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.-The same.-A Council Chamber
The DUKE and SENATORS, sitting at a Table;
Officers attending.

Duke. There is no composition in these That gives them credit. [news,

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 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 judg

ment;

I do not so secure me in the error, But the main article I do approve,

In fearful sense.

Enter BRABANTIO, OTHELLO, IAGO, RODERIGO' and Officers.

Duke. Valiant Othello, we must straight employ you

Against the general enemy Ottoman.

I did not see you; welcome, gentle Signior; [To BRABANTIO

We lack'd your counsel and your help to-night.
Bra. So did I your's: Good your grace, pardon
ine;
[ness,
Neither my place, nor aught I heard of busi
Hath rais'd me from my bed; nor doth the ge-
neral 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! Sen. Dead?

Bra. Ay, to me;

She is abus'd, stolen from me, and corrupted
By spells and medicines bought of mountebanks;
For nature so preposterously to err,

Being not deficient, blind, or lame of sense,
Sans witchcraft could not-

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

ho!

Enter an OFFICER, with a SAILOR.

Off. A messenger from the gallies.
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 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 ease and gain,
To wake; and wage a danger profitless.

After your own sense; yea, though our proper

niors,

Rhodes.

guess?

pearance

Mess. Of thirty sail and now do they restem Their backward course, bearing with frank ap[tano, Their purposes toward Cyprus.-Signior MonYour trusty and most valiant servitor, With his free duty recommends you thus, And prays you to believe him.

Duke. 'Tis certain then for Cyprus.Marcus Lucchesé, is he not in town? 1 Sen. He's now in Florence.

Duke. Write from us; wish him post-posthaste despatch.

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

• I. e. Our offices of state will be filled by the pagans and bond-slaves of Africa. + Concordancy. State of defence

Less opposition.

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 charg'd 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 na. ture,

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 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 th
blood,

Or with some dram conjur❜d to this effect,
He wrought upon her.

Duke. To vouch this, is no proof;
+ Accusation.

• Without.

1 Best exertion.

Without more certain and more overt-test, Than these thin habits, and poor likelihoods Of modern seeming, † do prefer against him. 1 Sen. But, Othello, speak ;Did you by indirect and forced courses Subdue and poison this young maid's tions?

Good Brabantio,

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 coine, 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, 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
Of being taken by the insolent foe, [breach;
And sold to slavery; of my redemption thence,
And portance in my travel's history:
Wherein of antres || vast, and desarts 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: [thence;
But still the house affairs would draw her
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
ing strange;

"Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful;
She wish'd she had not heard it; yet
wish'd

That heaven had made her such a man;

thank'd me;

Do you perceive in all this noble company,
Where most you owe obedience ?

Des. My noble father,

I do perceive bere 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
Ljewel,
I would keep from thee. For your sake,
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,
[lovers
Which as a grise, or step, may help these
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 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 beers
But the free comfort which from thence be

she

she

And bade me if I had a friend that lov'd ber,
I should but teach him how to tell my story,
And that would woo her. Upon this hint, I
She lov'd me for the dangers I had pass'd,[spake :
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 daugh.

ter too.

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 en you: you must therefore be content to slubber 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 aguize [
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 exibition,

Give renew'd fire to our extincted spirits,
And bring all Cyprus comfort!-O behold,
Enter DESDEMONA, EMILIA, IAGO, RODERIGO,
and Attendants-

The riches of the ship is come on shore!
Ye men of Cyprus, let her have your knees ;—
Hail to thee, lady and the grace of heaven,
Before, behind thee, and on every hand,
Enwheel thee round.

Des. I thank you, valiant Cassio.
What tidings can you tell me of my lord?
Cas. He is not yet arriv'd; nor know I aught
But that he's well, and will be shortly here.

Des. O but I fear;-How lost you company? Cas. The great contention of the sea and skies

Parted our fellowship. But, hark! a sail.

[Cry within, A sail, a sail! Then Guns heard.

2 Gent. They give their greeting to the citadel: This likewise is a friend.

[Exit GENTLEMAN. welcome ;-Welcome, [TO EMILIA.

Cas. See for the news. Good ancient, you are inistress:Let it not gall your patience, good lago, That I extend my manners: 'tis my breeding That gives me this bold show of courtesy. [Kissing her. Iago. Sir, would she give you so much of her lips,

As of her tongue she oft bestows on me,
You'd have enough.

