The Plays of Shakespeare ; The Text Regulated by the Old Copies, and by the Recently Discovered Folio of 1632, Containing Early Manuscript Emendations

For I am almost ready to dissolve, Hearing of this.

Edg.

This would have seem'd a period
To such as love not sorrow; but another,
To amplify too-much, would make much more,
And top extremity.

Whilst I was big in clamour, came there a man,
Who, having seen me in my worst estate,
Shunn'd my abhorr'd society; but then, finding
Who 'twas that so endur'd, with his strong arms
He fasten'd on my neck, and bellow'd out
As he'd burst heaven; threw me on my father;
Told the most piteous tale of Lear and him,
That ever ear receiv'd; which in recounting,
His grief grew puissant, and the strings of life
Began to crack; twice, then, the trumpets sounded,
And there I left him tranc'd.

Edg. What means that bloody knife? Gent. 'Tis hot, it smokes ; It came even from the heart of-O! she's dead: Alb. Who dead? speak, man.

Gent. Your lady, sir, your lady: and her sister By her is poisoned; she hath confess'd it.

Edm. I was contracted to them both all three Now marry in an instant.

Alb. Produce the bodies, be they alive or dead!—

This judgment of the heavens, that makes us tremble, [Exit Gentleman.

Touches us not with pity.

Alb.

Great thing of us forgot!

To lay the blame upon her own despair, That she fordid herself.

Alb. The gods defend her! Bear him hence awhile. [EDMUND is borne off. Enter LEAR with CORDELIA dead in his Arms; EDGAR, Officer, and others.

Lear. Howl, howl, howl, howl!-O! you are men of stones;

Had I your tongues and eyes, I'd use them so
That heaven's vault should crack.-She's gone for

ever.

I have seen the day, with my good biting faulchion
I would have made them skip: I am old now,
And these same crosses spoil me.-Who are you?

Mine eyes are not o' the best: I'll tell you straight.

Kent. If fortune brag of two she lov'd and hated, One of them we behold.

Lear. This is a dull light :-are you not Kent? Kent. The same, Your servant Kent. Where is your servant Caius? Lear. He's a good fellow, I can tell you that; He'll strike, and quickly too.-He's dead and rotten. Kent. No, my good lord; I am the very manLear. I'll see that straight.

Kent. That from your first of difference and decay, Speak, Edmund, where's the king? and where's Cor- Have follow'd your sad steps. delia?Lear. You are welcome hither. Kent. Nor no man else. All's cheerless, dark, and deadly:

Seest thou this object, Kent?

[The Bodies of GONERIL and REGAN are brought in. Kent. Alack! why thus? Edm.

Yet Edmund was belov'd:

The one the other poison'd for my sake,
And after slew herself.

Alb. Even so.-Cover their faces.

Edm. I pant for life :-some good I mean to do, Despite of mine own nature. Quickly send,Be brief in it,-to the castle; for my writ Is on the life of Lear, and on Cordelia.Nay, send in time.

Alb.

Run, run! O, run!

Your eldest daughters have fordone themselves, And desperately are dead.

Lear.

Alb. He knows not what That we present us to him. Edg.

Ay, so I think.

he says; and vain is it,

Very bootless. Enter an Officer.

That's but a trifle here.-
You lords, and noble friends, know our intent.
What comfort to this great decay may come,

Edg. To whom, my lord?-Who has the office? send Shall be applied: for us, we will resign,
Thy token of reprieve.

Edm. Well thought on: take my sword,

Give it the captain.

Alb. Haste thee, for thy life. [Exit EDGAR. Edm. He hath commission from thy wife and me To hang Cordelia in the prison, and

During the life of this old majesty,
To him our absolute power.-To you your rights,
[To EDGAR and KENT.
With boot, and such addition, as your honours
Have more than merited.-All friends shall taste
The wages of their virtue, and all foes

Stretch him out longer.

Edg. He is gone, indeed. Kent. The wonder is, he hath endur'd so long: He but usurp'd his life.

Alb. Bear them from hence. Our present business Is general woe.-Friends of my soul, you twain [To KENT and EDGAR. Rule in this realm, and the gor'd state sustain. Kent. I have a journey, sir, shortly to go: My master calls me; I must not say, no.

Alb. The weight of this sad time we must obey; Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say. The oldest hath borne most: we, that are young, Shall never see so much, nor live so long.

[Exeunt, with a dead March.

Officers, Gentlemen, Messengers, Musicians, Sailors, Attendants, &c.

SCENE, for the first Act, in Venice; during the rest of the Play, at a Sea-Port in Cyprus.

ACT I.

SCENE 1.-Venice. A Street.
Enter RODERIGO in choler, and IAGO.
Rod. Tush! never tell me, I take it much unkindly,
That thou, Iago, who hast had my purse,
As if the strings were thine, should'st know of this.
Iago. '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.

Iago. 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,

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,

Rod. By heaven, I rather would have been his hangman.

