Chapter 175
Oth. Soft you; a word or two before you goe: I haue done the State some seruice, and they know't: No more of that. I pray you in your Letters, When you shall these vnluckie deeds relate, Speake of me, as I am. Nothing extenuate, Nor set downe ought in malice. Then must you speake, Of one that lou'd not wisely, but too well: Of one, not easily Iealious, but being wrought, Perplexed in the extreame: Of one, whose hand (Like the base Iudean) threw a Pearle away Richer then all his Tribe: Of one, whose subdu'd Eyes, Albeit vn-vsed to the melting moode, Drops teares as fast as the Arabian Trees Their Medicinable gumme. Set you downe this: And say besides, that in Aleppo once, Where a malignant, and a Turbond-Turke Beate a Venetian, and traduc'd the State, I tooke by th' throat the circumcised Dogge, And smoate him, thus
Lod. Oh bloody period
Gra. All that is spoke, is marr'd
Oth. I kist thee, ere I kill'd thee: No way but this, Killing my selfe, to dye vpon a kisse.
Dyes
Cas. This did I feare, but thought he had no weapon: For he was great of heart
Lod. Oh Sparton Dogge: More fell then Anguish, Hunger, or the Sea: Looke on the Tragicke Loading of this bed: This is thy worke: The Obiect poysons Sight, Let it be hid. Gratiano, keepe the house, And seize vpon the Fortunes of the Moore, For they succeede on you. To you, Lord Gouernor, Remaines the Censure of this hellish villaine: The Time, the Place, the Torture, oh inforce it: My selfe will straight aboord, and to the State, This heauie Act, with heauie heart relate.
Exeunt.
FINIS.
The Names of the Actors.
Othello, the Moore. Brabantio, Father to Desdemona. Cassio, an Honourable Lieutenant. Iago, a Villaine. Rodorigo, a gull'd Gentleman. Duke of Venice. Senators. Montano, Gouernour of Cyprus. Gentlemen of Cyprus. Lodouico, and Gratiano, two Noble Venetians. Saylors. Clowne. Desdemona, Wife to Othello. Aemilia, Wife to Iago. Bianca, a Curtezan.
THE TRAGEDIE OF Othello, the Moore of Venice.
The Tragedie of Anthonie, and Cleopatra
Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.
Enter Demetrius and Philo.
Philo. Nay, but this dotage of our Generals Ore-flowes the measure: those his goodly eyes That o're the Files and Musters of the Warre, Haue glow'd like plated Mars: Now bend, now turne The Office and Deuotion of their view Vpon a Tawny Front. His Captaines heart, Which in the scuffles of great Fights hath burst The Buckles on his brest, reneages all temper, And is become the Bellowes and the Fan To coole a Gypsies Lust.
Flourish. Enter Anthony, Cleopatra, her Ladies, the Traine, with Eunuchs fanning her.
Looke where they come: Take but good note, and you shall see in him (The triple Pillar of the world) transform'd Into a Strumpets Foole. Behold and see
Cleo. If it be Loue indeed, tell me how much
Ant. There's beggery in the loue that can be reckon'd Cleo. Ile set a bourne how farre to be belou'd
Ant. Then must thou needes finde out new Heauen, new Earth. Enter a Messenger.
