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, below, Brabantio, and Servants with
torches.

Bra. It is too true an evil : gone she is ;
And what's to come of my despised tinae
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

me
Past thought ! What said she to you ? Get more

tapers :
Raise all my kindred. Are they married, think

you?

Rod. Truly, I think they are.
Bra. O heaven ! How got she out ? O trea-
son 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 ?

Rod. Yes, sir, I have indeed.

Bra. Call up my brother. 0, would you had

had her !

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.

Bra. Pray you, lead on. At every house I '11 call;
I may command at most. Get weapons, ho !
And raise some special officers of night.
On, good Roderigo : I '11 deserve your pains.

Exeunt.

Scene II. Another Street.
Enter Othello, lago, and Attendants with torches.

lago. 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-
Some times 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 honour
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,
That the Magnifico is much beloved ,
And hath in his effect a voice potential
As double as the duke's. He will divorce you ;



ACT I., Sc. 3.



OTHELLO, THE MOOR OF VENICE.



895



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 honour,
I shall promulgate I fetch my life and being
From men of royal siege, and my demerits
May speak unbonneted to as proud a fortune
As this that I have reached : for know, 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 ?

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

Oth. Not I ; I must be found :

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 ?

Gas. The duke does greet you, general,

And he requires your haste-post-haste appearance,
Even on the instant.

Oth. What is the matter, think you ?

Cas. Something from Cyprus, as I may divine :
It is a business of some heat. The 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 't

call'd for ;

When, being not at your lodging to be found,
The senate hath sent about three several quests
To search you out.

Oth. 'Tis well I am found by you.

I will but spend a word here in the house,
And go with you. Exit.

Cas. Ancient, what makes he here ?

lago. 'Faith, he to-night hath boarded a land

carack :
If it prove lawful prize, he 's made for ever.

Cas. I do not understand.

lago. He 's married.

Cas. To who ?

Re-enter Othello.

Jar/o. Marry, to Come, captain, will you go ?
Oth. Have with you.

Cas. Here comes another troop to seek for you.
lago. It is Brabantio. General, be advised ;
He comes to bad intent.
Enter Brabantio, Roderigo, cmd Officers icith

torches and weapons.
Oth. Holla! stand there!

Rod. Signior, it is the Moor.
Bra. Down with him, thief !

They draw on both sides.

lago. You, Eoderigo ! 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.

Bra. thou foul thief, where hast thou stow'd

my daughter ?

Damn'd as thou art, thou hast enchanted her;
For I '11 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
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 weaken motion : I '11 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.

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. Whither will you that

I go
To answer this your charge ?

Bra. To prison, till fit time

Of law and course of direct session
Call thee to answer.

Oth. 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 ?

1 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.

1 Sen. Indeed, they are disproportion' d ;
My letters say a hundred and seven galleys.

Duke. And mine, a hundred and forty.

2 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 judgment :
I do not so secure me in the error,
But the main article I do approve
In fearful sense.

Sai. [Within.'] What, ho ! what, ho ! what, ho !

1 Off. A messenger from the galleys.



896



OTHELLO, THE MOOR OF VENICE.



ACT I., Sc. 3.



Duke. Now, what 's the business ?

Sai. The Turkish preparation makes for Khodes ;
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 keep us in false gaze. When we consider
The 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 the 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.

1 Off. Here is more news.

Enter a Messenger.

Mes. The Ottomites, reverend and gracious,
Steering with due course towards the isle of



Have there injointed them with an after fleet.
1 Sen. Ay, so I thought. How many, as you

guess ?

Mes. Of thirty sail : and now they do re-stem
Their backward course, bearing with frank ap-
pearance

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 ?
1 Sen. He 's now in Florence.
Duke. Write from us to him; post-post-haste

dispatch.

1 Sen. Here comes Brabantio and the valiant
Moor.

Enter Brabantio, Othello, lago, Roderigo and

Officers.

Duke. Valiant Othello, we must straight em-
ploy you

Against the general enemy Ottoman.
[To Brabantio.] I did not see you; welcome,

gentle Signior ;

We lacked your counsel and your help to-night.
Bra. 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 it is still itself.

Duke. Why, what 's the matter ?

Bra. My daughter ! 0, my daughter !
Duke and Sen. Dead ?

Bra. Ay, to me ;

She is abused, stol'n from me and corrupted



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.

Bra. 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.

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.

Oth. Most potent, grave, and reverend Signiors,
My very noble and approved good masters,
That I have ta'en away this old man's daughter,
It is most true ; true, I have married her :
The very head and front of my offending
Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my

speech,

And little blessed with the 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.

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 feared 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 and more overt test
Than these thin habits and poor likelihoods
Of modern seeming do prefer against him.

1 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.



ACT I., Sc. 3.



OTHELLO, THE MOOR OF VENICE.



897






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 '11 present
How I did thrive in this fair lady's love,
And she in mine.

Duke. Say it, Othello.
Oth . Her father loved me ; oft invited me ;
Still questioned me the story of my life,
From year to year, the battles, sieges, fortunes,
That I have passed.

