Enter Sailors. Ofi. A messenger from the gallies. Sail. The Turkish preparation makes for Rhodes, So was I bid report here to the State. Duke. How fay you by this change? By no afsay of reafon. 'Tis a pageant,' That Rhodes is dressed in. If we make thought of Duke Nay, in all confidence, he's not for Rhodes. (12) So may he with more fertile question bear it;] This is Mr Pope's reading; but upon what authorities, I am yet to icarn. All the old impreffions, Quartos and Folios, I know have it; 1 So may he with more facile question bear it. i. e. He may with a more easy struggle, with lefs strength, carry Cyprus; and the Poet fubjoins this reafon for it, because Cyprus was not near so well fortified, nor in the condition to oppose, as Rhodes was. I ought to mention, to the praife of my friend Mr Warburton's fagacity, that though he had none of the old editions to collate or refer to; he sent me word by letter, that the context abfolutely required facile question. Enter a Messenger. Mes. The Ottomites (reverend and gracious,) Steering with due course towards the ifle of Rhodes, Have there enjoined them with an after-fleet1 Sen. Ay, fo I thought; how many, as you guess? Mef. Of thirty fail; and now they do re-stem Their backward course, bearing with frank ap pearance Their purposes toward Cyprus. Signior Montano, Your trufty and most valiant servitor, With his free duty, recommends you thùs, And prays you to believe him. Duke. "Tis certain then for Cyprus: Marcus Is he not here in town? 1 Sen. He's now in Florence. [Luccicos, Duke. Write from us to him, post, post-hafte, dispatch. i Sen. Here comes Brabantio, and the valiant Moor. To them, enter BRABANTIO, OTHELLO, CASSIO, IAGO, RODORIGO, and Officers. [you, Duke. Valiant Othello, we must straight employ Against the general enemy Ottoman. I did not fee you; welcome, gentle Signior: [To Bra. We lacked your counsel, and your help to-night. Bra. So did I yours; good your Grace, pardon me; Neither my place, nor aught I heard of business, i That it ingluts and fwallows other forrows, Duke. Why, what's the matter? Bra. My daughter! oh, my daughter! - Bra. To me; She is abused, stolen from me, and corrupted (Being not deficient, blind, or lame of fenfe,) Duke. Whoe'er he be that in this foul proceed- Stood in your action. Bra. Humbly I thank your Grace. Hath hither brought. All. We're very forry for't. Duke. Whatin your own part can you say to this? Bra. Nothing, but this is fo. [To Othel. Oth. Most potent, grave, and reverend figniors, And little of this great world can I speak, R 1 1 -More than pertains to feats of broils and battle; In speaking for myself. Yet, by your patience, Of my whole course of love; what drugs, what charms, Bra. A maiden, never bold; (13) It is a judgment maimed and most imperfect, Against all rules of nature] Perfection erring, seems a contradiction in terminis, as the schoolmen call it. Befides, Brabantio does not blazon his daughter out for a thing of abfolute perfection; he only says, she was indued with fuch an extreme innate modesty, that for her to fall in love fo prepofteroufly, no found judgment could allow but it must be by magical practice upon her. I have ventured to imagine that our Author wrote; That will confess, affection fo could err, &c. This is entirely confonant to what Brabantio would fay of her; and one of the fenators, immediately after, in his. examination of the Moor, thus addresses himself to him; _ But, Othello, speak; Did you by indirect and forced courses Subdue and poison this young maid's affections, &c. Duke. To vouch this is no proof, Without more certain and more overt teft, Than these thin habits and poor likelihoods Of modern feeming do prefer against him. 1 Sen. But, Othello, speak; Did you by indirect and forced courses Subdue and poifon this young maid's affections? Or came it by request, and fuch fair question As foul to foul affordeth? Oth. I beseech you, Send for the lady to the Sagittary, Not only take away, but let your fentence Duke. Fetch Desdemona hither. [Exeunt two or three. Oth. Ancient, conduct them, you best know the [Exit lago. place. Duke. Say it, Othello. Oth. Her father loved me, oft invited me; Still questioned me the story of my life, I ran it through, even from my boyish days, [breach; |