FIRST SENATOR
Indeed, they are disproportioned.
My letters say a hundred and seven galleys.
DUKE
And mine a hundred-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
Nay, it is possible enough to judgement.
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!
OFFICER
A messenger from the galleys.
DUKE Now, what’s the business?
SAILOR
The Turkish preparation makes for Rhodes.
So was I bid report here to the state
By Signor Angelo.
DUKE (
to Senators
) 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 th’abilities
That Rhodes is dressed 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
Nay, in all confidence, he’s not for Rhodes.
OFFICER Here is more news.
MESSENGER
The Ottomites, reverend and gracious,
Steering with due course toward 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. Signor Montano,
Your 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 Luccicos, is not he in town?
FIRST SENATOR He’s now in Florence.
DUKE
Write from us to him post-post-haste. Dispatch.
Enter Brabanzio, Othello, Roderigo, Iago, Cassio, and officers
FIRST SENATOR
Here comes Brabanzio and the valiant Moor.
DUKE
Valiant Othello, we must straight employ you
Against the general enemy Ottoman.
(To Brabanzio) I did not see you. Welcome, gentle
signor.
We lacked your counsel and your help tonight.
BRABANZIO
So did I yours. Good your grace, pardon me.
Neither my place, nor aught I heard of business,
Hath raised me from my bed, nor doth the general
care
Take hold on me; for my particular grief
Is of so floodgate and o’erbearing nature
That it engluts and swallows other sorrows,
And it is still itself.
DUKE
Why, what’s the matter?
BRABANZIO
My daughter, O, my daughter!
SENATORS
Dead?
BRABANZIO
Ay, to me.
She is abused, stol’n 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 beguiled your daughter of herself
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.
BRABANZIO
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.
SENATORS We are very sorry for’t.
DUKE (
to Othello
)
What in your own part can you say to this?
BRABANZIO Nothing but this is so.
OTHELLO
Most potent, grave, and reverend signors,
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 blessed with the soft phrase of peace,
For since these arms of mine had seven years’ pith
Till now some nine moons wasted, they have used
Their dearest action in the tented field,
And little of this great world can I speak
More than pertains to feats of broils and battle.
And therefore little shall I grace my cause
In speaking for myself. Yet, by your gracious patience,
I will a round unvarnished tale deliver
Of my whole course of love, what drugs, what charms,
What conjuration and what mighty magic—
For such proceeding I am charged withat—
I won his daughter.
BRABANZIO
A maiden never bold,
Of spirit so still and quiet that her motion
Blushed at hersetf—and she in spite of nature,
Of years, of country, credit, everything,
To fall in love with what she feared to look on!
It is a judgement maimed and most imperfect
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 conjured to this effect,
He wrought upon her.
DUKE
To vouch this is no proof
Without more wider and more overt test
Than these thin habits and poor likelihoods
Of modern seeming do prefer against him.
A SENATOR 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?
OTHELLO
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 (to officers)
Fetch Desdemona hither.
OTHELLO
Ensign, conduct them. You best know the place.
Exit
Iago
with two or three officers
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.
OTHELLO
Her father loved me, oft invited me,
Still questioned me the story of my life
From year to year, the battles, sieges, fortunes
That I have passed.
I ran it through even from my boyish days
To th’ 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‘th’ imminent deadly breach,
Of being taken by the insolent foe
And sold to slavery, of my redemption thence,
And portance in my traveller’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 my 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,
But still the house affairs would draw her thence,
Which ever as she could with haste dispatch
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 suffered. My story being done,
She gave me for my pains a world of kisses.
She swore in faith ’twas strange, ‘twas passing strange,
’Twas pitiful, ’twas wondrous pitiful.
She wished she had not heard it, yet she wished
That heaven had made her such a man. She thanked
me,
And bade me, if I had a friend that loved her,
I should but teach him how to tell my story,
And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake.
She loved me for the dangers I had passed,
And I loved her that she did pity them.
This only is the witchcraft I have used.
Enter Desdemona, Iago, and attendants
Here comes the lady. Let her witness it.
DUKE
I think this tale would win my daughter, too.—
Good Brabanzio,
Take up this mangled matter at the best.
Men do their broken weapons rather use
Than their bare hands.
BRABANZIO
I pray you hear her speak.
If she confess that she was half the wooer,
Destruction on my head if my bad blame
Light on the man! Come hither, gentle mistress.
Do you perceive in all this noble company
Where most you owe obedience?
DESDEMONA
My noble father,
I do perceive here 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 showed
To you, preferring you before her father,
So much I challenge that I may profess
Due to the Moor my lord.
BRABANZIO
God b‘wi’you, I ha’ 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. (
To Desdemona
) 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 ’em. I have done, my lord.
DUKE
Let me speak like yourself, and lay a sentence
Which, as a grece or step, may help these lovers
Into your favour.
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 preserved when fortune takes,
Patience her injury a mockery makes.
The robbed that smiles steals something from the thief;
He robs himself that spends a bootless grief.