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Some kind of Bard... aaaasss It's Gonna End Bardly! He's a bardass brother with the love of a fine woman. That is until some cloven hoofed honky starts talking crazy about variously hued sheep tupping the hell outta each other! You gotta pity the fool who gets shafted by the green eyed monster. Let's hope Othello can work out who to trust before it's too late...
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It’s Gonna End Bardly!
He’s a bardass brother with the love of a fine woman. That is until some cloven-hoofed honky starts talking crazy about variously hued sheep tupping the hell outta each other! You gotta pity the fool who gets shafted by the green-eyed monster. Let’s hope Othello can work out who to trust before it’s too late…
William Shakespeare (1564–1616) was an English poet, playwright and actor, widely regarded as the greatest writer in the English language and the world’s pre-eminent dramatist. He is often called England’s national poet and the ‘Bard of Avon’. His works consist of about 38 plays,154 sonnets, two long narrative poems, and a few other verses. His plays have been translated into every major living language and are performed more often than those of any other playwright.
David Mann is an artist and illustrator who studied illustration at the Cambridge School of Art. He has previously illustrated for both publishers and corporate clients. He lives in Hertfordshire.
Praise for Pulp! The Classics
‘A memorable take on some of literature’s most celebrated texts’–The Creative Review
‘I think Pulp! The Classics could be a good way to introduce The Hound of the Baskervilles to a new readership and also jolt some people who do know the book into a new perception of it’–Mystery People
‘I’m a sucker for pulp and good packaging, so when I came across the following redesigns, you can only imagine my delight’–Journal Pulp
‘Classic literature never looked so good’–Lion and the Hunter
‘Illustrator David Mann has risen to the challenge with his stirring set of covers. Your English teacher wouldn’t like them (but your librarian would)’–Illustration Cloud
‘A hip cover that apes the beautiful stark paperbacks of the 1950s pulp novel boom’–Catholic Herald
‘Mr Darcy is the cover boy, with a fag hanging out of his mouth and a cravat knotted rakishly around his neck’–Toronto Star
‘It is so great that you are doing this kind of publishing. Turning classics into fun’–John Bird, founder of The Big Issue
‘It’s a clever gambit… care and attention has gone into the product’–Independent
‘Retro 1950s aesthetics, red page edges and pretend scuffmarks’– New York Times
‘Great literature, pulp cover’–Mr Hyde, (Shortlist)
‘Never judge a book by its cover, except, that is, when you’re being invited to do just that’–Harper’s Bazaar
‘The new covers evoke the wry humour and rough-edged illustrations popular with magazines in the 1950s and 60s’–Huffington Post UK
‘We ♥ Pulp! The Classics’–Huffington Post USA
‘The new jackets from Pulp! The Classics are funny and ironic’–Joanne Harris, Author ofChocolat
‘Eye-catching, retro covers’–Bookseller
‘We love this book – amazing new… edition of Pride & Prejudice’–We Love This Book
‘A pulp cover for Pride & Prejudice– love it’–Justine Jordan, deputy books editor,Guardian
‘Brilliant new edition of Pride & Prejudice’– Fabulous Magazine, (Sunday Sun)
‘Amazing idea… these are magnificent’–Vagenda
‘Imitation tattered paper and bold colours… accompanied with witty taglines’– Design Taxi
Titles in this series
A Christmas Carol
Dubliners
Frankenstein
The Great Gatsby
The Hound of the Baskervilles
Othello
The Picture of Dorian Gray
Pride & Prejudice
Robinson Crusoe
Romeo and Juliet
Tess of the D’Urbervilles
Wuthering Heights
DUKE,of Venice
BRABANTIO, father to Desdemona, a Venetian senator
SENATORS, of Venice
GRATIANO, a noble Venetian, Desdemona’s uncle
LODOVICO, a noble Venetian, Desdemona’s cousin
OTHELLO, a noble Moor, a general in the service of Venice
CASSIO, an honourable lieutenant, who serves under Othello
IAGO, a villain, Othello’s ancient or ensign
MONTANO, governor of Cyprus, replaced by Othello
RODERIGO, a gulled gentleman of Venice
CLOWN, servant to Othello
SAILOR
GENTLEMEN, of Cyprus
DESDEMONA, wife to Othello, and Brabantio’s daughter
EMILIA, wife to Iago
BIANCA, a courtesan and Cassio’s mistress
Officers, Gentlemen, Messenger, Musicians, Herald and Attendants
ACT I
Scene I Venice. A street.
Scene II Venice. Another street.
Scene III Venice. A council chamber.
ACT II
Scene I A seaport in Cyprus. A platform.
Scene II A street.
Scene III A hall in the castle.
ACT III
Scene I Cyprus. Before the castle.
Scene II Cyprus. A room in the castle.
Scene III Cyprus. The garden of the castle.
Scene IV Cyprus. Before the castle.
ACT IV
Scene I Cyprus. Before the castle.
Scene II Cyprus. A room in the castle.
Scene III Cyprus. Another room in the castle.
ACT V
Scene I Cyprus. A street.
Scene II Cyprus. A bedchamber in the castle.
Copyright
Enter RODERIGO and IAGO.
RODERIGO
Tush, never tell me, I take it much unkindly
That thou, Iago, who hast had my purse
As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this.
IAGO
‘Sblood, but you will not hear me. If ever I did dream
Of such a matter, abhor me.
RODERIGO
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,
Off-capped 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 stuffed with epithets of war,
And in conclusion
Nonsuits my mediators. For, ‘Certes,’ says he,
‘I have already chose my officer.’
And what was he?
