Alb. Beare them from hence, our present businesse
Is generall woe: Friends of my soule, you twaine,
Rule in this Realme, and the gor'd state sustaine
Kent. I haue a iourney Sir, shortly to go,
My Master calls me, I must not say no
Edg. The waight of this sad time we must obey,
Speake what we feele, not what we ought to say:
The oldest hath borne most, we that are yong,
Shall neuer see so much, nor liue so long.
Exeunt. with a dead March.
FINIS. THE TRAGEDIE OF KING LEAR.
The Tragedie of Othello, the Moore of Venice
Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.
Enter Rodorigo, and Iago.
Rodorigo. Neuer tell me, I take it much vnkindly
That thou (Iago) who hast had my purse,
As if y strings were thine, should'st know of this
Ia. But you'l not heare me. If euer I did dream
Of such a matter, abhorre me