Rod.
Never ^note tell me14Q1487, I take it much unkindly ^note,
That thou, Iago,—who hast had ^note my purse,
As if the strings were thine,—shouldst know of this;

Iag.
But you'll not ^note hear me:
If ever I did dream of such a matter, ^note—

Rod.
Thou toldst me, thou didst hold him in thy hate.

Iag.
Despise me, if I do not. Three great ones of the city,
In personal suit to make me his lieutenant,
Off-cap'd ^note 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,
Horribly stuft with epithets of war;
And, in conclusion, ^note
Non-suits my mediators; for, certes, says he,

I have already chose ^note my officer.
And what was he?
Forsooth, a great arithmetician,
One Michael Cassio14Q1488, a Florentine,
A fellow almost damn'd in a fair face ^note;
That never set a squadron in the field,
Nor the division of a battle knows
More than a spinster; unless the bookish ^note theorique,
Wherein the toged ^note consuls can propose
As masterly as he: meer 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 ^note grounds,
Christian ^note, and heathen,—must be be-lee'd and ^note calm'd
By debtor and creditor, this counter-caster;
He, in good time, must his lieutenant be,
And I (God bless ^note the mark!) his moorship's ancient ^note.

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

Iag.
But there's ^note no remedy, 'tis the curse of service;
Preferment goes by letter, and affection,
And ^note not by old ^note gradation, where each second
Stood heir to the first. Now, sir, be judge yourself,
Whether I in any just term am affin'd ^note
To love the Moor.

Rod.
I would not follow him then.

Iag.
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, trim'd in forms and visages of duty,
Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves;
And, throwing but shows ^note of service on their lords,
Do well thrive by them, and, when they have lin'd their coats,
Do themselves homage: these ^note 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 ^note 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 ^note to peck at; I am not what I am.

Rod.
What a full ^note fortune does the thick-lips owe,
If he can carry't thus!

Iag.
Call up her father,
Rouze him: make after him, poison his delight,
Proclaim him in the streets ^note; 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. [going towards the Door.

Iag.
Do; with like timorous accent, and dire yell,

As when, by night and negligence, the fire
Is spy'd in populous cities.

Rod.
What ho, Brabantio! signior Brabantio, ho!

Iag.
Awake! what ho, Brabantio! thieves, thieves, thieves ^note!
Look to your house, your daughter, and your bags!
Thieves! thieves!

Bra. [within.]
What is the reason of this terrible summons?
What is the matter there?

Rod.
Signior, is all your family within?

Iag.
Are your doors lock'd? ^note

Bra. [within.]
Why? wherefore ask you this?

Iag.
Sir ^note, you are rob'd; for shame, put on your gown;
Your heart is burst, you have lost half your soul;
Even now, now, very now ^note, 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? [appearing above, at a Window.

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)
Upon malicious bravery ^note, dost thou come
To start my quiet:

Rod.
Sir, sir, sir,—

Bra.
But thou must needs be sure,
My spirit ^note, and my place, have in their power ^note
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.

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

Iag.

'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 ^note think we are ruffians: You'll have your daughter cover'd with a Barbary horse; you'll have your nephews neigh to you: you'll have coursers for cousins, and gennets for germans.

Bra.

What prophane wretch art thou?

Iag.

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

Bra.

Thou art a villain.

Iag.

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 pleasure14Q1489, and most wise consent, ^note
(As partly, I find, it is) that your fair daughter
Be, 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 gondalier,— ^note
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 giv'n her leave,—
I say again, hath made a gross revolt;
Tying her duty, beauty, wit, and fortunes,
On an ^note extravagant and wheeling stranger,
Of here and every where: Straight satisfy yourself;
If she be in her chamber ^note, or your house,
Let loose on me the justice of the state,
For thus deluding ^note 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.

Iag.
Farewel; for I must leave you:
It seems not meet, nor wholesome to my place ^note,
To be produc'd ^note (as, if I stay, I shall)
Against the Moor: For, I do know, the state—
However ^note this may gall him with some check,—
Cannot with safety cast him; for he's embark'd
With such loud reason to the Cyprus' war ^note,
(Which even now stands in act) that, for their souls,
Another of his fathom they have not, ^note
To lead their business on: in which regard,
Though I do hate him as I do hell pains ^note,
Yet, for necessity of present life,
I must shew ^note out a flag and sign of love,
Which is indeed but sign. That you shall surely find him,
Lead to the sagittar ^note the raised search;
And there will I be with him. So, farewel. [Exit. Enter, below, Brabantio, and Servants, with Lights.

