The Shakespeare Theatre of New Jersey OTHELLO: Student/Teacher Study Guide What we hear most from educators is that there is a great deal of anxiety when it comes to Shakespeare; seeing it. Othello, the Moor of Venice is a tragedy by William. A modern-day adaptation in modern English, in which Othello is the first black.Othello, directed by Aaron Posner, Folger Theatre, 2002. This painfully modern-seeming story of a. The tragedy Othello, the Moor of Venice or shortly Othello by the great English playwright William Shakespeare as.

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 circumstanceHorribly stuff'd with epithets of war;And, in conclusion, Nonsuits my mediators; for, 'Certes, ' says he, 'I have already chose my officer.'And what was he?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 knowsMore than a spinster; unless the bookish theoric, Wherein the toged consuls can proposeAs masterly as he: mere prattle, without practise, Is all his soldiership. But he, sir, had the election: And I, of whom his eyes had seen the proofAt Rhodes, at Cyprus and on other groundsChristian and heathen, must be be-lee'd and calm'dBy debitor and creditor: this counter-caster, He, in good time, must his lieutenant be, And I-God bless the mark!-his Moo

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Enter RODERIGO and IAGO. Never tell me; I take it much unkindlyThat thou, Iago, who hast had my purseAs if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this. 'Sblood, but you will not hear me:5If ever I did dream of such a matter, Abhor me. Thou told'st me thou didst hold him in thy hate. 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,10I know my price, I am worth no worse a place:But he; as loving his own pride and purposes,Evades them, with a bombast circumstanceHorribly stuff'd with epithets of war;And, in conclusion,15Nonsuits my mediators; for, 'Certes,' says he,'I have already chose my officer.'

And what was he?Forsooth, a great arithmetician,One Michael Cassio, a Florentine,20A fellow almost damn'd in a fair wife;That never set a squadron in the field,Nor the division of a battle knowsMore than a spinster; unless the bookish theoric,Wherein the toged consuls can propose25As masterly as he: mere prattle, without practise,Is all his soldiership. But he, sir, had the election:And I, of whom his eyes had seen the proofAt Rhodes, at Cyprus and on other groundsChristian and heathen, must be be-lee'd and calm'd30By debitor and creditor: this counter-caster,He, in good time, must his lieutenant be,And I—God bless the mark!—his Moorship's ancient. By heaven, I rather would have been his hangman. Why, there's no remedy; 'tis the curse of service,35Preferment goes by letter and affection,And not by old gradation, where each secondStood heir to the first. Now, sir, be judge yourself,Whether I in any just term am affinedTo love the Moor.40.

I would not follow him then. O, sir, content you;I follow him to serve my turn upon him:We cannot all be masters, nor all mastersCannot be truly follow'd. You shall mark45Many 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 are50Who, trimm'd in forms and visages of duty,Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves,And, throwing but shows of service on their lords,Do well thrive by them and when they have linedtheir coats55Do 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;60Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty,But seeming so, for my peculiar end:For when my outward action doth demonstrateThe native act and figure of my heartIn compliment extern, 'tis not long after65But I will wear my heart upon my sleeveFor daws to peck at: I am not what I am. What a full fortune does the thicklips oweIf he can carry't thus!.

Call up her father,70Rouse 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,75As it may lose some colour. Here is her father's house; I'll call aloud. Do, with like timorous accent and dire yellAs when, by night and negligence, the fireIs spied in populous cities.80. What, ho, Brabantio! Signior Brabantio, ho!. What, ho, Brabantio!

Thieves!Look to your house, your daughter and your bags!Thieves! Thieves!BRABANTIO appears above, at a window. What is the reason of this terrible summons?What is the matter there?. Signior, is all your family within?. Are your doors lock'd?. Why, wherefore ask you this?90.

'Zounds, sir, you're robb'd; for shame, put onyour gown;Your heart is burst, you have lost half your soul;Even now, now, very now, an old black ramIs topping your white ewe. Arise, arise;95Awake the snorting citizens with the bell,Or else the devil will make a grandsire of you:Arise, I say. What, have you lost your wits?. Most reverend signior, do you know my voice?100. What are you?. My name is Roderigo. The worser welcome:I have charged thee not to haunt about my doors:In honest plainness thou hast heard me say105My daughter is not for thee; and now, in madness,Being full of supper and distempering draughts,Upon malicious bravery, dost thou comeTo start my quiet.

Sir, sir, sir,—110. But thou must needs be sureMy spirit and my place have in them powerTo make this bitter to thee. Patience, good sir.

