Othello

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Original text
Act I, Scene I
Enter Rodorigo, and Iago.

Rodorigo.
NEuer tell me, I take it much vnkindly
That thou (Iago) who hast had my purse,
As if ye strings were thine, should'st know of this.

Ia.
But you'l not heare me.
If euer I did dream / Of such a matter,
abhorre me.

Rodo.
Thou told'st me, / Thou did'st hold him in thy hate.

Iago.
Despise me / If I do not. Three Great-ones of the Cittie,
(In personall suite to make me his Lieutenant)
Off-capt to him: and by the faith of man
I know my price, I am worth no worsse a place.
But he (as louing his owne pride, and purposes)
Euades them, with a bumbast Circumstance,
Horribly stufft with Epithites of warre,
Non-suites my Mediators. For certes, saies he,
I haue already chose my Officer.
And what was he?
For-sooth, a great Arithmatician,
One Michaell Cassio, a Florentine,
(A Fellow almost damn'd in a faire Wife)
That neuer set a Squadron in the Field,
Nor the deuision of a Battaile knowes
More then a Spinster. Vnlesse the Bookish Theoricke:
Wherein the Tongued Consuls can propose
As Masterly as he. Meere pratle (without practise)
Is all his Souldiership. But he (Sir) had th'election;
And I (of whom his eies had seene the proofe
At Rhodes, at Ciprus, and on others grounds
Christen'd, and Heathen) must be be-leed, and calm'd
By Debitor, and Creditor. This Counter-caster,
He (in good time) must his Lieutenant be,
And I (blesse the marke) his Mooreships Auntient.

Rod.
By heauen, I rather would haue bin his hangman.

Iago.
Why, there's no remedie. / 'Tis the cursse of Seruice;
Preferment goes by Letter, and affection,
And not by old gradation, where each second
Stood Heire to'th'first. Now Sir, be iudge your selfe,
Whether I in any iust terme am Affin'd
To loue the Moore?

Rod.
I would not follow him then.

Iago.
O Sir content you.
I follow him, to serue my turne vpon him.
We cannot all be Masters, nor all Masters
Cannot be truely follow'd. You shall marke
Many a dutious and knee-crooking knaue;
That (doting on his owne obsequious bondage)
Weares out his time, much like his Masters Asse,
For naught but Prouender, & when he's old Casheer'd.
Whip me such honest knaues. Others there are
Who trym'd in Formes, and visages of Dutie,
Keepe yet their hearts attending on themselues,
And throwing but showes of Seruice on their Lords
Doe well thriue by them. / And when they haue lin'd their Coates
Doe themselues Homage. / These Fellowes haue some soule,
And such a one do I professe my selfe.
For (Sir)
It is as sure as you are Rodorigo,
Were I the Moore, I would not be Iago:
In following him, I follow but my selfe.
Heauen is my Iudge, not I for loue and dutie,
But seeming so, for my peculiar end:
For when my outward Action doth demonstrate
The natiue act, and figure of my heart
In Complement externe, 'tis not long after
But I will weare my heart vpon my sleeue
For Dawes to pecke at; I am not what I am.

Rod.
What a fall Fortune do's the Thicks-lips owe
If he can carry't thus?

Iago.
Call vp her Father:
Rowse him, make after him, poyson his delight,
Proclaime him in the Streets. Incense her kinsmen,
And though he in a fertile Clymate dwell,
Plague him with Flies: though that his Ioy be Ioy,
Yet throw such chances of vexation on't,
As it may loose some colour.

Rodo.
Heere is her Fathers house, Ile call aloud.

Iago.
Doe, with like timerous accent, and dire yell,
As when (by Night and Negligence) the Fire
Is spied in populus Citties.

Rodo.
What hoa: Brabantio, Siginor Brabantio, hoa.

Iago.
Awake: what hoa, Brabantio: Theeues, Theeues.
Looke to your house, your daughter, and your Bags,
Theeues, Theeues.

Bra.Aboue.
What is the reason of this terrible / Summons?
What is the matter there?

Rodo.
Signior is all your Familie within?

Iago.
Are your Doores lock'd?

Bra.
Why? Wherefore ask you this?

Iago.
Sir, y'are rob'd, for shame put on your Gowne,
Your heart is burst, you haue lost halfe your soule
Euen now, now, very now, an old blacke Ram
Is tupping your white Ewe. Arise, arise,
Awake the snorting Cittizens with the Bell,
Or else the deuill will make a Grand-sire of you.
Arise I say.

Bra.
What, haue you lost your wits?

Rod.
Most reuerend Signior, do you know my voice?

Bra.
Not I: what are you?

Rod.
My name is Rodorigo.

Bra.
The worsser welcome:
I haue charg'd thee not to haunt about my doores:
In honest plainenesse thou hast heard me say,
My Daughter is not for thee. And now in madnesse
(Being full of Supper, and distempring draughtes)
Vpon malitious knauerie, dost thou come
To start my quiet.

Rod.
Sir, Sir, Sir.

Bra.
But thou must needs be sure,
My spirits and my place haue in their power
To make this bitter to thee.

Rodo.
Patience good Sir.

Bra.
What tell'st thou me of Robbing? / This is Venice :
my house is not a Grange.

Rodo.
Most graue Brabantio,
In simple and pure soule, I come to you.