I ran it through, even from my boyish days,
To the very moment that he bade me tell it ;
Wherein I 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 traveller's history :
Wherein of antars vast and deserts idle,
Eough quarries, rocks and hills whose heads touch

heaven,

It was my hint to speak. Such was the process ;
And of the Cannibals that each other eat,
The Anthropophagi and men whose heads
Do grow beneath their shoulders. These things

to hear

Would Desdemona seriously incline :
But still the house-affairs would draw her hence :
Which ever as she could with haste dispatch,
She 'Id 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,

'T was 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

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, lago and Attendants.

Duke. I think this tale would win my daughter

too.

Good Brabantio,

Take up this mangled matter at the best :
Men do their broken weapons rather use
Than their bare hands.

Bra. I pray you, hear her speak :

If she confess that she was half the wooer,
Destruction on my head, if my bad blame



Do you perceive in all this noble company
Where most you owe obedience ?

Des. My noble father,

I do perceive here a divided duty :
To you I am bound for life and education ;
My life and education both do learn me
How to respect you. You are the lord of duty ;
I am hitherto your daughter : but here 's my

husband,

And so much duty as my mother showed
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 :
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 de-
pended.

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 robb'd that smiles steals something from the

thief ;

He robs himself that spends a bootless grief.
Bra. So let the Turk of Cyprus us beguile ;
We lose it not so long as we can smile.
He bears the sentence well, that nothing bears
But the free comfort which from thence he hears,
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 pierced through the

ears.
I humbly beseech you, proceed to the affairs of

state.

Duke. The Turk with a most mighty prepara-
tion 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 sovereign mistress of effects, throws
a more safer voice on you : you must therefore be
content to slubber the gloss of your new fortune*
with this more stubborn and boisterous expe-
dition.

Oth. The tyrant custom, most grave senator^
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
These present wars against the Ottomites.
Most humbly therefore bending to your state,
I crave fit disposition for my wife,
Due reference of place and exhibition,



898



OTHELLO, THE MOOR OF VENICE.



ACT I., Sc. 3.



With such accommodation and besort
As levels with her breeding.

Duke. If you please,

Be 't at her father's.

Bra. I '11 not have it so.

Oth. Nor I.

Des. 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,
To assist my simpleness.

Duke. What would you, Desdemona ?

Des. 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 honours 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.

Oth. Let her have your voices.
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
When she is with me. No, when light-wing'd toys
Of feather'd Cupid seel with wanton dulness
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 : the affair cries haste,
And speed must answer it.

1 Sen. You must away to-night.

Oth. With all my heart.

Duke. At nine i' the morning here we '11 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.

Oth. 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 every one. [To Brab.] And, noble

Signior,

If virtue no delighted beauty lack,
Your son-in-law is far more fair than black.

1 Sen. Adieu, brave Moor, use Desdemona
well.

Bra. Look to her, Moor, if thou hast eyes to

see :
She has deceived her father, and may thee.

Exeunt Duke, Senators, Officers, Sfc.



Oth. My life upon her faith ! Honest lago,
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.

Rod. lago,

lago. What say'st thou, noble heart ?

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

lago. Why, go to bed and sleep.

Rod. I will incontinently drown myself.

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

Rod. It is silliness to live when to live is tor-
ment : and then have we a prescription to die
when death is our physician.

lago. 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 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 hu-
manity with a baboon.

Rod. What should I do ? I confess it is my
shame to be so fond ; but it is not in my virtue to
amend it.

lago. 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 balance of our lives had
not one scale of reason to poise another of sen-
suality, the blood and baseness of our natures
would conduct us to most preposterous conclu-
sions. But we have reason to cool our raging mo-
tions, our carnal stings, or unbitted lusts, whereof
I take this that you call love to be a sect or scion.

Rod. It cannot be.

lago. 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 tough-
ness ; I could never better stead thee than now.
Put money in thy purse ; follow thou the wars ;
defeat thy favour with an usurped beard ; I say,
put money in thy purse. It cannot be that Des-
demona should long continue her love to the
Moor, 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 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 bitter as
coloquintida. She must change for youth : when
she is sated with his body, she will find the
error of her choice : she must have change, she
must : therefore put money in thy purse. If
thou wilt needs damn thyself, do it a more deli-
cate way than drowning. Make all the money
thou canst : if sanctimony and a frail vow be-
twixt an erring barbarian and a supersubtle



ACT II., Sc. 1.



OTHELLO, THE MOOR OF VENICE.



899



Venetian be not too hard for my wits and all the
tribe of hell, thou shalt enjoy her ; therefore
make money. A plague 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.

Rod. Wilt thou be fast to my hopes, if I de-
pend on the issue ?

lago. 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 to-
morrow. Adieu.

Rod. Where shall we meet i' the morning ?

lago. At my lodging.

Rod. I '11 be with thee betimes.

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

Rod. What say you ?

lago. No more of drowning, do you hear ?

Rod. I am changed : I '11 go sell all my land.

Exit.

lago. Thus do I ever make my fool my purse ;
For I mine own gain'd 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 has done my office : I know not if 't be true ;