Des. Alas! she has no speech.

Iago. In faith, too much;

I find it still, when I have list to sleep:
Marry, before your ladyship, I grant
She puts her tongue a little in her heart,
And chides with thinking.

Emil. You have little cause to say so.
Iago. Come on, come on: you are pictures
out of doors,

Bells in your parlours, wild cats in your kit chens,

Saints in your injuries, devils being offended, Players in your housewifery, and housewives in your beds.

Des. Ó fie upon thee, slanderer!

Iago. Nay, it is true, or else I am a Turk;
You rise to play, and go to bed to work.
Emil. You shall not write my praise.
lago. No, let me not.

Des. What wouldst thou write of me, if thou shouldst praise ine?

lago. O gentle lady, do not put me to't: For I am nothing, if not critical. +

Iago. There's none so foul, and foolish there. unto,

(do.

But does foul pranks which fair and wise ones Des. O heavy ignorance !--thou praisest the worst best. But what praise couldst thou pestow on a deserving woman indeed! one, that, in the authority of her merit, did justly put on the vouch of very malice itself?

Iago. She that was ever fair, and never proud;

Had tongue at will, and yet was never loud;
Never lack'd gold, and yet went never gay;
Fled from her wish, and yet said,-now I may;
She that, being anger'd, her revenge being
nigh,

Bade her wrong stay, and her displeasure fly;
She, that in wisdom never was so frail,

To change the cod's head for the salmon's tail; She that could think, and ne'er disclose her mind,

See suitors following, and not look behind;
She was a wight,-if ever such wight were,-
Des. To do what?

Iago. To suckle fools, and chronicle small beer.

Des. O most lame and impotent conclusion -Do not learn of him, Emilia, though he be thy husband.-How say you, Cassio? is he not a most profane and liberal counsellor ?

Cas. He speaks home, madam; you may relish him more in the soldier, than in the scholar.

Iago. [Aside.] He takes her by the palin : Ay, well said, whisper: with as little a web as this, will I ensnare as great a fly as Cassio. Ay, smile upon her, do; I will gyve thee in thine own courtship. You say true; 'tis so indeed : if such tricks as these strip you out of your lieutenantry, it had been better you had not kissed your three fingers so oft, which now again you are most apt to play the Sir in. Very good; well kissed! an excellent courtesy ! 'tis so, indeed. Yet again your fingers to your lips? would they were clyster-pipes for your sake ?―[Trumpet.] The Moor, I know his trumpet.

Cas. 'Tis truly so.

Des. Let's meet him, and receive him.
Cas. Lo, where he comes!

Enter OTHELLO, and Attendants.

Oth. O my fair warrior!

Des. My dear Othello!

Oth. It gives me wonder great as my content,

To see you here before me. O my soul's joy! If after every tempest come such calms,

the harbour.

Iago. Ay, madam.

Des. I am not merry; but I do beguile The thing I am, by seeming otherwise.Come, how wouldst thou praise me?

lago. I am about it; but, indeed, my inven

tion

[frize, Comes from my pate, as birdlime does from It plucks out brains and all: But my muse labours,

And thus she is deliver❜d.

If she be fair and wise,-fairness and wit,-
The one's for use, the other useth it.

Des. Well prais'd! How if she be black and witty?

Iago. If she be black, and thereto have a wit,

She'll find a white that shall her blackness fit. Des. Worse and worse.

Emil. How, if fair and foolish ?

lago. She never yet was foolish that was fair;

For even her folly help'd her to an heir.

Des. These are old fond paradoxes, to make fools laugh i'the alebouse. What miserable praise hast thou for her that's foul and foolish?

death!

And let the labouring bark climb hills of seas,
Olympus-high, and duck again as low
As bell's from heaven! If it were now to die,
'Twere now to be most happy; for, I fear,
My soul hath her content so absolute,
That not another comfort like to this
Succeeds in unknown fate.

Des. The heavens forbid,

But that our loves and comforts should increase, Even as our days do grow!

Oth. Amen to that, sweet powers!—

I cannot speak enough of this content,
It stops me here; it is too much of joy:
And this, and this, the greatest discords be,
[Kissing her.

That e'er our hearts shall make !
Jago. O you are well tun'd now!
But I'll set down the pegs that make this music,
As honest as I am.
[Aside.

Oth. Come, let's to the castle.News, friends: our wars are done, the Turks are drown'd.