Ia.
Sir: you are one of those that will not serue
God, if the deuill bid you. Because we come to do you
seruice, and you thinke we are Ruffians, you'le haue your
Daughter couer'd with a Barbary horse, you'le haue your
Nephewes neigh to you, you'le haue Coursers for Cozens :
and Gennets for Germaines.

Bra.
What prophane wretch art thou?

Ia.
I am one Sir, that comes to tell you, your Daughter
and the Moore, are making the Beast with two
backs.

Bra.
Thou art a Villaine.

Iago.
You are a Senator.

Bra.
This thou shalt answere. I know thee Rodorigo.

Rod.
Sir, I will answere any thing. But I beseech you
If't be your pleasure, and most wise consent,
(As partly I find it is) that your faire Daughter,
At this odde Euen and dull watch o'th'night
Transported with no worse nor better guard,
But with a knaue of common hire, a Gundelier,
To the grosse claspes of a Lasciuious Moore:
If this be knowne to you, and your Allowance,
We then haue done you bold, and saucie wrongs.
But if you know not this, my Manners tell me,
We haue your wrong rebuke. Do not beleeue
That from the sence of all Ciuilitie,
I thus would play and trifle with your Reuerence.
Your Daughter (if you haue not giuen her leaue)
I say againe, hath made a grosse reuolt,
Tying her Dutie, Beautie, Wit, and Fortunes
In an extrauagant, and wheeling Stranger,
Of here, and euery where: straight satisfie your selfe.
If she be in her Chamber, or your house,
Let loose on me the Iustice of the State
For thus deluding you.

Bra.
Strike on the Tinder, hoa:
Giue me a Taper: call vp all my people,
This Accident is not vnlike my dreame,
Beleefe of it oppresses me alreadie.
Light, I say, light.
Exit.

Iag.
Farewell: for I must leaue you.
It seemes not meete, nor wholesome to my place
To be producted, (as if I stay, I shall,)
Against the Moore. For I do know the State,
(How euer this may gall him with some checke)
Cannot with safetie cast-him. For he's embark'd
With such loud reason to the Cyprus Warres,
(Which euen now stands in Act) that for their soules
Another of his Fadome, they haue none,
To lead their Businesse. In which regard,
Though I do hate him as I do hell apines,
Yet, for necessitie of present life,
I must show out a Flag, and signe of Loue,
(Which is indeed but signe) that you shal surely find him
Lead to the Sagitary the raised Search:
And there will I be with him. So farewell.
Exit.
Enter Brabantio, with Seruants and
Torches.

Bra.
It is too true an euill. Gone she is,
And what's to come of my despised time,
Is naught but bitternesse. Now Rodorigo,
Where didst thou see her? (Oh vnhappie Girle)
With the Moore saist thou? (Who would be a Father?)
How didst thou know 'twas she? (Oh she deceaues me
Past thought:) what said she to you? Get moe Tapers:
Raise all my Kindred. Are they married thinke you?

Rodo.
Truely I thinke they are.

Bra.
Oh Heauen: how got she out? / Oh treason of the blood.
Fathers, from hence trust not your Daughters minds
By what you see them act. Is there not Charmes,
By which the propertie of Youth, and Maidhood
May be abus'd? Haue you not read Rodorigo,
Of some such thing?

Rod.
Yes Sir: I haue indeed.

Bra.
Call vp my Brother: oh would you had had her.
Some one way, some another. Doe you know
Where we may apprehend her, and the Moore?

Rod.
I thinke I can discouer him, if you please
To get good Guard, and go along with me.

Bra.
Pray you lead on. At euery house Ile call,
(I may command at most) get Weapons (hoa)
And raise some speciall Officers of might:
On good Rodorigo, I will deserue your paines.
Exeunt.
Original text
Act I, Scene II
Enter Othello, Iago, Attendants, with Torches.

Ia.
Though in the trade of Warre I haue slaine men,
Yet do I hold it very stuffe o'th'conscience
To do no contriu'd Murder: I lacke Iniquitie
Sometime to do me seruice. Nine, or ten times
I had thought t'haue yerk'd him here vnder the Ribbes.

Othello.
'Tis better as it is.

Iago.
Nay but he prated,
And spoke such scuruy, and prouoking termes
Against your Honor,
that with the little godlinesse I haue
I did full hard forbeare him. But I pray you Sir,
Are you fast married? Be assur'd of this,
That the Magnifico is much belou'd,
And hath in his effect a voice potentiall
As double as the Dukes: He will diuorce you.
Or put vpon you, what restraint or greeuance,
The Law (with all his might, to enforce it on)
Will giue him Cable.

Othel.
Let him do his spight;
My Seruices, which I haue done the Signorie
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 Royall Seige. And my demerites
May speake (vnbonnetted) to as proud a Fortune
As this that I haue reach'd. For know Iago,
But that I loue the gentle Desdemona,
I would not my vnhoused free condition
Put into Circumscription, and Confine,
For the Seas worth. But looke, what Lights come yond?

Iago.
Those are the raised Father, and his Friends:
You were best go in.

Othel.
Not I: I must be found.
My Parts, my Title, and my perfect Soule
Shall manifest me rightly. Is it they?

Iago.
By Ianus, I thinke no.
Enter Cassio, with Torches.

Othel.
The Seruants of the Dukes? / And my Lieutenant?
The goodnesse of the Night vpon you (Friends)
What is the Newes?