Mes. Newes (my good Lord) from Rome
Ant. Grates me, the summe
Cleo. Nay heare them Anthony. Fuluia perchance is angry: Or who knowes, If the scarse-bearded Caesar haue not sent His powrefull Mandate to you. Do this, or this; Take in that Kingdome, and Infranchise that: Perform't, or else we damne thee
Ant. How, my Loue? Cleo. Perchance? Nay, and most like: You must not stay heere longer, your dismission Is come from Caesar, therefore heare it Anthony, Where's Fuluias Processe? (Caesars I would say) both? Call in the Messengers: As I am Egypts Queene, Thou blushest Anthony, and that blood of thine Is Caesars homager: else so thy cheeke payes shame, When shrill-tongu'd Fuluia scolds. The Messengers
Ant. Let Rome in Tyber melt, and the wide Arch Of the raing'd Empire fall: Heere is my space, Kingdomes are clay: Our dungie earth alike Feeds Beast as Man; the Noblenesse of life Is to do thus: when such a mutuall paire, And such a twaine can doo't, in which I binde One paine of punishment, the world to weete We stand vp Peerelesse
Cleo. Excellent falshood: Why did he marry Fuluia, and not loue her? Ile seeme the Foole I am not. Anthony will be himselfe
Ant. But stirr'd by Cleopatra. Now for the loue of Loue, and her soft houres, Let's not confound the time with Conference harsh; There's not a minute of our liues should stretch Without some pleasure now. What sport to night? Cleo. Heare the Ambassadors
Ant. Fye wrangling Queene: Whom euery thing becomes, to chide, to laugh, To weepe: who euery passion fully striues To make it selfe (in Thee) faire, and admir'd. No Messenger but thine, and all alone, to night Wee'l wander through the streets, and note The qualities of people. Come my Queene, Last night you did desire it. Speake not to vs.
Exeunt. with the Traine.
Dem. Is Caesar with Anthonius priz'd so slight? Philo. Sir, sometimes when he is not Anthony, He comes too short of that great Property Which still should go with Anthony
Dem. I am full sorry, that hee approues the common Lyar, who thus speakes of him at Rome; but I will hope of better deeds to morrow. Rest you happy.
Exeunt.
Enter Enobarbus, Lamprius, a Southsayer, Rannius, Lucillius, Charmian, Iras, Mardian the Eunuch, and Alexas.
Char. L[ord]. Alexas, sweet Alexas, most any thing Alexas, almost most absolute Alexas, where's the Soothsayer that you prais'd so to'th' Queene? Oh that I knewe this Husband, which you say, must change his Hornes with Garlands
Alex. Soothsayer
Sooth. Your will? Char. Is this the Man? Is't you sir that know things? Sooth. In Natures infinite booke of Secrecie, a little I can read
Alex. Shew him your hand
Enob. Bring in the Banket quickly: Wine enough, Cleopatra's health to drinke
Char. Good sir, giue me good Fortune
Sooth. I make not, but foresee
Char. Pray then, foresee me one
Sooth. You shall be yet farre fairer then you are
Char. He meanes in flesh
Iras. No, you shall paint when you are old
Char. Wrinkles forbid
Alex. Vex not his prescience, be attentiue
Char. Hush
Sooth. You shall be more belouing, then beloued
Char. I had rather heate my Liuer with drinking
Alex. Nay, heare him
Char. Good now some excellent Fortune: Let mee be married to three Kings in a forenoone, and Widdow them all: Let me haue a Childe at fifty, to whom Herode of Iewry may do Homage. Finde me to marrie me with Octauius Caesar, and companion me with my Mistris
Sooth. You shall out-liue the Lady whom you serue
Char. Oh excellent, I loue long life better then Figs
Sooth. You haue seene and proued a fairer former fortune, then that which is to approach
Char. Then belike my Children shall haue no names: Prythee how many Boyes and Wenches must I haue
Sooth. If euery of your wishes had a wombe, & foretell euery wish, a Million
Char. Out Foole, I forgiue thee for a Witch
Alex. You thinke none but your sheets are priuie to your wishes
Char. Nay come, tell Iras hers
Alex. Wee'l know all our Fortunes
Enob. Mine, and most of our Fortunes to night, shall be drunke to bed
Iras. There's a Palme presages Chastity, if nothing els
Char. E'ne as the o're-flowing Nylus presageth Famine
Iras. Go you wilde Bedfellow, you cannot Soothsay
Char. Nay, if an oyly Palme bee not a fruitfull Prognostication, I cannot scratch mine eare. Prythee tel her but a worky day Fortune
Sooth. Your Fortunes are alike
Iras. But how, but how, giue me particulars
Sooth. I haue said
Iras. Am I not an inch of Fortune better then she? Char. Well, if you were but an inch of fortune better then I: where would you choose it
Iras. Not in my Husbands nose
Char. Our worser thoughts Heauens mend
Alexas. Come, his Fortune, his Fortune. Oh let him mary a woman that cannot go, sweet Isis, I beseech thee, and let her dye too, and giue him a worse, and let worse follow worse, till the worst of all follow him laughing to his graue, fifty-fold a Cuckold. Good Isis heare me this Prayer, though thou denie me a matter of more waight: good Isis I beseech thee
Iras. Amen, deere Goddesse, heare that prayer of the people. For, as it is a heart-breaking to see a handsome man loose-Wiu'd, so it is a deadly sorrow, to beholde a foule Knaue vncuckolded: Therefore deere Isis keep decorum, and Fortune him accordingly
Char. Amen
Alex. Lo now, if it lay in their hands to make mee a Cuckold, they would make themselues Whores, but they'ld doo't. Enter Cleopatra.
