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.

'Tis well I am found by you.
I will but spend a word here in the house,
And go with you.
Cas.

[Exit. Ancient, what makes he here? Iago. 'Faith, he to-night hath boarded a land carack;7

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

Cas. I do not understand.
Iago.

Cas.

He's married.

To who?

Re-enter OTHELLO.

Iago. Marry, to-Come, captain, will you go? Oth. Have with you. Cas. Here comes another troop to seek for you. Enter BRABANTIO, RODERIGO, and Officers of night, with Torches and Weapons.

Iago. It is Brabantio:-general, be advis'd; He comes to bad intent.

Hola! stand there!

Oth.
Rod. Signior, it is the Moor.
Bra.

Down with him, thief! [They draw on both sides. Iago. You, Roderigo! come sir, I am for you. Oth. Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust them.

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

Bra. O thou foul thief, where hast thou stow'd 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 motion:-I'll have it disputed on;
'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.

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?
Off
'Tis true, most worthy signior,
The duke's in council; and your noble self,
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.
[Exeunt.

SCENE III-A Council Chamber. The DUKE and Senators, sitting at a Table; Officers attending. Duke. There is no compositions in these news, That gives them credit. 1 Sen. Indeed, they are disproportion'd; My letters say, a hundred and seven galleys.

A rich vessel.

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 aim9 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 ine in the error,
But the main article I do approve
In fearful sense.

Sailor. Within.] What ho! what ho! what ho!
Enter an Officer, with a Sailor.
Off. A messenger from the galleys.
Duke.
Now! the business?
Sailor. 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,
That, as it more concerns the Turk than Rhodes,
So may he with more facile question1 bear it,
For that it stands not in such warlike brace,2
But altogether lacks the abilities

That Rhodes is dress'd in:-if we make thought of this,

We must not think, the Turk is so unskilful,
To leave that latest which concerns him first;
Neglecting an attempt of case and gain,

To wake and wage3 a danger profitless.
Duke. Nay, in all confidence, he's not for Rhodes.
Off. Here is more news.

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. The Ottomites, reverend and gracious, Steering with due course toward the isle of Rhodes, Have there injointed them with an after fleet.

1 Sen. Ay, so I thought:-How many, as you guess?

Mess. Of thirty sail: and now do they re-stem Their backward course, bearing with frank appear.

ance

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.

1 Sen. Here comes Brabantio and the valiant Moor.

Enter BRABANTIO, OTHELLO, IAGO, Roderigo, and Officers.

Duke. Valiant Othello, we must straight employ you

Against the general enemy Ottoman.

I did not see you; welcomie, gentle signior;
[To BRABANTIO.
We lack'd your counsel and your help to-night.
Bra. So did I yours: Good your grace, pardon

Easy dispute.

State of defence. • Without.

754

OTHELLO,

After your own sense; yea, though our proper son
Stood in your action.5
Humbly I thank your grace.
Bra.
Here is the man, this Moor; whom now, it seems,
Your special mandate, for the state affairs,
Hath hither brought.
We are very sorry for it.
Duke & Sen.
Duke. What, in your own part, can you say to
[TO OTHELLO.
this?

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.

speech.

Rude am I in my

And little bless'd with the set phrase of peace;
For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith,
Till now some nine moons wasted, they have used
Their dearest actions 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 charged withal,)
I won his daughter with.

A maiden never bold;
Bra.
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,7
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, or such fair question
As soul to soul affordeth?
Oth.

I do beseech you,
Send for the lady to the Sagittary,9
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.

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 years I'll present
How I did thrive in this fair lady's love,
And she is 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;

Of hair-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 antres2 vast, and deserts idle,
Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads touch
heaven,

strange;

too.

My noble father,

band;

sentence,

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

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:

a Intention and attention were once synonymous.
Grise, from degrees.

But words are words; I never yet did hear, That the bruis'd heart was pierced through the ear. I humbly 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, yet 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 senators, Hath made the flinty and steel couch of war My thrice-driven bed of down: I do agnizes 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 accominodation, 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 honors, 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 rites, 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 will 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,8

In my distinct and proper satisfaction;
But to be free and bounteous to her mind:

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 pry'thee, 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.