Cassio.
The Duke do's greet you (Generall)
And he requires your haste, Post-haste appearance,
Enen on the instant.

Othello.
What is the matter, thinke you?

Cassio.
Something from Cyprus, as I may diuine:
It is a businesse of some heate. The Gallies
Haue sent a dozen sequent Messengers
This very night, at one anothers heeles:
And many of the Consuls, rais'd and met,
Are at the Dukes already. You haue bin hotly call'd for,
When being not at your Lodging to be found,
The Senate hath sent about three seuerall Quests,
To search you out.

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

Cassio.
Aunciant, what makes he heere?

Iago.
Faith, he to night hath boarded a Land Carract,
If it proue lawfull prize, he's made for euer.

Cassio.
I do not vnderstand.

Iago.
He's married.

Cassio.
To who?

Iago.
Marry to---Come Captaine, will you go?

Othel.
Haue with you.

Cassio.
Here comes another Troope to seeke for you.
Enter Brabantio, Rodorigo, with Officers, and Torches.

Iago.
It is Brabantio: Generall be aduis'd,
He comes to bad intent.

Othello.
Holla, stand there.

Rodo.
Signior, it is the Moore.

Bra.
Downe with him, Theefe.

Iago.
You, Rodorigoc?. Cme Sir, I am for you.

Othe.
Keepe vp your bright Swords, for the dew will rust them.
Good Signior, you shall more command with yeares,
then with your Weapons.

Bra.
Oh thou foule Theefe, / Where hast thou stow'd my Daughter?
Damn'd as thou art, thou hast enchaunted her
For Ile referre me to all things of sense,
(If she in Chaines of Magick were not bound)
Whether a Maid, so tender, Faire, and Happie,
So opposite to Marriage, that she shun'd
The wealthy curled Deareling of our Nation,
Would euer haue (t'encurre a generall mocke)
Run from her Guardage to the sootie bosome,
Of such a thing as thou: to feare, not to delight?
Iudge me the world, if 'tis not grosse in sense,
That thou hast practis'd on her with foule Charmes,
Abus'd her delicate Youth, with Drugs or Minerals,
That weakens Motion. Ile haue'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 vpon him, if he do resist
Subdue him, at his perill.

Othe.
Hold your hands
Both you of my inclining, and the rest.
Were it my Cue to fight, I should haue knowne it
Without a Prompter. Whether will you that I goe
To answere this your charge?

Bra.
To Prison, till fit time
Of Law, and course of direct Session
Call thee to answer.

Othe.
What if do obey?
How may the Duke be therewith satisfi'd,
Whose Messengers are heere about my side,
Vpon some present businesse of the State,
To bring me to him.

Officer.
'Tis true most worthy Signior,
The Dukes in Counsell, and your Noble selfe,
I am sure is sent for.

Bra.
How? The Duke in Counsell?
In this time of the night? Bring him away;
Mine's not an idle Cause. The Duke himselfe,
Or any of my Brothers of the State,
Cannot but feele this wrong, as 'twere their owne:
For if such Actions may haue passage free,
Bond-slaues, and Pagans shall our Statesmen be.
Exeunt
Original text
Act I, Scene III
Enter Duke, Senators,
and Officers.

Duke.
There's no composition in this Newes,
That giues them Credite.

1.Sen.
Indeed, they are disproportioned;
My Letters say, a Hundred and seuen Gallies.

Duke.
And mine a Hundred fortie.

2.Sena.
And mine two Hundred:
But though they iumpe not on a iust accompt,
(As in these Cases where the ayme reports,
'Tis oft with difference) yet do they all confirme
A Turkish Fleete, and bearing vp to Cyprus.

Duke.
Nay, it is possible enough to iudgement:
I do not so secure me in the Error,
But the maine Article I do approue
In fearefull sense.

Saylor
within.
What hoa, what hoa, what hoa.

Officer.
A Messenger from the Gallies.
Enter Saylor.

Duke.
Now? What's the businesse?

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 keepe vs in false gaze, when we consider
Th'importancie of Cyprus to the Turke;
And let our selues againe but vnderstand,
That as it more concernes the Turke then Rhodes,
So may he with more facile question beare it,
For that it stands not in such Warrelike brace,
But altogether lackes th'abilities
That Rhodes is dress'd in. If we make thought of this,
We must not thinke the Turke is so vnskillfull,
To leaue that latest, which concernes him first,
Neglecting an attempt of ease, and gaine
To wake, and wage a danger profitlesse.

Duke.
Nay, in all confidence he's not for Rhodes.

Officer.
Here is more Newes.
Enter a Messenger.

Messen.
The Ottamites. Reueren'd, and Gracious,
Steering with due course toward the Ile of Rhodes,
Haue there inioynted them with an after Fleete.

1. Sen.
I, so I thought: how many, as you guesse?

Mess.
Of thirtie Saile: and now they do re-stem
Their backward course, bearing with frank appearance
Their purposes toward Cyprus. Signior Montano,
Your trustie and most Valiant Seruitour,
With his free dutie, recommends you thus,
And prayes you to beleeue him.

Duke.
'Tis certaine then for Cyprus:
Marcus Luccicos is not he in Towne?

1.Sen.
He's now in Florence.

Duke.
Write from vs, / To him,
Post, Post-haste, dispatch.

