devil ; II. iii. 161. 
 
 Diet, feed; II. i. 302. 
 
 Dilate, relate in detail, at 
 length; I. iii. 153. 
 
 Directly, in a direct straightfor- 
 ward way ; IV. ii. 210. 
 
 Discontented, full of dissatis- 
 faction ; V. ii. 314. 
 
 Discourse of thought, faculty of 
 thinking, range of thought ; 
 IV. ii. 153- 
 
 Dislikes, displeases ; II. iii. 49. 
 
 Displeasure; " your d.," the 
 disfavour you have incurred ; 
 III. i. 45. 
 
 Disports, sports, pastimes; I. 
 iii. 272. 
 
 Dispose, disposition ; I. iii. 403. 
 
 Disprove, refute; V. ii. 172. 
 
 Disputed on, argued, investi- 
 gated; I. ii. 75. 
 
 Distaste, be distasteful; III. iii. 
 
 327- 
 
 Division, arrangement ; I. i. 23. 
 Do, act ; I. iii. 395. 
 Dotage, affection for; IV. 1.27.
 
 Glossary 
 
 TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 Double, of two-fold influence ; 
 I. ii. 14. 
 
 Double set, go twice round; II. 
 iii. 135- 
 
 Doubt, suspicion; III. iii. 188. 
 , fear; III. iii. 19. 
 
 Dream, expectation, anticipa- 
 tion; II. iii. 64. 
 
 Ecstacy, swoon ; IV. i. 80. 
 Elements, a pure extract, the 
 
 quintessence ; II. iii. 59. 
 Embay 'd, land-locked; II. i. 
 
 18. 
 Encave, hide, conceal ; IV. i. 
 
 82. 
 Enchafed, chafed, angry; II. i. 
 
 17- 
 
 Engage, pledge; III. iii. 462. 
 Engines, devices, contrivances. 
 
 (?) instruments of torture; 
 
 IV. ii. 219. 
 
 Engluts, engulfs, swallows up; 
 I. iii. 57- 
 
 Enshelter'd, sheltered ; II. i. 18. 
 
 Enstcep'd, steeped, lying con- 
 cealed under water (Quarto 
 i, " enscerped ") ; II. i. 70. 
 
 Entertainment, re-engagement 
 in the service ; III. iii. 250. 
 
 Enwheel, encompass, surround ; 
 II.i.87. 
 
 Equinox, counterpart; II. iii. 
 129. 
 
 Erring, wandering ; III. iii. 227. 
 
 Error, deviation, irregularity ; 
 
 V. ii. 109. 
 
 Escape, escapade, wanton 
 
 freak ; I. iii. 197. 
 Essential, real; II. i. 64. 
 Estimation, reputation ; I. iii. 
 
 275- 
 
 Eternal, damned (used to ex- 
 press abhorrence) ; IV. ii. 
 130. 
 
 Ever-fixed, fixed for ever 
 (Quartos, " ever-fired") ; II. 
 
 1. IS- 
 
 Execute, to wreak anger ; II. 
 iii. 228. 
 
 Execution, working; III. iii. 
 466. . 
 
 Exercise, religious exercise ; 
 III.iv.4i. 
 
 Exhibition, allowance; I. iii. 
 238. 
 
 Expert, experienced; II. iii. 82. 
 
 Expert and approved alloiv- 
 ance, acknowledged and 
 proved ability ; II. i. 49. 
 
 Exsufflicate, inflated, unsub- 
 stantial ; (Quartos, Folios i, 
 
 2, 3, " exuMicate " ; Folio 4. 
 " exsufdicatcd ") ; III. iii. 
 182. 
 
 Extern, eternal ; I. i. 63. 
 
 Extincted, extinct (Folios 3.4, 
 " extinct est " ; Rowe, " ex- 
 tinguished") ; II. i. 81. 
 
 Extravagant, vagrant, wander- 
 ing; Li. 137. 
 
 Facile, easy ; I. iii. 23. 
 Falls, lets fall ; IV. i. 248. 
 Fantasy, fancy; III. iii. 299. 
 Fashion, conventional custom; 
 
 II. i. 208. 
 Fast, faithfully devoted; I. iii. 
 
 369- 
 Fathom, reach, capacity; I. i. 
 
 153- 
 
 Favour, countenance, appear- 
 ance ; III. iv. 125. 
 
 Fearful, full of fear; I. iii. 12. 
 
 152
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE 
 
 Glossary 
 
 Fell, cruel ; V. ii. 362. 
 
 Filches, pilfers, steals ; III. iii. 
 
 159- 
 
 Filth, used contemptuously; V. 
 ii. 231. 
 
 Fineless, without limit, bound- 
 less; III. iii. 173. 
 
 Fitclicu', pole-cat (used con- 
 temptuously) ; IV. i. 150. 
 
 Fits, befits: Ill.iv. 150. 
 
 Fleers, sneers ; IV. i. 83. 
 
 Flood, sea ; I. iii. 135. 
 
 Flood-gate, rushing, impetu- 
 ous ; I. iii. 56. 
 
 Folly, unchastity; V. ii. 132. 
 
 Fond, foolish ; I. iii. 320. 
 
 Fopped. befooled, duped : IV. ii. 
 
 195- 
 For, because (Folios, 
 
 "when ") ; I. iii. 269. 
 Forbear, spare; I. ii. 10. 
 Fordoes, destroys ; V. i. 129. 
 Forfend, forbid ; V. ii. 32. 
 Forgot; " are thus f.." have so 
 
 forgotten yourself ; II. iii. 188. 
 Forms and visages, external 
 
 show, outward appearance ; 
 
 1. i. 50. 
 
 Forth of, forth from, out of 
 (Folio i, "For of"; Folios 
 
 2, 3, 4. " For off") : V. i. 35. 
 Fortitude, strength; I. iii. 222. 
 Fortune, chance, accident ; V. 
 
 ii. 226. 
 Framed, moulded, formed ; I. 
 
 iii. 404. 
 Fraught, freight, burden; III. 
 
 iii. 449. 
 Free, innocent, free from guilt ; 
 
 III. iii. 255. 
 
 , liberal ; I. iii. 266. 
 
 Frights, terrifies; II. iii. 175. 
 
 Prise, a kind of coarse woollen 
 stuff; II. i. 127. 
 
 From, contrary to ; I. i. 132. 
 
 Fruitful, generous ; II. iii. 347. 
 
 Full, perfect ; II. i. 36. 
 
 Function, exercise of the facul- 
 ties ; II. iii. 354. 
 
 Fustian; "discourse f.," talk 
 rubbish ; II. iii. 282. 
 
 Galls, rancour, bitterness of 
 
 mind; IV. iii. 93. 
 Garb, fashion, manner; II. i. 
 
 314- 
 
 Garner 1 'd, treasured ; IV. ii. 57. 
 
 Cashless, ghastliness (Quar- 
 tos i, 2. " ieastures" ', Quar- 
 to 3, "jestures"; Quarto 
 1687. " gestures " ; Knight, 
 "ghastness") ; V. i. 106. 
 
 Gender, kind, sort : I. iii. 326. 
 
 Generous, noble; III. iii. 280. 
 
 Give arvay, give up ; III. iii. 28. 
 
 Gcrvernmcnt, self-control ; III. 
 iii. 256. 
 
 Gradation, order of promotion ; 
 I. i. 37- 
 
 Grange, a solitary farm-house ; 
 I. i. 106. 
 
 Green, raw, inexperienced; II. 
 i. 251. 
 
 Grise, step ; I. iii. 200. 
 
 Gross in sense, palpable to rea- 
 son ; I. ii. 72. 
 
 Guardage, guardianship ; I. ii. 
 70. 
 
 Guards, guardians (" alluding 
 to the star Arctophylax," 
 Johnson) ; II. i. 15. 
 
 Guinea-hen, a term of con- 
 tempt for a woman ; I. iii. 
 317. 
 
 153
 
 Glossary 
 
 TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 Gyve, fetter, ensnare ; II. i. 171. 
 
 Habits, appearances, outward 
 
 show ; I. iii. 108. 
 Haggard, an untrained wild 
 
 hawk; III. iii. 260. 
 Hales, hauls, draws: IV. i. 141. 
 Haply, perhaps; II. i. 279. 
 Happ'd, happened, occurred ; 
 
 V. i. 127. 
 Happiness, good luck ; III. iv. 
 
 108. 
 Happy; " in h. time." at the 
 
 right moment; III. i. 32. 
 Hard at hand, close at hand 
 
 (Quartos, " hand at hand") ; 
 
 II. i. 268. 
 
 Hardness, hardship; I. iii. 234. 
 
 Hast-posthaste, very great 
 haste ; I. ii. 37. 
 
 Have with you, I '11 go with 
 you; I. ii. 53. 
 
 Having, allowance (?) "pin- 
 money " ; IV. iii. 92. 
 
 Hearted, seated in the heart; 
 
 III. iii. 448. 
 Heavy, sad ; V. ii. 371. 
 
 ; " a h. night," a thick 
 
 cloudy night ; V. i. 42. 
 Heat, urgency; I. ii. 40. 
 Helm, helmet ; I. iii. 273. 
 Herself, itself; I. iii. 96. 
 Hie, hasten ; IV. iii. 50. 
 High suppertime, high time for 
 
 supper; IV. ii. 245-6. 
 Hint, subject, theme; I. iii. 142. 
 Hip; "have on the h.," catch 
 
 at an advantage (a term in 
 
 wrestling) ; II. i. 314. 
 Hold, make to linger; V. ii. 
 
 334- 
 Home, to the point ; II. i. 166. 
 
 Honestly, becoming; IV. i. 288. 
 Honey, sweetheart ; II. i. 206. 
 Horologe, clock; II. iii. 130. 
 Housewife, hussy ; IV. i. 95. 
 Hungerly, hungrily; III. iv. 
 
 105. 
 Hurt ; " to be h.," to endure 
 
 being hurt ; V. ii. 163. 
 Hydra, the fabulous monster 
 
 with many heads ; II. iii. 308. 
 
 Ice-brook's temper, i.e. a sword 
 tempered in the frozen 
 brook ; alluding to the an- 
 cient Spanish custom of 
 hardening steel by plunging 
 red-hot in the rivulet Salo 
 near Bilbilis; V. ii. 252. 
 
 Idle, barren ; I. iii. 140. 
 
 Idleness, unproductiveness, 
 want of cultivation ; I. iii. 
 328. 
 
 Import, importance ; III. iii. 
 3l6. 
 
 Importancy, importance; I. iii. 
 20. 
 
 In, on; I. i. 137. 
 
 Inclining, favourably disposed; 
 II. iii. 346. 
 
 Incontinent, immediately; IV. 
 ii. 12. 
 
 Incontinently, immediately; I. 
 iii. 306. 
 
 Index, introduction, prologue ; 
 
 II. i. 263. 
 
 Indign, unworthy ; I. iii. 274. 
 
 Indues, affects, makes sensi- 
 tive; (Quarto 3, "endures"; 
 Johnson conj. "subdues"); 
 
 III. iv. 146. 
 
 Ingener, inventor (of praises) ; 
 II. i. 65. 
 
 154
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE 
 
 Glossary 
 
 Ingraft, ingrafted; II. iii. 145. 
 
 Inhibited, prohibited, forbid- 
 den ; I. ii. 79. 
 
 Injointed them, joined them- 
 selves ; I. iii. 35. 
 
 Injuries ; " in your i.," while 
 doing injuries; II. i. 112. 
 
 Inordinate, immoderate; II. 
 iii. 311. 
 
 Intendment, intention; IV. ii. 
 203. 
 
 Intentively, with unbroken at- 
 tention (Folio i, " instinc t iue- 
 ly " ; Folios 2. 3. 4, " distinc- 
 tively"; Gould conj. " con- 
 nectively ") ; I. iii. 155. 
 
 Invention, mental activity; IV. 
 i. 195. 
 
 Issues, conclusions ; III. iii. 219. 
 
 Iteration, repetition ; V. ii. 150. 
 
 Janus, the two-headed Roman 
 God ; I. ii. 33. 
 
 Jesses, straps of leather or silk, 
 with which hawks were tied 
 by the leg for the falconer 
 to hold her by; III. iii. 261. 
 Cp. illustration. 
 
 From an engraving of the year 1593. 
 
 Joint-ring, a ring with joints 
 in it, consisting of two 
 halves ; a lover's token ; IV. 
 iii. 73. Cp. illustration. 
 
 From a woodcut by Fairholt. 
 
 Jump, exactly; II. iii. 392. 
 
 , agree ; I. iii. 5. 
 
 Just, exact; I. iii. 5. 
 Justly, truly and faithfully ; I. 
 iii. 124. 
 
 Keep up, put up, do not draw ; 
 I. ii. 59- 
 
 Knave, servant ; I. i. 45. 
 
 Knee-crooking, fawning, ob- 
 sequious ; I. i. 45. 
 
 Know of, learn from, find out 
 from; V. i. 117. 
 
 Lack, miss; III. iii. 318. 
 
 Law-days, court-days ; III. iii. 
 140. 
 
 Leagued, connected in friend- 
 ship (Quartos. Folios'. 
 "league") ; II. iii. 218. 
 
