DUKE OF VENICE. BRABANTIO, a Senator. Two other Senators. GRATIANO, Brother to BRABANTIO. LODOVICO, Kinsman to BRABANTIO. OTHELLO, the Moor. CASSIO, his Lieutenant. IAGO, his Ancient. RODERIGO, a Venetian Gentleman. DRAMATIS PERSONE. MONTANO, OTHELLO's predecessor in the Government of Cyprus. Officers, Gentlemen, Messengers, Musicians, Sailors, SCENE,―The first Act, in VENICE; during the rest of the Play, at a Seaport in CYPRUS. АСТ І. SCENE I. VENICE. A Street. Enter RODERIGO and IAGO. Rod. Tush, never tell me; I take it much unkindly That thou, Iago, who hast had my purse As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this. Abhor me. Rod. Thou told'st me thou didst hold him in thy hate. Iago. Despise me if I do not. Three great ones of te In personal suit to make me his lieutenant, Oft capp'd to him ;-and, by the faith of man, I know my price; I am worth no worse a place: But he, as loving his own pride and purposes, My mediators; for, ccrtes," says he, Forsooth, a great arithmetician, A fellow almost damn'd in a fair wife; More than a spinster; unless the bookish theoric, [cit, As masterly as he: mere prattle, without practice, man. Iago. But there's no remedy; 'tis the curse of servi g; Preferment goes by letter and affection, Not by the old gradation, where each second Stood heir to the first. Now, Sir, be judge yourself, Whether I in any just term am affined To love the Moor. Rod. I would not follow him then. Iago. O Sir, content you; I follow him to serve my turn upon him: Many a duteous and knee-crooking knave, For naught but provender; and, when he's old, cashiera: coats, Do themselves homage: these fellows have some soul. It is as sure as you are Roderigo, Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty, For when my outward action doth demonstrate The native act and figure of my heart Rod. 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, Rod. Here is her father's house; I'll call aloud. Rod. What, ho! Brabantio! signior Brabantio, ho! Iago. Awake! what, ho! Brabantio! thieves! thieves! thieves ! Look to your house, your daughter, and your bags! Thieves thieves! BRABANTIO, above, at a window. Bra. What is the reason of this terrible summons? What is the matter there? Rod. Signior, is all your family within ? Iago. Are your doors lock'd? Bra. Why, wherefore ask you this? [your gown; Iago. 'Zounds, Sir, you are robb'd; for shame, put on Is tupping your white ewe. Arise, arise; Or else the devil will make a grandsire of you: Bra. What, have you lost your wits? Rod. Most reverend signior, do you know my voice? Bra. Not I; what are you? Rod. My name is Roderigo. Bra. The worse welcome : I have charged thee not to haunt about my doors: In honest plainness thou hast heard me say, My daughter is not for thee; and now, in madness, To start my quiet. Rod. Sir, Sir, Sir, Sir, Bra. But thou must needs be sure, My spirit and my place have in them power To make this bitter to thee. Rod. Patience, good Sir. Bra. What tell'st thou me of robbing? this is Venice; My house is not a grange. Rod. 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, you think we are ruffians: you'll have your daughter covered with a Barbary horse; you'll have your nephews neigh to you: you'll have coursers for cousins, and gennets for germans. Bra. What profane wretch art thou? Iago. I am one, Sir, that comes to tell you, your daughter and the Moor are now making the beast with two backs. (As partly, I find, it is,) that your fair daughter, That, from the sense of all civility, In an extravagant and wheeling stranger, Of here and everywhere. Straight satisfy yourself: For thus deluding you. Bra. Strike on the tinder, ho! Give me a taper!-call up all my people!- [Exit from above lago. Farewell; for I must leave you: Against the Moor: for, I do know the state- (Which even now stand in act,) that, for their souls, Oth. Let him do his spite: I would not my unhousèd free condition For the sea's worth. But, look! what lights come yonder? Enter CASSIO, at a distance, and certain Officers with torches. Iago. These 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, Iago. By Janus, I think no. Oth. The servants of the duke, and my lieutenant- Cas. The duke does greet you, general; Oth. What is the matter, think you? Cas. Something from Cyprus, as I may divine; Are at the duke's already: you have been hotly call'd When, being not at your lodging to be found, The senate hath sent about three several quests To search you out. [for, I must shew out a flag and sign of love, Which is indeed but sign. That you shall surely find [him, [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 time, Is naught but bitterness.-Now, Roderigo, Where didst thou see her?-O unhappy girl!With the Moor, sayst thou?-Who would be a father?— How didst thou know 'twas she?-O, thou deceiv'st 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?-Otreason of the blood Fathers, from hence trust not your daughters' minds By what you see them act.-Are there not charms By which the property of youth and maidhood May be abused? Have you not read, Roderigo, Rod. Yes, Sir, I have indeed. Bra. Call up my brother.-O, that 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'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. Oth. 'Tis well I am found by you. I will but spend a word here in the house, And go with you. Cas. Ancient, what makes he here? \Exit. Re-enter OTHELLO. Iago. Marry, to-Come, captain, will you go? Cas. Here comes another troop to seek for you. Enter BRABANTIO, RODERIGO, and Officers of night, with torches and weapons. Iago. It is Brabantio:-general, be advised; He comes to bad intent. Oth. Holla! stand there! Rod. Signior, it is the Moor. Bra. Down with him, thief! [They draw on both sides. Iago. You, Roderigo! 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. [daughter! Bra. O thou foul thief, where hast thou stow'd my I therefore apprehend and do attach thee, Oth. Hold your hands, Both you of my inclining, and the rest: Were it my cue to fight, I should have known it Bra. To prison: till fit time Of law, and course of direct session, Oth. What if I do obey! How may the duke be therewith satisfied, Off. 'Tis true, most worthy signior; The duke's in council; and your noble self, Bra How! the duke in council! In this time of the night!-Bring him away: Cannot but feel this wrong as 'twere their own: [Exeunt SCENE III.