The Tragedie of Othello, the Moore of Venice by William Shakespeare

*** Scanner’s Notes: What this is and isn’t. This was taken from a copy of Shakespeare’s first folio and it is as close as I can come in ASCII to the printed text. The elongated S’s have been changed to small s’s and the conjoined ae have been changed to ae. I have left the
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Scanner’s Notes: What this is and isn’t. This was taken from a copy of Shakespeare’s first folio and it is as close as I can come in ASCII to the printed text.

The elongated S’s have been changed to small s’s and the conjoined ae have been changed to ae. I have left the spelling, punctuation, capitalization as close as possible to the printed text. I have corrected some spelling mistakes (I have put together a spelling dictionary devised from the spellings of the Geneva Bible and Shakespeare’s First Folio and have unified spellings according to this template), typo’s and expanded abbreviations as I have come across them. Everything within brackets [] is what I have added. So if you don’t like that you can delete everything within the brackets if you want a purer Shakespeare.

Another thing that you should be aware of is that there are textual differences between various copies of the first folio. So there may be differences (other than what I have mentioned above) between this and other first folio editions. This is due to the printer’s habit of setting the type and running off a number of copies and then proofing the printed copy and correcting the type and then continuing the printing run. The proof run wasn’t thrown away but incorporated into the printed copies. This is just the way it is. The text I have used was a composite of more than 30 different First Folio editions’ best pages.

If you find any scanning errors, out and out typos, punctuation errors, or if you disagree with my spelling choices please feel free to email me those errors. I wish to make this the best etext possible. My email address for right now are and I hope that you enjoy this.

David Reed

The Tragedie of Othello, the Moore of Venice

Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.

Enter Rodorigo, and Iago.

Rodorigo. Neuer tell me, I take it much vnkindly That thou (Iago) who hast had my purse,
As if y strings were thine, should’st know of this

Ia. But you’l not heare me. If euer I did dream Of such a matter, abhorre me

Rodo. Thou told’st me,
Thou did’st hold him in thy hate

Iago. Despise me
If I do not. Three Great-ones of the Cittie, (In personall suite to make me his Lieutenant) Off-capt to him: and by the faith of man I know my price, I am worth no worsse a place. But he (as louing his owne pride, and purposes) Euades them, with a bumbast Circumstance, Horribly stufft with Epithites of warre, Non-suites my Mediators. For certes, saies he, I haue already chose my Officer. And what was he? For-sooth, a great Arithmatician,
One Michaell Cassio, a Florentine,
(A Fellow almost damn’d in a faire Wife) That neuer set a Squadron in the Field,
Nor the deuision of a Battaile knowes More then a Spinster. Vnlesse the Bookish Theoricke: Wherein the Tongued Consuls can propose
As Masterly as he. Meere pratle (without practise) Is all his Souldiership. But he (Sir) had th’ election; And I (of whom his eies had seene the proofe At Rhodes, at Ciprus, and on others grounds Christen’d, and Heathen) must be be-leed, and calm’d By Debitor, and Creditor. This Counter-caster, He (in good time) must his Lieutenant be, And I (blesse the marke) his Mooreships Auntient

Rod. By heauen, I rather would haue bin his hangman

Iago. Why, there’s no remedie.
‘Tis the cursse of Seruice;
Preferment goes by Letter, and affection, And not by old gradation, where each second Stood Heire to’th’ first. Now Sir, be iudge your selfe, Whether I in any iust terme am Affin’d
To loue the Moore?
Rod. I would not follow him then

Iago. O Sir content you.
I follow him, to serue my turne vpon him. We cannot all be Masters, nor all Masters Cannot be truely follow’d. You shall marke Many a dutious and knee-crooking knaue;
That (doting on his owne obsequious bondage) Weares out his time, much like his Masters Asse, For naught but Prouender, & when he’s old Casheer’d. Whip me such honest knaues. Others there are Who trym’d in Formes, and visages of Dutie, Keepe yet their hearts attending on themselues, And throwing but showes of Seruice on their Lords Doe well thriue by them.
And when they haue lin’d their Coates Doe themselues Homage.
These Fellowes haue some soule,
And such a one do I professe my selfe. For (Sir) It is as sure as you are Rodorigo,
Were I the Moore, I would not be Iago: In following him, I follow but my selfe. Heauen is my Iudge, not I for loue and dutie, But seeming so, for my peculiar end:
For when my outward Action doth demonstrate The natiue act, and figure of my heart
In Complement externe, ’tis not long after But I will weare my heart vpon my sleeue For Dawes to pecke at; I am not what I am