What tell'st thou me of robbing? This is Venice;115My house is not a grange. Most grave Brabantio,In simple and pure soul I come to you. 'Zounds, sir, you are one of those that will notserve God, if the devil bid you. Because we come to120do you service and you think we are ruffians, you'llhave your daughter covered with a Barbary horse;you'll have your nephews neigh to you; you'll havecoursers for cousins and gennets for germans. What profane wretch art thou?125.

I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughterand the Moor are now making the beast with two backs. Thou art a villain. You are—a senator. This thou shalt answer; I know thee, Roderigo.130. 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 guard135But 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 me140We have your wrong rebuke.

Do not believeThat, 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;145Tying her duty, beauty, wit and fortunesIn an extravagant and wheeling strangerOf here and every where. Straight satisfy yourself:If she be in her chamber or your house,Let loose on me the justice of the state150For thus deluding you.

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.155Light, I say! Light!Exit above. Farewell; for I must leave you:It seems not meet, nor wholesome to my place,To be produced—as, if I stay, I shall—160Against the Moor: for, I do know, the state,However this may gall him with some cheque,Cannot with safety cast him, for he's embark'dWith such loud reason to the Cyprus wars,Which even now stand in act, that, for their souls,165Another 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,170Which 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.ExitEnter, below, BRABANTIO, and Servants with torches. It is too true an evil: gone she is;And what's to come of my despised timeIs nought but bitterness. Now, Roderigo,Where didst thou see her? O unhappy girl!With the Moor, say'st thou? Who would be a father!180How didst thou know 'twas she? O she deceives mePast thought!

What said she to you? Get more tapers:Raise all my kindred. Are they married, think you?.

Truly, I think they are. How got she out? O treason of the blood!185Fathers, from hence trust not your daughters' mindsBy what you see them act. Is there not charmsBy which the property of youth and maidhoodMay be abused? Have you not read, Roderigo,Of some such thing?190. Yes, sir, I have indeed.

Call up my brother. O, would you had had her!Some one way, some another. Do you knowWhere we may apprehend her and the Moor?. I think I can discover him, if you please,195To get good guard and go along with me. Pray you, lead on. At every house I'll call;I may command at most.

Get weapons, ho!And raise some special officers of night.On, good Roderigo: I'll deserve your pains.200Exeunt. Enter OTHELLO, IAGO, and Attendants with torches. Though in the trade of war I have slain men,Yet do I hold it very stuff o' the conscienceTo do no contrived murder: I lack iniquity205Sometimes to do me service: nine or ten timesI had thought to have yerk'd him here under the ribs. 'Tis better as it is. Nay, but he prated,And spoke such scurvy and provoking terms210Against your honourThat, 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,That the magnifico is much beloved,215And hath in his effect a voice potentialAs double as the duke's: he will divorce you;Or put upon you what restraint and grievanceThe law, with all his might to enforce it on,Will give him cable.220.

Let him do his spite:My services which I have done the signioryShall 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 being225From men of royal siege, and my demeritsMay speak unbonneted to as proud a fortuneAs this that I have reach'd: for know, Iago,But that I love the gentle Desdemona,I would not my unhoused free condition230Put into circumscription and confineFor the sea's worth. What lights come yond?. Those are the raised father and his friends:You were best go in. I must be found:235My parts, my title and my perfect soulShall manifest me rightly. Is it they?. By Janus, I think no.Enter CASSIO, and certain Officers with torches.

The servants of the duke, and my lieutenant.240The goodness of the night upon you, friends!What is the news?. The duke does greet you, general,And he requires your haste-post-haste appearance,Even on the instant.245.

What is the matter, think you?. Something from Cyprus as I may divine:It is a business of some heat: the galleysHave sent a dozen sequent messengersThis very night at one another's heels,250And many of the consuls, raised and met,Are at the duke's already: you have beenhotly call'd for;When, being not at your lodging to be found,The senate hath sent about three several guests255To search you out. 'Tis well I am found by you.I will but spend a word here in the house,And go with you.Exit. Ancient, what makes he here?.

'Faith, he to-night hath boarded a land carack:If it prove lawful prize, he's made for ever. I do not understand. He's married.265. To who?Re-enter OTHELLO. Marry, to—Come, captain, will you go?.

Have with you. Here comes another troop to seek for you.270. It is Brabantio. General, be advised;He comes to bad intent.Enter BRABANTIO, RODERIGO, and Officers with torches and weapons. Stand there!.

Signior, it is the Moor.275. Down with him, thief!They draw on both sides.

You, Roderigo! Come, sir, I am for you. Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust them.Good signior, you shall more command with years280Than with your weapons. The DUKE and Senators sitting at a table; Officers attending. There is no composition in these newsThat gives them credit.

