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The Tragedy of Othello, the Moor of Venice is a tragedy by William Shakespeare, believed to have been written in the year approximately 1603, and based on the short story Un Capitano Moro ("A Moorish Captain") by Cinthio, a disciple of Boccaccio, first published in 1565. This tightly constructed work revolves around four central characters: Othello, a Moorish general in the Venetian army; his beloved wife, Desdemona; his loyal lieutenant, Cassio; and his trusted but unfaithful ensign, Iago. Because of its varied and current themes of racism, love, jealousy, betrayal, revenge and repentance, Othello is still often performed in professional and community theatre alike and has been the basis for numerous operatic, film, and literary adaptations.
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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-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 Horribly stuff'd 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 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 practise, 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 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 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 the 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 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, 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.
RODERIGO
What a full fortune does the thicklips 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 colour.
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 lock'd?
BRABANTIO
Why, wherefore ask you this?
IAGO
'Zounds, sir, you're robb'd; 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 topping 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 gennets 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 any thing. 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' 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, 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 every where. 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 cheque, 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 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, below, BRABANTIO, and Servants 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' the conscience To do no contrived murder: I lack iniquity Sometimes to do me service: nine or ten times I had thought to have yerk'd 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 you, 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 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?
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.
Enter CASSIO, and certain Officers with torches
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 call'd for; When, being not at your lodging to be found, The senate hath sent about three several guests 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 to-night hath boarded a land carack: If it prove lawful prize, he's made for ever.
CASSIO
I do not understand.
IAGO
He's married.
CASSIO
To who?
Re-enter OTHELLO
IAGO
Marry, to—Come, captain, will you go?
OTHELLO
Have with you.
CASSIO
Here comes another troop to seek for you.
IAGO
It is Brabantio. General, be advised; He comes to bad intent.
Enter BRABANTIO, RODERIGO, and Officers with torches and weapons
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
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 shunned 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 practised on her with foul charms, Abused her delicate youth with drugs or minerals That weaken motion: I'll have't 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.
OTHELLO
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?
BRABANTIO
To prison, till fit time Of law and course of direct session Call thee to answer.
OTHELLO
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?
First Officer
'Tis true, most worthy signior; The duke's in council and your noble self, I am sure, is sent for.
BRABANTIO
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
The DUKE and Senators sitting at a table; Officers attending
DUKE OF VENICE
There is no composition in these news That gives them credit.
First Senator
Indeed, they are disproportion'd; My letters say a hundred and seven galleys.
DUKE OF VENICE
And mine, a hundred and forty.
Second Senator
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 OF VENICE
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!
First Officer
A messenger from the galleys.
Enter a Sailor
DUKE OF VENICE
Now, what's the business?
Sailor
The Turkish preparation makes for Rhodes; So was I bid report here to the state By Signior Angelo.
DUKE OF VENICE
How say you by this change?
First Senator
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 ease and gain, To wake and wage a danger profitless.
DUKE OF VENICE
Nay, in all confidence, he's not for Rhodes.
First Officer
Here is more news.
Enter a Messenger
Messenger
The Ottomites, reverend and gracious, Steering with due course towards the isle of Rhodes, Have there injointed them with an after fleet.
First Senator
Ay, so I thought. How many, as you guess?
Messenger
Of thirty sail: and now they do restem Their backward course, bearing with frank appearance Their purposes toward Cyprus. Signior Montano,