Forsooth, a great arithmetician,
One Michael Cassio, a Florentine,
A fellow almost damned 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 th’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-leed and calmed
By debitor and creditor. This counter-caster
He, in good time, must his lieutenant be
And I, God bless the mark, his Moorship’s ancient!
RODERIGO
By heaven, I rather would have been his hangman.
IAGO
Why, there’s no remedy, ’tis the curse of service:
Preferment goes by letter and affection
And not by old gradation, where each second
Stood heir to th’ first. Now sir, be judge yourself
Whether I in any just term am affined
To love the Moor.
RODERIGO
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 followed. 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, cashiered.
Whip me such honest knaves! Others there are
Who, trimmed 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 complement 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.
RODERIGO
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 flies! Though that his joy be joy
Yet throw such changes of vexation on’t
As it may lose some color.
RODERIGO
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.
RODERIGO
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 appears above at a window.
BRABANTIO
What is the reason of this terrible summons?
What is the matter there?
RODERIGO
Signior, is all your family within?
IAGO
Are your doors locked?
BRABANTIO
Why, wherefore ask you this?
IAGO
Zounds, sir, you’re robbed, for shame, put on your gown!
Your heart is burst, you have lost half your soul,
Even now, now, very now, 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!
BRABANTIO
What, have you lost your wits?
RODERIGO
Most reverend signior, do you know my voice?
BRABANTIO
Not I, what are you?
RODERIGO
My name is Roderigo.
BRABANTIO
The worser welcome!
I have charged 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 dost thou come
To start my quiet?
RODERIGO
Sir, sir, sir, –
BRABANTIO
But thou must needs be sure
My spirit and my place have in them power
To make this bitter to thee.
RODERIGO
Patience, good sir!
BRABANTIO
What tell’st thou me of robbing? This is Venice:
My house is not a grange.
RODERIGO
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, and 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 jennets for germans!
BRABANTIO
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.
BRABANTIO
Thou art a villain!
IAGO
You are a senator!
BRABANTIO
This thou shalt answer. I know thee, Roderigo!
RODERIGO
Sir, I will answer anything. But I beseech 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’ th’ 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,
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 given her leave,
I say again, hath made a gross revolt,
Tying her duty, beauty, wit, and fortunes
In an extravagant and wheeling stranger
Of here and everywhere. Straight satisfy yourself:
If she be in her chamber or your house
Let loose on me the justice of the state
For thus deluding you.
BRABANTIO
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 above.
IAGO
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 embarked
With such loud reason to the Cyprus wars,
Which even now stand 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 the raised search,
And there will I be with him. So farewell.
Exit.
Enter BRABANTIO in his night-gown andservants with torches.
BRABANTIO
It is too true an evil, gone she is,
And what’s to come of my despised time
Is nought 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 me
Past thought! – What said she to you? – Get more tapers,
Raise all my kindred. Are they married, think you?
RODERIGO
Truly, I think they are.
BRABANTIO
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
By which the property of youth and maidhood
May be abused? Have you not read, Roderigo,
Of some such thing?
RODERIGO
Yes sir, I have indeed.
BRABANTIO
Call up my brother. – O, would you had had her!
Some one way, some another. – Do you know
Where we may apprehend her and the Moor?
RODERIGO
I think I can discover him, if you please
To get good guard and go along with me.
BRABANTIO
Pray you lead on. At every house I’ll call,
I may command at most: get weapons, ho!
And raise some special officers of night.
On, good Roderigo, I’ll deserve your pains.
Exeunt.
Enter OTHELLO, IAGO, and attendants with torches.
IAGO
Though in the trade of war I have slain men
Yet do I hold it very stuff o’ th’ conscience
To do no contrived murder: I lack iniquity
Sometimes to do me service. Nine or ten times
I had thought t’have yerked him here, under the ribs.
OTHELLO
’Tis better as it is.
IAGO
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,
Are you fast married? Be assured of this,
That the magnifico is much beloved
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.
OTHELLO
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 – I fetch my life and being
From men of royal siege, and my demerits
May speak unbonneted to as proud a fortune
As this that I have reached. 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?
Enter CASSIO, with officers and torches.
IAGO
Those are the raised father and his friends,
You were best go in.
OTHELLO
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.
OTHELLO
The servants of the duke? and my lieutenant?
The goodness of the night upon you, friends.
What is the news?
CASSIO
The duke does greet you, general,
And he requires your haste-post-haste appearance
Even on the instant.
OTHELLO
What is the matter, think you?
CASSIO
Something from Cyprus, as I may divine;
It is a business of some heat. The galleys
Have sent a dozen sequent messengers
This very night, at one another’s heels,
And many of the consuls, raised and met,
Are at the duke’s already. You have been hotly called for,
When, being not at your lodging to be found,
The Senate hath sent about three several quests
To search you out.
OTHELLO
’Tis well I am found by you:
I will but spend a word here in the house
And go with you.
Exit.
CASSIO
Ancient, what makes he here?
IAGO
Faith, he tonight hath boarded a land carrack:
If it prove lawful prize, he’s made forever.
CASSIO
I do not understand.
IAGO
He’s married.
CASSIO
To whom?
IAGO
Marry, to –
Enter OTHELLO.
Come, captain, will you go?
OTHELLO
Ha’ with you.
CASSIO
Here comes another troop to seek for you.
Enter BRABANTIO, RODERIGO, with officers and torches and weapons.
IAGO
It is Brabantio: general, be advised,
He comes to bad intent.
OTHELLO
Holla, stand there!
RODERIGO
Signior, it is the Moor.
BRABANTIO
Down with him, thief!
[They draw on both sides.]
IAGO
You, Roderigo! Come sir, I am for you.
OTHELLO
Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust them.
Good signior, you shall more command with years
Than with your weapons.
BRABANTIO