 Learn, teach ; I. iii. 183. 
 
 Learned, intelligent ; III. iii. 
 
 259- 
 
 Lccts, days on which courts are 
 held ; III. iii. 140. 
 
 Levels, is in keeping, is suit- 
 able ; I. iii. 240. 
 
 Liberal, free, wanton ; II. i. 165. 
 
 155
 
 Glossary 
 
 TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 Lies, resides; III. iv. 2. 
 
 Like, equal ; II. i. 16. 
 
 Lingered, prolonged; IV. ii. 
 228. 
 
 List, boundary ; '* patient 1.," the 
 bounds of patience ; IV. i. 76. 
 
 , inclination (Folios. Quar- 
 tos 2. 3, " leaue") ; II. i. 105. 
 , listen to. hear ; II. i. 219. 
 
 Living, real, valid ; III. iii. 409. 
 
 Lost, groundless, vain ; V. ii. 
 269. 
 
 Lown, lout, stupid, blockhead ; 
 II. iii. 95. 
 
 Magnifico, a title given to a 
 
 Venetian grandee ; I. ii. 12. 
 Maidhood, maidenhood; I. i. 
 
 173- 
 
 Main, sea, ocean ; II. i. 3. 
 
 Make away, get away; V. i. 58. 
 
 Makes, does ; I. ii. 49. 
 
 Mammering, hesitating (Fo- 
 lios, Quartos 2. 3. " mam'- 
 ring"', Quarto I. "mutter- 
 ing " ! Johnson, " mummer- 
 ing ") '< HI. iii. 70. 
 
 Man, wield ; V. ii. 270. 
 
 Manage, set on foot ; II. iii. 215. 
 
 Mandragora. mandrake, a plant 
 supposed to induce sleep ; III. 
 iii. 330. 
 
 Mane, crest ; II. i. 13. 
 
 Manifest, reveal ; I. ii. 32. 
 
 Marble, (?) everlasting; III. 
 iii. 460. 
 
 Mass; " by the mass," an oath 
 (Folios i, 2, 3, "Introth"; 
 Folio 4, "In troth") ; II. iii. 
 
 384- 
 
 Master, captain; II. i. 211. 
 May, can ; V. i. 78. 
 
 Mazzard, head; II. iii. 155. 
 
 Me; "whip me," whip (me 
 ethic dative) ; I. i. 49. 
 
 Mean, means ; III. i. 39. 
 
 Meet, seemly, becoming ; I. i. 
 146. 
 
 Mere, utter, absolute ; II. ii. 3. 
 
 Minion, a spoilt darling ; V. i. 
 33- 
 
 Mischance, misfortune ; V. i. 
 38. 
 
 Mock, ridicule ; I. ii. 69. 
 
 Modern, common-place ; I. iii. 
 109. 
 
 Moe, more ; IV. iii. 57. 
 
 Molestation, disturbance ; II. i. 
 16. 
 
 Monstrous (trisyllabic) (Ca- 
 pell, " monsterous ") ; II. iii. 
 217. 
 
 Moons, months ; I. iii. 84. 
 
 Moorship's (formed on analo- 
 gy of worship ; Quarto I 
 reads " Worship's ") ; I. i. 33. 
 
 Moralcr, moralizer ; II. iii. 301. 
 
 Mortal, deadly ; II. i. 72. 
 
 , fatal ; V. ii. 205. 
 
 Mortise, " a hole made in tim- 
 ber to receive the tenon of 
 another piece of timber ; II. 
 i. 9. 
 
 Moth, " an idle eater " ; I. iii. 
 
 257. 
 
 Motion, impulse, emotion ; I. 
 iii. 95- 
 
 , natural impulse; I. ii. 75. 
 
 Mountebanks, quacks : I. iii. 61. 
 
 Mummy, a preparation used 
 for magical as well as me- 
 dicinal purposes, made orig- 
 inally from mummies ; III. 
 iv. 74. 
 
 150
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE 
 
 Glossary 
 
 Mutualities, familiarities ; II. i. 
 
 266. 
 Mystery, trade craft ; IV. ii. 30. 
 
 Naked, unarmed ; V. ii. 258. 
 Napkin, handkerchief; III. iii. 
 
 287. 
 
 Native, natural, real ; I. i. 62. 
 New, fresh (Quartos, 
 
 "more") ; I. iii. 205. 
 Next, nearest ; I. iii. 205. 
 North, north wind ; V. ii. 220. 
 Notorious, notable, egregious ; 
 
 IV. ii. 140. 
 Nuptial, wedding (Quartos, 
 
 "Nuptialls") ; II. ii. 8. 
 
 Obscure, abstruse ; II. i. 263. 
 Observancy, homage; III. iv. 
 
 149. 
 Odd-even, probably the interval 
 
 between twelve o'clock at 
 
 night and one o'clock in the 
 
 morning; I. i. 124. 
 Odds, quarrel ; II. iii. 185. 
 Off, away; V. ii. 331. 
 Off-capp'd, doffed their caps, 
 
 saluted (Quartos, "oft 
 
 capt") ; I. i. 10. 
 Offends, hurts, pains ; II. iii. 
 
 199. 
 Office, duty (Quarto i, 
 
 "duty") ; III. iv. 113. 
 Officed, having a special func- 
 tion ; I. iii. 271. 
 Offices, domestic offices, where 
 
 food and drink were kept ; II. 
 
 ii. 9. 
 Old, time-honoured system ; I. 
 
 i- 37- 
 
 On, at ; II. iii. 132. 
 On 't, of it ; II. i. 30. 
 
 Opinion, public opinion, repu- 
 tation ; II. iii. 196. 
 Opposite, opposed ; I. ii. 67. 
 Other, otherwise ; IV. ii. 13. 
 Ottomites, Ottomans; I. iii. 
 
 33- 
 Out-tongue, bear down ; I. ii. 
 
 19. 
 Overt; " o. test," open proofs; 
 
 I. iii. 107. 
 Owe, own ; I. i. 66. 
 Owedst, didst own ; III. iii. 333. 
 
 Paddle, play, toy; II. i. 259. 
 Pageant, show, pretence ; I. iii. 
 
 18. 
 Paragons, excels, surpasses; II. 
 
 i. 62. 
 Parcels, parts, portions ; I. iii. 
 
 154- 
 Partially, with undue favour 
 
 (Qq., "partiality"); II. iii. 
 
 218. 
 
 Parts, gifts; III. iii. 264. 
 Passage, people passing; V. i. 
 
 37- 
 
 Passing, surpassingly; I. iii. 
 1 60. 
 
 Patent, privilege; IV. i. 203. 
 
 Patience (trisyllabic) ; II. iii. 
 376. 
 
 Peculiar, personal ; III. iii. 79. 
 
 Peevish, childish, silly; II. iii. 
 185. 
 
 Pegs, " the pins of an instru- 
 ment on which the strings are 
 fastened " ; II. i. 202. 
 
 Perdurable, durable, lasting ; I. 
 
 iii. 343- 
 
 Period, ending; V. ii. 357. 
 Pestilence, poison: II. iii. 362. 
 Pierced, penetrated ; I. iii. 219. 
 
 157
 
 Glossary 
 
 TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 Pioners, pioneers, the common- 
 est soldiers, employed for 
 rough, hard work, such as 
 levelling roads, forming 
 mines, etc, ; III. iii. 346. 
 
 Pleasance, pleasure (Quartos, 
 "pleasure"); II. iii. 293. 
 
 Pliant, convenient ; I. iii. 151. 
 
 Plume up, make to triumph 
 (Quarto i, "make up"); I. 
 iii. 398. 
 
 Poise, weight ; III. iii. 82. 
 
 Pontic sea, Euxine or Black 
 Sea; III. iii. 453. 
 
 Parlance, conduct ; I. iii. 139. 
 
 Position, positive assertion ; 
 III. iii. 234. 
 
 Post-post-haste, very great 
 haste ; I. iii. 46. 
 
 Pottle-deep, to the bottom of 
 the tankard, a measure of 
 two quarts ; II. iii. 56. 
 
 Practice, plotting ; III. iv. 141. 
 
 Precious, used ironically 
 (Quartos 2, 3, " perni- 
 tious ") ; V. ii. 235. 
 
 Prefer, promote ; II. i. 286. 
 , show, present : I. iii. 109. 
 
 Preferment, promotion; I. i. 
 36. 
 
 Pregnant, probable; II. i. 239. 
 
 Presently, immediately ; III. i. 
 38- 
 
 Prick 'd, incited, spurred; III. 
 iii. 412. 
 
 Probal, probable, reasonable ; 
 II. iii. 344. 
 
 Probation, proof; III. iii. 365. 
 
 Profane, coarse, irreverent ; II. 
 i. 165. 
 
 Profit, profitable lesson ; III. iii. 
 379- 
 
 Proof; " make p.," test, make 
 trial ; V. i. 26. 
 
 Proper, own; I. iii. 69. 
 
 , handsome ; I. iii. 397. 
 
 Propontic, the Sea of Mar- 
 mora ; III. iii. 456. 
 
 Propose, speak ; I. i. 25. 
 
 Propriety; " from her p.," out 
 of herself; II. iii. 176. 
 
 Prosperity, success ; II. i. 287. 
 
 Prosperous, propitious ; I. iii. 
 245- 
 
 Puddled, muddled; III. iv. 143. 
 
 Purse, wrinkle, frown ; III. iii. 
 
 113- 
 
 Purse . . . strings; I. i. 2, 3. 
 Cp. illustration. 
 
 From the leaden seal of the Confra- 
 ternity of Purse-makers (Boursiers) 
 of Paris. 
 
 Put on, incite, instigate ; II. iii. 
 357- 
 
 Qualification, appeasement ; II. 
 i. 281. 
 
 Qualified, diluted; II. iii. 41. 
 
 Quality; " very q.," i.e, very na- 
 ture ; I. iii. 252. 
 
 Quarter; " in q.," in peace, 
 friendship; II. iii. 180. 
 
 158
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE 
 
 Glossary 
 
 Quat, pistule, pimple (used 
 contemptuously) ; Quarto i, 
 " g'Mt " ; Theobald, " knot," 
 etc.) ; V. i. n. 
 
 Question, trial and decision by 
 force of arms ; I. iii. 23. 
 
 Quests, bodies of searchers ; I. 
 ii. 46. 
 
 Quicken, receive life ; III. iii. 
 
 277- 
 
 Quillets, quibbles; III. i. 25. 
 Quirks, shallow conceits; II. i. 
 
 63- 
 
 Raised up, awakened ; II. iii. 
 
 250. 
 
 Rank, coarse ; II. i. 314. 
 Rank, lustful (? morbid) ; III. 
 
 iii. 232. 
 
 Recognisance, token ; V. ii. 214. 
 Reconciliation, restoration to 
 
 favour; III. iii. 47. 
 Reference, assignment (Quarto 
 
 i, " reuerence " ; Folios 3. 4, 
 
 " reverence " ; Johnson conj. 
 
 "preference") ; I. iii. 238. 
 Regard, view; II. i. 40. 
 Region, part ; IV. i. 84. 
 Relume, rekindle ; V. ii. 13. 
 Remorse, pity, compassion; III. 
 
 iii. 369. 
 
 Remove, banish ; IV. ii. 14. 
 Repeals, recalls to favour ; II. 
 
 iii. 363. 
 Reprobation, perdition, damna- 
 
 t i o n (Folios, " Repro- 
 
 bance") ; V. ii. 209. 
 Reverses, keeps; III. iii. 295. 
 Respect, notice ; IV. ii. 190. 
 Re-stem, retrace; I. iii. 37. 
 Revolt, inconstancy; III. iii. 
 
 188. 
 
 Rich, valuable, precious; II. iii. 
 
 195- 
 Roman (used ironically) ; IV. 
 
 i. 121. 
 Round, straightforward, plain ; 
 
 I. iii. 90. 
 
 Rouse, bumper, full measure ; 
 
 II. iii. 66. 
 
 Rude, harsh ; III. iii. 355. 
 Ruffian 'd, been bois t e r o u s, 
 raged; II. i. 7. 
 
 Sadly, sorrowfully ; II. i. 32. 
 Safe, sound ; IV. i. 272. 
 Sagittary, a public building in 
 
 Venice; I. i. 159. 
 Salt, lustful; II. i. 245. 
 Sans, without; I. iii. 64. 
 'Sblood, a corruption of God's 
 
 blood; an oath (the reading 
 
 of Quarto i ; omitted in 
 
 others) ; I. i. 4. 
 Scant, neglect; I. iii. 268. 
 'Scapes, escapes ; I. iii. 136. 
 Scattering, random ; III. iii. 
 
 151- 
 Scion, slip, off- shoot (Quartos, 
 
 "syen"; Folios, "Seyen"); 
 
 I. iii. 337- 
 
 Scored me, " made my reckon- 
 ing, settled the term of my 
 
 life" (Johnson, Schmidt). 
 
 "branded me" (Steevens, 
 
 Clarke) ; IV. i. 129. 
 Scorns, expressions of scorn ; 
 
 IV. i. 83. 
 Seamy side without, wrong side 
 
 out ; IV. ii. 146. 
 Sect, cutting, scion ; I. iii. 336. 
 Secure, free from care ; IV. i. 
 
