Bra. What tell'st thou me of robbing? This is Venice:
My house is not a grange.
Rod. Most grave Brabantio,
In simple and pure soul I come to you.
Iago. 'Zounds, sir, you are one of those that will not serve God, if the devil bid you. Because we come to do you service, you think we are ruffians. You'll have your daughter covered with a Barbary horse: you'll have your nephews neigh to you: you'll have coursers for cousins, and gennets for germans.
Bra. What profane wretch art thou?
lago. I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter and the Moor are now making the beast with two backs.
Bra. Thou art a villain. lago.
You are a senator.
Bra. This thou shalt answer: I know thee,
Red. Sir, I will answer anything. But I beseech you,
If't be your pleasure and most wise consent (As parfly I find it is) that your fair daughter, At this odd-even and dull watch o' the night, Transported, with no worse nor better guard But 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 me We have your wrong rebuke. Do not believe
That, from the sense of all civility,
I thus would play and trifle with your reverence: Your daughter,-if you have not given her
I say again, hath made a gross revolt;
Tying her duty, beauty, wit, and fortunes,
In an extravagant and wheeling stranger,
Of here and everywhere. Straight satisfy yourself:
If she be in her chamber or your house, Let loose on me the justice of the state
For 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.— Light, I say; light!
[Exit from above. Iago. Farewell; for I must leave you: It seems not meet, nor wholesome to my place, To be produced (as if I stay I shall) Against the Moor. For I do know, the state (However this may gall him with some check)
Cannot with safety cast him: for he 's embarked With such loud reason to the Cyprus' wars (Which even now stand in act), that, for their souls, Another of his fathom they have not 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 shew out a flag and sign of love, Which is indeed but sign. That you shall surely find him,
Lead to the Sagittary the raiséd search; And there will I be with him. So farewell. [Exit.
Enter, below, BRABANTIO, and Servants, with torches.
Bra. It is too true an evil: gone she is; And what's to come of my despised time Is nought but bitterness.-Now, Roderigo, Where didst thou se her?-O, unhappy girl!With the Moor, say'st thou ?-Who would be a father?
How didst thou know 't was che?-O, thou deceivest me
Past thought!-What said she to you?-Get more tapers;
Raise all my kindred.-Are they married, think you?
Rod. Truly, I think they are.
Bra. O heaven!-How got she out?-O treason of the blood!Fathers, from hence trust not your daughters' minds
By what you see them act.-Are there not charins By which the property of youth and maidhood May be abused? Have you not read, Roderigo, Of some such thing? Rod.
Yes, sir; I have indeed. Bra. Call up my brother.-O, that you had
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 reached. For know, Iago, But that I love the gentle Desdemona, I would not my unhouséd free condition Put into circumscription and confine
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 raiséd father and his friends:
Not I: I must be found:
My parts, my title, and my perfect soul, Shall manifest me rightly. Is it they? Jago. 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, raised and met,
Are at the Duke's already. You have been hotly
When, being not at your lodging to be found, The senate hath sent about three several quests, To search you out
Damned 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 shunned The wealthy curléd 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 't is not gross in sense That thou hast practised on her with foul charms; Abused 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.
Duke. Nay, in all confidence, he's not for Rhodes.
Offi. 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. 1st Sen. Ay, so I thought:-how many, as you
Mess. Of thirty sail: and now do they re-stem Their backward course, bearing with frank appearance
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 Lucchicos, is not he in town? 1st Sen. He's now in Florence.
Duke. Write from us: wish him post-posthaste: despatch.
1st Sen. Here comes Brabantio and the valiant
Oth. 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 offending Hath this extent,-no more. Rude am I in my speech,
And little blessed 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
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 conjured 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. 1st Sen. But, Othello, speak :- Did you, by indirect and forcéd courses Subdue and poison this young maid's affections; Or came it by request, and such fair question As soul to soul affordeth?
Oth. I do beseech you, Send for the lady to the Sagittary.
Oth. Her father loved me; oft invited me; Still questioned me the story of my life, From year to year; the battles, sieges, fortunes, That I have passed.
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 with it all my travel's history: Wherein, of an tres vast and deserts 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 beguile her of her tears, When I did speak of some distressful stroke
my youth suffered. My story being done, gave me for my pains a world of sighs: She swore,-In faith, 't was strange, 't was pass
Twas pitiful, 't was wondrous pitiful: She wished she had not heard it; yet she wished That heaven had made her such a man: she
And that would woo her. Upon this hint, I spake: She loved me for the dangers I had passed; And I loved her that she did pity them. This only is the witchcraft I have used.- Here comes the lady, let her witness it.
Enter DESDEMONA, IAGO, and Attendants. Duke. I think this tale would win my daughter too.- Good Brabantio,
Take up this mangled matter at the best: Men do their broken weapons rather use, Than their bare hands.
Bra. I pray you, hear her speak : If she confess that she was half the wooer, Destruction on my head if my bad blame Light on the man!-Come hither, gentle mistress: Do you perceive, in all this noble company, Where most you owe obedience? My noble father,
I do perceive here a divided duty. To you I am bound for life and education: My life and education both do learn me How to respect you: you are the lord of duty; I am hitherto your daughter. But here's my husband:
And so much duty as my mother shewed 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
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 preserved when fortune takes, Patience her injury a mockery makes.
The robbed that smiles steals something from
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:
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