Enob. Hush, heere comes Anthony
Char. Not he, the Queene
Cleo. Saue you, my Lord
Enob. No Lady
Cleo. Was he not heere? Char. No Madam
Cleo. He was dispos'd to mirth, but on the sodaine A Romane thought hath strooke him. Enobarbus? Enob. Madam
Cleo. Seeke him, and bring him hither: wher's Alexias? Alex. Heere at your seruice. My Lord approaches. Enter Anthony, with a Messenger.
Cleo. We will not looke vpon him: Go with vs.
Exeunt.
Messen. Fuluia thy Wife, First came into the Field
Ant. Against my Brother Lucius? Messen. I: but soone that Warre had end, And the times state Made friends of them, ioynting their force 'gainst Caesar, Whose better issue in the warre from Italy, Vpon the first encounter draue them
Ant. Well, what worst
Mess. The Nature of bad newes infects the Teller
Ant. When it concernes the Foole or Coward: On. Things that are past, are done, with me. 'Tis thus, Who tels me true, though in his Tale lye death, I heare him as he flatter'd
Mes. Labienus (this is stiffe-newes) Hath with his Parthian Force Extended Asia: from Euphrates his conquering Banner shooke, from Syria to Lydia, And to Ionia, whil'st- Ant. Anthony thou would'st say
Mes. Oh my Lord
Ant. Speake to me home, Mince not the generall tongue, name Cleopatra as she is call'd in Rome: Raile thou in Fuluia's phrase, and taunt my faults With such full License, as both Truth and Malice Haue power to vtter. Oh then we bring forth weeds, When our quicke windes lye still, and our illes told vs Is as our earing: fare thee well awhile
Mes. At your Noble pleasure.
Exit Messenger
Enter another Messenger.
Ant. From Scicion how the newes? Speake there
1.Mes. The man from Scicion, Is there such an one? 2.Mes. He stayes vpon your will
Ant. Let him appeare: These strong Egyptian Fetters I must breake, Or loose my selfe in dotage. Enter another Messenger with a Letter.
What are you? 3.Mes. Fuluia thy wife is dead
Ant. Where dyed she
Mes. In Scicion, her length of sicknesse, With what else more serious, Importeth thee to know, this beares
Antho. Forbeare me There's a great Spirit gone, thus did I desire it: What our contempts doth often hurle from vs, We wish it ours againe. The present pleasure, By reuolution lowring, does become The opposite of it selfe: she's good being gon, The hand could plucke her backe, that shou'd her on. I must from this enchanting Queene breake off, Ten thousand harmes, more then the illes I know My idlenesse doth hatch. Enter Enobarbus.