Bra.
It is too true an evil: gone she is;
And what's to come of my despised time,
Is nought ^note but bitterness.—Now, Roderigo,
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, she deceives ^note me
Past thought!—What said she to you?—Get more ^note tapers;
Raise all my kindred.—Are they marry'd, think you?

Rod.
Truly, I think, they are.

Bra.
O heaven!—How got she out?—O treason of the blood ^note!—
Fathers, from hence trust not your daughters' minds
By what you see them act.—Are there ^note not charms,
By which the property of youth and maidhood ^note
May be abus'd? have you not read, Roderigo,
Of some such thing?

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

Bra.
Call up my brother.—O, would you ^note 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. ^note At every house I'll call,
I may command at most:—Get weapons, ho!
And raise some special officers of might ^note.—
On, good Roderigo; I'll deserve your pains. [Exeunt. SCENE II. The same. Another Street. Enter Othello; Iago, and Others, with him.

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

To do no contriv'd murther; I lack iniquity
Sometimes ^note, to do me service: Nine or ten times
I had thought to have yerk'd him here14Q1490 under the ribs.

Oth.
'Tis better as it is.

Iag.
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 ^note,
Are you fast marry'd? Be assur'd of ^note this,—
That the magnifico is much belov'd;
And hath, in his effect, a voice potential
As double as the duke's: he will divorce you;
Or put upon you what restraint, or grievance,
The law ^note (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 ^note that boasting is an honour,
I shall promulgate ^note) I fetch my life and being
From men of royal siege; ^note and my demerits
May speak, and bonnetted ^{note note}, 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
Put into circumscription and confine
For the sea's worth. But, look! what lights come yond' ^note? Enter, at a Distance, Cassio, and certain Officers, with Torches.

Iag.
Those ^note 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 ^note me rightly. ^note Is it they?

Iag.
By Janus, I think no.

Oth.
The servants of the duke ^note, and my lieutenant.—
The goodness of the night upon you ^note, 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 ^note 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 ^note messengers
This very night, at one ^note another's heels;
And many of the consuls ^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 ^note three several quests,
To search you out.

Oth.
'Tis well I am found by you.
I will but spend ^note a word here in the house,
And go with you. [Exit.

Cas.
Ancient, what makes he here?

Iag.
'Faith, he to-night hath boarded a land-carrack;
If it prove lawful prize, he's made for ever.

Cas.
I do not understand.

Iag.
He's marry'd.

Cas.
To who ^note? Re-enter Othello.

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

Oth.
Have with you. ^note

Cas.
Here comes another troop to seek for you. Enter Brabantio, Roderigo, and Others, with Lights, and Weapons.

Iag.
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. [Brabantio, and his Party, set upon the Others.

Iag.
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 ^note 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 shun'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, ^note
That thou hast practic'd on her with foul charms;
Abus'd her delicate youth with drugs, or minerals,
That weaken notion ^note: I'll have't disputed on;
'Tis probable, and palpable to thinking.
I therefore apprehend and do attach thee,
For an ^note 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 ^note will you that I go
To answer ^note 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 satisfy'd;
Whose messengers are here about my side,
Upon some present business of the state,
To bring me ^note to him?

1. O.
'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, shall our statesmen be. [Exeunt. SCENE III. The same. A Council-chamber. The Duke discover'd sitting at a Table, Senators about him; Officers of the Council, and Others, at a Distance.

Duk.
There is ^note no composition in these news,

That gives them credit.

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

Duk.
And mine, a hundred and forty.

2. S.
And mine, two hundred:
But though they jump not on a just account,
(As in these cases, where the aim ^note reports,
'Tis oft with difference) yet do they all confirm
A Turkish fleet, and bearing up to Cyprus.

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

Sai. [within.]
What ho! what ho! what ho! Enter an Officer, bringing in a Sailor.

Off.
A messenger ^note from the gallies.

