148 What safe and nicely I might well delay This sword of mine shall give them instant way, How have you known the miseries of your father? Edg. By nursing them, my lord. List a brief tale; And, when 'tis told, O! that my heart would burst, 184 The bloody proclamation to escape That follow'd me so near,-O! our lives' sweet ness, Whilst I was big in clamour came there a man, The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices 172 His grief grew puissant, and the strings of life Make instruments to plague us: Began to crack: twice then the trumpet sounded, And there I left him tranc'd. Alb. Follow'd his enemy king, and did him service Enter a Gentleman, with a bloody knife. Gent. Help, help! O help! J Kent. To bid my king and master aye good-night; Is he not here? 236 Kent. Is this the promis'd end? 265 Kent. [Kneeling.] O, my good master! Edg. 'Tis noble Kent, your friend. Lear. A plague upon you, murderers, traitors all! I might have sav'd her; now, she's gone for ever! Did I not, fellow? I have seen the day, with my good biting falchion 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. 281 Kent. If fortune brag of two she lov'd and hated, One of them we behold. Lear. This is a dull sight. Are you not Kent? Kent. The same, 284 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 me To hang Cordelia in the prison, and To lay the blame upon her own despair, That she fordid herself. 256 MONTANO, Othello's predecessor in the Govern- Sailor, Officers, Gentlemen, Messengers, Music ment of Cyprus. ians, Heralds, Attendants. SCENE. For the first Act, in Venice; during the rest of the Play, at a Sea-Port in Cyprus. In personal suit to make me his lieutenant, Nonsuits my mediators; for, 'Certes,' says he, 16 Forsooth, a great arithmetician, A fellow almost damn'd in a fair wife; Rod. By heaven, I rather would have been his hangman. Iago. Why, there's no remedy: 'tis the curse of the service, 36 Preferment goes by letter and affection, Whe'r I in any just term am affin'd Rod. 44 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 20 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; 48 25 Whip me such honest knaves. Others there are More than a spinster; unless the bookish theoric, 56 60 And such a one do I profess myself. For, sir, If he can carry 't thus! Iago. 64 Call up her father; 67 Rouse him, make after him, poison his delight, Proclaim him in the streets, incense her kins Awake the snorting citizens with the bell, Bra. What! have you lost your wits? 92 Rod. Most reverend signior, do you know my voice? Bra. Not I, what are you? Rod. My name is Roderigo. The worser welcome: But thou must needs be sure My spirit and my place have in them power Patience, good sir. 104 Bra. What tell'st thou me of robbing? this is Venice; My house is not a grange. 107 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. 114 Bra. This thou shalt answer; I know thee, Roderigo. 120 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, 124 Transported with no worse nor better guard But with a knave of common hire, a gondolier, To the gross clasps of a lascivious Moor,- 127 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, 132 I thus would play and trifle with your reverence: Your daughter, if you have not given her leave, |