How now Enobarbus
Eno. What's your pleasure, Sir? Anth. I must with haste from hence
Eno. Why then we kill all our Women. We see how mortall an vnkindnesse is to them, if they suffer our departure death's the word
Ant. I must be gone
Eno. Vnder a compelling an occasion, let women die. It were pitty to cast them away for nothing, though betweene them and a great cause, they should be esteemed nothing. Cleopatra catching but the least noyse of this, dies instantly: I haue seene her dye twenty times vppon farre poorer moment: I do think there is mettle in death, which commits some louing acte vpon her, she hath such a celerity in dying
Ant. She is cunning past mans thought
Eno. Alacke Sir no, her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure Loue. We cannot cal her winds and waters, sighes and teares: They are greater stormes and Tempests then Almanackes can report. This cannot be cunning in her; if it be, she makes a showre of Raine as well as Ioue
Ant. Would I had neuer seene her
Eno. Oh sir, you had then left vnseene a wonderfull peece of worke, which not to haue beene blest withall, would haue discredited your Trauaile
Ant. Fuluia is dead
Eno. Sir
Ant. Fuluia is dead
Eno. Fuluia? Ant. Dead
Eno. Why sir, giue the Gods a thankefull Sacrifice: when it pleaseth their Deities to take the wife of a man from him, it shewes to man the Tailors of the earth: comforting therein, that when olde Robes are worne out, there are members to make new. If there were no more Women but Fuluia, then had you indeede a cut, and the case to be lamented: This greefe is crown'd with Consolation, your old Smocke brings foorth a new Petticoate, and indeed the teares liue in an Onion, that should water this sorrow
Ant. The businesse she hath broached in the State, Cannot endure my absence
Eno. And the businesse you haue broach'd heere cannot be without you, especially that of Cleopatra's, which wholly depends on your abode
Ant. No more light Answeres: Let our Officers Haue notice what we purpose. I shall breake The cause of our Expedience to the Queene, And get her loue to part. For not alone The death of Fuluia, with more vrgent touches Do strongly speake to vs: but the Letters too Of many our contriuing Friends in Rome, Petition vs at home. Sextus Pompeius Haue giuen the dare to Caesar, and commands The Empire of the Sea. Our slippery people, Whose Loue is neuer link'd to the deseruer, Till his deserts are past, begin to throw Pompey the great, and all his Dignities Vpon his Sonne, who high in Name and Power, Higher then both in Blood and Life, stands vp For the maine Souldier. Whose quality going on, The sides o'th' world may danger. Much is breeding, Which like the Coursers heire, hath yet but life, And not a Serpents poyson. Say our pleasure, To such whose places vnder vs, require Our quicke remoue from hence
Enob. I shall doo't. Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Alexas, and Iras.
Cleo. Where is he? Char. I did not see him since
Cleo. See where he is, Whose with him, what he does: I did not send you. If you finde him sad, Say I am dauncing: if in Myrth, report That I am sodaine sicke. Quicke, and returne
Char. Madam, me thinkes if you did loue him deerly, You do not hold the method, to enforce The like from him
Cleo. What should I do, I do not? Ch. In each thing giue him way, crosse him in nothing
Cleo. Thou teachest like a foole: the way to lose him
Char. Tempt him not so too farre. I wish forbeare, In time we hate that which we often feare. Enter Anthony.