Duk.
Now? the ^note business?

Sai.
The Turkish preparation makes for Rhodes;
So was I bid report here to the state,
By signior Angelo ^note. [they withdraw.

Duk.
How say you by this change?

1. S.
This cannot be,
By no assay of reason; '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 bear it,
For that it stands not in such warlike brace, ^note
But altogether lacks the abilities
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.

Duk.
Nay, in all confidence, he's not for Rhodes. Enter a Messenger, usher'd.

Off.
Here is more news.

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

1. S.
Ay, so I thought:—How many, as you guess? ^note

Mes.
Of thirty sail: and now they do re-stem ^note
Their backward course, bearing with frank appearance
Their purposes toward ^note Cyprus. Signior Montano,
Your trusty and most valiant servitor,
With this ^note free duty, recommends you thus,
And prays you to believe ^note him. [retiring.

Duk.
'Tis certain then for Cyprus.
Marcus Lucchese, ^{note note}14Q1491 is not he in ^note town?

1. S.
He's now in Florence.

Duk.
Write from us; wish him ^note post,
Post-haste: dispatch.

1. S.
Here comes Brabantio, and the valiant ^note Moor. Enter Brabantio, Othello, Iago, Roderigo, and Others.

Duk.
Valiant Othello, we must straight employ you
Against the general enemy Ottoman.—
I did not see you; welcome, gentle signior;
We lack'd ^note your counsel and your help to-night.

Bra.
So did I yours: Good your grace, pardon me;
Neither my place, nor ought ^note I heard of business,
Hath rais'd me from my bed; nor doth the general care
Take hold ^note on me; for my particular grief ^note

Is of so flood-gate and o'er-bearing nature,
That it engluts and swallows other sorrows,
And it is still itself.

Duk.
Why, what's the matter?

Bra.
My daughter! o, my daughter!

Sen.
Dead?

Bra.
Ay, to me;
She is abus'd, stoln from me, and corrupted
By spells and medicines ^note bought of mountebanks:
For nature so prepost'rously to err,
Being not deficient, blind, or lame of sense, ^note
Sans witchcraft could not be.

Duk.
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 ^note sense; yea ^note, 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.

Sen.
We are very sorry for't.

Duk.
What, in your own part, can you say to this?

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 marry'd her;
The very head and front of my offending
Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I ^note in my speech,
And little bless'd with the soft ^note 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 then ^note pertains to feats ^note of broil ^note 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 ^note tale deliver,
Of my whole course of love; what drugs, what charms,
What conjuration, and what mighty magick,
(For such proceeding I am ^note charg'd withal)
I won his daughter with ^note

Bra.
A maiden never bold;
Of spirit ^note so still and quiet, that her motion
Blush'd at herself ^note; And she,—in spight 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 ^note, and most imperfect,
That will confess—perfection so could err,
Against all rules of nature; and must be driven
To find out practises 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.

Duk. ^note
To vouch ^note this, is no proof;
Without more certain and ^note more overt test ^note,
Than these thin ^note habits, and poor likelihoods
Of modern seeming, do prefer ^note against him.

1. S.
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 sagittar ^note,
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, ^note
Not only take away, but let your sentence
Even fall upon my life.

Duk.
Fetch Desdemona hither. [to some Attendants.

Oth.
Ancient, conduct them; you best know the place.— [Exeunt Attendants, and Iago.
And, 'till she come, as truly as ^note to heaven
I do confess the vices of my blood, ^note
So justly to your grave ears I'll present
How I did thrive in this fair lady's love,
And she in mine.

Duk.
Say it, Othello.

Oth.
Her father lov'd me; oft invited me;
Still question'd me the story ^note of my life,
From year to year, the battles ^note, sieges, fortunes ^note,
That I have pass'd:
I ran it through, even from my boyish days,
To the very moment that he bad me tell it.
Wherein I spake ^note of most disastrous chances,
Of moving accidents, by flood ^note, and field;
Of hair-breadth 'scapes i' the imminent deadly breach;
Of being taken by the insolent foe,
And sold to slavery; of my ^note redemption thence,
And portance in my ^note travel's ^note history:14Q1492
Wherein of antres vast, and desarts idle, ^note
Rough quarries, rocks, and ^note hills whose heads ^note touch heaven,

