SCENE I. Venice. A street.

Enter RODERIGO and IAGO.

Rod. 'Tush! never tell me; I take it much unkindly

That thou, lago, who hast had my purse
As if the strings were thine, should'st know of this.
Iago. 'Sblood, but you will not hear me:
If ever I did dream of such a matter,
Abhor me.

Rod. Thou told'st me thou didst hold him in thy hate.

Iago. Despise me, if I do not. Three great ones of the city,

In personal suit to make me his lieutenant,
Off-capp'd to him: and, by the faith of man, 10
I know my price, I am worth no worse a place:
But he, as loving his own pride and purposes,
Evades them, with a bombast circumstance
Horribly stuff'd with epithets of war;

And, in conclusion,

Rod. By heaven, I rather would have been his hangman.

Iago. Why, there's no remedy; 'tis the curse of service,

Preferment goes by letter and affection,
And not by old gradation, where each second
Stood heir to the first. Now, sir, be judge your-
self,

Whether I in any just term am affined
To love the Moor.

I follow him to serve my turn upon him:
We cannot all be masters, nor all masters
Cannot be truly follow'd. You shall mark
Many a duteous and knee-crooking knave,
That, doting on his own obsequious bondage,
Wears out his time, much like his master's ass,
For nought but provender, and when he's old,
cashier'd:

Whip me such honest knaves. Others there are
Who, trimm'd in forms and visages of duty, 50
Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves,

I have already chose my officer.'

And what was he?

Do well thrive by them and when they have lined their coats

Do themselves homage: these fellows have some soul;

And such a one do I profess myself. For, sir,
It is as sure as you are Roderigo,
Were I the Moor, I would not be lago:
In following him, I follow but myself;
Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty,
But seeming so, for my peculiar end: бо
For when my outward action doth demonstrate
The native act and figure,of my heart
In compliment extern, 'tis not long after
But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve
For daws to peck at: I am not what I am.
Rod. What a full fortune does the thick-lips

BRABANTIO appears above, at a window. Bra. What is the reason of this terrible summons?

What is the matter there?

Rot. Signior, is all your family within?
Iago. Are your doors lock'd?
Bra.
Why, wherefore ask you this?
Lago. 'Zounds, sir, you're robb'd; for shame,
put on your gown;

Your heart is burst, you have lost half your soul;
Even now, now, very now, an old black ram
Is tupping your white ewe. Arise, arise;
Awake the snorting citizens with the bell,
Or else the devil will make a grandsire of you:
Arise, I say.

90

Bra. What, have you lost your wits?
Rod. Most reverend signior, do you know
my voice?

Bra. Not I: what are you?
Rod. My name is Roderigo.
Bra.

The worser welcome:
I have charged thee not to haunt about my doors:
In honest plainness thou hast heard me say
My daughter is not for thee; and now, in mad.

ness,

100

Being full of supper and distempering draughts,
Upon malicious bravery, dost thou come
To start my quiet.
Rod. Sir, sit, sir,

Bra.

But thou must needs be sure
My spirit and my place have in them power
To make this bitter to thee.

Rod.
Patience, good sir.
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 and 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? Fago. 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.

Iago.

You are a senator. Bra. This thou shalt answer; I know thee, Roderigo.

120

Rod. Sir, I will answer any thing. But I beseech you,

If't be your pleasure and most wise consent,
As partly 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 137
We have your wrong rebuke. Do not believe
That, from the sense of all civility,

I thus would play and tride with your reverence:
Your daughter, if you have not given her leave,
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 your-
self:

If she be in her chamber or your house,
Let loose on me the justice of the state
For thus deluding you.

Bra.

140

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 above. lago. Farewell; for I must leave you: It seems not meet, nor wholesome to my place, To be produced-as, if I stay, I shallAgainst the Moor: for, I do know, the state, However this may gall him with some check, Cannot with safety cast him, for he's embark'd With such loud reason to the Cyprus wars, 151 Which even now stand in act, that, for their souls, Another of his fathom they have none, 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 show out a flag and sign of love, Which is indeed but sign. That you shall surely find him,

Lead to the Sagittary the raised search; And there will I be with him. So, farewell. 160 [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 see her? O unhappy girl! With the Moor, say'st thou ? Who would be a father?

How didst thou know 'twas she? O, she deceives

Some one way, some another. Do you know
Where we may apprehend her and the Moor?
Rod. I think I can discover him, if you please
To get good guard and go along with me. 180
Bra. Pray you, lead on. At every house
I'll call;

I may command at most. Get weapons, ho!
And raise some special officers of night.
On, good Roderigo: I'll deserve your pains.
[Exeunt.