But heere comes Anthony
Cleo. I am sicke, and sullen
An. I am sorry to giue breathing to my purpose
Cleo. Helpe me away deere Charmian, I shall fall, It cannot be thus long, the sides of Nature Will not sustaine it
Ant. Now my deerest Queene
Cleo. Pray you stand farther from mee
Ant. What's the matter? Cleo. I know by that same eye ther's some good news. What sayes the married woman you may goe? Would she had neuer giuen you leaue to come. Let her not say 'tis I that keepe you heere, I haue no power vpon you: Hers you are
Ant. The Gods best know
Cleo. Oh neuer was there Queene So mightily betrayed: yet at the first I saw the Treasons planted
Ant. Cleopatra
Cleo. Why should I thinke you can be mine, & true, (Though you in swearing shake the Throaned Gods) Who haue beene false to Fuluia? Riotous madnesse, To be entangled with those mouth-made vowes, Which breake themselues in swearing
Ant. Most sweet Queene
Cleo. Nay pray you seeke no colour for your going, But bid farewell, and goe: When you sued staying, Then was the time for words: No going then, Eternity was in our Lippes, and Eyes, Blisse in our browes bent: none our parts so poore, But was a race of Heauen. They are so still, Or thou the greatest Souldier of the world, Art turn'd the greatest Lyar
Ant. How now Lady? Cleo. I would I had thy inches, thou should'st know There were a heart in Egypt
Ant. Heare me Queene: The strong necessity of Time, commands Our Seruices a-while: but my full heart Remaines in vse with you. Our Italy, Shines o're with ciuill Swords; Sextus Pompeius Makes his approaches to the Port of Rome, Equality of two Domesticke powers, Breed scrupulous faction: The hated growne to strength Are newly growne to Loue: The condemn'd Pompey, Rich in his Fathers Honor, creepes apace Into the hearts of such, as haue not thriued Vpon the present state, whose Numbers threaten, And quietnesse growne sicke of rest, would purge By any desperate change: My more particular, And that which most with you should safe my going, Is Fuluias death
Cleo. Though age from folly could not giue me freedom It does from childishnesse. Can Fuluia dye? Ant. She's dead my Queene. Looke heere, and at thy Soueraigne leysure read The Garboyles she awak'd: at the last, best, See when, and where shee died
Cleo. O most false Loue! Where be the Sacred Violles thou should'st fill With sorrowfull water? Now I see, I see, In Fuluias death, how mine receiu'd shall be
Ant. Quarrell no more, but bee prepar'd to know The purposes I beare: which are, or cease, As you shall giue th' aduice. By the fire That quickens Nylus slime, I go from hence Thy Souldier, Seruant, making Peace or Warre, As thou affects
Cleo. Cut my Lace, Charmian come, But let it be, I am quickly ill, and well, So Anthony loues
Ant. My precious Queene forbeare, And giue true euidence to his Loue, which stands An honourable Triall
Cleo. So Fuluia told me. I prythee turne aside, and weepe for her, Then bid adiew to me, and say the teares Belong to Egypt. Good now, play one Scene Of excellent dissembling, and let it looke Like perfect Honor
Ant. You'l heat my blood no more? Cleo. You can do better yet: but this is meetly
Ant. Now by Sword
Cleo. And Target. Still he mends. But this is not the best. Looke prythee Charmian, How this Herculean Roman do's become The carriage of his chafe
Ant. Ile leaue you Lady
Cleo. Courteous Lord, one word: Sir, you and I must part, but that's not it: Sir, you and I haue lou'd, but there's not it: That you know well, something it is I would: Oh, my Obliuion is a very Anthony, And I am all forgotten
Ant. But that your Royalty Holds Idlenesse your subiect, I should take you For Idlenesse it selfe
Cleo. 'Tis sweating Labour, To beare such Idlenesse so neere the heart As Cleopatra this. But Sir, forgiue me, Since my becommings kill me, when they do not Eye well to you. Your Honor calles you hence, Therefore be deafe to my vnpittied Folly, And all the Gods go with you. Vpon your Sword Sit Lawrell victory, and smooth successe Be strew'd before your feete
Ant. Let vs go. Come: Our separation so abides and flies, That thou reciding heere, goes yet with mee; And I hence fleeting, heere remaine with thee. Away.
Exeunt.
Enter Octauius reading a Letter, Lepidus, and their Traine.
Caes You may see Lepidus, and henceforth know, It is not Caesars Naturall vice, to hate One great Competitor. From Alexandria This is the newes: He fishes, drinkes, and wastes The Lampes of night in reuell: Is not more manlike Then Cleopatra: nor the Queene of Ptolomy More Womanly then he. Hardly gaue audience Or vouchsafe to thinke he had Partners. You Shall finde there a man, who is th' abstracts of all faults, That all men follow
Lep. I must not thinke There are, euils enow to darken all his goodnesse: His faults in him, seeme as the Spots of Heauen, More fierie by nights Blacknesse; Hereditarie, Rather then purchaste: what he cannot change, Then what he chooses
Caes You are too indulgent. Let's graunt it is not Amisse to tumble on the bed of Ptolomy, To giue a Kingdome for a Mirth, to sit And keepe the turne of Tipling with a Slaue, To reele the streets at noone, and stand the Buffet With knaues that smels of sweate: Say this becoms him (As his composure must be rare indeed, Whom these things cannot blemish) yet must Anthony No way excuse his foyles, when we do beare So great waight in his lightnesse. If he fill'd His vacancie with his Voluptuousnesse, Full surfets, and the drinesse of his bones, Call on him for't. But to confound such time, That drummes him from his sport, and speakes as lowd As his owne State, and ours, 'tis to be chid: As we rate Boyes, who being mature in knowledge, Pawne their experience to their present pleasure, And so rebell to iudgement. Enter a Messenger.