1.Sen.
Here comes Brabantio, and the Valiant Moore.
Enter Brabantio, Othello, Cassio, Iago, Rodorigo, and
Officers.

Duke.
Valiant Othello, we must straight employ you
Against the generall Enemy Ottoman.
I did not see you: welcome gentle Signior,
We lack't your Counsaile, and your helpe to night.

Bra.
So did I yours: Good your Grace pardon me.
Neither my place, hor ought I heard of businesse
Hath rais'd me from my bed; nor doth the generall care
Take hold on me. For my perticular griefe
Is of so flood-gate, and ore-bearing Nature,
That it engluts, snd swallowes other sorrowes,
And it is still it selfe.

Duke.
Why? What's the matter?

Bra.
My Daughter: oh my Daughter!

Sen.
Dead?

Bra.
I, to me.
She is abus'd, stolne from me, and corrupted
By Spels, and Medicines, bought of Mountebanks;
For Nature, so prepostrously to erre,
(Being not deficient, blind, or lame of sense,)
Sans witch-craft could not.

Duke.
Who ere he be, that in this foule proceeding
Hath thus beguil'd your Daughter of her selfe,
And you of her; the bloodie Booke of Law,
You shall your selfe read, in the bitter letter,
After your owne sense: yea, though our proper Son
Stood in your Action.

Bra.
Humbly I thanke your Grace,
Here is the man; this Moore, whom now it seemes
Your speciall Mandate, for the State affaires
Hath hither brought.

All.
We are verie sorry for't.

Duke.
What in yonr owne part, can you say to this?

Bra.
Nothing, but this is so.

Othe.
Most Potent, Graue, and Reueren'd Signiors,
My very Noble, and approu'd good Masters;
That I haue tane away this old mans Daughter,
It is most true: true I haue married her;
The verie head, and front of my offending,
Hath this extent; no more. Rude am I, in my speech,
And little bless'd with the soft phrase of Peace;
For since these Armes of mine, had seuen yeares pith,
Till now, some nine Moones wasted, they haue vs'd
Their deerest action, in the Tented Field:
And little of this great world can I speake,
More then pertaines to Feats of Broiles, and Battaile,
And therefore little shall I grace my cause,
In speaking for my selfe. Yet, (by your gratious patience)
I will a round vn-varnish'd u Tale deliuer,
Of my whole course of Loue. / What Drugges, what Charmes,
What Coniuration, and what mighty Magicke,
(For such proceeding I am charg'd withall)
I won his Daughter.

Bra.
A Maiden, neuer bold:
Of Spirit so still, and quiet, that her Motion
Blush'd at her selfe, and she, in spight of Nature,
Of Yeares, of Country, Credite, euery thing
To fall in Loue, with what she fear'd to looke on;
It is a iudgement main'd, and most imperfect.
That will confesse Perfection so could erre
Against all rules of Nature, and must be driuen
To find out practises of cunning hell
Why this should be. I therefore vouch againe,
That with some Mixtures, powrefull o're the blood,
Or with some Dram, (coniur'd to this effect)
He wtought vp on her.
To vouch this, is no proofe,
Without more wider, and more ouer Test
Then these thin habits, and poore likely-hoods
Of moderne seeming, do prefer against him.

Sen.
But Othello, speake,
Did you, by indirect, and forced courses
Subdue, and poyson this yong Maides affections?
Or came it by request, and such faire question
As soule, to soule affordeth?

Othel.
I do beseech you,
Send for the Lady to the Sagitary.
And let her speake of me before her Father;
If you do finde me foule, in her report,
The Trust, the Office, I do hold of you,
Not onely take away, but let your Sentence
Euen fall vpon my life.

Duke.
Fetch Desdemona hither.

Othe.
Aunciant, conduct them: / You best know the place.
And tell she come, as truely as to heauen,
I do confesse the vices of my blood,
So iustly to your Graue eares, Ile present
How I did thriue in this faire Ladies loue,
And she in mine.

Duke.
Say it Othello.

Othe.
Her Father lou'd me, oft inuited me:
Still question'd me the Storie of my life,
From yeare to yeare: the Battaile, Sieges, Fortune,
That I haue past.
I ran it through, euen from my boyish daies,
Toth'very moment that he bad me tell it.
Wherein I spoke of most disastrous chances:
Of mouing Accidents by Flood and Field,
Of haire-breadth scapes i'th'imminent deadly breach;
Of being taken by the Insolent Foe,
And sold to slauery. Of my redemption thence,
And portance in my Trauellours historie.
Wherein of Antars vast, and Desarts idle,
Rough Quarries, Rocks, Hills, whose head touch heauen,
It was my hint to speake. Such was my Processe,
And of the Canibals that each others eate,
The Antropophague, and men whose heads
Grew beneath their shoulders. These things to heare,
Would Desdemona seriously incline:
But still the house Affaires would draw her hence:
Which euer as she could with haste dispatch,
She'l'd come againe, and with a greedie eare
Deuoure vp my discourse. Which I obseruing,
Tooke once a pliant houre, and found good meanes
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 instinctiuely: I did consent,
And often did beguile her of her teares,
When I did speake of some distressefull stroke
That my youth suffer'd: My Storie being done,
She gaue me for my paines a world of kisses:
She swore in faith 'twas strange: 'twas passing strange,
'Twas pittifull: 'twas wondrous pittifull.
She wish'd she had not heard it, yet she wish'd
That Heauen had made her such a man. She thank'd me,
And bad me, if I had a Friend that lou'd her,
I should but teach him how to tell my Story,
And that would wooe her. Vpon this hint I spake,
She lou'd me for the dangers I had past,
And I lou'd her, that she did pitty them.
This onely is the witch-craft I haue vs'd.
Here comes the Ladie: Let her witnesse it.
Enter Desdemona, Iago, Attendants.