 72. 
 
 159
 
 Glossary 
 
 TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 Secure me, feel myself secure; 
 
 I. iii. 10. 
 Seel, blind (originally a term 
 
 in falconry) ; I. iii. 270. 
 Seeming, appearance, exterior; 
 
 I. iii. 109. 
 
 , hypocrisy ; III. iii. 209. 
 Segregation, dispersion; II. i. 
 
 10. 
 Self-bounty, inherent kindness 
 
 and benevolence ; III. iii. 
 
 200. 
 Self-charity, charity to one's 
 
 self; II. iii. 202. 
 Se'nnight's, seven night's, a 
 
 week's ; II. i. 77. 
 Sense, feeling (Quartos, " of- 
 fence") ; II. iii. 268. 
 ; "to the s.," i.e. "to the 
 
 quick " ; V. i. n. 
 Sequent, successive ; I. ii. 41. 
 Sequester, sequestration ; III. 
 
 iv. 40. 
 Sequestration, rupture, divorce ; 
 
 I. iii. 351. 
 
 Shore, did cut; V. ii. 206. 
 Should, could; III. iv. 23. 
 Shrewd, bad, evil ; III. iii. 429. 
 Shrift, shriving place, confes- 
 sional ; III. iii. 24. 
 Shut up in, confine to; III. iv. 
 
 121. 
 
 Sibyl, prophetess ; III. iv. 70. 
 Siege, rank, place ; I. ii. 22. 
 Simpleness, simplicity ; I. iii. 
 
 247. 
 Sir; " play the s.," play the fine 
 
 gentleman ; II. i. 176. 
 Sith, since (Quartos, " since '') ; 
 
 III. iii. 380. 
 Skillet, boiler, kettle ; I. iii. 273. 
 
 The accompanying illustra- 
 
 tion represents an old six- 
 teenth century helmet used as 
 a skillet, which was found in 
 dredging the Thames near 
 the Tower of London. 
 
 Slight, worthless, frivolous; II. 
 iii. 279. 
 
 Slipper, slippery; II. i. 246. 
 
 Slubber, sully, soil ; I. iii. 227. 
 
 Snipe, simpleton (Folio i, 
 " S n p e" ; Folio 2. ''a 
 Swaine"; Folios 3, 4. "a 
 Swain ") ; I. iii. 390. 
 
 Snorting, snoring ; I. i. 90. 
 
 Soft, mild, gentle ; I. iii. 82. 
 
 Soft you, hold ; V. ii. 338. 
 
 Something, somewhat ; II. iii. 
 199. 
 
 Sorry, painful (Quartos, "sul- 
 len " ; Collier MS., " sud- 
 den") ; III. iv. 51. 
 
 Spake, said, affirmed (Quarto 
 3, " speake ") ; V. ii. 327. 
 
 160
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE 
 
 Glossary 
 
 Spartan dog, the dogs of Spar- 
 tan breed were fiercest ; V. ii. 
 361. 
 
 Speak i' the nose, " the Nea- 
 politans have a singularly 
 drawling nasal twang in the 
 utterance of their dialect; 
 and Shylock tells of ' when 
 the bagpipe sings i' the 
 nose'' (Clarke); (Collier 
 MS., "squeak"; etc.); HI. 
 
 - i. 5- 
 
 Speak parrot, talk nonsense ; II. 
 
 iii. 280. 
 Speculative, possessing the 
 
 power of seeing; I. iii. 271. 
 Spend, waste, squander ; II. iii. 
 
 195- 
 
 Spleen, choler, anger ; IV. i. 89. 
 
 Splinter, secure by splints; II. 
 iii. 329. 
 
 Squire, fellow (used contemp- 
 tuously) ; IV. ii. 145. 
 
 Stand in act, are in action ; I. i. 
 152. 
 
 Start, startle, rouse; I. i. 101. 
 
 Startingly, abruptly (Folios 3, 
 4, " staringly") ; III. iv. 79. 
 
 Stay, are waiting for ; IV. ii. 
 170. 
 
 Stead, benefit, help; I. iii. 344. 
 
 Still, often, now and again ; I. 
 iii. 147. 
 
 Stomach, appetite ; V. ii. 75. 
 
 Stop; "your s.," the impedi- 
 ment you can place in my 
 way ; V. ii. 264. 
 
 Stoup, a vessel for holding 
 liquor; II. iii. 30. 
 
 Stow'd, bestowed, placed ; I. ii. 
 62. 
 
 Straight, straightway ; I. i. 138. 
 
 Strain, urge, press : III. iii. 250. 
 
 Strangeness, estrang e m e n t 
 (Quartos, "strangest"') ; III. 
 iii. 12. 
 
 Strawberries; the accompany- 
 ing engraving is copied from 
 " a piece of Elizabethan nee- 
 dlework in which the straw- 
 berry and pink alternate over 
 a ground of fawn-coloured 
 silk " ; III. iii. 435. 
 
 Stuff o' the conscience, matter 
 of conscience ; I. ii. 2. 
 
 Subdued, make subject; I. iii. 
 251- 
 
 Success, that which follows, 
 consequence; III. iii. 222. 
 
 Sudden, quick, hasty ; II. i. 278. 
 
 Sufferance, damage, loss ; II. i. 
 23- 
 
 Sufficiency, ability ; I. iii. 224. 
 
 Sufficient, able; III. iv. 91. 
 
 Suggest, tempt ; II. iii. 358. 
 
 Supersubtle, excessively crafty 
 (Collier MS., "super-sup- 
 ple") ; I. iii. 363. 
 
 Sweeting, a term of endear- 
 ment ; II. iii. 252. 
 
 Swelling, inflated ; II. iii. 57. 
 
 161
 
 Glossary 
 
 TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 Sword of Spain, Spanish 
 swords were celebrated for 
 their excellence ; V. ii. 253. 
 
 Ta'en order, taken measures ; 
 V. ii. 72. 
 
 Ta'en out, copied ; III. iii. 296. 
 
 Tainting, disparaging; II. i. 
 274. 
 
 Take out, copy ; III. iv. 180. 
 
 Take up at the best, make the 
 best of; I. iii. 173. 
 
 Talk, talk nonsense ; IV. iii. 25. 
 
 Talk me, speak to me ; III.iv.Q2. 
 
 Tells o'er, counts ; III. iii. 169. 
 
 Theoric, theory ; Li. 24. 
 
 Thick-lips ; used contemptuous- 
 ly for " Africans " ; I. i. 66. 
 
 Thin, slight, easily seen 
 through ; I. iii. 108. 
 
 Thread, thread of life ; V. ii. 
 206. 
 
 Thrice-driven, " referring to 
 the selection of the feathers 
 by driving with a fan, to sep- 
 arate the light from the 
 heavy " (Johnson) ; I. iii. 
 232. 
 
 Thrive in, succeed in gaining; 
 
 I. iii. 125. 
 
 Time, life ; I. i. 162. 
 Timorous, full of fear ; I. i. 75. 
 Tire, make tired, weary out ; II. 
 
 i.6 5 . 
 Toged, wearing the toga; I. i. 
 
 25- 
 Told, struck, counted (Folios 
 
 3,4, "toll'd") ; II. ii. n. 
 Toy, fancy; III. iv. 156. 
 Toys, trifles ; I. iii. 269. 
 Trash, worthless thing, dross; 
 
 II. i. 311. 
 
 , keep back, hold in check 
 
 (a hunter's term) ; II. i. 311. 
 
 Traverse, march, go on ; I. iii. 
 3/8. 
 
 Trimm'd in, dressed in. wear- 
 ing; I. i. 50. 
 
 Turn; " t. thy complexion." 
 change colour ; IV. ii. 62. 
 
 Unblcst, accursed; II. iii. 311. 
 
 Unbonnettcd, without taking 
 
 off the cap, on equal terms ; 
 
 I. ii. 23. 
 
 Unbookish, ignorant ; IV. i. 102. 
 Uncapablc, incapable; IV. ii. 
 
 232. 
 
 Undertaker; " his u.," take 
 charge of him, dispatch him ; 
 
 IV. i. 224. 
 Unfold, reveal, bring to light ; 
 
 IV. ii. 141. 
 Unfolding, communication : I. 
 
 iii. 245. 
 Unhandsome, unfair; III. iv. 
 
 151. 
 
 Unhatch'd, undisclosed; III. iv. 
 
 141. 
 Unhoused, homeless, not tied to 
 
 a household and family ; I. ii. 
 
 26. 
 
 Unlace, degrade ; II. iii. 104. 
 Unperfectness, imperfection ; 
 
 II. iii. 298. 
 
 Unprovidc, make unprepared ; 
 IV. i. 211. 
 
 Unsure, uncertain ; III. iii. 151. 
 
 Unvarnish'd, plain, unadorned ; 
 I. iii. 90. 
 
 Umvitted, deprived of under- 
 standing; II. iii. 182. 
 
 Upon, incited by, urged by; I. 
 i. IOO. 
 
 162
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE 
 
 Glossary 
 
 Use, custom ; IV. i. 277. 
 Uses, manners, habits (Quarto 
 i, " vsage") ; IV. iii. 105. 
 
 Vantage ; " to the v.,'' over and 
 above ; IV. iii. 85. 
 
 Vessel, body; IV. ii. 83. 
 
 Vesture, garment ; II. i. 64. 
 
 Violence, bold action ; I. iii. 
 250. 
 
 Virtuous, having efficacy, pow- 
 erful ; III. iv. in. 
 
 Voices, votes ; I. iii. 261. 
 
 Vouch, assert, maintain ; I. iii. 
 103, 106. 
 
 , bear witness ; I. iii. 262. 
 
 , testimony ; II. i. 148. 
 
 Wage, venture, attempt; I. iii. 
 30. 
 
 Watch, watchman; V. i. 37. 
 
 Watch him, keep him from 
 sleeping ; a term in falconry ; 
 III. iii. 23. 
 
 Wearing, clothes ; IV. iii. 16. 
 
 Well said, well done (Quartos, 
 "well scd") ; II. i. 168. 
 
 What, who; I. i. 18. 
 
 Wheeling, errant (Quarto 2, 
 "wheedling") ; I. i. 137. 
 
 Whipster, one who whips out 
 his sword (used contemptu- 
 ously) ; V. ii. 244. 
 
 White (used with a play upon 
 white and wight) ; II. i. 134. 
 
 Wholesome, reasonable ; III. i. 
 49- 
 
 Wicker, covered with wicker- 
 work; (Folios," Twiggen ") ', 
 II. iii. 152. 
 
 Wight, person (applied to both 
 sexes) ; II. i. 159. 
 
 Wind; "let her down the w."; 
 the falconers always let the 
 hawk fly against the wind ; if 
 she flies with the wind behind 
 her she seldom returns. If 
 therefore a hawk was for any 
 reason to be dismissed, she 
 was let down the wind, and 
 from that, time shifted for 
 herself and preyed at for- 
 tune " (Johnson) ; III. iii. 
 262. 
 
 Wind-shaked, wind-shaken; II. 
 i. 13- 
 
 With, by ; II. i. 34. 
 
 Withal, with ; I. iii. 93. 
 
 With all my heart, used both 
 as a salutation, and also as a 
 reply to a salutation ; IV. i. 
 220. 
 
 Within door ; " speak w. d.," i.e. 
 " not so loud as to be heard 
 outside the house " ; IV. ii. 
 144. 
 
 Woman'd, accompanied by a 
 woman ; III. iv. 195. 
 
 Worser, worse ; I. i. 95. 
 
 Wrcncli, wrest (Quarto I, 
 "Wring") ; V. ii. 288. 
 
 Wretch, a term of endearment ; 
 (Theobald, "wench"); III. 
 iii. 90. 
 
 Wrought, worked upon ; V. ii. 
 345- 
 
 Yerk'd, thrust ; I. ii. 5. 
 Yet, as yet, till now ; III. iii. 
 432. 
 
 103
 
 TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO. 
 
 Critical Notes. 
 
 BY ISRAEL GOLLANCZ. 
 
 I. i. 15. Omitted in Folios and Quartos 2, 3. 
 
 I. i. 21. 'A fellow almost damn'd in a fair wife'; if this alludes 
 to Bianca. the phrase may possibly mean ' very near being married 
 to a most fair wife.' Some explain " A fellow whose ignorance of 
 war would be condemned in a fair woman." The emendations 
 proposed are unsatisfactory, and probably unnecessary. 
 
 I. i. 72. ' changes ' ; Folios read ' chances.' 
 
 I. ii. 72-77; iii. 16; 36; 63; 118; 123; 194; omitted in Quarto i. 
 
 I. ii. 75. ' weaken motion ' ; Rowe's emendation ; Folios, and 
 Quartos 2, 3, ' weakens motion ' ; Pope (Ed. 2, Theobald) ' weaken 
 notion'; Hanmer, 'waken motion'; Keightley, 'wakens motion'; 
 Anon. conj. in Furness, 'wake emotion', etc. 
 
