Sometimes, to do me service: Nine or ten times
I had thought to have yerk'd him here under the
Oth. 'Tis better as it is.
[ribs.
Iago.
Nay, but he prated,
And spoke such scurvy and provoking terms
Against your honour,

That, with the little godliness I have,

I did full hard forbear him. But, I pray, sir,
Are you fast married? for, be sure of this,-
That the magnifico is much beloved;
And hath, in his effect, a voice potential
As double as the duke's; he will divorce you;
Or put upon you what restraint and grievance
The law (with all his might, to enforce it on,)
Will give him cable.

Oth.
Let him do his spite:
My services, which I have done the signiory,
Shall 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 being
From men of royal siege; and my demerits
May speak, unbonneted, to as proud a fortune
As this that I have reach'd: For know, lago,
But that I love the gentle Desdemona,
I would not my unhoused free condition
Put into circumscription and contine

For the sea's worth. But, look! what lights come yonder?

Enter CASSIO, at a distance, and certain Officers with torches.

Iago. These are the raised father, and his friends: You were best go in. Oth. Not I: I must be found; My parts, my title, and my perfect soul, Shall manifest me rightly. Is it they?

Iago. By Janus, I think no.

Oth. The servants of the duke, and my lieutenant. The goodness of the night upon you, friends! What is the news?

Cas. The duke does greet you, general; And he requires your haste-post-haste appearance, Even on the instant.

Oth.

What is the matter, think you? Cas. Something from Cyprus, as I may divine; It is a business of some heat: the gallies Have sent a dozen sequent messengers This very night at one another's heels; And many of the consuls, rais'd, and met,

Are at the duke's already: You have been hotly

call'd for;

When, being not at your lodging to be found, The senate hath sent about three several quests, To search you out.

Oth.

Good signior, you shall more command with years, Than with your weapons.

Bra. O thou foul thief, where hast thou ston's
my daughter?

Damn'd as thou art, thou hast enchanted her:
For I'll refer me to all things of sense,
If she in chains of magic were not bound,
Whether a maid-so tender, fair, and happy;
So opposite to marriage, that she shunn'd
The wealthy curled darlings of our nation,
Would ever have, to incur a general mock,
Run from her guardage to the sooty bosom
Of such a thing as thou: to fear, not to delight.
Judge me the world, if 'tis not gross in sense,
That thou hast practis'd on her with foul charms:
Abus'd her delicate youth with drugs or minerals,
That waken'd motion:-I'll have it disputed ;
'Tis probable, and palpable to thinking.
I therefore apprehend and do attach thee,
For an abuser of the world, a practiser
Of arts inhibited and out of warrant:-
Lay hold upon him; if he do resist,
Subdue him at his peril.

Oth.

Hold your hands, Both you of my inclining, and the rest: Were it my cue to fight, I should have known it Without a prompter. Where will you, that I go To answer this your charge?

Bra.

To prison: till fit time Of law, and course of direct session, Call thee to answer.

Oth.

What if I do obey? How may the duke be therewith satisfied, Whose messengers are here about my side, Upon some present business of the state, To bring me to him? The duke's in council; and your noble self, Off. 'Tis true, most worthy signis, I am sure, is sent for.

Bra.

How! the duke in council! In this time of the night!-Bring him away: Mine's not an idle cause: the duke himself, Or any of my brothers of the state, Cannot but feel this wrong, as 'twere their own For if such actions may have passage free, Bond-slaves, and pagans, shall our statesmen be [Breast

The Duke and Senators, sitting at a table; Oficar SCENE III.-The same. A Council-Chamber. attending.

Duke. There is no composition in these news, That gives them credit.

1 Sen.

Indeed, they are disproportion'd

I will but spend a word here in the house, And go with you.

[Exit.

Cas.
Ancient, what makes he here?
Iago. 'Faith, he to-night hath boarded a land
carack;

If it prove lawful prize, he's made for ever.

Cas. I do not understand.

Duke. And mine, a hundred and forty. 2 Sen. 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 confirm A Turkish fleet, and bearing up to Cyprus.

Duke. Nay, it is possible enough to judgment; I do not so secure me in the error, But the main article I do approve In fearful sense.

Sailor. (Within.) What ho! what ho! what be!