SCENE II. Another street. Enter OTHELLO, IAGO, and Attendants, with torches.

Iago. Though in the trade of war I have slain

men,

Yet do I hold it very stuff o' the conscience
To do no contrived murder: I lack iniquity
Sometimes to do me service: nine or ten times
I had thought to have yerk'd him here under
the ribs.

Oth. 'Tis better as it is.
Lago.

Nay, but he prated, And spoke such scurvy and provoking terms Against your honor

That, with the little godliness I have,

I did full hard forbear him. But, I pray you, sir,

Are you fast married? Be assured of this, 11
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 honor,
I shall promulgate-I fetch my life and being 21
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 confine
For the sea's worth. But, look! what lights come
yond?
[friends:
Iago. Those are the raised father and his
You were best go in.
Oth.

Not I; I must be found: 30
My parts, my title and my perfect soul
Shall manifest me rightly. Is it they?
lago. By Janus, I think no.

Enter CASSIO, and certain Officers with torches. Oth. The servants of the duke, and my lieu

tenant.

The goodness of the night upon you, friends! What is the news?

lago. Marry, to-Come, captain, will you go?
Oth.
Have with you.
Cas. Here comes another troop to seek for you.
Iago. It is Brabantio. General, be advised;
He comes to bad intent.

Enter BRABANTIO, RODERIGO, and Officers
with torches and weapons.
Oth.
Holla! stand there!
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. 61

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 70
Of such a thing as thou, to fear, not to delight.
Judge me the world, if 'tis not gross in sense
That thou hast practised on her with foulcharms,
Abused her delicate youth with drugs or minerals
That weaken motion: I'll have't 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.

80

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?

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?

90

First 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 composition in these news That gives them credit.

First Sen. Indeed, they are disproportion'd; My letters say a hundred and seven galleys. Duke. And mine, a hundred and forty. Sec. 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 judg

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 profitless.

30

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. First Sen. Ay, so I thought. How many,

as you guess?

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

40

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 Luccicos, is not he in town?
First Sen. He's now in Florence.

Duke. Write from us to him; post-post-haste despatch.

First 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. [To Brabantio I did not see you; welcome, gentle signior;

50

We lack'd your counsel and you help to-night. Bra. So did I yours. Good your grace, par

don me;

Neither my place nor aught I heard of business Hath raised me from my bed, nor doth the general care

Take hold on me, for my particular grief
Is of so flood-gate and o'erbearing nature
That it engluts and swallows other sorrows
And it is still itself.
Duke.
Why, what's the matter?
Bra. My daughter! O, my daughter!
Duke and Sen.
Dead?
Bra.
Ay, to me;

She is abused, stol'n from me, and corrupted 60
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.

Duke. Whoe'er he be that in this foul proceeding

Hath thus beguiled your daughter of herself
And you of her, the bloody book of law

You shall yourself read in the bitter letter [son
After your own sense, yea, though our proper
Stood in your action.
Bra.
Humbly I thank your grace. 70
Here is the man, this Moor, whom now, it
seems,

Your special mandate for the state affairs
Hath hither brought.

Duke and Sen. We are very sorry for't. Duke. To Othello] What, in your own part, can you say to this?

Bra. Nothing, but this is so.

[iors,

Oth. Most potent, grave, and reverend sign

That I have ta'en away this old man's daughter, It is most true; true, I have married her:

First Off. Here is more news.

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.

100

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 conjured to this effect, He wrought upon her.

Duke.

To vouch this, is no proof, Without more wider or more overt test Than these thin habits and poor likelihoods Of modern seeming do prefer against him. First 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?

Oth.

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.

Duke. Fetch Desdemona hither. 120 Oth. Ancient, conduct them: you best know the place. [Exeunt lago 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.

129

Oth. Her father loved 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 spake 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 travels' history:

Wherein of antres vast and deserts idle,

140

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. This to hear
Would Desdemona seriously incline:

But still the house-affairs would draw her thence:
Which ever as she could with haste despatch,
She'ld come again, and with a greedy ear
Devour up my discourse: which I observing, 150
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
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,
165

'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 loved her,
I should but teach him how to tell my story,
And that would woo her. Upon this hint I
spake:

She loved me for the dangers I had pass'd,
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. 170
Enter DESDEMona, Iago, and Attendants.
Duke. I think this tale would win my
daughter too.

Good Brabantio,

My noble father, 180

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 show'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 wi' you! I have done.
Please it your grace, on to the state-affairs: 190
I had rather to adopt a child than get it.
Come hither, Moor: