But let this same be presently perform’d,
Even when men's minds are wild ; lest more mischance
On plots and errors, happen.

Fort. Let four captains
Bear Hamlet, like a soldier, to the stage;
For he was likely, had he been put on,
To have proved most royally; and, for his passage,
The soldier's music, and the rites of war,
Speak loudly for him.-
Take up the bodies :-Such a sight as this
Becomes the field, but here shows much amiss.
Go, bid the soldiers shoot.

[A dead march. [Exeunt, bearing off the dead bodies; after which,

a peal of ordnance is shot off.

OTHELLO, THE MOOR OF VENICE.

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

DUKE OF VENICE.

HERALD
BRABANTIO, a Senator.
Two other SENATORS.

DESDEMONA, Daughter to Bra-
GRATIANO, Brother to Brabantio. | buntio, and Wife to Othello.
LODOVICO, Kinsman to Brabuntio. | EMILIA, Wife to lago.
OTHELLO, the Moor.

BIANCA, a Courtezan, Mistress to CASSIO, his Lieutenant.

Cussio. IAGO, his Ancient. RODERIGO, a Venetian Gentleman. MONTANO, Othello's predecessor in OFFICERS, GENTLEMEN, MESSENthe government of Cyprus.

GERS, MUSICIANS, SAILORS, ATCLOWN, Servant to othello.

TENDANTS, &c.

SCENE, for the first Act, in Venice'; during the rest of the Play,

at a Sea-port in Cyprus.

ACT I.
SCENE I.–Venice. A Street.

Enter RODERIGO and Iago.
Rod. Tush, never tell me, I take it much unkindly,
That thou, Iago,-who hast had my purse,
As if the strings were thine,-shouldst know of this.

Jago. 'Sblood, but you will not hear me:-
If ever I did dream of such a matter,
Abhor me.

Rod. Thou toldst 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, Oft capp'd* to him ;-and, by the faith of man, 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,t. Horribly stuff’d with epithets of war; And, in conclusion, nonsuits My mediators; for, certes, says he, I have already chose my officer. And what was he? Forsooth, a great arithmetician, One Michael Cassio, a Florentine, * Saluted.

+ Circumlocution. VOL. IV.

OTHELLO, THE MOOR OF VENICE. [ACT I.

A fellow almost damn'd in a fair life; de For a GMAIN W
That never set a squadron in the field,
Nor the division of a battle knows
More than a spinster; unless * the bookish theoric, ť
Wherein the togaed consuls can propose
As masterly as he: mere prattle, without practice,
Is all his soldiership. But he, Sir, had the election:
And I,-of whom his eyes had seen the proof,
At Rhodes, at Cyprus; and on other grounds,
Christian and heathen,-must be be-lee'd and calm'd
By debitor and creditor, this counter-caster;
He, in good time, must his lieutenant be,
And I (God bless the mark !), his Moorship's ancient.

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

Iago. But there's no remedy ; 'tis the curse of service;
Preferment goes by letter, and affection,
Not by the old gradation, where each second
Stood heir to the first. Now, Sir, be judge yourself,
Whether I in any just term am aflined 3
To love the Moor.

Rod. I would not follow him then.

Iago. 0, Sir, content you; 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, Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves; And, throwing but shows of service on their lords, 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 Iago: In following him, I follow but myself; Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty, But seeming so, for my peculiar end: For when my outward action doth demonstrate The native act and figure of my heart In compliment extern, I '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 owe, **
If he can carry't thus !
* Except.

+ Theory.
# It was anciently the practice to reckon up sums with counters.
Related.

I Servants.
T Outward show of civility. ** Own, enjoy.

Iago. Call up her father, .
Rouse him : make after him, poison his delight,
Proclaim him in the streets; incense her kinsmen,
And, though he in a fertile climate dwell,
Plague him with flies: though that his joy be joy,
Yet throw such changes of vexation on't,
As it may lose some colour.

Rod. Here is her father's house; I'll call aloud.

Iago. Do; with like timorous accent, and dire yell, Harrowsmag As when, by night and negligence, the fire Is spied in populous cities.

Rod. What, ho! Brabantio! signior Brabantio, ho!

Iago. Awake! what, ho! Brabantio ! thieves ! thieves ! thieves!
Look to your house, your daughter, and your bags !
Thieves ! thieves !

BRABANTIO, above, at a Window.
Bra. What is the reason of this terrible summons ?
What is the matter there?

Rod. Signior, is all your family within ?
Iago. Are your doors lock'd ?
Bra. Why? wherefore ask you this?
Iago. 'Zounds, Sir, you are robb’d; for shame, put on your

gown; .
Your heart is burst,* you have lost half your soul;
Even 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.

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 worse 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 madness,
Being full of supper, and distemperingť draughts,
Upon malicious bravery, dost thou come
To start my quiet.
Rod. Sir, Sir, Sir, 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 nct a grange.

Rod. Most grave Brabantio,
In simple and pure soul I come to you.

Tago. 'Zounds, Sir, you are one of those, tnat will not serve God, if the devilbid you. Because we come to do you service, * I. e. is broken.

+ Intoxicating.

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 ?

Iago. 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.

Rod. Sir, I will answer anything. 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-event 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 leave,-
I say again, hath made a gross revolt:
Tying her duty, beauty, wit, and fortunes,
In an extravagants 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.

Bra. 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 abore.
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 embark'd
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 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.

[Exit. * Nepotes, grandsons.

+ About midnight.
* Approbation.
Ś Wandering.

Dismiss.