 I. iii. 67. ' bloody book of lazv ' ; " By the Venetian law the 
 giving of love-potions was highly criminal" (Clarke). 
 
 I. iii. 87. 'feats of broil'; Capell's emendation; Quarto i. ' feate 
 of broile ' ; Folio I, ' Feats of Broiles,' etc. 
 
 I. iii. 107. ' Certain ' ; so Quartos ; Folios, ' wider.' 
 
 I. iii. 139. ' parlance in my ' ; so Folios and Quarto 2 ; Quarto 
 3, ' portcnce in my'; Quarto I, ' with it all my'; Johnson conj. 
 'parlance in't; my'; etc.; 'travels''; the reading of Modern 
 Edd. (Globe Ed.); Quartos, 'trauells'; Pope, 'travels': Folio 
 i. ' 7 raucllours ' ; Folios 2. 3. ' Travellers ' ; Folio 4, ' Traveller's ' : 
 Richardson conj. ' travellous' or ' travailous.' 
 
 I. iii. 159.' sighs ' ; Folios, ' kisses ' ; Southern MS., ' thanks.' 
 
 I. iii. 250. 'and storm of fortunes'; Quarto i, 'and scorne of 
 Fortunes' etc. 
 
 I. iii. 261. ' Let her have your voices'; Dyce's correction; 
 Folios. ' Let her have your voice ' ; Quartos read 
 
 " Your voyccs Lords; beseech you let her will 
 haue a free way." 
 
 I. iii. 264-265. 'the young affects In me defunct'; Quartos, 
 ' the young affects In my defunct ' ; so Folio i ; Folios 2, 3. 4, 
 ' effects.' The reading of the text is the simplest and most plau- 
 
 164
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Notes 
 
 sible emendation of the many proposed, the words meaning ' the 
 passions of youth which I have now outlived ' : ' proper satisfac- 
 tion ' ' my own gratification.' 
 
 I. iii. 330. ' balance ' ; Folios, ' brain ' and ' braine ' ; Theobald, 
 ' beam' 
 
 I. iii. 354. ' luscious as locusts ' ; " perhaps so mentioned from 
 being placed together with wild honey in St. Matthew iii. 4 " 
 (Schmidt). 
 
 I. iii. 358. Omitted in Folios. 
 
 I. iii. 384-388. The reading in the text is that of the second 
 and third Quartos ; Quarto I, adds after the words ' / am 
 chang'd ' 
 
 " Goe to farewell, put money enough in your purse " ; 
 
 omitting ' I'll go sell all my land.' 
 
 II. i. 39-40; 158; 260 ('didst not mark that?'); omitted in 
 Quarto i. 
 
 II. i. 65. ' tire the ingencr'; Knight, Steevens conj.; Folio r, 
 'tyre the Ingeniuer'; Folios 2, 3, 4, 'tire the Ingeniver'; Quarto 
 i, ' bcare all Excellency' ; Quartos 2, 3, ' beare an excelency' : 
 Johnson conj. ' tire the ingenious verse'; Pope, 'beare all excel- 
 lency ' 
 
 II. i. 82. 'And . . . Cyprus'; omitted in Folios. 
 
 II. i. 249. ' a devilish knave ' ; omitted in Quartos. 
 
 II. i. 258. ' blest pudding ' ; Folios, ' Bless'd pudding ' ; omitted 
 in Quartos. 
 
 II. i. 267-268. ' comes the master and main ' ; so Folios ; Quarto 
 i reads ' comes the maim ' ; Quartos 2, 3, ' comes Roderigo, the 
 master and the maine.' 
 
 II. i. 279. ' haply may ' ; Quartos read ' haply with his Trunchen 
 may.' 
 
 II. i. 311. 'poor trash of Venice, whom I trash'; Steevens' 
 emendation ; Quarto i, ' poor trash . . . I crush ' ; Folios, 
 Quartos 2. 3. ' poor Trash ... 7 trace ' ; Theobald, Warbur- 
 ton conj. 'poor brach . . . 7 trace'; Warburton (later conj.) 
 'poor brach ... 7 clicrish.' 
 
 II. iii. 42. ' here,' i.e. in my head. 
 
 II. iii. 92-99. These lines are from an old song called ' Take thy 
 old cloak about thee,' to be found in Percy's Reliques. 
 
 II. iii. 167. ' sense of place ' ; Hanmer's emendation of Quar- 
 tos: Folios, 'place of sense.' 
 
 II. iii. 292. ' transform ourselves into beasts.' " This trans- 
 
 165
 
 Notes 
 
 TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 formation was frequently depicted in old satirical prints ; as in 
 the woodcut here copied from the Musarum Deliciae 1657, repre- 
 senting ' the drunken humors ' 
 imparting to men the feeling and 
 manners of the tiger, the ass, the 
 fox, the dog, the ape and the 
 swine." 
 
 II. iii. 318. 'some time'; so 
 Quartos ; Folios, ' a time ' ; Grant 
 White, ' one time.' 
 
 III. i. 13. ' for love's sake'; 
 Quarto i, ' of all loues.' 
 
 III. i. 43. ' F I o r c n tine,' i.e. 
 ' even a Florentine ' ; lago was a 
 Venetian. 
 
 III. i. 52. Omitted in Folios. 
 III. iii. 23. ' watch him tame,' 
 i.e. tame him by keeping him from sleep (as was done with 
 hawks). 
 
 III. iii. 106. 'By heaven, he echoes me'; Quarto i, ' By heauen 
 he ecchocs me'; Folios 'Alas, thou ccchos't me'; Quartos 2, 3, 
 ' why dost thou ecchoe me.' 
 
 III. iii. 132. ' thy worst of thoughts'; so Folios, Quarto 2; 
 Quarto i reads ' the worst of thoughts'; Quarto 3, ' thy 
 thoughts'; perhaps we should read: 
 
 "As thou dost rum'nate, give thy worst of tlioughts." 
 
 III. iii. 170. 'strongly'; so Quartos; Folios, 'soundly'; Knight, 
 ' fondly.' 
 
 III. iii. 277. ' Dcsdemona comes ' ; so Quartos ; Folios read 
 ' Looke where she comes.' 
 
 III. iii. 325; 383-390; 453-460; iv. 8-10 ; 195-196. Omitted in 
 Quarto i. 
 
 III. iii. 440. ' any that was hers ' ; Malone's emendation ; Quar- 
 tos, ' any, it was hers ' ; Folio I, ' any, it was hers ' ; Folios 2, 3, 4, 
 'any, if't vvas hers'; Anon. conj. 'any 'it' was hers.' 
 
 III. iii. 447. ' thy hollow cell'; so Quartos; Folios read ' the 
 hollow hell'; Warburtan, ' th' unhallow'd cell.' 
 
 III. iii. 456. Steevens compares the following passage in Hol- 
 land's Pliny : " And the sea Pontus ever more floweth and run- 
 neth out from Propontes, but the sea never retireth back again 
 wfthin Pontus." 
 
 166
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Notes 
 
 III. iii. 469. 'business ever'; Quartos, ' worke so eucr'; Col- 
 lier, ' work soe'er,' etc. 
 
 III. iv. 47. ' our new heraldry,' (vide PREFACE). 
 
 III. iv. 65. 'her,' i.e. to my wife (implied in 'wive'). 
 
 III. iv. 121. 'shut myself up in,' etc., i.e. 'Confine myself to 
 some other course of life, awaiting fortune's charity ' ; Quarto i, 
 ' shoote my selfe up in'; Capell, 'shoot myself upon'; Rann, 
 'shape myself upon'; Collier MS., 'shift myself upon.' 
 
 III. iv. 151. 'warrior'; Hanmer, 'wrangler'; cp. ' O my fair 
 warrior ' ; (II. i. 184) . 
 
 IV. i. 77. ' here o'erwlielmed ' ; Quarto i, ' here ere while, mad.' 
 IV. i. 122. (' What, a customer!') ; ii. 73-76; iii. 60-63, 87-104; 
 
 omitted in Quarto I. 
 
 IV. i. 137-138. 'and, by tliis hand, she falls me'; so Collier; 
 Quarto i, reads ' by this hand she fals ' ; Folios, ' and falls me ' ; 
 Quartos 2, 3, ' fals me.' 
 
 IV. i. 268. ' This the nature,' Pope's reading; Quartos, ' This 
 the noble nature'; -Folios, ' Is this the nature.' 
 
 IV. ii. 109. ' least misuse ' ; Quarto i, ' greatest abuse ' ; Collier 
 MS., ' least misdeede.' 
 
 IV. ii. 170. ' The messengers of Venice stay the meat'; 
 Knight's reading; Folio i, ' The Messengers of Venice staies the 
 meate ' ; Folios 2, 3, 4, ' The Messenger of Venice stoics the 
 mcatc'; Quarto i, 'And the great Messengers of Venice stay'; 
 Quartos 2, 3, ' The meate, great Messengers of Venice stay.' 
 
 IV. iii. 23. 'All's one. Good faith'; Quarto i, 'All's one 
 good faith'; Quartos 2, 3, 'All's one; good father'; Folios, 
 'All's one: good Father.' 
 
 IV. iii. 26. 'Barbara'; Quartos read ' Barbary ' ; Folio i. ' Bar- 
 barie.' 
 
 IV. iii. 41, etc. ; the original of Desdemona's song is to be 
 found in Percy's Rcliques under the title of ' A Lover's Com- 
 plaint, being forsaken of his Love'; where the plaintive lover is 
 a man. 
 
 IV. iii. 41. 'sighing'; Folios, 'singing'; Quarto 3, ' singhing ' ; 
 Folio i, (Dev.) ' sining.' 
 
 V. i. 82-83; ii. 82, 185-193, 266-272; omitted in Quarto I. 
 
 V. i. 105. ' gentlemen,' the reading of Folios ; Quartos, ' Gen- 
 tlewoman.' 
 
 V. i. 107. 'if you stare'; so Folios; Quartos i, 2, 'an you 
 stirre ' ; Quarto 3, ' an you stirr ' ; Anon. conj. ' if you stay.' 
 
 V. ii. 7. ' Put out the light, and then put out the light'; i.e. 
 
 167
 
 Notes TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 ' put out the light, and then put out the light of life.' The Cam- 
 bridge Editors give some dozen variant methods of punctuating 
 and reading the line, but it is perfectly clear as it stands. 
 
 V. ii. 151. 'made mocks with love'; "taken advantage to play 
 upon the weakness of passion " (Johnson). 
 
 V. ii. 172. ' Disprove this villain ' ; Capell, ' Disprove it, villain.' 
 
 V. ii. 337. ' bring au'ay ' ; Quartos, ' bring him away ' ; Collier 
 MS., ' bring them away.' 
 
 V. ii. 347. 'Indian'; Folio I, 'ludean'; Theobald proposed 
 'Judian,' adding, " I am satisfied in his Indian he is alluding to 
 Herod, who, in a fit of blind jealosie, threw away such a jewel of 
 a wife as Mariamne was to him." This interpretation was War- 
 burton's. " This it is," as Coleridge put it, " for no-poets to com- 
 ment on the greatest of poets ! To make Othello say that he, who 
 had killed his wife, was like Herod who had killed Mariamne! " 
 Boswell aptly quotes from Habington's Castara : 
 
 "So the unskilful Indian those bright gems 
 Which might add majesty to diadems, 
 'Mong the waves scatters." 
 
 168
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE 
 
 Explanatory Notes. 
 
 The Explanatory Xotes in this edition have been specially selected and 
 adapted, with emendations after the latest and best authorities, from the 
 most eminent Shakespearian scholars and commentators, including Johnson, 
 Malone, Steevens, Singer, Dyce, Hudson, White, Furness, Dowden, and 
 others. This method, here introduced for the first time, provides the best 
 annotation of Shakespeare ever embraced in a single edition. 
 
 ACT FIRST. 
 Scene I. 
 
 3. shouldst know of this: Of the intended elopement. Rod- 
 erigo has been suing for Desdemona's hand, employing lago to 
 aid him in his suit, and paying his service in advance. The play 
 opens pat upon her elopement with the Moor, and Roderigo pre- 
 sumes lago to have been in the secret of their intention. 
 
 10. Off-capp'd : To cap was often used for a salutation of re- 
 spect, made by taking off the cap. " Three great ones of the city," 
 says Knight, " wait upon Othello ; they off-capp'd they took cap 
 in hand in personal suit that he should make lago his lieutenant." 
 
 31. By debitor and creditor: By a mere accountant, a keeper 
 of debt and credit. lago means that Cassio, though knowing no 
 more of war than men of the gown, as distinguished from men of 
 the sword, has yet outsailed him in military advancement. Again, 
 he calls Cassio "this counter-caster" in allusion to the counters 
 formerly used in reckoning up accounts. 
 
 33. ancient: This old corruption of ensign was used both for 
 a standard and a standard-bearer. For both uses see i Henry IV ., 
 IV. ii. 25 and 33 respectively. But that ensign was in use in 
 Shakespeare's day is abundantly proved, as in Drayton's Barons' 
 Warrcs : 
 
 " Ensigne beards Ensigne, Sword 'gainst Sword doth shake." 
 