Rod. What a fall Fortune do’s the Thicks-lips owe If he can carry’t thus?
Iago. Call vp her Father:
Rowse him, make after him, poyson his delight, Proclaime him in the Streets. Incense her kinsmen, And though he in a fertile Clymate dwell, Plague him with Flies: though that his Ioy be Ioy, Yet throw such chances of vexation on’t, As it may loose some colour

Rodo. Heere is her Fathers house, Ile call aloud

Iago. Doe, with like timerous accent, and dire yell, As when (by Night and Negligence) the Fire Is spied in populus Citties

Rodo. What hoa: Brabantio, Signior Brabantio, hoa

Iago. Awake: what hoa, Brabantio: Theeues, Theeues. Looke to your house, your daughter, and your Bags, Theeues, Theeues

Bra. Aboue. What is the reason of this terrible Summons? What is the matter there?
Rodo. Signior is all your Familie within? Iago. Are your Doores lock’d?
Bra. Why? Wherefore ask you this?
Iago. Sir, y’are rob’d, for shame put on your Gowne, Your heart is burst, you haue lost halfe your soule Euen now, now, very now, an old blacke Ram Is tupping your white Ewe. Arise, arise, Awake the snorting Cittizens with the Bell, Or else the deuill will make a Grand-sire of you. Arise I say

Bra. What, haue you lost your wits? Rod. Most reuerend Signior, do you know my voice? Bra. Not I: what are you?
Rod. My name is Rodorigo

Bra. The worsser welcome:
I haue charg’d thee not to haunt about my doores: In honest plainenesse thou hast heard me say, My Daughter is not for thee. And now in madnesse (Being full of Supper, and distempring draughtes) Vpon malitious knauerie, dost thou come
To start my quiet

Rod. Sir, Sir, Sir

Bra. But thou must needs be sure,
My spirits and my place haue in their power To make this bitter to thee

Rodo. Patience good Sir

Bra. What tell’st thou me of Robbing? This is Venice: my house is not a Grange

Rodo. Most graue Brabantio,
In simple and pure soule, I come to you

Ia. Sir: you are one of those that will not serue God, if the deuill bid you. Because we come to do you seruice, and you thinke we are Ruffians, you’le haue your Daughter couer’d with a Barbary horse, you’le haue your Nephewes neigh to you, you’le haue Coursers for Cozens: and Gennets for Germaines

Bra. What prophane wretch art thou? Ia. I am one Sir, that comes to tell you, your Daughter and the Moore, are making the Beast with two backs

Bra. Thou art a Villaine

Iago. You are a Senator

Bra. This thou shalt answere. I know thee Rodorigo

Rod. Sir, I will answere any thing. But I beseech you If’t be your pleasure, and most wise consent, (As partly I find it is) that your faire Daughter, At this odde Euen and dull watch o’th’ night Transported with no worse nor better guard, But with a knaue of common hire, a Gundelier, To the grosse claspes of a Lasciuious Moore: If this be knowne to you, and your Allowance, We then haue done you bold, and saucie wrongs. But if you know not this, my Manners tell me, We haue your wrong rebuke. Do not beleeue That from the sence of all Ciuilitie,
I thus would play and trifle with your Reuerence. Your Daughter (if you haue not giuen her leaue) I say againe, hath made a grosse reuolt, Tying her Dutie, Beautie, Wit, and Fortunes In an extrauagant, and wheeling Stranger, Of here, and euery where: straight satisfie your selfe. If she be in her Chamber, or your house, Let loose on me the Iustice of the State For thus deluding you

Bra. Strike on the Tinder, hoa:
Giue me a Taper: call vp all my people, This Accident is not vnlike my dreame,
Beleefe of it oppresses me alreadie. Light, I say, light.

Iag. Farewell: for I must leaue you. It seemes not meete, nor wholesome to my place To be producted, (as if I stay, I shall,) Against the Moore. For I do know the State, (How euer this may gall him with some checke) Cannot with safetie cast-him. For he’s embark’d With such loud reason to the Cyprus Warres, (Which euen now stands in Act) that for their soules Another of his Fadome, they haue none,
To lead their Businesse. In which regard, Though I do hate him as I do hell paines, Yet, for necessitie of present life,
I must show out a Flag, and signe of Loue, (Which is indeed but signe) that you shal surely find him Lead to the Sagitary the raised Search:
And there will I be with him. So farewell.


Enter Brabantio, with Seruants and Torches.

