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.

2 Sen.

1 Sen. Indeed, they are disproportion'd; My letters say, a hundred and seven gallies. Duke. And mine, a hundred and forty. 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.

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 he not in town?

1 Sen. He's now in Florence.

Duke. Write from us; wish him post-post-haste: despatch.

1 Sen. Here comes Brabantio, and the valiant Moor.

Enter BRABANTIO, OTHELLO, IAGO, RODERIGO, and Officers.

Duke. Valiant Othello, we must straight employ

She is abus'd, stol'n from me, and corrupted
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,

Hath thus beguil'd 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 & Sen.

We are very sorry for it.

Duke. What, in your own part, can you say to

this?

Bra. Nothing, but this is so.

TO OTHELLO,

peace;

And little bless'd with the set phrase of
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.

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 car
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'd

me;

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 authority 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.

I

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; 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. 1 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? Go, make money:

Iago. Thou art sure of me;

- 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?
Iago. At my lodging.

Rod. I'll be with thee betimes.

Iago. Go to; farewell. Do you hear, Roderigo?
Rod. 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 profane,

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;
A double knavery, How? how? Let me

see:

-

Iago. In faith, too much;

I find it still, when I have list to sleep: Marry, before your ladyship, I grant, She puts her tongue a little in her heart, And chides with thinking.

Emil.

You have little cause to say so. Iago. Come on, come on; you are pictures out of doors,

Bells in your parlours, wild cats in your kitchens, Saints in your injuries, devils being offended, Players in your housewifery, and housewives in your beds.

Des. O, fye upon thee, slanderer!

Iago. Nay, it is true, or else I am a Turk ;
You rise to play, and go to bed to work.
Emil. You shall not write my praise.
Jago.
No, let me not.
Des. What would'st thou write of me, if thou
should'st praise me?

Iago. O gentle lady, do not put me to't;
For I am nothing, if not critical.
Des. Come on, assay:
harbour?

Iago. Ay, madam.

There's one gone to the