I thus would play and trifle with your reverence:
Your daughter,-if you have not given her
I say again, hath made a gross revolt; [leave,
Tying her duty, beauty, wit, and fortunes,
In an extravagant and wheeling stranger,
Of here and every where: Straight satisfy your-
If she be in her chamber, or your house, [self:
Let loose on me the justice of the state
For thus deluding you.

Bra.
Strike on the tinder, ho!
Give me a taper;-call up all my people:-
This accident is not unlike my dream,
Belief of it oppresses me already;
Light, I say, light!
[Exit, from above.
Iago. Farewell; for I must leave you;
It seems not meet, nor wholesome to my place,
To be produc'd (as, if I stay, I shall),
Against the Moor: For, I do know, the state,-
However this may gall him with some check,-
Cannot with safety cast him; for he's embark'd
With such loud reason to the Cyprus' wars
(Which even now stand in act), that, for their
Another of his fathom they have not,
To lead their business: in which regard,
Though I do hate him as I do hell pains,
Yet, for necessity of present life,
I must show out a flag and sign of love,
Which is indeed but sign. That you shall surely
find him,

[souls,

Lead to the Sagittary the rais'd search; And there will I be with him. So, farewell. [Exit.

Enter below, BRABANTIO, and Servants, with Torches.

I did full hard forbear him. But, I pray, sir,
Are you fast married? for, be sure 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 ou),
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 houour,
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 reach'd: For know, lago,
But that I love the gentle Desdemona,
I would not my unhoused free condition
Put into circumscription and confine
For the sea's worth. But look! what lights
come yonder?

Enter CASSIO, at a distance, and certain Officers

with Torches.

[tenant.

Iago. These are the raised father, and his You were best go in. [friends: Oth. 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. Oth. The servants of the duke, and my lieuThe goodness of the night upon you, friends! The duke does greet you, general; And he requires your haste, post-haste, appearEven on the instant.

Lance,

Raise all my kindred.-Are they married, think Rod. Truly, I think, they are. Bra. O heaven!-How got she out?-O treason of the blood![minds, Fathers, from hence trust not your daughters' By what you see them act.-Are there not charms,

By which the property of youth and maidhood May be abus'd? Have you not read, Roderigo, Of some such thing?

Rod.

Yes, sir, I have indeed.

Bra. Call up my brother.-O, that you had

had her!

Hola! stand there!

years,

Than with your weapons.

Bra, O thou foul thief, where hast thou stow'd
my daughter?

Damn'd as thou art, thou hast enchanted her:
For I'll refer me to all things of sense,
If she in chains of magick 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 practis'd on her with foul charms,
Abus'd her delicate youth with drugs, or mine-
rals,

That waken motion :-I'll have it 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.-Where 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?

Cff. '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. The same. 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.

843

Enter an Officer, with a Sailor.
Off. A messenger from the galleys.
Duke.
Now? the business?
So was I bid report here to the state, [Rhodes;
Sailor. The Turkish preparation makes for
By signior Angelo

Duke. How say you by this change?
1 Sen.
This cannot be,

By no assay of reason; 'tis a pageant,
The importancy of Cyprus to the Turk;
To keep us in false gaze: When we consider
That, as it more concerns the Turk than Rhodes,
And let ourselves again but understand,
So may he with more facile question bear it,
But altogether lacks the abilities
For that it stands not in such warlike brace,
That Rhodes is dress'd in;-if we make thought
[of this,
We must not think, the Turk is so unskilful,
To leave that latest which concerns him first;
To wake, and wage, a danger profitless.
Neglecting an attempt of ease, and gain,
Duke. Nay, in all confidence, he's not for
Off. Here is more news.
[Rhodes.

Enter a Messenger.

Steering with due course toward the isle of Mess. The Ottomites, reverend and gracious, Rhodes,

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

guess?

me;

Dead?
Ay, to me;

To the very moment that he bade me tell it.
Wherein I spoke of most disastrous chances,
Of moving accidents by flood, and field:
Of hair-breadth scapes i' the imminent deadly
Of being taken by the insolent foe, [breach;
And sold to slavery; of my redemption thence,
And portance in my travel's history:
Wherein of antres vast, and deserts wild,
Rough quarries, rocks, and hills, whose heads
touch heaven,

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 & Sen. We are very sorry for it. Duke. What, in your own part, can you say to this? [To OTHELLO. 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 bless'd with the set phrase of peace; For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith, [us'd Till now some nine moons wasted, they have 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 unvarnish'd tale deliver
Of my whole course of love! what drugs, what
charms,

What conjuration, and what mighty magick
(For such proceeding I am charg'd withal),
1 won his daughter with.
Bra.
A maiden never bold;
Of spirit so still and quiet, that her motion
Blush'd at herself; And she,-in spite of nature,
Of years, of country, credit, every thing,-
To fall in love with what she fear'd to look on?
It is a judgment maim'd, and most imperfect,
That will confess-perfection so could err
Against all rules of nature; and must be driven
To find out practices of cunning hell,
Why this should be. I therefore vouch again,
That with some mixtures powerful o'er the
blood,

Or with some dram conjur'd to this effect,
He wrought upon her.

Duke.
To vouch this, is no proof;
Without more certain 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.

Duke.