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Indeed, they are disproportion'd;My letters say a hundred and seven galleys.330. And mine, a hundred and forty. 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 confirm335A Turkish fleet, and bearing up to Cyprus. Nay, it is possible enough to judgment:I do not so secure me in the error,But the main article I do approveIn fearful sense.340. Within What, ho! A messenger from the galleys.Enter a Sailor. Now, what's the business?.

The Turkish preparation makes for Rhodes;345So was I bid report here to the stateBy Signior Angelo. How say you by this change?. This cannot be,By no assay of reason: 'tis a pageant,350To keep us in false gaze. When we considerThe importancy of Cyprus to the Turk,And let ourselves again but understand,That as it more concerns the Turk than Rhodes,So may he with more facile question bear it,355For that it stands not in such warlike brace,But altogether lacks the abilitiesThat Rhodes is dress'd in: if we make thought of this,We must not think the Turk is so unskilfulTo leave that latest which concerns him first,360Neglecting an attempt of ease and gain,To wake and wage a danger profitless. Nay, in all confidence, he's not for Rhodes. Here is more news.Enter a Messenger. The Ottomites, reverend and gracious,Steering with due course towards the isle of Rhodes,Have there injointed them with an after fleet.

Ay, so I thought. How many, as you guess?. Of thirty sail: and now they do restem370Their backward course, bearing with frank appearanceTheir purposes toward Cyprus. Signior Montano,Your trusty and most valiant servitor,With his free duty recommends you thus,And prays you to believe him.375. 'Tis certain, then, for Cyprus.Marcus Luccicos, is not he in town?.

He's now in Florence. Write from us to him; post-post-haste dispatch. Here comes Brabantio and the valiant Moor.380Enter BRABANTIO, OTHELLO, IAGO, RODERIGO, and Officers. Valiant Othello, we must straight employ youAgainst the general enemy Ottoman.To BRABANTIOI did not see you; welcome, gentle signior;385We lack'd your counsel and your help tonight. So did I yours.

Good your grace, pardon me;Neither my place nor aught I heard of businessHath raised me from my bed, nor doth the general careTake hold on me, for my particular grief390Is of so flood-gate and o'erbearing natureThat it engluts and swallows other sorrowsAnd it is still itself. Why, what's the matter?. O, my daughter!395. with Senator Dead?.

Ay, to me;She is abused, stol'n from me, and corruptedBy spells and medicines bought of mountebanks;For nature so preposterously to err,400Being not deficient, blind, or lame of sense,Sans witchcraft could not. Whoe'er he be that in this foul proceedingHath thus beguiled your daughter of herselfAnd you of her, the bloody book of law405You shall yourself read in the bitter letterAfter your own sense, yea, though our proper sonStood in your action. Humbly I thank your grace.Here is the man, this Moor, whom now, it seems,410Your special mandate for the state-affairsHath hither brought. with Senator We are very sorry for't. To OTHELLO What, in your own part, can you say to this?.

Nothing, but this is so.415. 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 offending420Hath 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 usedTheir dearest action in the tented field,425And little of this great world can I speak,More than pertains to feats of broil and battle,And therefore little shall I grace my causeIn speaking for myself. Yet, by your gracious patience,I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver430Of 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. A maiden never bold;435Of spirit so still and quiet, that her motionBlush'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 judgment maim'd and most imperfect440That will confess perfection so could errAgainst all rules of nature, and must be drivenTo find out practises of cunning hell,Why this should be. I therefore vouch againThat with some mixtures powerful o'er the blood,445Or with some dram conjured to this effect,He wrought upon her.

To vouch this, is no proof,Without more wider and more overt testThan these thin habits and poor likelihoods450Of modern seeming do prefer against him. But, Othello, speak:Did you by indirect and forced coursesSubdue and poison this young maid's affections?Or came it by request and such fair question455As 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,460The trust, the office I do hold of you,Not only take away, but let your sentenceEven fall upon my life. Fetch Desdemona hither. Ancient, conduct them: you best know the place.465Exeunt IAGO and AttendantsAnd, till she come, as truly as to heavenI do confess the vices of my blood,So justly to your grave ears I'll presentHow I did thrive in this fair lady's love,470And she in mine. Say it, Othello. Enter MONTANO and two Gentlemen.

What from the cape can you discern at sea?. Nothing at all: it is a highwrought flood;765I cannot, 'twixt the heaven and the main,Descry a sail. 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,770What ribs of oak, when mountains melt on them,Can hold the mortise? What shall we hear of this?.

