The Duke and Senators sitting at a table; with lights
There is no composition in these news
That gives them credit.
Indeed they are disproportioned.
My letters say a hundred and seven galleys.
And mine, a hundred and forty.
And mine two hundred;
But though they jump not on a just accompt –
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.
Nay, it is possible enough to judgement:
I do not so secure me in the error,
But the main article I do approve
In fearful sense.
What, ho! What, ho! What, ho!
A messenger from the galleys.
Now, what's the business?
The Turkish preparation makes for Rhodes;
So was I bid report here to the state
By Signor Angelo.
How say you by this change?
This cannot be,
By no assay of reason. 'Tis a pageant
reason (n.) 1
power of reason, judgement, common-sense [often opposed to ‘passion’]
To keep us in false gaze. When we consider
viewing, observation, direction of looking
Th' 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 question bear it,
For that it stands not in such warlike brace,
But altogether lacks th' abilities
That Rhodes is dressed 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 ease and gain
To wake and wage a danger profitless.
Nay, in all confidence he's not for Rhodes.
Here is more news.
Enter a Messenger
The Ottomites, reverend and gracious,
Steering with due course towards the isle of Rhodes,
Have there injointed with an after fleet.
Ay, so I thought. How many, as you guess?
Of thirty sail; and now they do re-stem
Their backward course, bearing with frank appearance
Their purposes toward Cyprus. Signor Montano,
Your trusty and most valiant servitor,
With his free duty recommends you thus,
And prays you to believe him.
'Tis certain then for Cyprus.
Marcus Luccicos, is not he in town?
He's now in Florence.
Write from us: wish him
Here comes Brabantio and the valiant Moor.
Enter Brabantio, Othello, Iago, Roderigo, and
Valiant Othello, we must straight employ you
Against the general enemy Ottoman.
(To Brabantio) I did not see you: welcome, gentle signor;
We lacked your counsel and your help tonight.
So did I yours. Good your grace, pardon 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 yet is still itself.
Why? What's the matter?
My daughter! O, my daughter!
Ay, to me.
She is abused, stolen from me, and corrupted
By spells and medicines bought of mountebanks;
medicine (n.) 5
drug used for purposes other than healing (especially the philosopher's elixir)
For nature so preposterously to err,
Being not deficient, blind, or lame of sense,
sense (n.) 2
ability to respond to sensation, physical perception
Sans witchcraft could not.
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
After your own sense, yea, though our proper son
sense (n.) 4
perception, awareness, discernment, appreciation
Stood in your action.
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.
We are very sorry for't.
What in your own part can you say to this?
Nothing, but this is so.
Most potent, grave and reverend signors,
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 soft phrase of peace;
For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith
Till now some nine moons wasted, they have used
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 unvarnished 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.
A maiden never bold;
Of spirit so still and quiet that her motion
motion (n.) 1
inner movement, inward prompting, natural impulse, imagining
Blushed at herself: and she, in spite of nature,
Of years, of country, credit, everything,
To fall in love with what she feared to look on!
It is a judgement maimed 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.
To vouch this is no proof,
Without more wider and more overt test
Than these thin habits and poor likelihoods
Of modern seeming do prefer against him.
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.
Fetch Desdemona hither.
Ancient, conduct them: you best know the place.
Exeunt Iago with 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.
Say it, Othello.
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 th' 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'th' 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,
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 dispatch
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
That my youth suffered. 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 wished she had not heard it, yet she wished
That heaven had made her such a man. She thanked 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 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
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.
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 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
learn (v.) 1
teach, instruct [not a regional dialect usage as in modern English]
How to respect you. You are the lord of all my duty,
I am hitherto your daughter. But here's my husband;
And so much duty as my mother showed
To you, preferring you before her father,
So much I challenge, that I may profess
Due to the Moor, my lord.
God bu'y! 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.
Let me speak like yourself and lay a sentence
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 the thief;
He robs himself that spends a bootless grief.
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 bruised heart was pieced through the ear.
I humbly beseech you proceed to th' affairs of state.
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 more 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
The tyrant, custom, most grave Senators,
Hath made the flinty and steel couch of war
My thrice-driven bed of down. I do agnize
A natural and prompt alacrity
I find in hardness; and do undertake
This present war 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.
If you please,
Be't at her father's.
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 your prosperous ear,
And let me find a charter in your voice
T' assist my simpleness.
What would you? Speak.
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 honour and his valiant parts
part (n.) 1
quality, attribute, gift, accomplishment [of mind or body]
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.
Let her have your voice.
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 me defunct – 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-winged toys
Of feathered Cupid seel with wanton dullness
[falconry: sewing up a bird's eyelids, as part of taming] sew up, close up, blind
My speculative and officed 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!
Be it as you shall privately determine,
Either for her stay, or going. Th' affair cries haste,
And speed must answer it. You must hence tonight.
Tonight, my lord?
With all my heart.
At nine i'th' 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.
So please your grace, my Ancient.
A man he is of honesty and trust:
To his conveyance I assign my wife,
With what else needful your good grace shall think
To be sent after me.
Let it be so.
Good night to everyone. And, noble signor,
If virtue no delighted beauty lack,
Your son-in-law is far more fair than black.
Adieu, brave Moor: use Desdemona well.
Look to her, Moor, if thou hast eyes to see.
She has deceived her father, and may thee.
My life upon her faith!
Exeunt Duke, Senators, and attendants
My Desdemona must I leave to thee.
I prithee 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
What say'st thou, noble heart?
What will I do, think'st thou?
Why, go to bed and sleep.
I will incontinently drown myself.
If thou dost, I shall never love thee after. Why, thou
It is silliness to live, when to live is torment;
and then we have a prescription to die, when death is
O villainous! I have looked upon the world for four
times seven years, and since I could distinguish betwixt
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.
What should I do? I confess it is my shame to
be so fond, but it is not in my virtue to amend it.
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 sterile with idleness or manured with industry,
why the power and corrigible authority of this lies
in our wills. If the beam of our lives had not one scale
of reason to poise another of sensuality, the blood and
blood (n.) 1
passion, feeling, strong emotion [especially sexual]
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 lusts:
motion (n.) 1
inner movement, inward prompting, natural impulse, imagining
whereof I take this, that you call love, to be a sect or
It cannot be.
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 thou 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
[unclear meaning] fruit of the carob tree, locust-bean
shortly as acerbe as the coloquintida. She must change
for youth: when she is sated with his body she will find
the error of her choice. 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 super-subtle Venetian not too hard
for my wits and all the tribe of hell, thou shalt enjoy
wits, also five wits
faculties of the mind (common wit, imagination, fantasy, estimation, memory) or body (the five senses)
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
Wilt thou be fast to my hopes, if I depend on
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
[mocking name] dishonour a man by making his wife unfaithful
pleasure, 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 tomorrow.
Where shall we meet i'th' morning?
At my lodging.
I'll be with thee betimes.
Go to; farewell. Do you hear, Roderigo?
What say you?
No more of drowning, do you hear?
I am changed.
Go to; farewell. Put money enough in your purse.
I'll sell all my land.
Thus do I ever make my fool my purse:
For I mine own gained 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's 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
In double knavery. How? How? Let's 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, framed 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.
I have't. It is engendered. Hell and night
Must bring this monstrous birth to the world's light.