 39. Whether I stand within any such terms of affinity to the 
 Moor, as that I am bound to love him. 
 
 169
 
 Notes TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 45. knee-crooking knave: We have here a notable example of 
 the use of knave in the transition stage between its second and its 
 third or present meaning. It first meant a child ; then, because 
 children served their elders, a servant ; and finally, because of the 
 dishonesty and loose morals of servants, a rogue. In Roderigo's 
 account of the elopement, farther on in this scene, the word occurs 
 in its secondary sense, " a knave of common hire, a gondolier." 
 The opprobrious sense of the word seems to have become fixed 
 early in the second quarter of the seventeenth century. " For 
 whosoeuer should in these present times say in England to some 
 English men knaue, which formerly was taken for a man sertiant, 
 and on which word the law takes no hold, it would not take well, 
 for that knaue and a base fellow signifieth the selfe same thing." 
 
 65. / am not what I am : A misprint, perhaps, for " I am not 
 what I seem." This, at all events, is probably the meaning of 
 lago. 
 
 66. full fortune, etc. : So both the Quartos : the Folio has fall 
 instead of full. The meaning is, how fortunate he is, or how 
 strong in fortune, if he can hold out against such practice. Simi- 
 lar language occurs in Cymbeline : " Our pleasure his full fortune 
 doth confine." And in Antony and Cleopatra: "The imperious 
 show of the full-fortuned Caesar." Of course owe is used in the 
 old sense of own or possess. 
 
 75, 76. In the time of night and negligence ; a very common 
 form of expression. Timorous was sometimes used, as fearful 
 still is. for that which frightens. Old dictionaries explain it, 
 " fearful, horridus, formidolosus." 
 
 106. My house is not a grange: Mine is not a lone house. 
 where a robbery might easily be committed. Grange is, strictly, 
 the farm of a monastery ; but, provincially, any lone house or soli- 
 tary farm is called a grange. So in Measure for Measure, III. i. 
 274, 275: "There, at the moated grange, resides this dejected 
 Mariana." 
 
 114. A gennet is a horse; strictly a Spanish horse of the breed 
 called barbs, introduced into Spain by the Moors from Barbary. 
 Germans, meaning brothers, sisters, or cousins, is here used for 
 any near relations. 
 
 126. gondolier : A writer in the Pictorial Shakspcrc tells us, 
 " that the gondoliers are the only conveyors of persons, and of a 
 large proportion of property, in Venice ; that they are thus 
 cognizant of all intrigues, and the fittest agents in them, and are 
 under perpetual and strong temptations to make profit of the 
 
 170
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Notes 
 
 secrets of society. Brabantio might well be in horror at his. 
 daughter having, in ' the dull watch o' the night, no worse nor 
 better guard.' " 
 
 132. from : Against or opposed to. 
 
 137. In an extravagant and wheeling stranger: A stranger who 
 has no fixed abode, whose life is irregular. So in Markham's 
 English Housewife, " The Sewer upon the placing them [certain 
 dishes] upon the table shall not set them down as he received 
 them, but setting the Sallets extravagantly about the table," etc., 
 Ed. 1653; and in Hamlet, I. i. 154, 155, "The extravagant and 
 erring spirit hies to his confine." So lago, Sc. iii., 362, 363, of 
 this Act calls Othello an " erring barbarian." 
 
 143. not unlike my dream: "The careful old senator," says 
 Coleridge, " being caught careless, transfers his caution to his 
 dreaming-power at least." 
 
 159. The Sagittary is supposed by some commentators to have 
 been some public house or inn with a figure of the Archer, after 
 Sagittarius, ninth sign of the zodiac, for the sign of the house 
 itself. Perhaps Shakespeare knew at Venice an inn so called. 
 
 182. at most: That is, at most of the houses. 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 2. stuff o' the conscience : A point or matter of conscience. 
 
 8. lago is speaking of Roderigo, and pretending to relate what 
 he has done and said against Othello. 
 
 22. men of royal siege : Men who have sat on kingly thrones. 
 Siege was often thus used for seat. 
 
 22, 23. my demerits may speak unbonncted, etc. : Shakespeare 
 and his contemporaries use demerits to express both the presence 
 and the absence of merit. See an instance of the former in Mac- 
 beth, IV. iii., and of the latter in Coriolanus, I. i. Unbonneted 
 can only mean without the bonnet ; which sense, as the uncovering 
 of the head is a sign of deference, seems at variance with the 
 manifest purpose of Othello's speech. Yet there does not appear 
 to be sufficient reason for us to assume that there is corruption. 
 Theobald would have read, " may speak and bonneted." 
 
 28. the sea's worth : Pliny, the naturalist, has a chapter on the 
 riches of the sea. The expression seems to have been proverbial. 
 
 59. There seems to be a sort of playful, good-humoured irony 
 expressed in the very rhythm of this line. Throughout this Scene,
 
 Notes TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 Othello appears at all points " the noble nature, whose solid virtue 
 the shot of accident, nor dart of chance, could neither graze, nor 
 pierce "; his calmness and intrepidity of soul, his heroic modesty, 
 his manly frankness and considerative firmness of disposition are 
 all displayed at great advantage, marking his character as one 
 made up of the most solid and gentle qualities. Though he has 
 nowise wronged Brabantio, he knows that he seems to have done 
 so: his feelings therefore take the old man's part, and he respects 
 his age and sorrow too much to resent his violence ; hears his 
 charges with a kind of reverential defiance, and answers them as 
 knowing them false, yet sensible of their reasonableness, and hon- 
 ouring him the more for making them. 
 
 68. In Shakespeare's time it was the fashion for lusty gallants 
 to wear " a curled bush of frizzled hair." In King Lear, Edgar, 
 when he was " proud in heart and mind," curled his hair. The 
 Poet has other allusions to the custom among people of rank and 
 fashion. 
 
 99. Pagan was a word of contempt ; and the reason will appear 
 from its etymology : " Paganus. villanus vel incultus. Et deriva- 
 tur a pagus, quod est villa. Et quicunque habitat in villa cst 
 paganus. Praetera quicunque est extra civitatem Dei. i. e., eccle- 
 siam. dicitur paganus. Anglice, a paynim." Ortus Vocabulorum, 
 1528. 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 23. That he may capture it with an easier conflict. 
 
 48, 49. employ you, etc. : It was part of the policy of the Vene- 
 tian state to employ strangers, and even Moors, in their wars. 
 " By lande they are served of straungers, both for generals, for 
 capitaines, and for all other men of warre, because theyr lawe 
 permitteth not any Venetian to be capitaine over an armie by 
 lande ; fearing, I thinke, Caesar's example." Thomas's History of 
 Italye. 
 
 67. bloody book of law. By the Venetian law the giving love- 
 potions was highly criminal, as appears in the Code Delia Promi-s- 
 sion del Malefico. 
 
 96. herself: Shakespeare, like other writers of his age, fre- 
 quently uses the personal instead of the neutral pronoun. 
 
 140. antres: Caverns; from antrum, Lat. Warburton observes 
 that Rymer ridicules this whole circumstance; and Shaftesbury 
 obliquely sneers at it. " Whoever," says Johnson, " ridicules this 
 
 172
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Notes 
 
 account of the progress of love, shows his ignorance not only of 
 history, but of nature and manners. It is no wonder that, in any 
 age, or in any nation, a lady, recluse, timorous, and delicate, 
 should desire to hear of events and scenes which she could never 
 see, and should admire the man who had endured dangers, and 
 performed actions, which, however great, were magnified by her 
 timidity.' 1 
 
 144, 145. Nothing excited more universal attention than the ac- 
 count brought by Sir Walter Raleigh, on his return from his cele- 
 brated voyage to Guiana in 1595, of the cannibals, amazons, and 
 especially of the nation, " whose heads do grow beneath their 
 shoulders." A short extract of the more wonderful passages was 
 also published in Latin and in several other languages in 1599, 
 adorned with copper-plates, representing these cannibals, ama- 
 zons, and headless people, etc. These extraordinary reports were 
 universally credited ; and Othello therefore assumes no other 
 character but what was very common among the celebrated com- 
 manders of the Poet's time. 
 
 155. not intentivcly: Intention and attention were once synony- 
 mous. " Intentivc, which listeneth well and is earnestly bent to a 
 thing," says Bullokar, in his Expositor, 1616. 
 
 163. such a man : A question has been raised whether the 
 meaning here is, that Desdernona wished such a man had been 
 made for her, or that she herself had been made such a man; 
 and several have insisted on the latter, lest the lady's delicacy 
 should be impeached. Her delicacy stands in need of no such 
 critical guardianship. 
 
 199. Let me speak as you yourself have spoken ; referring to 
 Brabantio's words, " I here do give thee that." etc. 
 
 202. This is expressed in a common proverbial form in Love's 
 Labour's Lost: " Past cure is still past care." 
 
 219. pierced through the ear: The wounded heart was healed 
 with words, pierced being used simply in the sense of reached or 
 penetrated. So in The Faerie Quccnc, vi. 9, 26 : 
 
 " Whyl'st thus he talkt, the Knight with greedy eare 
 Hong still upon his melting mouth attent ; 
 Whose sensefull words etnpiersi his hart so neare, 
 That he was wrapt with double ravishment." 
 
 Dyce quotes the First Part of Marlowe's Tamburlaine, I. 2: 
 
 " Nor thee nor them, thrice-noble Tamburlaine, 
 Shall want my heart to be zi'ith gladness pierc'd." 
 
 173
 
 Notes TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 249-251. That I did love . . . vvorld: So the Folio and the 
 Quarto of 1630: the Quarto of 1622 has scorn instead of storm. 
 Scorn will not cohere with violence, unless by making it express 
 a quality of Desdemona herself, not of her fortunes ; the sense in 
 that case being, " my downright violence of behaviour, and scorn 
 of fortune." She evidently means the violence and storm of for- 
 tunes which she has braved or encountered in marrying the Moor, 
 and not anything of a violent or scornful temper in herself. 
 
 293-295. Look to lier . . . her faith: "In real life," says 
 Coleridge, " how do we look back to little speeches as presenti- 
 mental of, or contrasted with, an affecting event ! Even so Shake- 
 speare, as secure of being read over and over, of becoming a fam- 
 ily friend, provides this passage for his readers, and leaves it to 
 them." 
 
 313. four times seven years: This clearly ascertains the age 
 of lago to be twenty-eight years ; though the general impres- 
 sion of him is that of a much older man. The Poet, no doubt, 
 had a wise purpose in making him so young, as it infers his viru- 
 lence of mind to be something innate and spontaneous, and not 
 superinduced by harsh experience of the world. Verplanck re- 
 marks upon it thus : " An old soldier of acknowledged merit, who, 
 after years of service, sees a young man like Cassio placed over 
 his head, has not a little to plead in justification of deep resent- 
 ment, and in excuse, though not in defence, of his revenge : such 
 a man may well brood over imaginary wrongs. The caustic sar- 
 casm and contemptuous estimate of mankind are at least pardon- 
 able in a soured and disappointed veteran. But in a young man 
 the revenge is more purely gratuitous, the hypocrisy, the knowl- 
 edge, the dexterous management of the worst and 'weakest parts 
 of human nature, the recklessness of moral feeling, even the 
 stern, bitter wit, intellectual and contemptuous, without any of the 
 gaiety of youth. are all precocious and peculiar; separating 
 lago from the ordinary sympathies of our nature, and investing 
 him with higher talent and blacker guilt." 
 
 336. 337- A sect is what the gardeners call a cutting. " This 
 speech," observes Coleridge, '' comprises the passionless character 
 of lago. It is all will in intellect ; and therefore he is here a bold 
 partisan of a truth, but yet of a truth converted into a falsehood 
 by the absence of all the necessary modifications caused by the 
 frail nature of man." 
 
 354, 355. Alluding, probably, to the ceratonia or carob, an ever- 
 green growing in the south of Europe, and bearing sweet black 
 
 174
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Notes 
 
 pods. Commerce had made the fruit well known in London, and 
 locust was the popular name for it. 
 
 396. IV ill do . . . well : That is. I will act as if I were cer- 
 tain of the fact. He holds me well is, he entertains a good opinion 
 of me. 
 
 ACT SECOND. 
 Scene I. 
 
 [A sea-port in Cyprus.] The principal seaport town of Cyprus 
 is Famagusta ; where there was formerly a strong fort and com- 
 modious haven, " neare which," says Knolles, " standeth an old 
 castle, with four towers after the ancient manner of building." 
 To this castle we find that Othello presently repairs. 
 
 13. There is implied a comparison of the " wind-shaked surge " 
 to the war-horse ; the Poet probably having in mind the passage 
 of Job : " Hast Thou given the horse strength ? Hast Thou 
 clothed his neck with thunder? " Knight remarks upon the place 
 thus : " The horse of Job is the war-horse, ' who swalloweth the 
 ground with fierceness and rage ' ; and when Shakespeare pictured 
 to himself his mane wildly streaming, ' when the quiver rattleth 
 against him, the glittering spear, and the shield,' he saw an image 
 of the fury of the ' wind-shaked surge,' and of its very form ; 
 and he painted it 'with high and monstrous mane.' " 
 
 14. bear: The constellation near the pole star. The next line 
 alludes to the star Arctophylax, which literally signifies the guard 
 of the bear. 
 
 26. Veronesa: This refers to the ship. It is true, the same 
 speaker has just called the ship "a noble ship of Venice " ; but 
 Verona was tributary to the Venetian state ; so that there is no 
 reason why she might not belong to Venice, and still take her 
 name from Verona. 
 