Fetch Desdemona hither. Oth. Ancient, conduct them; you best know the place.-[Exeunt IAGO and Attendants. And, till she come, as truly as to heaven I do confess the vices of my blood, So justly to your grave ears I'll present How I did thrive in this fair lady's love, And she in mine.

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
Would Desdemona seriously incline: [to hear,
But still the house affairswould draw her thence;
Which ever as she could with haste despatch,
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 suffer'd. My story being done,
She gave me for my pains a world of sighs:
She swore,-In faith, 'twas strange, 'twas pass-
ing strange;

'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful:

She wish'd, she had not heard it; yet she wish'd That heaven had made her such a man; she

thank'd me;

And bade me, if I had a friend that lov'd her,
I should but teach him how to tell my story,
And that would woo her. Upon this hint, I
spake:

She lov'd me for the dangers I had pass'd;
And I lov'd her, that she did pity them.
This only is the witchcraft I have us'd;
Here comes the lady, let her witness it.

Enter DESDEMONA, IAGO, and Attendants.
Duke. I think, this tale would win my daugh-
Good Brabantio,
[ter too,-
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 Light on the man!-Come hither, gentle mis

tress;

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 show'd
To you, preferring you before her father,
So much I challenge that I may profess
Due to the Moor, my lord.

Bra. God be with 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 depended.

To mourn a mischief that is past and gone,
Is the next way to draw new mischief on.
What cannot be preserv'd 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 bruis'd heart was pierced through the [state. I humbly beseech you, proceed to the affairs of 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 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.

ear.

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 a gracious ear; And let me find a charter in your voice, To assist my simpleness.

Duke. What would you, Desdemona? [him, Des. That I did love the Moor to live with 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. Your voices, lords-'beseech you, let her Have a free way. [will Vouch with me, heaven; I therefore beg it not, To please the palate of my appetite; Nor to comply with heat (the young affects,

I will your serious and great business scant,
For she is with me: No, when light-wing'd toys
Of feather'd Cupid seel with wanton duiness
My speculative and active 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,
Inight.
And speed must answer it; you must hence to-
Des. To-night, my lord?
This night.

Luke.

Oth

With all my heart. Duke. At nine i' the morning here we'll meet Othello, leave some officer behind, [again. And he shall our commission bring to you: With such things else of quality and respect, As doth import you.

Oth.

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 To be sent after me. [think Duke, Let it be so.Good night to every one-And, noble signior, [To BRABANTIO. If virtue no delighted beauty lack, Your son-in-law is far more fair than black 1 Sen. Adieu, brave Moor! use Desdemona well. [to see; Bra, Look to her, Moor; have a quick eye She has deceiv'd her father, and may thee.

[Exeunt Duke, Senators, Officers, &c. Oth. My life upon her faith.-Honest Iago, My Desdemona must I leave to thee: I pr'ythee, 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. Jago.

Iago. What say'st thou, noble heart?
Rod. What will I do, thinkest thou?
Ing. Why, go to bed, and sleep.

Rod. I will incontinently drown myself. Iago. Well, if thou dost, I shall never love thee after it. Why, thou silly gentleman!

Rod. It is silliness to live, when to live is a torment: and then have we a prescription to die, when death is our physician.

Iago. O villanous! I have looked upon the world for four times seven years! and since I could distinguish between 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.

Kod. What should I do? I confess, it is my shame to be so fond: but it is not in 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 steril with idleness, or manured with industry: why, the power and corrigible autho

rity of this lies in our wills. If the balance 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.

Rod. 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 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 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 delicate way than drowning. Make all the money thou canst: If sanctimony and a frail vow, betwixt an erring barbarian and a supersubtle Venetian, be 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.

Rod. 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 retell 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, and 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? Jago. At my lodging.

Rod. I'll be with thee betimes.

Jago. Go to; farewell. Do you hear, Roderigo? Kod. What say you?

Jago. No more of drowning, do you hear. Rod. I am changed. I'll sell all my land, Iago. Go to; farewell: put money enough in [Exit RODERIGO. Thus do I ever make my fool my purse: For I mine own gain'd knowledge should profare,

your purse.

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;
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;

It is impossible they bear it out.
Enter a third Gentleman.

3 Gent. News, lords! our wars are done:
The desperate tempest hath so bang'd the Turks
That their designment halts: A noble ship of
Venice

Hath seen a grievous wreck and sufferance
On most part of their fleet.
Mon.

How is this true?
3 Gent. The ship is here put in,
A Veronese; Michael Cassio,
Lieutenant to the warlike Moor, Othello,
Is come on shore: the Moor himself's at sea,
And is in full commission here for Cyprus.

Mon. I am glad on't; 'tis a worthy governor. 3 Gent. But this same Cassio,--though he speak of comfort,

Touching the Turkish loss,-yet he looks sadly, And prays the Moor be safe; for they were parted With foul and violent tempest.

Mon. 'Pray heaven, he be; For I have serv'd him, and the man commands Like a full soldier. Let's to the seaside ho! As well to see the vessel that's come in, As to throw out our eyes for brave Othello; Even till we make the main, and the ærial blue, An indistinct regard. | 3 Gent. Come, let's do so; For every minute is expectancy Of more arrivance,

Enter CASSIO.

Cas Thanks to the valiant of this warlike isle,

Give him defence against the elements,