A segregation of the Turkish fleet:For do but stand upon the foaming shore,The chidden billow seems to pelt the clouds;775The 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 viewOn the enchafed flood.780. If that the Turkish fleetBe not enshelter'd and embay'd, they are drown'd:It is impossible they bear it out.Enter a third Gentleman. Our wars are done.785The desperate tempest hath so bang'd the Turks,That their designment halts: a noble ship of VeniceHath seen a grievous wreck and sufferanceOn most part of their fleet.

Is this true?790. 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.795. I am glad on't; 'tis a worthy governor. But this same Cassio, though he speak of comfortTouching the Turkish loss, yet he looks sadly,And prays the Moor be safe; for they were partedWith foul and violent tempest.800.

Pray heavens he be;For I have served him, and the man commandsLike a full soldier. Let's to the seaside, ho!As well to see the vessel that's come inAs to throw out our eyes for brave Othello,805Even till we make the main and the aerial blueAn indistinct regard. Come, let's do so:For every minute is expectancyOf more arrivance.810Enter CASSIO. Thanks, you the valiant of this warlike isle,That so approve the Moor! O, let the heavensGive him defence against the elements,For I have lost us him on a dangerous sea.815. Is he well shipp'd?. His bark is stoutly timber'd, his pilotOf very expert and approved allowance;Therefore my hopes, not surfeited to death,Stand in bold cure.820A cry within 'A sail, a sail, a sail!'

Enter a fourth Gentleman. What noise?. The town is empty; on the brow o' the seaStand ranks of people, and they cry 'A sail!' My hopes do shape him for the governor.Guns heard. They do discharge their shot of courtesy:Our friends at least.

I pray you, sir, go forth,830And give us truth who 'tis that is arrived. I shall.Exit. But, good lieutenant, is your general wived?. Most fortunately: he hath achieved a maid835That paragons description and wild fame;One that excels the quirks of blazoning pens,And in the essential vesture of creationDoes tire the ingener.Re-enter second Gentleman 840How now!

Who has put in?. 'Tis one Iago, ancient to the general. Has had most favourable and happy speed:Tempests themselves, high seas, and howling winds,The gutter'd rocks and congregated sands—845Traitors ensteep'd to clog the guiltless keel,—As having sense of beauty, do omitTheir mortal natures, letting go safely byThe divine Desdemona. What is she?850. She that I spake of, our great captain's captain,Left in the conduct of the bold Iago,Whose footing here anticipates our thoughtsA se'nnight's speed. Great Jove, Othello guard,And swell his sail with thine own powerful breath,855That he may bless this bay with his tall ship,Make love's quick pants in Desdemona's arms,Give renew'd fire to our extincted spiritsAnd bring all Cyprus comfort!Enter DESDEMONA, EMILIA, IAGO, RODERIGO, and Attendants 860O, 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,865Enwheel thee round!.

I thank you, valiant Cassio.What tidings can you tell me of my lord?. He is not yet arrived: nor know I aughtBut that he's well and will be shortly here.870. O, but I fear—How lost you company?. The great contention of the sea and skiesParted our fellowship—But, hark!

A sail.Within 'A sail, a sail!' Guns heard. They give their greeting to the citadel;875This likewise is a friend. See for the news.Exit GentlemanGood ancient, you are welcome.To EMILIA 880Welcome, mistress.Let it not gall your patience, good Iago,That I extend my manners; 'tis my breedingThat gives me this bold show of courtesy.Kissing her. Sir, would she give you so much of her lipsAs of her tongue she oft bestows on me,You'll have enough.

Alas, she has no speech. In faith, too much;890I 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.

You have little cause to say so.895. Come on, come on; you are pictures out of doors,Bells in your parlors, wild-cats in your kitchens,Saints m your injuries, devils being offended,Players in your housewifery, and housewives' in your beds. O, fie upon thee, slanderer!900. Nay, it is true, or else I am a Turk:You rise to play and go to bed to work. You shall not write my praise.

No, let me not. What wouldst thou write of me, if thou shouldst905praise me?. O gentle lady, do not put me to't;For I am nothing, if not critical. Come on assay. There's one gone to the harbour?.

Ay, madam.910. I am not merry; but I do beguileThe thing I am, by seeming otherwise.Come, how wouldst thou praise me?. I am about it; but indeed my inventionComes from my pate as birdlime does from frize;915It plucks out brains and all: but my Muse labours,And thus she is deliver'd.If she be fair and wise, fairness and wit,The one's for use, the other useth it. Well praised!