Iugo. 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 villainous! 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. Virtue? a fig! 'tis in ourselves, that we are thus, or thus. Our bodies are our gardens, to the which, our wills are gardeners: so that if we will plant nettles, or sow lettuce; set hyssop, and weed up thyme; supply it with one gender of herbs, or distract it with many; either to have it steril with idleness, or manured with industry; why, the power and corrigible authority of this lies in our wills. If the balance of our lives had not one scale of reason to poise another of sensuality, the blood and baseness of our natures would conduct us to most preposterous conclusions: But we have reason to cool our raging motions, our carnal stings, our unbitted lust; whereof I take this, that you calllove, to be a sect or scion.

Rod. It cannot be.

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 skillet3 of my helm,4
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 crieshaste,

And speed must answer it; you must hence tonight.

Des. To-night, my lord? Duke.

Oth.

This night.

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

Othello, leave some officer behind,

And he shall our commission bring to you;
With such things else of quality and respect,
As doth import you.

Oth.

Please your grace, my ancient; A man he is of honesty and trust: To his conveyance I assign my wife,

Put

money in thy purse; follow these wars; defeat thy favor 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 hanged 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?

Iago. Thou art sure of me;-Go, make money:

Let it be so.

If virtue no delighted beauty lack,
Your son-in-law is far more fair than black.

1 Sen. Adieu, brave Moor! use Desdemona well.

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

756

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.

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

lago. 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 [Exit RODERIGO. your purse. 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;

SCENE I-A Sea-port Town in Cyprus. A

Platform.

Enter MONTANO and two Gentlemen.

Mon. What from the cape can you discern at sea? 1 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-shaked surge, with high and monstrous
main,

Seems to cast water on the burning bear,2
And quench the guards of the ever-fixed pole:
I never did like molestation view
On th' 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 hath 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,

Lieutenant to the warlike Moor, Othello,
Is come on shore: The Moor himself's at sea,
And is in full commission here for Cyprus.
Mom. I am glad on't; 'tis a worthy governor.
3 Gent. But this same Cassio,-though he speak

of comfort.

Touching the Turkish loss,-yet he looks sadly, And prays the Moor be safe; for they were parted With foul and violent tempest.

'Pray heaven he be;
Mon.
For I have serv'd him, and the man commands
Like a full soldier. Let's to the sea-side, ho!
As well to see the vessel that's come in,
As to throw out our eyes for brave Othello;
Even till we make the main, and the aërial blue,
An indistinct regard.

3 Gent.
Come, let's do so;
For every minute is expectancy
Of more arrivance.

Enter CASSIO.

Cas. Thanks to the valiant of this warlike isle, That so approve the Moor; O, let the heavens Give him defence against the elements, For I have lost him on a dangerous sea! Mon. Is he well shipp'd?

Cas. His bark is stoutly timber'd, and his pilot Of very expert and approv'd allowance :3

Separation.

The constellation near the polar star. Allowed and approved expertness.

A sail, a sail, a sail!

Enter a Gentleman.

sea

[Exit.

Mon.

What is she?

Cas. She that I spake of, our great captain's captain,

Left in the conduct of the bold Iago;
Whose footing here anticipates our thoughts,
A se'nnight's speed.-Great Jove, Othello guard,
And swell his sail with thine own powerful breath;
That he may bless this bay with his tall ship,
Make love's quick pants in Desdemona's arms,
Give renew'd tire to our extincted spirits,
And bring all Cyprus comfort!-O, behold,
Enter DESDEMONA, EMILIA, IAGO, RODERIGO, and
Attendants.

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,
Enwheel thee round!

Des.
I thank you, valiant Cassio.
What tidings can you tell me of my lord?
Cas. He is not yet arrived; nor know I aught
But that he's well, and will be shortly here.

Des. O, but I fear;-How lost you company? Cas. The great contention of the sea and skies Parted our fellowship: But, hark! a sail!

[Cry within, A sail, a sail! Then Guns heard. 2 Gent. They give their greeting to the citadel; This likewise is a friend.