It was my hint ^note to speak, such was the process ^note;
And of the Canibals that each other ^note eat,
The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads
Do grow ^note beneath their shoulders. These things to hear ^note,
Would Desdemona seriously incline:
But still the house affairs would draw her thence ^note;
Which ever as she could with haste dispatch,
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 ^note she had something heard,
But not distinctively ^note: I did consent;
And often did beguile her of her tears,
When I did speak of some distressful ^note stroke
That my youth suffer'd. My story being done,
She gave me for my pains a world of sighs ^note:
She swore,—in faith ^note, '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 bad me, if I had a friend that lov'd her,
I should but teach him how to tell my story,
And that would woo her. Upon this hint, I ^note spake:
She lov'd me for the dangers I had pass'd ^note;
And I lov'd her, that she did pity them.
This only is the witchcraft I have us'd;
Here comes the lady, let her witness it. Enter Desdemona, attended; Iago, and the Others, following.

Duk.
I think, this tale would win my daughter too.—

Good Brabantio,
Take up this mangl'd 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 ^note my bad blame
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 ^note,
I am hitherto your daughter: But here's my husband;
And so much duty as my mother shew'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 wi' you; I have done ^note:—
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 ^note
I would keep from thee:—And, 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.

Duk.
Let me speak like yourself;14Q1493 and lay a sentence,
Which, like a ^note grise, or step, may help these lovers

Into your favour ^note.
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 ^note on.
What cannot be preserv'd when fortune takes,
Patience her injury a mockery makes.
The rob'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 ^note was pieced ^note through the ear.
  I humbly beseech you, proceed to the affairs of state ^note. [goes to his Seat.

Duk.

The Turk with a most ^note mighty preparation makes for Cyprus:—Othello, the fortitude of the place is best known to you: And though we have there ^note a substitute of most allow'd sufficiency, yet opinion, a sovereign ^note mistress of effects, throws a more safe ^note voice on you: you must therefore be content, to slubber the gloss ^note of your new fortunes with this more stubborn and boistrous expedition.

Oth.
The tyrant custom, most grave senators ^note,
Hath made the flinty and steel couch ^note of war
My thrice-driv'n bed of down: I do agnize

A natural and prompt alacrity,
I find in hardness; and do undertake ^note
This present war ^note against the Ottomites.
Most humbly therefore bending to your state,
I crave fit disposition for my wife;
Due reference ^note of place, and exhibition;
With such accommodation, and besort,
As levels with her breeding.

Duk.
If you please,
Be't at ^note her father's.

Bra.
I'll ^note not have it so.

Oth.
Nor I.

Des.
Nor I; I would not there ^note reside,
To put my father in impatient thoughts,
By being in his eye. Most gracious duke,
To my unfolding lend a gracious ear ^note;
And let me find a charter ^note in your voice,
To assist my ^note simpleness.

Duk.
What would you, ^note Desdemona?

Des.
That I did ^note love the Moor to live with him,
My down-right violence and storm of ^note fortunes,
May trumpet to the world; my heart's subdu'd
Even to the very quality of ^note 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 rites, for which I ^note love him, are bereft me,
And I a heavy interim shall support
By his dear absence: Let me go with him.

Oth.
Your voices, ^note lords; beseech you, let her will

Have a free way. I ^note therefore beg it not,14Q1494
To please the palate of my appetite;
Nor to comply with heat, (the young affects ^note
In me defunct ^note) 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 ^note scant,
For she ^note is with me; No, when light-wing'd toys
Of feather'd Cupid, seel with ^note wanton dulness
My speculative and offic'd instrument ^note,
That my disports corrupt and taint my business,
Let huswives make a skillet of my helm,
And all indign and base adversities
Make head against my estimation ^note!

Duk.
Be it as you shall privately determine,
Either for her stay ^note, or going: the affair cries ^note—haste,
And speed must answer it ^note; you must hence to-night. ^note

Des.
To-night, my lord?

Duk.
This night.

Oth.
With all my heart. ^note

Duk.
At nine i' the ^note morning here we'll meet again— [to the Senators, rising.
Othello, leave some officer behind,
And he shall our commission bring to you;
And such ^note things else of quality and respect, ^note
As doth import you.