 39, 40. till we make the main . . . regard : Till sea and 
 sky blend and become indistinguishable to sight. On this passage 
 Coleridge remarks : " Observe in how many ways Othello is 
 made, first, our acquaintance, then our friend, then the object of 
 our anxiety, before the deeper interest is to be approached." 
 
 49. Of allowed and approved expertness. 
 
 64, 65. By the essential vesture of creation the Poet seems to 
 mean her outzvard form, which in the Merchant of Venice (V. i. 
 
 175
 
 Notes TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 64) he calls " this muddy vesture of decay." The meaning would 
 appear to be, " She is one who exceeds all description, and in real 
 beauty, or outward form, goes beyond the power of the inventive 
 pencil of the artist. Ben Jonson. in his Sejanus, I. i., says: 
 " No, Silius, we are no good inginers ; we want their fine arts." 
 Flecknoe, in 1664, speaking of painting, mentions " the stupendous 
 works of your great ingeniers." 
 
 70. Ensteep'd here means simply hid in the water, submerged ; 
 a frequent use of the word. Thus in The Faerie Quecne, 
 i. ii : 
 
 " Now gan the golden Phoebus for to steepe 
 His fierie face in billows of the west." 
 
 112. Saints in your injuries: "When you have a mind to do 
 injuries, you put on an air of sanctity." 
 
 144-148. " The sense," says Warburton, " is this: One that was 
 so conscious of her own merit, and of the authority her character 
 had with every one, that she durst call upon malice itself to vouch 
 for her. This was strong commendation. And the character only 
 of clearest virtue ; which could force malice, even against its 
 nature, to do justice." 
 
 156. To exchange a delicacy for coarser fare, the head being 
 the best part of the cod, the tail the worst of the salmon. 
 
 161. That is, to suckle children and keep the accounts of the 
 household. 
 
 184. fair warrior: Perhaps Othello intends a playful allusion 
 to the unwillingness Desdemona has expressed to be left behind, 
 a moth of peace, and he go to the war. Steevens, however, thinks 
 it was a term of endearment derived from the old French poets ; 
 as Ronsard, in his Sonnets, often calls the ladies guerrieres. 
 
 201-203. [Aside.} Coleridge pronounces lago " a being next to 
 devil, and only not quite devil." It is worth noting that Milton's 
 Satan relents at the prospect of ruining the happiness before him, 
 and prefaces the deed with a gush of pity for the victims ; whereas 
 the same thought puts lago in a transport of jubilant ferocity. Is 
 our idea of Satan's wickedness enhanced by his thus indulging 
 such feelings, and then acting in defiance of them, or as if he 
 had them not? or is lago more devilish than he? 
 
 208. out of fashion : Out of method, without any setttled or- 
 der of discourse. 
 
 223. Lay thy finger thus : On thy mouth to stop it, while thou 
 art listening to a wiser man. 
 
 176
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Notes 
 
 262, 263. index . . . prologue : Indexes were formerly pre- 
 fixed to books. 
 
 314. in the rank garb : In the right-down, or straight-forward 
 fashion. In King Lear, Cornwall says of Kent in disguise, that 
 he " doth affect a saucy roughness, and constrains the garb quite 
 from his nature." Gower says of Fluellen, in King Henry V ., 
 " You thought, because he could not speak English in the native 
 garb, he could not therefore handle an English cudgel." 
 
 320. " An honest man," says Johnson, " acts upon a plan, and 
 forecasts his designs ; but a knave depends upon temporary and 
 local opportunities, and never knows his own purpose, but at the 
 time of execution." 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 57. elements: As quarrelsome as the discordia semina rerum; 
 as quick in opposition as fire and water. 
 
 62. Every scheme subsisting only in the imagination may be 
 termed a dream. 
 
 80-83. In The Captain of Beaumont and Fletcher, one of the 
 persons asks, "Are the Englishmen such stubborn drinkers?" 
 and another answers thus : " Not a leak at sea can suck more 
 liquor: you shall have their children christened in mull'd sack, 
 and at five years old able to knock a Dane down." And in Henry 
 Peacham's Compleat Gentleman, 1622, we have the following: 
 " Within these fiftie or threescore yeares it was a rare thing with 
 us to see a drunken man. But since we had to doe in the quarrell 
 of the Netherlands, the custom of drinking and pledging healthes 
 was brought over into England ; wherein let the Dutch be their 
 owne judges, if we equall them not; yea, I think, rather excell 
 them." 
 
 85. / 'II do you justice : That is, drink as much as you do : 
 old pot-house slang. 
 
 87-94. These stanzas are copied, with a few slight variations, 
 from an old ballad entitled " Take thy old Cloak about thee," 
 which is reprinted entire in Percy's Reliqnes. 
 
 122, 123. How differently the liar speaks of Cassio's soldiership 
 to Mcntano and to Roderigo ! He is now talking where he is 
 liable to be called to account for his words. 
 
 130. If he have no drink, he will keep awake while the clock 
 strikes two rounds, or four-and-twenty hours. The word horo- 
 loge is familiar to most of our ancient writers: Chaucer often 
 uses it. 
 
 177
 
 Notes TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 252. Lead him off: Malone thought that these words were a 
 stage direction which had crept into the text, because " in our old 
 plays all the stage directions were couched in imperative terms." 
 " Such," says White, " is my opinion, and such it was before I 
 saw Malone's note, but for a different reason. If Othello had or- 
 dered the removal of Montano, he would have said, not ' Lead 
 him off,' but ' Lead him azvay.' We speak of a man's being or 
 having been led off, or on, in the sense of away, or onward ; but 
 when we direct a man to be taken from where we are, we say 
 ' away,' unless we are upon a staging, or some place of that kind, 
 which, for Shakespeare's purposes, Othello was not. The rhythm 
 of this command, too, is not like that of Shakespeare's hemistichs. 
 But as Folio and Quartos unite in the reading in question, I do 
 not venture to change it upon mere opinion." Rolfe retains this 
 reading. Hudson (Harvard ed.) omits it. 
 
 354. 355- Parallel course : Course parallel to or agreeing with 
 his good ; coinciding with his wish or design. 
 
 356. When devils will instigate to their blackest sins, they 
 tempt, etc. We repeatedly meet with the same use of put on, and 
 of suggests and its cognates for tempt. 
 
 382, 383. Though other things, etc. : Clarke's explanation is, 
 " Although our other plans are growing to maturity, yet the 
 fruits of our scheme for the removal of Cassio. as it first bore 
 promising blossom, will naturally first ripen. lago is trying to 
 inspire Roderigo with patience for the ripening of his plan against 
 Desdemona by bidding him remember that meanwhile his plan 
 against Cassio is succeeding." Johnson explains the passage thus : 
 " Of many different things, all planned with the same art and 
 promoted with the same diligence, some must succeed sooner than 
 others, by the order of nature. Everything cannot be done at 
 once; we must proceed by the necessary gradation. We are not 
 to despair of slow events any more than of tardy fruits, while the 
 causes are in regular progress, and the fruits grow fair against 
 the sun." 
 
 ACT THIRD. 
 Scene I. 
 
 2. It was usual for friends to serenade a new-married couple 
 on the morning after the celebration of the marriage, or to greet 
 them with a morning song to bid them good morrow. 
 
 178
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Notes 
 
 42. In consequence of this line a doubt has been entertained con- 
 cerning the country of lago. Cassio was undoubtedly a Floren- 
 tine, as appears by the first Scene of the play, where he is ex- 
 pressly called one. That lago was a Venetian is proved by a 
 speech in the third Scene of this Act, and by what he says in the 
 fifth Act, after having stabbed Roderigo. All that Cassio means 
 to say in the present passage is, " I never experienced more hon- 
 esty and kindness, even in one of my own countrymen." 
 
 44. your displeasure : The displeasure you have incurred from 
 Othello. 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 14 et seq. That policy, etc. : Johnson explains this as fol- 
 lows : He may either of himself think it politic to keep me out 
 of office so long, or he may be satisfied with such slight reasons, 
 or so many accidents may make him think my readmission at that 
 time improper, that I may be quite forgotten. 
 
 23. / '// watch him tame : Hawks and other birds are tamed 
 by keeping them from sleep. To this Shakespeare alludes. 
 
 90. The word wretch was a term of the fondest tenderness and 
 endearment. Shakespeare often uses it so. 
 
 91, 92. The meaning is, " Ere I cease to love thee, the world 
 itself shall be reduced to its primitive chaos." But is used in its 
 exceptive sense ; but that, or " if I do not love thee." 
 
 96. He did, etc. : In Act I. Sc. ii., when lago, speaking of the 
 Moor to Cassio, says, " He 's married," Cassio asks, " To whom? " 
 Yet here he seems to have known all about it. Of course the ex- 
 planation is, that Cassio there feigned ignorance, in order to keep 
 his friend's secret till it should be publicly known. 
 
 123. close delations : " Close delations " are secret accusings, 
 intimations. So in Ben Jonson's Volpone, II. iii. : " Yet, if I do 
 it not, they may delate my slackness to my patron." It should be 
 noted, that in all this part of the dialogue the doubts started in 
 Othello by the villain's artful insinuations have reference only to 
 Cassio. There is not the least sign that the Moor's thoughts any- 
 wise touch his wife ; and lago seeems perplexed that his sus- 
 picions have lighted elsewhere than he had intended. 
 
 136 et seq. Utter my thoughts, etc.: Who has so virtuous a 
 breast that some impure conceptions and uncharitable surmises 
 will not sometimes enter into it ; hold a session there, as in a 
 regular court, and " bench by the side " of authorized and lawful 
 
 179
 
 Notes TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 thoughts? A Icet is also called a law-day. " This court, in whose 
 manor soever kept, was accounted the king's court, and commonly 
 held every half year " : it was a meeting of the hundred " to cer- 
 tify the king of the good manners and government of the in- 
 habitants." 
 
 166, 167. the green-eyed monster, etc.: Hanmer changed mock 
 to make, and the change has been frequently adopted, among 
 other commentators, by Hudson. Schmidt conjectures that make 
 may be correct. Furness and Rolfe adhere to mock, the former 
 remarking: "The meat that jealousy feeds on is the victim of 
 jealousy, the jealous man, who is mocked with trifles light as 
 air." White says that jealousy " is fed by the objects of its open 
 scorn and derision. For we all know, as well as lago, that 
 the green-eyed monster is like Pistol, and if it ' can mock a leek.' 
 it ' can eat a leek.' Had the original text read make there could 
 have been no question as to its soundness. But both Folio and 
 Quarto have, -which doth mocke. The curious reader will find 
 five pages of comment upon this passage in the Variorum of 1821." 
 
 173. riches Uncless, etc.: Fineless is endless, unbounded. War- 
 burton observes that this is finely expressed winter producing 
 no fruits. 
 
 182. exsuffiicatc : This is the only known instance of exsuf- 
 nicatc. Phillips interprets sufflation " a puffing up, a making to 
 swell with blowing." In Platus we have " sufilavit nescio quid 
 uxore " ; which Cooper renders, " He hath whispered something 
 in his wifes eare whatsoever it be." Richardson's explanation is. 
 " Exsufflicate, in Shakespeare, is not improbably a misprint for 
 cxsufflate, that is, cfRate or eMatcd, puffed out, and, consequently 
 exaggerated, extravagant ; to which blown is added, not so much 
 for the sake of a second epithet, with a new meaning, as of giving 
 emphasis to the first." 
 
 249. You shall discover whether he thinks his best means, his 
 most powerful interest, is by the solicitation of your lady. 
 
 259,200. And knows . . . dealings: "He knows with a 
 learned spirit all qualities of human dealings." 
 
 260. Haggard is wild, unreclaimed ; commonly used of a hawk. 
 So in Sir Thomas Browne's Religio Medici : " Thus I teach my 
 haggard and unreclaimed reason to stoop to the lure of faith." 
 A passage in The White Devil, or Vittoria Corombona, 1612, 
 shows that the term was sometimes applied to a wanton : " Is this 
 your perch, you haggard? fly to the stews." 
 
 292. hundred: Here used for an indefinite number; still it 
 
 180
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Notes 
 
 shows that the unity of time is much less observed in this play 
 than some have supposed. Thus far only one night since that of 
 the marriage has been expressly accounted for ; and this was the 
 night when the nuptials were celebrated, and Cassio cashiered; 
 though several must have passed during the sea-voyage. From 
 lago's soliloquy at the close of Act I., it is clear he had his plot 
 even then so far matured, that he might often woo his wife to 
 steal the handkerchief while at sea. Moreover, we may well 
 enough suppose a considerable interval of time between the first 
 and third Scenes of the present Act; since Cassio may not have 
 had the interview with Desdemona immediately after he engaged 
 Emilia to solicit it for him. 
 
 296. ta'cn out : Meaning that she will have it copied. Her 
 first thoughts are to have a copy made of it for her husband, and 
 restore the original to Desdemona ; but the sudden coming in of 
 lago, in a surly humour, makes her alter her resolution. 
 
 330. Look, where he comes! "That is," explains Steevens. 
 " I knew the least touch of such a passion would not permit the 
 Moor a moment of repose; I have just said that jealousy is a 
 restless commotion of the mind ; and look, where Othello ap- 
 proaches, to confirm my observation." 
 
