of the city,

In personal suit to make me his lieutenant,
On 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: fir certes,3 says he,

I have alrea ly 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;

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 1-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;
He, in good time, must his lieutenant be,
And 1,(God bless the mark!) his Moorship's an-

cient.

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 naught 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 lined
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 lies; though that his joy be joy
Yet throw such changes of vexation on't,
As it may lose some color.

Rod. Here is her father's house; I'll call aloud. Iugo. Do; with like timerous accent, and dire yell, As when, by night and negligence, the fire Is spied in populous cities.

Rod. What ho! Brabantio! signior Brabantio, no! Iago. Awake! what ho! Brabantio! thieves! thieves! thieves!

Look to your house, your daughter, and your bags' Thieves! thieves!

BRABANTIO, above, at a Window.

what is the matter there!

Bra. What is the reason of this terrible summo'♬ !

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, you have lost half your soul;

• Own, possess.

But thou must needs be sure, My spirit, and my place, have in them power To make this bitter to thee.

Patience, good sir.

Rod.
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.
Iago. 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.

Bru. What profane wretch art thou?

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

seech you,

if't be your pleasure, and most wise consent,
(As partly, I find, it is,) that your fair daughter,
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 gondolier-
To the gross clasps of a lascivious Moor,-
If this be known to you, and your allowance,1
We then have done you bold and saugy 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 given her leave,-
I say again, hath made a gross revolt;
Tying her duty, beauty, wit, and fortunes,
In an extravagant2 and wheeling stranger,
Of here and everywhere: Straight satisfy your

self:

If she be in her chamber, or your house, 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. lago. Farewell; for I must leave you: It seems not meet, nor wholesome to my place, To be produced (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 cast 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,

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
Is naught but bitterness. Now, Roderigo,
Where didst thou see her?-0, 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?-0 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.

Yes, sir; I have indeed. Bra. Call up my brother.-0), that 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. At every house I'll call;
And raise some special officers of night.-
I may command at most;-Get weapons, ho!
On, good Roderigo :-I'll deserve your pains.

SCENE II-Another Street.

[Exeunt.

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,
Sometimes, to do me service: Nine or ten times
To do no contriv'd murder; I lack iniquity
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 honor,

That with the little godliness I have,

I did full hard forbear him. But, I pray, sir,
Are you fast married? for, be sure of 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 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 know
shall promulgate.) I fetch my life and being
Which when I know that boasting is an honor,
From men of royal siege; and my demerits
May speak, unbonneted, to as proud a fortune
As this that I have reach'd: For know, lago,
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 com yonder?

Enter CASSIO, at a distance, and certain Office 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 lieutenar. The goodness of the night upon you, friends! What is the news?

Cas.

The duke does greet you, genera. And he requires your haste-post-haste appearance, Even on the instant.

Oth. What is the matter, think you? Cus. Something from Cyprus, as I may divine; It is a business of some heat: the galleys

■ Old age. ♦ Brabantio. Magnifico is his title as senator. Seat or throne.

Demerits bas the same meaning in Shakspeare as merita

Have sent a dozen sequent messengers
This very night at one another's heels;
And many of the consuls, 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 three several quests,
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? Iago. 'Faith, he to-night hath boarded a land carack;7

If it prove lawful prize, he's made for ever.

Cas. I do not understand.

Hola! stand there!

Oth.
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.
Judge me the world, 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:-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 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-A Council Chamber. The DUKE and Senators, sitting at a Table; Officers attending.

Duke. There is no composition in these news, That gives them credit. 1 Sen. Indeed, they are disproportion'd; My letters say, a hundred and seven galleys. • Consistency.

A rich vessel.

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 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.

Sailor. [Within.] What ho! what ho! what ho.
Enter an Officer, with a Sailor.
Off. A messenger from the galleys.
Duke.
Now? the business?
Sailor. The Turkish preparation makes for

Rhodes:

So was I bid report here to the state, 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,2
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 wage3 a danger profitless.
Duke. Nay, in all confidence, he's not for Rhodes
Off. Here is more news.

Enter a Messenger.