Oth.
Please ^note 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 ^note grace shall think
To be sent after me.

Duk.
Let it be so.—

Good night to every one.—And, noble signior, [to Brabantio.
If virtue no delighting ^note beauty lack,
Your son-in-law is far more fair than black.

1. S.
Adieu, brave Moor! use Desdemona well.

Bra.
Look to her, Moor, if thou hast eyes to ^note see;
She has deceiv'd her father, and may thee ^note. [Exeunt Duke, Sen. Bra. &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 ^note in the best ^note advantage.—
Come, Desdemona; I have but an hour,
Of love, of worldly matter ^note and direction,
To spend with ^note thee: we must obey the time. [Exeunt Oth. and Des.

Rod.

Iago,—

Iag.

What say'st thou, noble heart?

Rod.

What will I do, think'st thou?

Iag.

Why, go to bed, and sleep.

Rod.

I will incontinently drown myself.

Iag.

Well, if thou dost, I shall never love thee after. Why, thou silly gentleman!

Rod.

It is silliness to live, when to live is a torment ^note: and then have we a prescription to die, when death is our physician.

Iag.

O villanous! ^note I have look'd upon the world for four times seven years: and since I could distinguish betwixt ^note a benefit and an injury, I never found man ^note 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 my virtue to amend it.

Iag.

Virtue? A fig! 'tis in ourselves, that we are thus, or thus. Our bodies are our gardens ^note; to the which, our wills are gardiners: 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 have ^note it steril with idleness, or manur'd with industry; why, the power and corrigible authority of this lies in our wills. If the beam of ^{note note} our lives14Q1495 had not one scale of reason, to poize another of sensuality, the blood and baseness of our natures would conduct us to most prepost'rous conclusions. But we have reason, to cool our raging motions, our carnal ^note stings, our unbitted lusts; whereof I take this, that you call—love, to be a sect, or scyon.

Rod.

It cannot be.

Iag.

It is meerly a lust of the blood, and a permission of the will. Come, be a man: Drown thyself? drown cats, and blind puppies. I have profess'd ^note me thy friend, and I confess me knit to thy deserving with cables of perdurable toughness; I could never better steed ^note thee than now. Put money in thy purse: follow these wars ^note; defeat thy favour with an usurp'd beard; I say, put money in thy purse. It cannot be, that Desdemona should long continue her love unto ^note the Moor,—put money in thy purse;—nor he his ^note to her: it was a violent commencement in her ^note, 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 ^note as bitter as coloquintida ^note. She

must change for youth: ^note when she is sated with his body, she will find the error ^note of her choice; therefore put money in thy purse. 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 ^note super-subtle 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 ^note! it is clean out of the way: seek thou rather to be hang'd in compassing thy joy, than to be drown'd and go without her.

Rod.

Wilt thou be fast to my hopes, if I depend on the issue ^note?

Iag.

Thou art sure of me;—Go, make money:—I have told thee often, and I re-tell ^note thee again and again, I hate the Moor: my cause is hearted; thine hath no ^note less reason: Let us be conjunctive ^note in our revenge against him: if thou canst cuckold him, thou dost thyself a pleasure, me ^note 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' th' morning?

Iag.

At my lodging.

Rod.

I'll be with thee betimes.

Iag.

Go to, farewel. ^note.14Q1496

Rod.

I'll sell all my land.

Iag.
Thus do I ever make my fool my purse:
For I mine own gain'd knowledge should prophane,
If I would time expend with such a snipe ^note,
But for my sport, and profit. I hate the Moor;
And it is thought abroad, that 'twixt my sheets

He has ^note done my office: I know not, if't be true;
But I ^note, for meer 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 ^note place, and to plume up ^note my will
In double ^note knavery,—How, how?—Let's see ^note:
After some time, to abuse Othello's ear ^note,
That he is too familiar with his wife:—
He hath a person, and a smooth dispose,
To be suspected; fram'd to make women false:
The Moor is of a free and open nature, ^note
That thinks men honest, that but seem ^note to be so;
And will as tenderly be led by the nose,
As asses are.
I have't; it is engender'd: Hell and night
Must bring this monstrous birth to the world's light. [Exit.

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