 350 et seq. There is some resemblance between this speech and 
 the following lines in Peek's Farewell to the Famous and For- 
 tunate Generals of our English Forces, 1589: 
 
 " Change love for armes ; gyrt to your blades, my boyes ; 
 Your rests and muskets take, take helme and targe, 
 And let god Mars his trumpet make you mirth, 
 The roaring cannon, and the brazen trumpe, 
 The angry-sounding drum, the whistling fife, 
 The shriekes of men, the princelie courser's ncy." 
 
 352. In mentioning the fife joined to the drum, Shakespeare, as 
 usual, paints from life ; those instruments, accompanying each 
 other, being used in his age by the English soldiery. The fife, 
 however, as a martial instrument, was afterwards discontinued 
 for many years, but at length revived by the British guards under 
 the Duke of Cumberland, when they were encamped before 
 Maestricht in 1747, and thence adopted into other English regi- 
 ments of infantry. 
 
 449,450. Swell . . . tongues! Swell, because the freight 
 thou art charged with is that of poison, as from the deadly bites 
 of asps. 
 
 181
 
 Notes TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 467-469. The meaning here, as explained by Mr. Joseph Crosby, 
 is: "Let him command whatever bloody work he may, to per- 
 form it shall be with me a matter of conscience." 
 
 Scene IV. 
 
 24. / know not: Objection has been made to the conduct of 
 Emilia in this scene, as inconsistent with the spirit she afterwards 
 shows. But it is not easy to discover any such inconsistency. 
 Want of principle and strength of attachment are often thus seen 
 united. Emilia loves her mistress deeply ; but she has no moral 
 repugnance to theft and falsehood, apprehends no fatal conse- 
 quences from the Moor's passion, and has no soul to conceive 
 the agony her mistress must suffer by the charge of infidelity ; and 
 it is but natural that when the result comes she should be the 
 more spirited for the very remembrance of her own guilty part 
 in the process. It is the seeing of the end that rouses such people, 
 and rouses them all the more that they themselves have served 
 as means. 
 
 26. crusadoes : It appears from Rider's Dictionary that there 
 were three sorts of crusadoes ; one with a long cross, one with a 
 short cross, and the great crusado of Portugal. They were of 
 gold, and differed in value from six shillings and eight pence to 
 nine shillings. 
 
 47. new heraldry : This " new heraldry " appears to be an al- 
 lusion to the bloody hand borne on the arms of the new order of 
 baronets, created by James I. in 1611. Malone, with much prob- 
 ability, quotes, in illustration of the text, the following from the 
 Essays of Sir William Cornwallis, 1601 : " We of these later 
 times, full of a nice curiositie, mislike all the performances of 
 our forefathers ; we say they were honest plaine men, but they 
 want the capering wits of this ripe age. They had wont to give 
 their hands and hearts together, but we think it a finer grace to 
 looke asquint, our hand looking one way and our heart another." 
 
 57. a charmer: Used for an enchanter in the Psalms. So in 
 Perkins's Discourse of the damned Art of Witchcraft, 1610: "By 
 witches we understand not only those which kill and torment, but 
 all charmers, jugglers, all wizards, commonly called wise men 
 and wise women." 
 
 65. To give it her: Of course her refers to the noun implied 
 in wive. In the last scene of the play, Othello speaks of the hand- 
 kerchief as " an antique token my father gave my mother." This 
 
 182
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Notes 
 
 has been thought an oversight; Steevens regards it as a fresh 
 proof of the Poet's art. " The first account," says he, " was pur- 
 posely ostentatious, in order to alarm his wife the more. When 
 he again mentions it, the truth was sufficient." 
 
 74. dyed in mummy : The balsamic liquor running from 
 mummies was formerly celebrated for its anti-epileptic virtues. 
 It was much coveted by painters, as a transparent brown colour 
 that threw a warmth into the shadows of a picture. 
 
 169. "What are you doing away from home?" We repeatedly 
 meet with the same phraseology in Shakespeare. 
 
 173. A week away : It would seem, by this, that seven days 
 at least have elapsed since Cassio was cashiered ; perhaps much 
 more, as the " leaden thoughts " may have been kept off for some 
 time by the hopes built upon Desdemona's promise of intercession, 
 and brought on again by the unexpected delay. 
 
 180. Take me this work out : Copy this work in another hand- 
 kerchief. So in Middleton's Women beware Women : " She in- 
 tends to take out other works in a new sampler." Again, in the 
 Preface to Holland's Pliny, 1601 : " Nicophanes gave his mind 
 wholly to antique pictures, partly to exemplify and take out pat- 
 terns, after that in long continuance of time they were decayed." 
 
 ACT FOURTH. 
 Scene I. 
 
 I. We must suppose that lago had been applying cases of false 
 comfort to Othello ; as that, though the parties had been even 
 found exchanging endearments, there might be no harm done : it 
 might be only for trial of their virtue. In these pretended excu- 
 sings lago seeks only to intensify the sufferings which he pro- 
 fesses to allay. 
 
 8. The devil tempts their -virtue by stirring up their passions, 
 and they tempt heaven by placing themselves in a situation which 
 makes it scarcely possible to avoid falling by the gratification of 
 them. Perhaps the story of St. Adhelm, related in Bale's Actes 
 of Englysh Votaries, is referred to: "This Adhelmus never re- 
 fused women, but wold have them commonly both at borde and 
 bedde, to mocke the Devyll with." 
 
 21,22. The raven was thought to be a bird of ill omen, given 
 to hovering about houses infected with the plague. 
 
 183
 
 Notes TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 28. Convinced : Having either conquered her reluctance or 
 complied with her wish. The proper meaning of convince is con- 
 quer or overcome. 
 
 41-43. Nature . . . instruction : This passage has called 
 forth much critical discussion. As suggested by Johnson, Othello 
 seems to say, " This passion, which spreads its clouds over me, 
 is the effect of some agency more than the operation of words : 
 it is one of those notices which men have of unseen calamities." 
 Or the sense may be given, as by Sir J. Reynolds, something thus : 
 " Nature would not in Cassio clothe herself in such shadowing 
 passion, or would not give out such adumbrations of passion, 
 without some former experience, or the instruction of some fore- 
 going fact." 
 
 45. " The starts," says Warburton, " and broken reflections in 
 this speech have something in them very terrible, and show the 
 mind of the speaker to be in inexpressible agonies." The trance 
 is thus justified by Sir J. Reynolds: "Othello, in broken sen- 
 tences and single words, all of which have a reference to the 
 cause of his jealousy, shows that all the proofs are present at 
 once to his mind, which so overpower it that he falls into a 
 trance the natural consequence." 
 
 69. Beds which really do not pertain to themselves alone ; beds 
 which are not peculiarly or specially their own, but are shared in 
 common with others. 
 
 121. Othello calls Cassio Roman ironically, probably in allusion 
 to his apparent elation, calling to Othello's mind the triumphs 
 or triumphant career of the Romans. 
 
 247, 248. If that the earth . . . crocodile : By the doctrine 
 of equivocal generation new animals were supposed producible 
 by new combinations of matter. Shakespeare here alludes to the 
 fabulous accounts which make the crocodile the most deceitful 
 of animals. In Bullokar's Expositor, 1616, occurs the following: 
 " It is written that he will weep over a man's head when he hath 
 devoured the body, and will then eat up the head too." Where- 
 fore in Latin there is a proverb, " Crocodili lachrymse. crocodiles 
 teares, to signifie such teares as are feigned, and spent only with 
 intent to deceive or do harm." 
 
 265. Goats and monkeys! In this exclamation Shakespeare has 
 shown great art. lago in Act III. Sc. iii., being urged to give 
 some ocular proof of the guilt of Cassio and Desdemona, tells 
 the Moor it were impossible to have ocular demonstration of it, 
 " were they as prime as goats, as hot as monkeys." These words 
 
 184
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Notes 
 
 still ring in the ears of Othello, who. being now fully convinced 
 of his wife's infidelity, explodes with this involuntary exclamation. 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 54,55. A fixed figure . . . finger at! Much has been writ- 
 ten upon this famous passage, and various changes proposed. 
 " The time of scorn " probably means, as Knight says, the age of 
 scorn, that is, the whole period during which scorn may be said 
 to live. The "fixed figure" is simply the speaker himself, and 
 not, as been so much supposed, a figure on a dial. As to " slow 
 unmoving," the sense of it can be better felt than expressed : we 
 can see the sneer darting from the inexorable finger, ever slowly 
 moving with the object, never moving from it; but we cannot 
 speak it in any words but Shakespeare's, as they stand in the text. 
 
 74. make very forges of my cheeks : Othello has already, when 
 with lago, spoken Desdemona's imputed deeds very plainly ; and 
 would Shakespeare have forgotten that Othello's cheeks were too 
 dark to show a blush? or still more, would he have referred the 
 blush in such a case to the countenance of the man when the 
 woman was present? In Titus Andronicus, IV. ii., Aaron, the 
 Moor, when Chiron says, " I blush to think upon this ignpmy " 
 (of his mother's having a mulatto child), replies: 
 
 " Why, there 's the privilege your beauty bears : 
 Fie, treacherous hue, that will betray with blushing 
 The close enacts and counsels of the heart ! 
 Here 's a young lad framed of another leer" 
 
 88. / cry you mercy : That is, " I ask your pardon." 
 91. The office opposed to Saint Peter; alluding, evidently, to 
 " the power of the keys," which was given to the Apostles gen- 
 erally, and especially to Saint Peter as representing them. So 
 that the opposition is between Emilia as keeper of the gate of 
 Hell and Saint Peter as keeper of the gate of Heaven. The sense, 
 therefore, requires that the special emphasis, if there be any, 
 should be laid on opposite. 
 
 104. go by water: Be expressed by tears. A similar conceit is 
 found in Hamlet, IV. vii. 186, 187 : 
 
 " Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia, 
 And therefore I forbid my tears." 
 
 185
 
 Notes TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 144. Speak within door: Do not clamour so as to be heard be- 
 yond the house. 
 
 167. he does chide with you: This was the phraseology of the 
 time. So Baret : " To complaine, to make a quarrel, to chide 
 with one for a thing. Expostulare et queri." So too in the Poet's 
 CXIth Sonnet: " O, for my sake do you with fortune chide.'' 
 
 212, 213. / grant . . . judgement: " Shakespeare," says Ma- 
 lone, " knew well that most men like to be flattered on account 
 of those endowments in which they are most deficient. Hence 
 lago's compliment to this snipe on his sagacity and shrewdness." 
 
 226. goes into Mauritania : This passage proves, so far as any- 
 thing said by lago may be believed, that Othello was not meant 
 to be a negro, as has been represented, both on the stage and off, 
 but a veritable Moor. His kindred, the Mauritanians from 
 whose " men of royal siege he fetched his life and being," and 
 among whom he was about to retire though apt enough to be 
 confounded with the negroes, were as different from them, ex- 
 ternally, as brown is from black; internally, in mind and char- 
 acter, the difference was far greater. 
 
 236. He sups to-night with a harlotry : See " a peevish self- 
 will'd harlotry," i King Henry IV ., III. i., and the very same 
 phrase in Romeo and Juliet, IV. ii. 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 ii. Hazlitt calls this "one of those side intimations of the fluc- 
 tuations of passion, which we seldom meet with but in Shake- 
 speare. He has here put into half a line what some authors would 
 have spun out into ten set speeches." 
 
 55~57- [Singing.] These lines sung by Desdemona are from an 
 old ballad, entitled A Lover's Complaint, being forsaken of his 
 Love. The ballad may be found entire in Percy's Reliqucs. It is 
 there the lament of a man : Shakespeare adapted it to the sex of 
 " poor Barbara." Subjoined are the stanzas from which he bor- 
 rowed : 
 
 A poore soule sat sighing under a sicamore tree; 
 
 O willow, willow, willow ! 
 With his hand on his bosom, his head on his knee: 
 
 O willow, willow, willow ! 
 Sing, O the greene willow shall be my garland. 
 
 186
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Notes 
 
 The cold streams ran by him, his eyes wept apace ; 
 
 O willow, willow, willow ! 
 The salt tears fell from him, which drowned his face : 
 
 O willow, willow, willow ! 
 Sing, O the greene willow shall be my garland. 
 
 The mute birds sat by him, made tame by his mones ; 
 
 O willow, willow, willow ! 
 The salt tears fell from him, which soften'd the stones : 
 
 O willow, willow, willow ! 
 Sing, O the greene willow shall be my garland. 
 
 Let nobody blame me, her scorns I do prove ; 
 
 O willow, willow, willow ! 
 She was borne to be faire ; I to die for her love : 
 
 O willow, willow, willow ! 
 Sing, O the greene willow shall be my garland. 
 
 73. A joint-ring was anciently a token of troth-plight between 
 lovers, like the piece of broken gold in the Bride of Lammermoor. 
 Dryden has a minute description of it in his Don Sebastian : 
 
 " A curious artist wrought them 
 With joints so close as not to be perceiv'd; 
 Yet are they both each other's counterpart : 
 Her part had Juan inscrib'd, and his had Zayda. 
 (You know these names are theirs,) and in the midst 
 A heart divided in two halves was plac'd. 
 Now, if the rivets of those rings enclos'd 
 Fit not each other, I have forg'd this lie ; 
 But, if they join, you must for ever part." 
 
