Rod.
Tush, never tell me^{2 note}, 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^{3 note}:—
If ever I did dream of such a matter, abhor me.

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,
Oft capp'd to him^{4 note}

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^{5 note}

That never set a squadron in the field,
Nor the division of a battle knows

More than a spinster; unless the bookish theorick^{1 note}

As masterly as he: mere prattle, without practice^{3 note}

,
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^{4 note}

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^{9 note}, and affection,
Not by the old gradation^{1 note}, where each second
Stood heir to the first. Now, sir, be judge yourself,
Whether I in any just term am affin'd^{2 note}

Rod.
I would not follow him then.

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^{3 note}
;
Whip me such honest knaves^{4 note}: 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^{5 note},
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^{6 note}

For daws to peck at^{7 note}

Rod.
What a full fortune does the thick-lips owe^{8 note}

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* ^note of vexation on't,
As it may lose some colour.

Rod.
Here is her father's house; I'll call aloud.

Iago.
Do; with like timorous accent, and dire yell,
As when, by night and negligence, the fire
Is spied in populous cities^{9 note}

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.

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^{1 note}
?

Bra.
Why? wherefore ask you this?

Iago.
'Zounds, sir, you are robb'd; for shame, put on your gown;
Your heart is burst^{2 note}

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* ^note 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 distempering draughts^{4 note}

Upon malicious bravery, dost thou come
To start my quiet.

Rod.
Sir, sir, sir, sir,—

Bra.
But thou must needs be sure,
My spirit* ^note, 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^{5 note}

Rod.
Most grave Brabantio,
In simple and pure soul I come to you.

Iago.

'Zounds† ^note, 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^{6 note}

Bra.

What profane wretch art thou^{8 note}

Iago.

I am one, sir, that comes* ^note to tell you, your daughter and the Moor are now making the beast with two backs^{9 note}

Bra.
Thou art a villain.

Iago.
You are—a senator.

Bra.
This thou shalt answer; I know thee, Roderigo.

Rod.
Sir, I will answer any thing. But I beseech you,
[If't be your pleasure^{1 note}, and most wise consent,
(As partly, I find, it is,) that your fair daughter,
At this odd-even and dull watch o'the night^{2 note}

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^{3 note}

I say again, hath made a gross revolt;
Tying her duty, beauty, wit, and fortunes,
In an extravagant^{5 note}

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^{8 note} (as, if I stay, I shall,)
Against the Moor: For, I do know, the state,—
However this may gall him with some check^{9 note},—

Cannot with safety cast him^{1 note}; for he's embark'd
With such loud reason to the Cyprus' wars,
(Which even now stand* ^note 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^{2 note} the raised search;
And there will I be with him. So, farewell. [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^{3 note}

With the Moor, say'st thou?—Who would be a father?—
How didst thou know 'twas she?—O, thou deceiv'st me
Past thought^{4 note}

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.—Is there not charms^{5 note},
By which the property of youth and maidhood
May be abus'd^{6 note}

Rod.
Yes, sir; I have indeed* ^note.

Bra.
Call up my brother.—O, that† ^note you had had 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^{7 note}. At every house I'll call;
I may command at most;—Get weapons, ho!
And raise some special officers of night^{8 note}

SCENE II. The same. Another Street. Enter Othello, Iago, and Attendants.

Iago.
Though in the trade of war I have slain men,
Yet do I hold it very stuff o'the conscience^{9 note}

Oth.
'Tis better as it is.

Iago.
Nay, but he prated^{1 note},

And spoke such scurvy and provoking terms
Against your honour,
That, with the litle godliness I have,
I did full hard forbear him. But, I pray, sir* ^note,
Are you fast married? for, be sure of this† ^note,—
That the magnifico^{2 note} is much beloved;
And hath, in his effect, a voice potential
As double as the duke's^{3 note}

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^{4 note}

May speak, unbonneted^{7 note}

But that I love the gentle Desdemona,
I would not my unhoused^{8 note}

Enter Cassio, at a distance, and certain Officers with Torches.

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^{1 note}

!
What is the news?

Cas.
The duke does greet you, general;
And he requires your haste, post-haste appearance^{2 note},
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^{3 note}
This very night at one another's heels;
And many of the consuls^{4 note}, 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^{5 note}

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?

