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 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, everything,—
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 conjured to this effect,
He wrought upon her.

Duke. To vouch this, is no proof;

Without more certain and more overt test,+
Than these thin habits, and poor likelihoods
Of modern seeming, I 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 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.

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.

Duke. Say it, Othello.

Oth. Her father loved me; oft invited me; Still question'd me the story of my life,

*Best exertion.

† Open proof.

I. e. to the sign of the Sagittary.

Weak show.

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 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. 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'd me;

And bade me, if I had a friend that loved her,

I should but teach him how to tell my story,

And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake:
She loved me for the dangers I had pass'd;

And I loved her, that she did pity them.
This only is the witchcraft I have used;

Here comes the lady, let her witness it.

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:

Men do their broken weapons rather use,
Than their bare hands.

Bra. I pray you, hear her speak;

If she confess, that she was half the wooer,
Destruction on my head, if my bad blame

*My behaviour.

+ Caves and dens. § Attentively.

+ Parts.

Light on the man!-Come hither, gentle mistress;
Do you perceive in all this noble company,
Where most you owe obedience?

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 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,f or step, may help these lovers

Into your favours.

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 preserved 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 equívocal:
But words are words; I never yet did hear,

That the bruised heart was pierced through the ear. I

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 slub*I. e. as you yourself should speak. + Gradus, degrec.

I. e. consoled by words.

ber 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. I
With such accommodation, and besort,
As levels with her breeding.

Duke. If you please,

Be't at her father's.

Bra. I'll not have it so.
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 scorn 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.

Oth. Your voices, lords:-'beseech you, let her will

Have a free way.

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 me defunct) 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, §§

* Obscure.
Affections.
++ A small kettle.

+ Acknowledge.
Forbid.

Allowance. **Because.

§§ Helmet.

§ Privilege. tt Blind.

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,

And speed must answer it; you must hence to-night.
Des. To-night, my lord?

Duke. This night.

Oth. With all my heart.

Duke. At nine i'the morning here we'll meet again. 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 deceived 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.

Rod. Iago.

[Exeunt OTHELLO and DESDEMONA.

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! 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 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 * Immediately. † Prostitute.