How if she be black and witty?920. If she be black, and thereto have a wit,She'll find a white that shall her blackness fit. Worse and worse. How if fair and foolish?. She never yet was foolish that was fair;925For even her folly help'd her to an heir.

These are old fond paradoxes to make fools laugh i'the alehouse. What miserable praise hast thou forher that's foul and foolish?. There's none so foul and foolish thereunto,930But does foul pranks which fair and wise ones do. O heavy ignorance! Thou praisest the worst best.But what praise couldst thou bestow on a deservingwoman indeed, one that, in the authority of hermerit, did justly put on the vouch of very malice itself?935. She that was ever fair and never proud,Had tongue at will and yet was never loud,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,940Bade her wrong stay and her displeasure fly,She that in wisdom never was so frailTo 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,945She was a wight, if ever such wight were,—.

To do what?. To suckle fools and chronicle small beer. O most lame and impotent conclusion! Do not learnof him, Emilia, though he be thy husband.

How say950you, Cassio? Is he not a most profane and liberalcounsellor?. He speaks home, madam: You may relish him more inthe soldier than in the scholar. Aside He takes her by the palm: ay, well said,955whisper: with as little a web as this will Iensnare as great a fly as Cassio. Ay, smile uponher, do; I will gyve thee in thine own courtship.You say true; 'tis so, indeed: if such tricks asthese strip you out of your lieutenantry, it had960been better you had not kissed your three fingers sooft, which now again you are most apt to play thesir in.

Very good; well kissed! An excellentcourtesy!

'tis so, indeed. Yet again your fingersto your lips? Would they were clyster-pipes for your sake!965Trumpet withinThe Moor! I know his trumpet. 'Tis truly so. Let's meet him and receive him. Lo, where he comes!970Enter OTHELLO and Attendants.

O my fair warrior!. My dear Othello!. It gives me wonder great as my contentTo see you here before me. O my soul's joy!975If after every tempest come such calms,May the winds blow till they have waken'd death!And let the labouring bark climb hills of seasOlympus-high and duck again as lowAs hell's from heaven! If it were now to die,980'Twere now to be most happy; for, I fear,My soul hath her content so absoluteThat not another comfort like to thisSucceeds in unknown fate.

The heavens forbid985But that our loves and comforts should increase,Even as our days do grow!. Amen to that, sweet powers!I cannot speak enough of this content;It stops me here; it is too much of joy:990And this, and this, the greatest discords beKissing herThat e'er our hearts shall make!. Aside O, you are well tuned now!But I'll set down the pegs that make this music,995As honest as I am. Come, let us to the castle.News, friends; our wars are done, the Turksare drown'd.How does my old acquaintance of this isle?1000Honey, you shall be well desired in Cyprus;I have found great love amongst them.

O my sweet,I prattle out of fashion, and I doteIn mine own comforts. I prithee, good Iago,Go to the bay and disembark my coffers:1005Bring thou the master to the citadel;He is a good one, and his worthinessDoes challenge much respect. Come, Desdemona,Once more, well met at Cyprus.Exeunt OTHELLO, DESDEMONA, and Attendants.

Do thou meet me presently at the harbour. If thou be'st valiant,— as, they say, basemen being in love have then a nobility in theirnatures more than is native to them—list me.

Thelieutenant tonight watches on the court of1015guard:—first, I must tell thee this—Desdemona isdirectly in love with him. Why, 'tis not possible. Lay thy finger thus, and let thy soul be instructed.Mark me with what violence she first loved the Moor,1020but for bragging and telling her fantastical lies:and will she love him still for prating?

Let notthy discreet heart think it. Her eye must be fed;and what delight shall she have to look on thedevil? When the blood is made dull with the act of1025sport, there should be, again to inflame it and togive satiety a fresh appetite, loveliness in favour,sympathy in years, manners and beauties; all whichthe Moor is defective in: now, for want of theserequired conveniences, her delicate tenderness will1030find itself abused, begin to heave the gorge,disrelish and abhor the Moor; very nature willinstruct her in it and compel her to some secondchoice. Now, sir, this granted,—as it is a mostpregnant and unforced position—who stands so1035eminent in the degree of this fortune as Cassiodoes? A knave very voluble; no furtherconscionable than in putting on the mere form ofcivil and humane seeming, for the better compassingof his salt and most hidden loose affection?

Why,1040none; why, none: a slipper and subtle knave, afinder of occasions, that has an eye can stamp andcounterfeit advantages, though true advantage neverpresent itself; a devilish knave. Besides, theknave is handsome, young, and hath all those1045requisites in him that folly and green minds lookafter: a pestilent complete knave; and the womanhath found him already.