Duke.
I thinke this tale would win my Daughter too,
Good Brabantio, take vp this mangled matter at the best:
Men do their broken Weapons rather vse,
Then their bare hands.

Bra.
I pray you heare her speake?
If she confesse that she was halfe the wooer,
Destruction on my head, if my bad blame
Light on the man. Come hither gentle Mistris,
Do you perceiue in all this Noble Companie,
Where most you owe obedience?

Des.
My Noble Father,
I do perceiue heere a diuided dutie.
To you I am bound for life, and education:
My life and education both do learne me,
How to respect you. You are the Lord of duty,
I am hitherto your Daughter. But heere's my Husband;
And so much dutie, as my Mother shew'd
To you, preferring you before her Father:
So much I challenge, that I may professe
Due to the Moore my Lord.

Bra.
God be with you: I haue done.
Please it your Grace, on to the State Affaires;
I had rather to adopt a Child, then get it.
Come hither Moore;
I here do giue thee that with all my heart,
Which but thou hast already, with all my heart
I would keepe from thee. For your sake (Iewell)
I am glad at soule, I haue no other Child;
For thy escape would teach me Tirranie
To hang clogges on them. I haue done my Lord.

Duke.
Let me speake like your selfe: / And lay a Sentence,
Which as a grise, or step may helpe these Louers.
When remedies are past, the griefes are ended
By seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended.
To mourne a Mischeefe that is past and gon,
Is the next way to draw new mischiefe on.
What cannot be presern'd, when Fortune takes:
Patience, her Iniury a mock'ry makes.
The rob'd that smiles, steales something from the Thiefe,
He robs himselfe, that spends a bootelesse griefe.

Bra.
So let the Turke of Cyprus vs beguile,
We loose it not so long as we can smile:
He beares the Sentence well, that nothing beares,
But the free comfort which from thence he heares.
But he beares both the Sentence, and the sorrow,
That to pay griefe, must of poore Patience borrow.
These Sentences, to Sugar, or to Gall,
Being strong on both sides, are Equiuocall.
But words are words, I neuer yet did heare:
That the bruized heart was pierc'd through the eares.
I humbly beseech you proceed to th'Affaires of State.

Duke.
The Turke with a most mighty Preparation makes for
Cyprus: Othello, the Fortitude of the place is best knowne
to you. And though we haue there a Substitute of most
allowed sufficiencie; yet opinion, a more soueraigne Mistris
of Effects, throwes a more safer voice on you: you
must therefore be content to slubber the glosse of your
new Fortunes, with this more stubborne, and boystrous
expedition.

Othe.
The Tirant Custome, most Graue Senators,
Hath made the flinty and Steele Coach of Warre
My thrice-driuen bed of Downe. I do agnize
A Naturall and prompt Alacartie,
I finde in hardnesse: and do vndertake
This present Warres against the Ottamites.
Most humbly therefore bending to your State,
I craue fit disposition for my Wife,
Due reference of Place, and Exhibition,
With such Accomodation and besort
As leuels with her breeding.

Duke.
Why at her Fathers?

Bra.
I will not haue it so.

Othe.
Nor I.

Des.
Nor would I there recide,
To put my Father in impatient thoughts
By being in his eye. Most Grcaious Duke,
To my vnfolding, lend your prosperous eare,
And let me finde a Charter in your voice
T'assist my simplenesse.

Duke.
What would you Desdemona?

Des.
That I loue the Moore, to liue with him,
My downe-right violence, and storme of Fortunes,
May trumpet to the world. My heart's subdu'd
Euen to the very quality of my Lord;
I saw Othello's visage in his mind,
And to his Honours and his valiant parts,
Did I my soule and Fortunes consecrate.
So that (deere Lords) if I be left behind
A Moth of Peace, and he go to the Warre,
The Rites for why I loue him, are bereft me:
And I a heauie interim shall support
By his deere absence. Let me go with him.

Othe.
Let her haue your voice.
Vouch with me Heauen, I therefore beg it not
To please the pallate of my Appetite:
Nor to comply with heat the yong affects
In my defunct, and proper satisfaction.
But to be free, and bounteous to her minde:
And Heauen defend your good soules, that you thinke
I will your serious and great businesse scant
When she is with me. No, when light wing'd Toyes
Of feather'd Cupid, seele with wanton dulnesse
My speculatiue, and offic'd Instrument:
That my Disports corrupt, and taint my businesse:
Let House-wiues make a Skillet of my Helme,
And all indigne, and base aduersities,
Make head against my Estimation.

Duke.
Be it as you shall priuately determine,
Either for her stay, or going: th'Affaire cries hast:
And speed must answer it. Sen.You must away to night.

Othe.
With all my heart.

Duke.
At nine i'th'morning, here wee'l meete againe.
Othello, leaue some Officer behind
And he shall our Commission bring to you:
And such things else of qualitie and respect
As doth import you.