Enter an Officer, with a Sailor.

Off. A messenger from the gallies. Duke. Now? the business? Sail. The Turkish preparation makes for Rhodes : So was I bid report here to the state, By signior Angelo.

Duke. How say you by this change? 1 Sen. This cannot be By no assay of reason; 'tis a pageant, To keep us in false gaze: When we consider The importancy of Cyprus to the Turk; And let ourselves again but understand,

[this,

That, as it more concerns the Turk than Rhodes,
So may be with more facile question bear it,
For that it stands not in such warlike brace,
But altogether lacks th' abilities
That Rhodes is dress'd in :-if we make thought of
We must not think, the Turk is so unskilful,
To leave that latest, which concerns him first;
Neglecting an attempt of ease, and gain,
To wake, and wage, a danger profiless.
Duke. Nay, in all confidence, he's not for Rhodes.
Off. Here is more news.

Their purposes toward Cyprus.-Signior Montano,
Your trusty and most valiant servitor,
With his free duty recommends you thus,
And prays you to believe him.

Duke. 'Tis certain then for Cyprus.-
Marcus Lucchesé, is he not in town?

1 Sen. He's now in Florence.

Duke. Write from us; wish him post-post-haste: despatch. [Moor. 1 Sen. Here comes Brabantio, and the valiant Enter BRABANTIO, OTHELLO, IAGO, RODERIGO, and Officers.

Duke. Valiant Othello, we must straight employ

Ay, to me;

She is abus'd, stolen from me, and corrupted
By spells and medicines bought of mountebanks:
For nature so preposterously to err,
Being not deficient, blind, or lame of sense,
Sans witchcraft could not-

[ing,
Duke. Whoe'er he be, that, in this foul proceed-
Hath thus beguil'd your daughter of herself,
And you of her, the bloody book of law
You shall yourself read in the bitter letter,
After your own sense; yea, though our proper son
Stood in your action.

Bra. Humbly I thank your grace. Here is the man, this Moor; whom now, it seems, Your special mandate, for the state affairs, Hath hither brought. Duke & Sen. We are very sorry for it. Duke. What, in your own part, can you say to this? (To Othello.)

Bra. Nothing, but this is so.

Oth. 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

speech,

And little bless'd with the set phrase of peace;

my

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 with.

Bra.

A maiden never bold;

Of spirit so still and quiet, that her motion
Blush'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 imperfect,
That will confess-perfection so could err
Against all rules of nature; and must be driven
To find out practices of cunning hell,

Why this should be. I therefore vouch again,
That with some mixtures powerful o'er the blood,
Or with some dram conjur'd to this effect,
He wrought upon her.

Duke.

To vouch this, is no proof; Without more certain and more overt test, Than these thin habits, and poor likelihoods Of modern seeming, do prefer against him. 1 Sen. 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.

Oth.

Duke. Fetch Desdemona hither. Oth. Ancient, conduct them; you best know the place.- [Exeunt Iago and Attendants. 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, even from my boyish days,
To the very moment that he bade me tell it.
Wherein I spoke of most disastrous chances,
Of moving accidents, by flood and field;
Ofhair-breadth 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 travel's history:
Wherein of antres vast, and desarts 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. These things 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 begnile 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;

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 us'd;
Here comes the lady, let her witness it.

Enter DESDEMONA, IAGO, and Attendants. Duke. I think, this tale would win my daughter Good Brabantio,

Take up this mangled matter at the best:
Men do their broken weapons rather use,
Than their bare hands.

[too.

band;

And so much duty as my mother shew'd
To you, preferring you before her father,
So much I challenge, that I may profess
Due to the Moor, my lord.

Bra.
God be with you!-I have done :-
Please it your grace, on to the state affairs;
I had rather to adopt a child, than get it.—
Come hither, Moor:

I here do give thee that with all my heart,
Which, but thou hast already, with all my heart
I would keep from thee. For your sake, jewel,
I am glad at soul I have no other child;
For thy escape would teach me tyranny,
To hang clogs on them.-I have done, my lord.
Duke. Let me speak like yourself; and lay a sen-
tence,

Which, as a grise, or step, may help these lovers
Into your favour.

