now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one now to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen? Now, get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favor she must come; make her laugh at that. Pr'ythee, Horatio, tell me one thing.

Hora. What's that, my lord?

Hamlet.

Dost thou think Alexander looked o' this fash

ion i' the earth?

Hora. E'en so.

Hamlet. And smelt so? pah!

Hora. E'en so, my lord.

[Takes and puts down the skull.

Hamlet. To what base uses we may return, Horatio! Why may not imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander, till he find it stopping a bung-hole!

Hora. 'Twere to consider too curiously, to consider so. Hamlet. No, faith, not a jot; but to follow him thither with modesty enough, and likelihood to lead it; as thus: Alexander died, Alexander was buried, Alexander returneth into dust; the dust is earth; of earth we make loam and why of that loam, whereto he was converted, might they not stop a beer-barrel?

Imperious Cæsar, dead, and turn'd to clay,
Might stop a hole to keep the wind away:
O! that that earth, which kept the world in awe,
Should patch a wall t' expel the winter's flaw!

Oth.

Bra.

OTHELLO

ACT I, SCENE 3-OTHELLO ON HIS MARRIAGE

SCENE: The Council-chamber at Venice.

Most potent, grave and reverend signiors,
My very noble and approv'd 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

Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my speech,
And little bless'd with the soft phrase of peace;
For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith,
Till now some nine moons wasted, they have us'd
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
patience,

I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver

Of my whole course of love; what drugs, what charms,

What conjuration and what mighty magic,

For such proceeding I am charg'd withal,
I won his daughter.

A maiden never bold;
Of spirit so still and quiet, that her motion
Blush'd at herself; I therefore vouch again
That with some mixtures powerful o'er the blood,

Duke.

Sen.

Oth.

Or with some dram conjur'd to this effect,
He wrought upon her.

To vouch this, is no proof,
Without more wider and more overt test
Than these thin habits and poor likelihoods
Of modern seeming do prefer against him.
But, Othello, speak:

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?

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.

And, till she come, as truly as to heaven,
I do confess the vices of my blood,

So justly to your grave ears I'll present
How I did thrive in this fair lady's love,
And she in mine.

Duke. Say it, Othello.

Oth. Her father lov'd me; oft invited me;

Still question'd me the story of my life,
From year to year, the battles, sieges, fortunes,
That I have pass'd.

I ran it through, ev'n from my boyish days,
To the very moment that he bade me tell it;
Wherein I spake of most disastrous chances,
Of moving accidents by flood and field,

Of hairbreadth '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,

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 despatch,

She'd come again and with a greedy ear

Devour up my discourse; which I observing,

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,

'Twas 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,

Bra.

Des.

Bra.

And bade me, if I had a friend that lov'd her,
I should but teach him how to tell my story,

And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake;
She lov'd me for the dangers I had pass'd;

And I lov'd her that she did pity them.
This only is the witchcraft I have used;
Here comes the lady; let her witness it.

Enter DESDEMONA and ATTENDANTS.

Come hither, gentle mistress;
Do you perceive, in all this noble company,
Where most you owe obedience?

My noble father,

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 showed
To you, preferring you before her father,
So much I challenge that I may profess
Due to the Moor my lord.

God be with you! I have done.