Othe.
So please your Grace, my Ancient,
A man he is of honesty and trust:
To his conueyance I assigne my wife,
With what else needfull, your good Grace shall think
To be sent after me.

Duke.
Let it be so:
Good night to euery one. And Noble Signior,
If Vertue no delighted Beautie lacke,
Your Son-in-law is farre more Faire then Blacke.

Sen.
Adieu braue Moore, vse Desdemona well.

Bra.
Looke to her (Moore) if thou hast eies to see:
She ha's deceiu'd her Father, and may thee. Exit.

Ot-he.
My life vpon her faith.
Honest Iago,
My Desdemona must I leaue to thee:
I prythee let thy wife attend on her,
And bring them after in the best aduantage.
Come Desdemona, I haue but an houre
Of Loue, of wordly matter, and direction
To spend with thee. We must obey the the time.
Exit.

Rod.
Iago.

Iago.
What saist thou Noble heart?

Rod.
What will I do, think'st thou?

Iago.
Why go to bed and sleepe.

Rod.
I will incontinently drowne my selfe.

Iago.
If thou do'st, I shall neuer loue thee after. Why thou
silly Gentleman?

Rod.
It is sillynesse to liue, when to liue is torment:
and then haue we a prescription to dye, when death is
our Physition.

Iago.
Oh villanous: I haue look'd vpon the world for foure
times seuen yeares, and since I could distinguish betwixt
a Benefit, and an Iniurie: I neuer found man that knew
how to loue himselfe. Ere I would say, I would drowne
my selfe for the loue of a Gynney Hen, I would change my
Humanity with a Baboone.

Rod.
What should I do? I confesse it is my shame to
be so fond, but it is not in my vertue to amend it.

Iago.
Vertue? A figge, 'tis in our selues that we are thus, or
thus. Our Bodies are our Gardens, to the which, our Wills
are Gardiners. So that if we will plant Nettels, or sowe
Lettice: Set Hisope, and weede vp Time: Supplie it with
one gender of Hearbes, or distract it with many: either to
haue it sterrill with idlenesse, or manured with Industry,
why the power, and Corrigeable authoritie of this lies
in our Wills. If the braine of our liues had not one Scale
of Reason, to poize another of Sensualitie, the blood, and
basenesse of our Natures would conduct vs to most
prepostrous Conclusions. But we haue Reason to coole
our raging Motions, our carnall Stings, or vnbitted Lusts:
whereof I take this, that you call Loue, to be a Sect, or
Seyen.

Rod.
It cannot be.

Iago.
It is meerly a Lust of the blood, and a permission of
the will. Come, be a man: drowne thy selfe? Drown Cats,
and blind Puppies. I haue profest me thy Friend, and
I confesse me knit to thy deseruing, with Cables of perdurable
toughnesse. I could neuer better steed thee then
now. Put Money in thy purse: follow thou the Warres,
defeate thy fauour, with an vsurp'd Beard. I say put
Money in thy purse. It cannot be long that Desdemona should
continue her loue to the Moore. Put Money in thy
purse: nor he his to her. It was a violent Commencement in her,
and thou shalt see an answerable Sequestration,
put but Money in thy purse. These Moores are changeable
in their wils: fill thy purse with Money. The Food
that to him now is as lushious as Locusts, shalbe to him
shortly, as bitter as Coloquintida. She must change
for youth: when she is sated with his body she will find
the errors of her choice. Therefore, put Money in thy
purse. If thou wilt needs damne thy selfe, do it a more
delicate way then drowning. Make all the Money thou
canst: If Sanctimonie, and a fraile vow, betwixt an erring
Barbarian, and super-subtle Venetian be not too hard
for my wits, and all the Tribe of hell, thou shalt enioy
her: therefore make Money: a pox of drowning thy selfe,
it is cleane out of the way. Seeke thou rather to be hang'd
in Compassing thy ioy, then to be drown'd, and go
without her.

Rodo.
Wilt thou be fast to my hopes, if I depend on
the issue?

Iago.
Thou art sure of me: Go make Money: I haue told
thee often, and I re-tell thee againe, and againe, I hate
the Moore. My cause is hearted; thine hath no lesse
reason. Let vs be coniunctiue in our reuenge, against
him. If thou canst Cuckold him, thou dost thy selfe a
pleasure, me a sport. There are many Euents in the
Wombe of Time, which wilbe deliuered. Trauerse, go,
prouide thy Money. We will haue more of this to morrow.
Adieu.

Rod.
Where shall we meete i'th'morning?

Iago.
At my Lodging.

Rod.
Ile be with thee betimes.

Iago.
Go too, farewell. Do you heare Rodorigo?

Rod.
Ile sell all my Land.
Exit.

Iago.
Thus do I euer make my Foole, my purse:
For I mine owne gain'd knowledge should prophane
IfI would time expend with such Snpe,
But for my Sport, and Profit: I hate the Moore,
And it is thought abroad, that 'twixt my sheets
She ha's done my Office. I know not if't be true,
But I, for meere suspition in that kinde,
Will do, as if for Surety. He holds me well,
The better shall my purpose worke on him:
Cassio's a proper man: Let me see now,
To get his Place, and to plume vp my will
In double Knauery. How? How? Let's see.
After some time, to abuse Othello's eares,
That he is too familiar with his wife:
He hath a person, and a smooth dispose
To be suspected: fram'd to make women false.
The Moore is of a free, and open Nature,
That thinkes men honest, that but seeme to be so,
And will as tenderly be lead by'th'Nose
As Asses are:
I haue't: it is engendred: Hell, and Night,
Must bring this monstrous Birth, to the worlds light.
Modern text
Act I, Scene I
Enter Roderigo and Iago

RODERIGO
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.

