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,
Rod. Tush! never tell me; I take it much And not by old gradation, where each second unkindly
That thou, lago, 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,
Rod. 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 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, Evades them, with a bombast circumstance Horribly stuff'd with epithets of war; And, in conclusion,
Nonsuits 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 damn'd 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 the election: And I, of whom his eyes had seen the proof At Rhodes, at Cyprus and on other grounds Christian and heathen, must be be-lee'd and calm'd
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.
Stood heir to the first. Now, sir, be judge your.
self, Whether I in any just term am affined To love the Moor.
Rod. I would not follow him then. 40 lago. O, sir, content you;
I follow him to serve my turn upon him: We cannot all be masters, nor all masters Cannot be truly follow'd. 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 nought but provender, and when he's old, cashier'd:
And such a one do I profess myself. 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. Rod. What a full fortune does the thick-lips
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 changes of vexation on't, As it may lose some colour.
Rod. Here is her father's house; I'll call aloud.
lago. Do, with like timorous accent and dire yell
As when, by night and negligence, the fire Is spied in populous cities.
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 appears 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? Iago. 'Zounds, sir, you're robb'd; 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, 90 Or else the devil will make a grandsire of you: Arise, I say.
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 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 mad-
Rod. 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. lago. '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 gen- nets for gernians.
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.
Iago. Bra. This thou shalt answer; I know thee, Roderigo.
Rod. Sir, I will answer any thing. But, I be seech 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 135 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 every where. Straight satisfy your self:
If she be in her chamber or your house, 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 aber 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 embark'd 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. 160 [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 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
And spoke such scurvy and provoking terms Against your honour
That, with the little godliness I have,
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 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. Cas.
[Exit. Ancient, what makes he here? lago. 'Faith, he to-night hath boarded a land
If it prove lawful prize, he's made for ever. Cas. I do not understand.
Iago. 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, and Officers with torches and weapons.
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; 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 21 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, Iago, But that I love the gentle Desdemona, I would not my unhoused free condition Put into circumscription and confine
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.
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 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'll have 't disputed on; 'Tis probable and palpable to thinking. 30 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.
For the sea's worth. But, look! what lights come yond?
Jago. 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? Iago. By Janus, I think no.
Enter CASSIO, and certain Officers with torches. Oth. The servants of the duke, and my lieu-
The goodness of the night upon you, friends! What is the news?
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. 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 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.
First Sen. Indeed, they are disproportion'd; My letters say a hundred and seven galleys. Duke. And mine, a hundred and forty. Sec. 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 judge-
Duke. Now, what's the business? Sail. 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? First Sen.
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! O, my daughter! Duke and Sen. Bra.
She is abused, stol'n from me, and corrupted 60 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 pro- ceeding
This cannot be, Hath thus beguiled your daughter of herself And you of her, the bloody book of law
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 dress'd in: if we make thought
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. go Here is the man, this Moor, whom now, it seems, Your special mandate for the state-affairs Hath hither brought.
We are very sorry for❜t. 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 sig- niors,
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 80 Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my speech,
And little bless'd 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 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.
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 judgement 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. First 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?
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. 120 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.
Oth. Her father loved me; oft invited me; Still question'd me the story of my life, From year to year, the battles, sieges, fortunes, That I have pass'd.
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 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'ld come again, and with a greedy ear Devour up my discourse: which I observing, 150 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 passing
She wish'd she had not heard it, yet she wish'd That heaven had made her such a man: she
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 noble company Where most you owe obedience?
My noble father, 180 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 wi' you! I have done. Please it your grace, on to the state-affairs: 190 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,
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