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 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;

Whip me such honest knaves: Others there are,
Who, trimm'd 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 lin'd

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.
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,
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. Tago. 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!

Jago. 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?
Fago. Are your doors lock'd?
Bra.

Why? wherefore ask you this? Iago. 'Zounds, sir, you are robb'd; for shame, put on your gown;

Your heart is burst, you have lost half your soul; Even now, very now, an old black ram

Is tupping your white ewe.

Arise, arise;

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.

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 every where: 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.

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 staté, 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 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,

find him,

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

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?

"

Oth. 'Tis better as it is. Iago. 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 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 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 reach'd: For know, Iago,
But that I love the gentle Desdemona,
I would not my unhoused free condition

For the sea's worth. But, look! what lights come

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, Shall manifest me rightly. Is it they? Iago. By Janus, I think no.

Oth. The servants of the duke, and my lieutenant. The goodness of the night upon you, friends! What is the news?

Cas.

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 gallies Have sent a dozen sequent messengers This very night, at one another's heels; And many of the consuls, rais'd, 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.

[Ent Ancient, what makes he here? Iago. 'Faith, he to-night hath boarded a land

carack;

If it prove lawful prize, he's made for ever. Cas. I do not understand.

Iago. Cas.

He's married.

To who?

! Re-enter OгHELLO.

Jago. Marry, to Come, captain, will you go?
Oth.
Have with you.
Cas. Here comes another troop to seek for you.

Enter BRABANTIO, RODERICO, and Officers of night, with torches and weapons.

Iago. It is Brabantio : - general, be advis'd; He comes to bad intent.

Oth.

Hola! stand there!

Rod. Signior, it is the Moor.
Bra.

Down with him, thief! [They draw on both sides. Tago. 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 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,

Oth. Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors, My very noble and approv'd 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,
Till now some nine moons wasted, they have us'd
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,) I 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, i 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
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.

ولا

Fetch Desdemona hither.

Oth. Ancient, conduct them: you best know the [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.

Duke. Say it, Othello.

Oth. Her father lov'd 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 spoke 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 travel's history:
Wherein of antres vast, and desarts 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. These things to
hear,

Would Desdemona seriously incline:

But still the house affairs would 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 passing
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'

I do perceive here a divided duty:

My noble father,

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 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 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,

Oth. 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
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;
With such accommodation, and besort,
As levels with her breeding.

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 ?

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 rights for which I love him, are bereft me,
And I a heavy interim shall support

By his dear absence: Let me go with him.

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 my distinct 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-wing'd toys
Of feather'd Cupid seel with wanton dulness
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,

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.

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. 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. Bra. Look to her, Moor; have a quick eye to

see;

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, 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.

Jago. O villainous! 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

Rod. What should I do? I confess, it is my