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.

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

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

Duke. Valiant Othello, we must straight employ you

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.

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! O, my daughter! Dead? Ay, to me;

Sen.

Bra.

Enter an Officer, with a Sailor.

Off. A messenger from the galleys.

Duke.

Now? the business?

By signior Angelo.

Duke. How say you by this change? 1 Sen.

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,
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 case and gain,
To wake, and wage, a danger profitless.
Duke. Nay, in all confidence, he's not for Rhodes.
Off. Here is more news.

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.

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 Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my speech, And little bless'd with the set 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 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.

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;
Without more certain and more overt test,1
Than these thin habits, and poor likelihoods
Of modern seeming,2 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 lov'd me; oft invited me; Still question'd me the story of my life,

From year to year; the battles, sicges, 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

'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 lov'd her,
I should but teach him how to tell my story,
And that would woo her. Upon this hint, I spake :
She lov'd me for the dangers I had pass'd;
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, Iago, and Attendants. Duke. I think this tale would win my daughter

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,

8

Which, as a grise, or step, may help these lovers Into your favour.

When remedies are past, the griefs are ended,

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 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;

To mourn a mischief that is past and gone,
Is the next way to draw new mischief on.
What cannot be preserv'd, 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 equivocal:
But words are words; I never yet did hear,
That the bruis'd heart was pierced through the ear.

(7) Intention and attention were once synonymous, (8) Grise from degrees.

(9) i. e. That the wounds of sorrow were ever cured by the words of consolation.

Oth. The tyrant custom, most grave senators,
Hath made the flinty and steel couch of war
My thrice-driven bed of down: I do agnize2
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;3
With such accomodation, and besort,
As levels with her breeding.

Duke.

Be't at her father's.

Bra.

If you please,

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 storm 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 rites, 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,4
In my distinct and proper satisfaction;
But to be free and bounteous to her mind:
And heaven defends 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 housewifes make a skillets of my helm,"
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;

(9) Helmet.

(7) Blind.

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 deceiv'd 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.
[Exeunt Othello and Desdemona.
Rod. Iago.

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 10 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 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 unbitted2 lust; whereof I take this, that you calllove, to be a sect, 13 or scion.

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; I could never better stead thee than now. money in thy purse; follow these wars; defeat thy favour with an usurped beard;14 I say, put money in thy purse. It cannot be, that Desdemona should long continue her love to the Moor,-put money in

Put