Iago.
'Faith, he to-night hath boarded a land carack^{6 note}

Cas.
I do not understand.

Iago.
He's married.

Cas.
To who^{7 note}

Iago.
Marry, to—Come, captain, will you go?

Oth.
Have with you^{8 note}

Cas.
Here comes another troop to seek for you. Enter Brabantio, Roderigo, and Officers of night, with Torches and Weapons.

Iago.
It is Brabantio:—general, be advis'd^{9 note};
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.

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 magick were not bound* ^note,
Whether a maid—so tender, fair, and happy;
So opposite to marriage, that she shunn'd
The wealthy curled darlings of our nation^{1 note}

[Judge me the world^{3 note}, if 'tis not gross in sense,
That thou hast practis'd on her with foul charms;
Abus'd her delicate youth with drugs, or minerals,
That waken motion^{4 note}

'Tis probable, and palpable to thinking.
I therefore apprehend and do attach thee,]

For an abuser of the world^{5 note}, 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^{6 note} 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 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^{7 note}

SCENE III. The Same. A Council-Chamber. The Duke, and Senators, sitting at a Table; Officers attending.

Duke.
There is no composition^{8 note} in these news^{9 note}

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

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 aim* ^note reports^{1 note}

Duke.
Nay, it is possible enough to judgment;
I do not so secure me in the error* ^note,
But the main article I do approve
In fearful sense.

Sailor. [Within.]
What ho! what ho! what ho! Enter an Officer, with a Sailor.

Off.
A messenger from the gallies.

Duke.
Now,—what's† ^note the business?

Sail.
The Turkish preparation makes for Rhodes;
So was I bid report here to the state,
By signior Angelo^{2 note}.

Duke.
How say you by this change?

1 Sen.
This cannot be,
By no assay of reason^{3 note}; '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^{4 note}

That Rhodes is dress'd in:—if we make thought of this,
We must not think, the Turk is so unskilful,
To leave that latest which concerns him first;
Neglecting an attempt of ease, and gain,
To wake, and wage, a danger profitless^{7 note}

Duke.
Nay, in all confidence, he's not for Rhodes.

Off.
Here is more news. Enter a Messenger.

Mess.
The Ottomites, reverend and gracious,
Steering with due course toward the isle of Rhodes,
Have there injointed them with an after fleet.

1 Sen.
Ay, so I thought^{8 note}:—How many, as you guess?

Mess.
Of thirty sail: and now do they re-stem^{9 note}
Their backward course, bearing with frank appearance
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^{1 note}.

Duke.
'Tis certain then for Cyprus.—
Marcus Lucchesé^{2 note}, is he not in town?

1 Sen.
He's now in Florence.

Duke.
Write from us; wish him^{3 note} post-post-haste: despatch^{4 note}

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^{5 note}

I did not see you; welcome, gentle signior; [To Brabantio.
We lack'd your counsel and your help to-night.

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^{6 note}

Duke.
Why, what's the matter?

Bra.
My daughter! O, my daughter!

Sen.
Dead?

Bra.
Ay, to me;
She is abus'd, stol'n from me, and corrupted
By spells and medicines bought of mountebanks^{8 note}

For nature so preposterously to err,
Being not deficient, blind, or lame of sense^{9 note},
Sans witchcraft could not^{1 note}

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* ^note, though our proper son
Stood in your action^{2 note}.

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 and Sen.
We are very sorry for it.

Duke.
What, in your own part, can you say to this? [To Othello.

Bra.
Nothing, but this is so.

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^{3 note}

Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my speech,
And little bless'd with the set phrase of peace^{4 note}

In speaking for myself: Yet, by your gracious patience,
I will a round unvarnish'd^{6 note} 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^{7 note}

Bra.
A maiden never bold;
Of spirit so still and quiet, that her motion
Blush'd at herself^{8 note}; 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, is no proof^{9 note};
Without more certain and more overt test^{1 note},
Than these thin habits, and poor likelihoods
Of modern seeming^{2 note}

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^{3 note}

The trust, the office, I do hold of you^{4 note},
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^{5 note} as to heaven
I do confess^{6 note} 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^{7 note}

Wherein of antres vast^{8 note}

It was my hint to speak^{1 note}