TUSH, never tell me, I take it much unkindly,
That thou, Iago,--who hast had my purse,
As if the strings were thine,-should'st know of this.
Iago. 'Sblood, but you will not hear me :-
If ever I did dream of such a matter,

Abhor me.

Rod. Thou told'st me, thou didst hold him in thy hate.

Jago. Despise me, if I do not. Three great ones of the city,

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,
Evades them, with a bombast circumstance,2
Horribly stuff'd with epithets of war;
And, in conclusion, nonsuits

My mediators; for, certes,3 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 ;4
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 :7
He, in good time, must his lieutenant be,

And I, (God bless the mark!) his Moorship's an

cient.

Rod. By heaven I rather would have been his hangman.

Iago. But there's no remedy, 'tis the curse of service;

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 affin'ds
To love the Moor.

Rod.

I would not follow him then. 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;

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 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, above, at a window.

mons?

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 are robb'd; for shame,
put on your gown:

Your heart is burst,2 you have lost half your soul;
Even now, very now, an old black ram
Is tupping your white ewe. Arise, arise;
Awake the snorting citizens with the bell,
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 worse welcome:
I have charg'd 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,
Being full of supper, and distempering3 draughts,
Upon malicious bravery, dost thou come
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.4
Rod.
Most grave Brabantio,
In simple and pure soul I come to you.
Jago. 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.5

Bra. What profane wretch art thou? lago. I am one, sir, that comes to tell you, your daughter and the Moor are now making the beast

with two backs.

Bra. Thou art a villain.

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 cast10 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,
Which is indeed but sign. That you shall surely
find him,

Lead to the Sagittary the rais'd search;
And there will I be with him. So, farewell. [Er.
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, Rodrigo,
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, 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!-O treason 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 abus'd? Have you not read, Roderigo,
Of some such thing?
Rod.

(6) Midnight.

(8) Approbation.

Yes, sir; I have indeed.

(7) A waterman.

(9) Wandering. (10) Dismiss. (11) Old age

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. SCENE 11-The same. Another street. Enter Othello, Iago, and Attendants.

lago. Though in the trade of war I have slain

men,

Yet do I hold it very stuff o'the conscience,
To do no contriv'd murder; I lack iniquity
Sometimes, to do me service: Nine or ten times
I had thought to have yerk'd him here under the ribs.

Oth. 'Tis better as it is.
Iago.
Nay, but he prated,
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,
A re 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;2 and my demerits3
May speak, unbonneted,4 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 unhouseds free condition
Put into circumscription and confine

The senate hath sent about three several quests,7
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.
[Exit.
Cas.
Ancient, what makes he here?
lago. 'Faith, he to-night hath boarded a land
carack ;8

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

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.9
Judge me the world, if 'tis not gross in sense,

Abus'd her delicate youth with drugs, or minerals,
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? 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 my brothers of the state, any of 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; Of ficers attending.

Duke. There is no composition2 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 aim3 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.

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

Enter Brabantio, Othello, Iago, Roderigo, and Officers.

Duke. Valiant Othello, we must straight employ you

Against the general enemy Ottoman.
I did not see you; welcome, gentle signior;
We lack'd your counsel and your help to-night.
[To Brabantio.
Bra. So did I yours: Good your grace, pardon

me;

Neither my place, nor aught I heard of business, Hath rais'd me from my bed; nor doth the general

care

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! Ö, my daughter!

Sen.

Bra.

Dead? Ay, to me;

Being not deficient, blind or lame of sense,
Sans witchcraft could not-

Duke. Whoe'er he be, that, in this foul proceeding,

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
your action.8

Stood in 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 [To Othello.

this?

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 And little bless'd with the set phrase of peace; Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my speech, For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith, Till now some nine moons wasted, they have us'd Their dearest action9 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 pa tience,

Of my whole course of love; what drugs, what

I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver

charms,