Iago. But there's no remedy: 'tis the curse of
service,

Preferment goes by favour and affection,
Not by the old gradation, where each second
Stood heir t' the first. Now, sir, be judge yourself,
Whether I in any just terms am affin'd
To love the Moor.

Rod.

I would not follow him, then.
Iago. O, sir! content you;

I follow him to serve my turn upon him:
We cannot all be masters, nor all masters
Cannot be truly follow'd. You shall mark
Many a duteous and knee-crooking knave,
That, doting on his own obsequious bondage,
Wears out his time, much like his master's ass,
For nought but provender; and when he's old, cashier'd:
Whip me such honest knaves. Others there are,
Who, learn'd in forms and usages of duty,

"I have already chose my officer." And what was he? Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves,

Forsooth, a great arithmetician,

One Michael Cassio, a Florentine,

A fellow almost damn'd in a fair wife;

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 th' 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:
He, in good time, must his lieutenant be,

And I, God bless the mark! his Moor-ship's ancient.

And, throwing but shows of service on their lords,
Do well thrive by them; and when they have lin'd

their coats,

Do themselves homage: these fellows have some soul;
And such a one do I profess myself. For, sir,

It is as sure as you are Roderigo,

Were I the Moor, I would not be Iago:
In following him, I follow but myself;
Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty,
But seeming so, for my peculiar end:
For when my outward action doth demonstrate
The native act and figure of my heart
In compliment extern, 'tis not long after
But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve
For daws to peck at: I am not what I am.

Rod. What a full fortune does the thick-lips owe, If he can carry't thus!

Iago. 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, 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'll call aloud. Iago. Do; with like clamorous accent, and dire yell, As when, by night and negligence, the fire Is spied in populous cities.

Rod. What ho! Brabantio! signior Brabantio, ho! Iago. Awake! what, ho! Brabantio! thieves! thieves!

thieves!

Bra.

(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,
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,
Laying her duty, beauty, wit, and fortunes,
On an extravagant and wheedling 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
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!

Iago.

[Exit from above. Farewell, for I must leave you : It seems not meet, nor wholesome to my place, To be produc'd (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 (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,

But thou must needs be sure, Is nought but bitterness.-Now, Roderigo,

My spirit and my place have in them power

To make this bitter to thee.

Rod.

Patience, good sir.

Where didst thou see her?-O, unhappy girl!—
With the Moor, say'st thou ?-Who would be a
father?-

Bra. What tell'st thou me of robbing? this is How didst thou know 'twas she?-O! thou deceiv'st

Venice;

My house is not a grange.

Rod.

Most grave Brabantio, In simple and pure soul I come to you.

Iago. '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 ruffians, you'll have your daughter covered with a Barbary horse: you'll have your nephews neigh to you; you'll have coursers for cousins, and gennets for germans.

Bra. What profane wretch art thou?

Iago. I am one, sir, that comes to tell you, your daughter and the Moor are now making the beast with two backs.

Past thought. What 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 my blood!

Fathers, from hence trust not your daughters' minds
By what you see them act.-Are there not charms,
By which the property of youth and maidhood
May be abus'd? Have you not read, Roderigo,
Of some such thing?
Rod.
Yes, sir; I have, indeed.
Bra. Call up my brother.-O, that 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.
Bra. Pray you, lead on. At every house I'll call;
may command at most.-Get weapons, ho!

And raise some special officers of night.-
On, good Roderigo ;—I'll deserve your pains. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.-The Same. Another Street. Enter OTHELLO, IAGO, and Attendants, with Torches.

Iago. Though in the trade of war I have slain men,
Yet do I hold it very stuff o' the conscience
To do no contriv'd 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.
Iago.
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, sir,
Are you fast married? for, be sure of this,
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, or grievance,
The law (with all his might t' 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,
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, Iago,
But that I love the gentle Desdemona,
I would not my unhoused free condition
Put into circumscription and confine

For the sea's worth. But, look! what lights come yonder?

Iago. These are the raised father, and his friends: You were best go in.

Oth.

Not I; I must be found:
My parts, my title, and my perfect soul,
Shall manifest me rightly. Is it they?

Iago. 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?

Cas. 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 Have sent a dozen sequent messengers,

This very night, at one another's heels;

And many of the consuls, rais'd and met,

rust them.

Good signior, you shall more command with years, Than with your weapons.

Bra. O, thou foul thief! where hast thou stow'd my daughter?

Damn'd as thou art, thou hast enchanted her;
For I'll 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
Of such a thing as thou; to fear, not to delight.
Judge me the world, if 'tis not gross in sense,
That thou hast practis'd on her with foul charms;
Abus'd her delicate youth with drugs, or minerals,
That weaken motion.-I'll 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,
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,
To bear me to him?
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.

Are at the duke's already. You have been hotly call'd Mine's not an idle cause: the duke himself,

for;

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.

« Vorige Doorgaan »

Boeken

The Plays of Shakespeare ; The Text Regulated by the Old Copies, and by the ...