When remedies are past, the griefs are ended,
By seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended.
To mourn a mischief that is past and gone,
Is the next way to draw new mischief on.
What cannot be preserv'd when fortune takes,
Patience her injury a mockery makes.

The robb'd, that smiles, steals something from the

thief;

He robs himself, that spends a bootless grief.
Bra. So let the Turk of Cyprus us beguile;
We lose it not, so long as we can smile.
He bears the sentence well, that nothing bears
But the free comfort, which from thence he hears:
But he bears both the sentence and the sorrow,
That, to pay grief, must of poor patience borrow.
These sentences, to sugar, or to gall,
Being strong on both sides, are equivocal:
But words are words; I never yet did hear
That the bruis'd heart was pierced through the ear.
Jhumbly beseech you, proceed to the affairs of state.
Duke, The Turk with a most mighty preparation

makes for Cyprus :-Othello, the fortitude of the place is best known to you: And though we have there a substitute of most allowed sufficiency, vel opinion, a sovereign mistress of effects, throws a more safer voice on you: you must therefore be content to slubber the gloss of your new fortunes with this more stubborn and boisterous expedition.

Oth. The tyrant custom, most grave senatură,
Hath made the flinty and steel couch of war
My thrice-driven bed of down: I do aguize
A natural and prompt alacrity,

I find in hardness; and do undertake
These present wars against the Ottomites.
Most humbly therefore bending to your state,
I crave fit disposition for my wife;
Due reference of place, and exhibition;
With such accommodation, and besort,
As levels with her breeding.

Duke.

Be't at her father's.
Bra.

Oth. Nor I.
Des.

If you please,

I'll not have it so.

Nor I; I would not there reside,
To put my father in impatient thoughts,
By being in his eye. Most gracious duke,
To my unfolding lend a gracious ear;
And let me find a charter in your voice,
To assist my simpleness.

Duke. What would you, Desdemona?

Des. That I did love the Moor to live with him,
My downright violence and storm of fortunes
May trumpet to the world; my heart's subdued
Even to the very quality of my lord:

I saw Othello's visage in his mind;
And to his honours, and his valiant parts,
Did I my soul and fortunes consecrate.
So that, dear lords, if I be left behind,
A moth of peace, and he go to the war,
The rights, for which I love him, are bereft me,
And I a heavy interim shall support

By his dear absence: Let me go with him.

Oth. Your voices, lords :-'beseech you, let her
Have a free way.

Vouch with me, heaven; I therefore beg it not,
To please the palate of my appetite;
Nor to comply with heat, the young affects,
In my distinct and proper satisfaction;
But to be free and bounteous to her mind:
And heaven defend your good souls, that you think
I will your serious and great business scant,
For she is with me: No, when light-wing'd toys
Of feather'd Cupid seel with wanton dulness
My speculative and active instruments,
That my disports corrupt and taint my business,
Let housewives make a skillet of my helm,
And all indign and base adversities
Make head against my estimation!

Duke. Be it as you shall privately determine, Either for her stay, or going: the affair cries-baste,| And speed must answer it; you must hence to-nightDes. To-night, my lord?

Duke.

Oth.

This night.

With all my heart. Duke. At nine i'the morning here we'll meet

1 Sen. Adieu, brave Moor! use Desdemona well. Bra. Look to her, Moor; have a quick eye to see; She has deceiv'd her father, and may thee.

[Exeunt Duke, Senators, Officers, &c. Oth. My life upon her faith.-Honest Iago, My Desdemona must I leave to thee; I pr'ythee, let thy wife attend on her; And bring them after in the best advantage.-Come, Desdemona; I have but an hour Of love, of worldly matters and direction, To spend with thee: we must obey the time. [Exeunt Othello and Desdemona.

Rod. Iago.

Iago. What say'st thou, noble heart?
Rod. What will I do, thinkest thou?
Iago. Why, go to bed, and sleep.
Rod. I will incontinently drown myself.

Iago. Well, if thou dost, I shall never love thee after it. Why, thou silly gentleman!

Rod. It is silliness to live, when to live is a torment: and then have we a prescription to die, when death is our physician.

Iago. O villanous! I have looked upon the world for four times seven years; and since I could distinguish between a benefit and an injury, I never found a man that knew how to love himself. Ere I would say, I would drown myself for the love of a Guinea-hen, I would change my humanity with a baboon.