Lep. Heere's more newes
Mes. Thy biddings haue beene done, & euerie houre Most Noble Caesar, shalt thou haue report How 'tis abroad. Pompey is strong at Sea, And it appeares, he is belou'd of those That only haue feard Caesar: to the Ports The discontents repaire, and mens reports Giue him much wrong'd
Caes I should haue knowne no lesse, It hath bin taught vs from the primall state That he which is was wisht, vntill he were: And the ebb'd man, Ne're lou'd, till ne're worth loue, Comes fear'd, by being lack'd. This common bodie, Like to a Vagabond Flagge vpon the Streame, Goes too, and backe, lacking the varrying tyde To rot it selfe with motion
Mes. Caesar I bring thee word, Menacrates and Menas famous Pyrates Makes the Sea serue them, which they eare and wound With keeles of euery kinde. Many hot inrodes They make in Italy, the Borders Maritime Lacke blood to thinke on't, and flush youth reuolt, No Vessell can peepe forth: but 'tis as soone Taken as seene: for Pompeyes name strikes more Then could his Warre resisted Caesar. Anthony, Leaue thy lasciuious Vassailes. When thou once Was beaten from Medena, where thou slew'st Hirsius, and Pansa Consuls, at thy heele Did Famine follow, whom thou fought'st against, (Though daintily brought vp) with patience more Then Sauages could suffer. Thou did'st drinke The stale of Horses, and the gilded Puddle Which Beasts would cough at. Thy pallat the[n] did daine The roughest Berry, on the rudest Hedge. Yea, like the Stagge, when Snow the Pasture sheets, The barkes of Trees thou brows'd. On the Alpes, It is reported thou did'st eate strange flesh, Which some did dye to looke on: And all this (It wounds thine Honor that I speake it now) Was borne so like a Soldiour, that thy cheeke So much as lank'd not
Lep. 'Tis pitty of him
Caes Let his shames quickely Driue him to Rome, 'tis time we twaine Did shew our selues i'th' Field, and to that end Assemble me immediate counsell, Pompey Thriues in our Idlenesse
Lep. To morrow Caesar, I shall be furnisht to informe you rightly Both what by Sea and Land I can be able To front this present time
Caes Til which encounter, it is my busines too. Farwell
Lep. Farwell my Lord, what you shal know mean time Of stirres abroad, I shall beseech you Sir To let me be partaker
Caesar. Doubt not sir, I knew it for my Bond.
Exeunt.
Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, & Mardian.
Cleo. Charmian
Char. Madam
Cleo. Ha, ha, giue me to drinke Mandragora
Char. Why Madam? Cleo. That I might sleepe out this great gap of time: My Anthony is away
Char. You thinke of him too much
Cleo. O 'tis Treason
Char. Madam, I trust not so
Cleo. Thou, Eunuch Mardian? Mar. What's your Highnesse pleasure? Cleo. Not now to heare thee sing. I take no pleasure In ought an Eunuch ha's: Tis well for thee, That being vnseminar'd, thy freer thoughts May not flye forth of Egypt. Hast thou Affections? Mar. Yes gracious Madam
Cleo. Indeed? Mar. Not in deed Madam, for I can do nothing But what in deede is honest to be done: Yet haue I fierce Affections, and thinke What Venus did with Mars