 ACT FIFTH. 
 Scene I. 
 
 II. A quat, in provincial usage, was a pimple, which by rubbing 
 could be made to smart. Roderigo is called a quat in the same 
 manner that a low fellow was vulgarly termed a scab. To rub to 
 the sense is to rub to the quick.
 
 Notes TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO. 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 r. Othello's act is caused by her supposed crime. Herein alone 
 he finds his self-justification. 
 
 2. Steevens declares that there is " no classical authority " for 
 chaste stars. But Othello has authority as good, perhaps, as 
 classical, in the supposed unchastity of his wife, which is the 
 cause of his present purpose, and which the purity of the stars 
 withholds him from naming in their presence. No classical au- 
 thority ! The phrase itself is classical now. 
 
 21. this sorrow 's heavenly : Is of heavenward tendency. 
 
 65. A murder, etc. : Some editors have managed to stumble 
 at this passage. The language is indeed compressed, but the 
 meaning seems clear enough. Othello goes about the killing of 
 his wife as an act of religion, and he fears lest her perjury may 
 excite his anger, and so corrupt the deed into an act of revenge. 
 This is Johnson's explanation : " Thou hardencst my heart, and 
 makest me kill thee with the rage of a murderer, when I thought 
 to have sacrificed thee to justice with the calmness of a priest 
 striking a victim." 
 
 82. Being done, etc. : Othello regards the act as done, when 
 the conflict between his love and honour is fully over, his resolu- 
 tion finally taken, and his hand raised to strike. To admit any 
 pause in such a case, were but to prolong the suffering of the 
 victim. 
 
 88. So, so : At these words, the Othello of the stage is made to 
 stab Desdemona. There is no such direction in any of the old 
 copies; but still the stage-custom may be right; as, in the agony 
 of the moment, and in his desire " not to have her linger in her 
 pain," Othello's resolution not to shed her blood might be over- 
 come. It seems more natural, too, that Desdemona should speak 
 after being stabbed than after being smothered to death. 
 
 183. charm your tongue : To charm is to still or hush as with 
 a charm. Pliny informs us that favete linguis was the constant 
 exclamation before any charm was applied. From this circum- 
 stance the phrase to charm a tongue, may have originated. 
 
 192. / thought so then : That is, when she gave Desdemona' s 
 handkerchief to lago ; for even then Emilia appears to have sus- 
 pected it was sought after for no honest purpose. 
 
 212. A thousand times : An indefinite number. See a hundred 
 times, III. iii. 292. 
 
 239. Strictly speaking, lago cannot be called a notorious vil- 
 
 188
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Notes 
 
 lain, as his villainy was not known. The meaning is egregious, 
 as in IV. ii. 140. 
 
 253. The way of tempering steel is by plunging it red-hot into 
 cold water; and the colder the water, the higher the temper at- 
 tained. Steevens has shown from Martial and Justin that in 
 Spain the waters of the Salo and the Chalybes, being remarkable 
 for coldness, were used in tempering swords. As Toledo blades 
 were famous all over Europe in the Poet's time, he might easily 
 learn that they were of the ice-brook's temper without going to 
 classical authorities. 
 
 286. / look down towards his feet: Alluding to the devil's 
 fabled cloven foot. Othello looks down towards lago's feet to 
 see if he has that sign of being a devil, but then concludes that 
 he may be just as much a devil without it. 
 
 347. Coleridge remarks upon this passage : " Othello wishes to 
 excuse himself on the score of ignorance, and yet not excuse him- 
 self to excuse himself by accusing. This struggle of feeling is 
 finely conveyed in the word base, which is applied to the rude 
 Indian, not in his own character, but as the momentary represen- 
 tative of Othello's." Whether Shakespeare meant an allusion to 
 any particular story of an Indian, or to the Indians as generally 
 described, is not quite clear; probably, the latter. Thus in Dray- 
 ton's Legend of Matilda : " The wretched Indian spumes the 
 golden ore." So again in The Woman's Conquest, by Sir Ed- 
 ward Howard : " Behold my queen, who with no more concern 
 He cast away then Indians do a pearl, that ne'er did know its 
 value." 
 
 352. Aleppo : It is said to have been immediate death for a 
 Christian to strike a Turk in Aleppo. 
 
 361. Spartan dog: The dogs of Spartan breed were among the 
 most fierce and savage. 
 
 189
 
 TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 Questions on Othello. 
 
 1. What is known of the early editions of Othello ; of the date 
 of its composition? 
 
 2. What can you say of the original stage Othello ; of the 
 sources of the plot? 
 
 3. What is the duration of action in this play? 
 
 ACT FIRST. 
 
 4. How was Venice ruled at the time of the play; what was 
 the office of Duke of Venice; that of Senator? 
 
 5. What was the Council of State; why had it been convened? 
 
 6. What of the Cyprus wars to which lago refers ; what was the 
 Sagittary? (About 1470 Cyprus, the scene of the entire action of 
 Othello, was annexed to Venice, and it continued under Venetian 
 rule until about 1571.) 
 
 7. Where does lago first make known his hatred of Othello ; 
 what cause was there for that hatred, as shown by lago? 
 
 8. What impression is made by lago's estimate of himself? 
 
 9. How account for Othello's influence over Desdemona ; for 
 Brabantio's reference of Desdemona's submission to Othello to 
 witchcraft ? 
 
 TO. Describe Shakespeare's general treatment of witchcraft; 
 how far does it reflect the superstitious mind of his age? 
 
 n. Does the character of Roderigo include the sense of honour; 
 what led him to hate Othello? 
 
 12. Why should Othello speak in the same passage of the Can- 
 nibals and the Anthropophagi? 
 
 13. With a timorous disposition, as appears later, how does 
 Desdemona in this Act speak for herself so boldly? 
 
 14. Was Othello a negro? What answer to this is suggested by 
 his calling himself (III. iii. 263, 387) black? What do we know 
 of the Moors of that day? 
 
 15. Give a brief summary of the characters and action of Act I. 
 
 190
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Questions 
 
 ACT SECOND. 
 
 16. What are the conditions under which this Act opens? 
 
 17. What purpose is served by introducing the Turkish fleet 
 and its destruction? 
 
 18. At first impression, what sort of a man is Cassio? 
 
 19. When lago, in the soliloquy which ends Sc. iii , declares 
 Othello to be of a constant, loving, noble nature, does lago show 
 that he is capable of compunction? 
 
 20. Interpret this soliloquy as a whole. 
 
 21. What does Cassio think of drunkenness? Relate his expe- 
 rience of it. How are we affected by his repentance? 
 
 22. How do you regard lago's account to Othello of the in- 
 cidents following Cassio's indiscretion? 
 
 23. What part does lago wish Cassio to play ; what part Ro- 
 derigo ? 
 
 24. How in this Act does lago treat Roderigo; why? 
 
 25. Analyze the closing lines of Sc. iii. 
 
 26. What performance follows the purpose here outlined by 
 lago? 
 
 27. How does Desdemona impress Cassio? 
 
 28. Give a brief summary of Act II. 
 
 ACT THIRD. 
 
 29. Interpret the opening of the Act Clown, musicians, etc. 
 
 30. What does the Clown mean by his question about the in- 
 struments having been in Naples? 
 
 31. What tragic sequence does this light action prelude? 
 
 32. Outline the character of Emilia. 
 
 33. Did she understand her husband? 
 
 34. Do you gain any definite idea from lago's speech to Othello 
 (Sc. iii. 144-154) ; what does Othello understand from it? 
 
 35. What is the meaning of this (Sc. iii. 165-167) ? 
 
 " O, beware, my lord, of jealousy ; 
 It is the green-eyed monste*-, which doth mock 
 The meat it feeds on." 
 
 36. Was Othello justified in attaching such weight to the words 
 of lago beginning, She did deceive her father, marrying you? 
 Was Desdemona's conduct in the matter cited reprehensible? 
 
 191
 
 Questions TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, 
 
 37. Upon what does Othello base his opinion of lago's honesty? 
 
 38. How does lago so completely befool Othello? 
 
 39. What wrong directions does Othello's revenge take? 
 
 40. How does Desdemona apprehend the feeling of jealousy; 
 how does she regard the jealousy of Othello? 
 
 41. What of Desdemona's behaviour under Othello's suspicion? 
 
 42. Does Emilia's obedience to her husband after he has 
 snatched the handkerchief from her seem out of keeping with 
 her character? 
 
 43. Up to the end of this Act, how does the character of Des- 
 demona impress you ; that of Emilia ? 
 
 44. What new influence appears with the introduction of 
 Bianca ; how does she show the effect of jealousy? What new 
 light does her appearance throw upon Cassio? 
 
 45. How much does Act III. advance the action of the play? 
 
 ACT FOURTH. 
 
 46. Describe the increased efforts of lago to work upon the 
 jealousy and anger of Othello. 
 
 47. Does lago here exhibit any trace of human pity or feeling? 
 
 48. Does any other great character of Shakespeare approach 
 lago in heartlessness and diabolic spirit? 
 
 49. How are the sorrow and compassion of Othello portrayed 
 in Sc. i. ? 
 
 50. How is shown the lowest depth of lago's devilish perfidy? 
 
 51. Explain (Sc. i. 248) Each drop she falls would prove a 
 crocodile. 
 
 52. Does Emilia betray any suspicion of her husband when she 
 says (Sc. ii. 130-133), / will be hanged, etc.? 
 
 53. Is Desdemona's song essential to the action of the drama ; 
 what is its artistic or dramatic purpose; what similar incident in 
 Shakespeare does it recall? 
 
 54. How does Othello at first intend to kill Desdemona; what 
 other means does lago suggest, and why? 
 
 55. How does Desdemona receive Othello's accusation against 
 her ; how does Emilia treat it ? 
 
 56. Does lago deceive others as completely as he does Othello? 
 
 57. What relation does Act IV. bear to the main action of the 
 play? 
 
 192
 
 THE MOOR OF VENICE Questions 
 
 ACT FIFTH. 
 
 58. How would the death of Cassio or Roderigo further the 
 ends of lago? 
 
 59. What does Roderigo's confession in view of death show as 
 to his character? 
 
 60. By what means does lago still forward his schemes? 
 
 61. What is Othello's mental condition during most of this Act? 
 How does he justify himself in killing Desdemona? 
 
 62. Does Desdemona at last see that she. and Othello have both 
 been betrayed? 
 
 63. How does Desdemona face Othello's final determination to 
 kill her; why does she beg for half an hour of grace? 
 
 64. How account for the fact that Desdemona died with a false- 
 hood on her lips ; was it an intentional falsehood, a mistake, or 
 the result of a confused mind? 
 
 65. When Othello learns that Desdemona was innocent, how 
 does he act? 
 
 66. Explain (Sc. ii. 7) Put out the light, and then put out the 
 light. 
 
 67. What is the allusion in line 347: Like the base Indian, 
 threw a pearl away? 
 
 68. Explain lago's last speech in the play. 
 
 69. What is shown by comparing Desdemona and Emilia? 
 
 70. Is this play marked by Shakespeare's usual breadth of 
 treatment ? 
 
 71. What is the purpose of soliloquy in the modern drama; has 
 it any relation to the chorus of ancient drama? 
 
 72. Describe the purpose and effect of lago's soliloquy at the 
 end of Act I. 
 
 73. Does any other character of Shakespeare's soliloquize as 
 much as lago? 
 
 74. Could the subtle and wicked spirit and purposes of lago so 
 well be made known in any other manner? 
 
 75. How were love and marriage regarded by Othello ; by Des- 
 demona ; by lago ; by Emilia ? 
 
 76. Compare these characters in any respect to others in Shake- 
 speare. 
 
 77. Interpret Shakespeare's contrasting of humour and tragedy, 
 as in Act III., at its beginning, and at the opening of Sc. iv. ;
 
 Questions 
 
 with what scene of Hamlet may it be compared in respect of 
 dramatic purpose? 
 
 78. In view of his character, what value has lago's estimate of 
 good name? 
 
 79. In the mouth of villainy has the praise of virtue any ethical 
 significance? 
 
 80. What is the secret power by which a man like lago makes 
 even innocent persons, as well as circumstances, conspire to 
 serve his evil purposes ? 
 
 81. Is the source of_ lago's influence over Othello more to be 
 seen in lago's own complex and diabolical genius or in Othello's 
 simplicity of nature? 
 
 82. What is the ethical import of this play as dealing with love, 
 jealousy, hate, revenge, etc.? 
 
 83. Does good here seem to be vanquished and evil prospered ; 
 is the influence of the play on the side of pessimism or of opti- 
 mism ? 
 
 84. Indicate the usual contrasts between the jealousies of noble 
 souls and those of base. 
 
 85. Is there anywhere a better portrayal of such contrasts as 
 appear between Othello and lago than in this play? 
 
 86. What is to be said of the art whereby Shakespeare makes 
 the Moor so admirable, notwithstanding his limitations, and even 
 renders lago fascinating in spite of all his " inscrutable de- 
 pravity " ? 
 
 194
 
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