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

RODERIGO
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-capped 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
Horribly stuffed with epithets of war,
And in conclusion
Non-suits 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 –
A fellow almost damned in a fair wife –
That never set a squadron in the field,
Nor the division of a battle knows
More than a spinster – unless the bookish theoric,
Wherein the toged consuls can propose
As masterly as he. Mere prattle, without practice
Is all his soldiership. But he, sir, had th' election:
And I, of whom his eyes had seen the proof
At Rhodes, at Cyprus, and on other grounds
Christian and heathen, must be leed and calmed
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.

RODERIGO
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 th' first. Now sir, be judge yourself
Whether I in any just term am affined
To love the Moor.

RODERIGO
I would not follow him then.

IAGO
O, sir, content you:
I follow him to serve my turn upon him.
We cannot all be masters, nor all masters
Cannot be truly followed. 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 naught but provender, and when he's old – cashiered!
Whip me such honest knaves. Others there are
Who, trimmed 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, 'tis not long after
But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve
For daws to peck at – I am not what I am.

RODERIGO
What a full fortune does the thick-lips owe
If he can carry't thus!

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 chances of vexation on't,
As it may lose some colour.

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

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

RODERIGO
What, ho, Brabantio! Signor Brabantio, ho!

IAGO
Awake! What, ho, Brabantio! Thieves, thieves!
Look to your house, your daughter, and your bags!
Thieves, thieves!
Enter Brabantio above, at a window

BRABANTIO
What is the reason of this terrible summons?
What is the matter there?

RODERIGO
Signor, is all your family within?

IAGO
Are your doors locked?

BRABANTIO
Why, wherefore ask you this?

IAGO
'Zounds, sir, you're robbed; 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!

BRABANTIO
What, have you lost your wits?

RODERIGO
Most reverend signor, do you know my voice?

BRABANTIO
Not I: what are you?

RODERIGO
My name is Roderigo.

BRABANTIO
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 madness,
Being full of supper and distempering draughts,
Upon malicious bravery dost thou come
To start my quiet.

RODERIGO
Sir, sir, sir –

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

RODERIGO
Patience, good sir.

BRABANTIO
What tell'st thou me of robbing? This is Venice:
My house is not a grange.

RODERIGO
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 jennets for germans.

BRABANTIO
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.

BRABANTIO
Thou art a villain.

IAGO
You are a Senator.

BRABANTIO
This thou shalt answer. I know thee, Roderigo.

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

BRABANTIO
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

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 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.
Exit
Enter Brabantio in his night-gown with servants and
torches

BRABANTIO
It is too true an evil. Gone she is,
And what's to come of my despised time
Is naught 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 me
Past thought! – What said she to you? – Get more tapers.
Raise all my kindred. – Are they married, think you?

RODERIGO
Truly I think they are.

BRABANTIO
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. Is there not charms
By which the property of youth and maidhood
May be abused? Have you not read, Roderigo,
Of some such thing?

RODERIGO
Yes, sir, I have indeed.

BRABANTIO
Call up my brother – O would you had had her!
Some one way, some another. Do you know
Where we may apprehend her and the Moor?

RODERIGO
I think I can discover him, if you please,
To get good guard and go along with me.

BRABANTIO
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
Modern text
Act I, Scene II
Enter Othello, Iago, attendants with torches

IAGO
Though in the trade of war I have slain men,
Yet do I hold it very stuff o'th' conscience
To do no contrived murder: I lack iniquity
Sometimes to do me service. Nine or ten times
I had thought t' have yerked him here under the ribs.

OTHELLO
'Tis better as it is.

IAGO
Nay, but he prated
And spoke such scurvy and provoking terms
Against your honour,
That with the little godliness I have,
I did full hard forbear him. But I pray, sir,
Are you fast married? For be assured of this,
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.

OTHELLO
Let him do his spite:
My services, which I have done the signory,
Shall out-tongue his complaints. 'Tis yet to know –
Which, when I know that boasting is an honour,
I shall provulgate – 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 unhoused free condition
Put into circumscription and confine
For the seas' worth. But look, what lights come yond!

IAGO
Those are the raised father and his friends:
You were best go in.

OTHELLO
Not I: I must be found.
My parts, my title, and my perfect soul
Shall manifest me rightly. Is it they?

IAGO
By Janus, I think no.
Enter Cassio, with men bearing torches

OTHELLO
The servants of the Duke and my Lieutenant!
The goodness of the night upon you, friends.
What is the news?

CASSIO
The Duke does greet you, General,
And he requires your haste-post-haste appearance
Even on the instant.

OTHELLO
What is the matter, think you?

CASSIO
Something from Cyprus, as I may divine:
It is a business of some heat. The galleys
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 called for,
When being not at your lodging to be found.
The senate hath sent about three several quests
To search you out.

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

CASSIO
Ancient, what makes he here?

IAGO
Faith, he tonight hath boarded a land carack:
If it prove lawful prize, he's made for ever.

CASSIO
I do not understand.

IAGO
He's married.

CASSIO
To who?