Rod. What should I do? I confess, it is my shame to be so fond; but it is not in virtue to amend it.

Iago. Thou art sure of me ;-Go, make money: -I have told thee often, and I re-tell thee again and again, I hate the Moor: My cause is hearted; thine hath no less reason: Let us be conjunctive in our revenge against him: if thou canst cuckold him, thou dost thyself a pleasure, and me a sport. There are many events in the womb of time, which will be delivered. Traverse; go; provide thy money. We will have more of this to-morrow. Adieu.

Rod. Where shall we meet i'the morning?
Iago. At my lodging.

Rod. I'll be with thee betimes.

Iago. Go to; farewell. Do you hear, Roderigo? Rod. What say you?

Iago. No more of drowning, do you hear. Rod. I am changed. I'll sell all my land. Iago. Go to; farewell: put money enough in your purse. [Exit Roderigo. Thus do I ever make my fool my purse: For I mine own gain'd knowledge should profane, If I would time expend with such a snipe, But for my sport and profit. I hate the Moor; And it is thought abroad, that 'twixt my sheets He has done my office: I know not if't be true; But I, for mere suspicion in that kind, Will do, as if for surety. He holds me well; The better shall my purpose work on him. Cassio's a proper man: Let me see now; To get his place, and to plume up my will; A double knavery,-How? how?-Let me see :After some time, to abuse Othello's ear, That he is too familiar with his wife :He hath a person, and a smooth dispose, To be suspected; fram'd to make women false. The Moor is of a free and open nature, That thinks men honest, that but seem to be so; And will as tenderly be led by th' nose, As asses are.

Rod. It cannot be.

Iago. It is merely a lust of the blood, and a permission of the will. Come, be a man: Drown thyself? drown cats, and blind puppies. I have professed me thy friend, and I confess me knit to thy deserving with cables of perdurable toughness; I could never better stead thee than now. Put money in thy purse; follow these wars; defeat thy favour with an usurped beard; I say, put money in thy purse. It cannot be, that Desdemona should long continue her love to the Moor,-put money in thy purse; nor he his to her: it was a violent commencement, and thou shalt see an answerable sequestration;-put but money in thy purse.-These Moors are changeable in their wills;-fill thy purse with money: the food, that to him now is as luscious as locusts, shall be to him shortly as bitter as coloquintida. She must change for youth: when she is sated with his body, she will find the error of her choice. She must have change, she must: therefore put money in thy purse. If thou wilt needs damn thyself, do it a more delicate way than drowning. Make all the money thou canst: If sanctimony and a frail vow, betwixt an erring barbarian and a supersubtle Venetian, be not too hard for my wits, and all the tribe of hell, thou shalt enjoy her; therefore make money. A pox of drowning thyself! it is clean out of the way: seek thou rather to be banged in compassing thy joy, than to be drowned and go without her.

Rod. Wilt thou be fast to my hopes, if I depend on the issue?

I have't;-it is engender'd:-Hell and night Must bring this monstrous birth to the world's light. [Exit.

ACT II.

Enter MONTANO and Two Gentlemen.

Mon. What from the cape can you discern at sea? Gent. Nothing at all: it is a high-wrought flood;

I cannot, 'twixt the heaven and the main,
Descry a sail.

Mon. 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,
What ribs of oak, when mountains melt on them,
Can hold the mortise? what shall we hear of this?
2 Gent. A segregation of the Turkish fleet:
For do but stand upon the foaming shore,
The chiding billow seems to pelt the clouds;
The wind-shak'd surge, with high and monstrous
main,

Seems to cast water on the burning bear,
And quench the guards of th' ever fixed pole:
I never did like molestation view
On the enchafed flood.

Mon.

If that the Turkish fleet

Be not inshelter'd and embay'd, they are drown'd; It is impossible they bear it out.

Enter a Third Gentleman.

3 Gent. News, lords! our wars are done; The desperate tempest bath so bang'd the Turks, That their designment halts: A noble ship of Venice Hath seen a grievous wreck and sufferance On most part of their fleet. Mon.

How is this true? 3 Gent. The ship is here put in, A Veronesé; Michael Cassio,