-The same. A Council-Chamber. The DUKB 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 mire 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; In fearful sense. Sailor. [Within.] What ho! what ho! what ho! Enter an Officer, with a Sailor. Of. A messenger from the galleys. Sailor. The Turkish preparation makes for Rhodes; 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 That, as it more concerns the Turk than Rhodes, That Rhodes is dress'd in :-if we make thought of this, To leave that latest which concerns him first • Duke. Nay, in all confidence, he's not for Rhodes. Enter a Messenger Mess. The Ottomites, reverend and gracious, Steering with due course toward the isle of Rhodes, Have there injointed them with an after fleet. 1 Sen. Ay, so I thought.-How many, as you guess? Mess. Of thirty sail: and now do they re-stem Their backward course, bearing with frank appearance 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 Lucchesé, is not he in town? 1 Sen. He's now in Florence. [despatch. Duke. Write from us; wish him post-post-haste: 1 Sen Here comes Brabantio and the valiant Moor. Exter BRABANTIO, OTHELLO, IAGO, RODERIGO, and. Officers. Duke. Valiant Othello, we must straight employ you Against the general enemy Ottoman.[TO BRA.] I did not see you; welcome, gentle signior: We lack'd your counsel and your help to-night. Bra. So did I yours. Good your grace, pardon me; Duke. Why, what's the matter? [care Bra. Ay, to me, She is abused, stolen from me, and corrupted 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 Bra. Humbly I thank your grace. Here is the man, this Moor: whom now, it seems, Duke and Sen. We are very sorry for it. Duke [To OTH.] What, in your own part, can you say Bra. Nothing, but this is so. [to this! Oth. Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors, My very noble and approved good masters, It is most true; true, I have married her: Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my speech, And little of this great world can I speak, 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 magic, (For such proceeding I am charged withal,) I won his daughter with. Bra. A maiden never bold; Of spirit so still and quiet, that her motion Of years, of country, credit, everything,- Duke. To vouch this is no proof, Did you by indirect and forced courses Duke. Say it, Othello. Oth. Her father loved me; oft invited ne; I ran it through, even from my boyish days, And sold to slavery; of my redemption thence, Wherein of antres vast, and deserts idle, 2 Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads touch It was my hint to speak,-such was the process; [heaven, And of the Cannibals that each other eat, Do grow beneath their shoulders. These things to hear, ж But still the house affairs would draw her thence; And often did beguile her of her tears, She swore,-in faith, 'twas strange, 'twas passing strange; 'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful: She wish'd she had not heard it; yet she wish'd And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake: 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: Bra. I pray you, hear her speak; If she confess that she was half the wooer Light on the man!-Come hither, gentle misti ess; 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 shew'd To you, preferring you before her father, So much I challenge that I may profess Bra. God be with you!-I have done.- I here do give thee that with all my heart I am glad at soul I have no other child; For thy escape would teach me tyranny, Duke. Let me speak like yourself; and lay a sentence, When remedies are past, the griefs are ended To mourn a mischief that is past and gone, 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 ear.I humbly beseech you, proceed to the 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 the e a substitute of most allowed sufficiency, yet opinion, a Bovereign 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. Oth. The tyrant eustom, most grave senators, I find in hardness; and do undertake I crave fit disposition for my wife; Due reference of place and exhibition, Duke. If you please, Be't at her father's. Bra. I'll not have it so. Oth. Your voices, lords:-'beseech you, let her will Have a free way. Vouch with me, heaven, I therefore beg it not, Nor to comply with heat (the young affects 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 My speculative and active instruments, That my disports corrupt and taint my business, 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; you must hence to-night Des. To-night, my lord? Good night to every one.-[To BRA.] 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! have a quick eye to see; She has deceived her father, and may thee. [Exeunt DUKE, Senators, Officers, de Oth. My life upon her faith!-Honest Lago, My Desdemona must I leave to thee. I pr'ythee, let thy wife attend on her; [Exeunt OTHELLO and DESDEMOJA Rod. Iago! Iago. What say'st thou, noble heart? Rod. What will I do, thinkest thou? Iago. 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! Ir ve looked upon the world for four times seven years; an 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. Rod. 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 sterile with idleness, or manured with industry; why, the power and corrigible authority of this lies in our walls 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 a 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 super-subtle 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? 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 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? Rod. I'll be with thee betimes. Iago. Go to; farewell. Rod. What say you? Do you hear, Roderigo? Iago. No more of drowning, do you hear? Iago. Go to; farewell: put money enough in your Thus do I ever make my fool my purse; To be suspected; framed to make women false. That thinks men honest that but seem to be so; Enter MONTANO and two Gentlemen. Mon. What from the cape can you discern at sea? 1 Gent. Nothing at all: is a high-wrought flood; I cannot, 'twixt the heaven and the main, Descry a sail. Mon. Methinks the wind hath spoke aloud at land, What ribs of oak, when mountains melt on them, Mon. If that the Turkish fleet 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 Veronesé; Michael Cassio, Lieutenant to the warlike Moor Othello, Mon. I am glad on't; 'tis a worthy governor. Touching the Turkish loss,-yet he looks sadly, Mon. Pray heaven he be; For I have served him, and the man commands 3 Gent. Come, let's do so; For every minute is expectancy Of more arrivance. |