IAGO
Marry, to – Come, Captain, will you go?
Enter Othello

OTHELLO
Have with you.

CASSIO
Here comes another troop to seek for you.
Enter Brabantio, Roderigo, with officers and torches

IAGO
It is Brabantio: General, be advised,
He comes to bad intent.

OTHELLO
Holla, stand there.

RODERIGO
Signor, it is the Moor.

BRABANTIO
Down with him, thief!

IAGO
You, Roderigo! Come, sir, I am for you.

OTHELLO
Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust them.
Good signor, you shall more command with years
Than with your weapons.

BRABANTIO
O thou foul thief! Where hast thou stowed my daughter?
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 curled darlings of our nation,
Would ever have – t' 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 practised on her with foul charms,
Abused her delicate youth with drugs or minerals
That weakens 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.

OTHELLO
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?

BRABANTIO
To prison, till fit time
Of law and course of direct session
Call thee to answer.

OTHELLO
What if I do obey?
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?

FIRST OFFICER
'Tis true, most worthy signor:
The Duke's in council, and your noble self
I am sure is sent for.

BRABANTIO
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,
Bondslaves and pagans shall our statesmen be.
Exeunt
Modern text
Act I, Scene III
The Duke and Senators sitting at a table; with lights
and attendants

DUKE
There is no composition in these news
That gives them credit.

FIRST SENATOR
Indeed they are disproportioned.
My letters say a hundred and seven galleys.

DUKE
And mine, a hundred and forty.

SECOND SENATOR
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.

DUKE
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.

SAILOR
(without)
What, ho! What, ho! What, ho!

FIRST OFFICER
A messenger from the galleys.
Enter Sailor

DUKE
Now, what's the business?

SAILOR
The Turkish preparation makes for Rhodes;
So was I bid report here to the state
By Signor Angelo.

DUKE
How say you by this change?

FIRST SENATOR
This cannot be,
By no assay of reason. 'Tis a pageant
To keep us in false gaze. When we consider
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.

DUKE
Nay, in all confidence he's not for Rhodes.

FIRST OFFICER
Here is more news.
Enter a Messenger

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

FIRST SENATOR
Ay, so I thought. How many, as you guess?

MESSENGER
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.

DUKE
'Tis certain then for Cyprus.
Marcus Luccicos, is not he in town?

FIRST SENATOR
He's now in Florence.

DUKE
Write from us: wish him
Post-post-haste dispatch.

FIRST SENATOR
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 signor;
We lacked your counsel and your help tonight.

BRABANTIO
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.

DUKE
Why? What's the matter?

BRABANTIO
My daughter! O, my daughter!

SENATORS
Dead?

BRABANTIO
Ay, to me.
She is abused, stolen from me, and corrupted
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
After your own sense, yea, though our proper son
Stood in your action.

BRABANTIO
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.

ALL
We are very sorry for't.

DUKE
What in your own part can you say to this?

BRABANTIO
Nothing, but this is so.

OTHELLO
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.

BRABANTIO
A maiden never bold;
Of spirit so still and quiet that her motion
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.

DUKE
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.

FIRST SENATOR
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?

OTHELLO
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.

OTHELLO
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.

DUKE
Say it, Othello.

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

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.

BRABANTIO
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?

DESDEMONA
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 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.

BRABANTIO
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.

DUKE
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.

BRABANTIO
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.

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 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
expedition.

OTHELLO
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.

DUKE
If you please,
Be't at her father's.

BRABANTIO
I'll not have it so.

OTHELLO
Nor I.

DESDEMONA
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.

DUKE
What would you? Speak.

DESDEMONA
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
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.

OTHELLO
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
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!

DUKE
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.

DESDEMONA
Tonight, my lord?

DUKE
This night.

OTHELLO
With all my heart.

DUKE
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.

OTHELLO
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.

DUKE
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.

FIRST SENATOR
Adieu, brave Moor: use Desdemona well.

BRABANTIO
Look to her, Moor, if thou hast eyes to see.
She has deceived her father, and may thee.

OTHELLO
My life upon her faith!
Exeunt Duke, Senators, and attendants
Honest Iago,
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

RODERIGO
Iago.

IAGO
What say'st thou, noble heart?

RODERIGO
What will I do, think'st thou?

IAGO
Why, go to bed and sleep.

RODERIGO
I will incontinently drown myself.

IAGO
If thou dost, I shall never love thee after. Why, thou
silly gentleman!

RODERIGO
It is silliness to live, when to live is torment;
and then we have 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 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.

RODERIGO
What should I do? I confess it is my shame to
be so fond, but it is not in my 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 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
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:
whereof I take this, that you call love, to be a sect or
scion.

RODERIGO
It cannot be.

IAGO
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
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
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.

RODERIGO
Wilt thou be fast to my hopes, if I depend on
the issue?

IAGO
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
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.
Adieu.

RODERIGO
Where shall we meet i'th' morning?

IAGO
At my lodging.

RODERIGO
I'll be with thee betimes.

IAGO
Go to; farewell. Do you hear, Roderigo?

RODERIGO
What say you?

IAGO
No more of drowning, do you hear?

RODERIGO
I am changed.

IAGO
Go to; farewell. Put money enough in your purse.

RODERIGO
I'll sell all my land.
Exit

IAGO
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.
Exit
SHAKESPEARE'S WORDS © 2018 DAVID CRYSTAL & BEN CRYSTAL