Bra. It is too true an euill. Gone she is, And what’s to come of my despised time,
Is naught but bitternesse. Now Rodorigo, Where didst thou see her? (Oh vnhappie Girle) With the Moore saist thou? (Who would be a Father?) How didst thou know ’twas she? (Oh she deceaues me Past thought:) what said she to you? Get moe Tapers. Raise all my Kindred. Are they married thinke you? Rodo. Truely I thinke they are

Bra. Oh Heauen: how got she out?
Oh treason of the blood.
Fathers, from hence trust not your Daughters minds By what you see them act. Is there not Charmes, By which the propertie of Youth, and Maidhood May be abus’d? Haue you not read Rodorigo, Of some such thing?
Rod. Yes Sir: I haue indeed

Bra. Call vp my Brother: oh would you had had her. Some one way, some another. Doe you know Where we may apprehend her, and the Moore? Rod. I thinke I can discouer him, if you please To get good Guard, and go along with me

Bra. Pray you lead on. At euery house Ile call, (I may command at most) get Weapons (hoa) And raise some speciall Officers of might: On good Rodorigo, I will deserue your paines.


Scena Secunda.

Enter Othello, Iago, Attendants, with Torches.

Ia. Though in the trade of Warre I haue slaine men, Yet do I hold it very stuffe o’th’ conscience To do no contriu’d Murder: I lacke Iniquitie Sometime to do me seruice. Nine, or ten times I had thought t’haue yerk’d him here vnder the Ribbes

Othello. ‘Tis better as it is

Iago. Nay but he prated,
And spoke such scuruy, and prouoking termes Against your Honor, that with the little godlinesse I haue I did full hard forbeare him. But I pray you Sir, Are you fast married? Be assur’d of this, That the Magnifico is much belou’d,
And hath in his effect a voice potentiall As double as the Dukes: He will diuorce you. Or put vpon you, what restraint or greeuance, The Law (with all his might, to enforce it on) Will giue him Cable

Othel. Let him do his spight;
My Seruices, which I haue done the Signorie 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 Royall Seige. And my demerites May speake (vnbonnetted) to as proud a Fortune As this that I haue reach’d. For know Iago, But that I loue the gentle Desdemona,
I would not my vnhoused free condition Put into Circumscription, and Confine,
For the Seas worth. But looke, what Lights come yond?

Enter Cassio, with Torches.

Iago. Those are the raised Father, and his Friends: You were best go in

Othel. Not I: I must be found.
My Parts, my Title, and my perfect Soule Shall manifest me rightly. Is it they?
Iago. By Ianus, I thinke no

Othel. The Seruants of the Dukes?
And my Lieutenant?
The goodnesse of the Night vpon you (Friends) What is the Newes?
Cassio. The Duke do’s greet you (Generall) And he requires your haste, Post-haste appearance, Euen on the instant

Othello. What is the matter, thinke you? Cassio. Something from Cyprus, as I may diuine: It is a businesse of some heate. The Gallies Haue sent a dozen sequent Messengers
This very night, at one anothers heeles: And many of the Consuls, rais’d and met, Are at the Dukes already. You haue bin hotly call’d for, When being not at your Lodging to be found, The Senate hath sent about three seuerall Quests, To search you out

Othel. ‘Tis well I am found by you: I will but spend a word here in the house, And goe with you

Cassio. Aunciant, what makes he heere? Iago. Faith, he to night hath boarded a Land Carract, If it proue lawfull prize, he’s made for euer

Cassio. I do not vnderstand

Iago. He’s married

Cassio. To who?
Iago. Marry to- Come Captaine, will you go? Othel. Haue with you

Cassio. Here comes another Troope to seeke for you.

Enter Brabantio, Rodorigo, with Officers, and Torches.

Iago. It is Brabantio: Generall be aduis’d, He comes to bad intent

Othello. Holla, stand there

Rodo. Signior, it is the Moore

Bra. Downe with him, Theefe

Iago. You, Rodorigo? Come Sir, I am for you

Othe. Keepe vp your bright Swords, for the dew will rust them. Good Signior, you shall more command with yeares, then with your Weapons

Bra. Oh thou foule Theefe,
Where hast thou stow’d my Daughter? Damn’d as thou art, thou hast enchaunted her For Ile referre me to all things of sense, (If she in Chaines of Magick were not bound) Whether a Maid, so tender, Faire, and Happie, So opposite to Marriage, that she shun’d The wealthy curled Deareling of our Nation, Would euer haue (t’ encurre a generall mocke) Run from her Guardage to the sootie bosome, Of such a thing as thou: to feare, not to delight? Iudge me the world, if ’tis not grosse in sense, That thou hast practis’d on her with foule Charmes, Abus’d her delicate Youth, with Drugs or Minerals, That weakens Motion. Ile haue’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 vpon him, if he do resist
Subdue him, at his perill

Othe. Hold your hands
Both you of my inclining, and the rest. Were it my Cue to fight, I should haue knowne it Without a Prompter. Whether will you that I goe To answere this your charge?
Bra. To Prison, till fit time
Of Law, and course of direct Session Call thee to answer

Othe. What if I do obey?
How may the Duke be therewith satisfi’d, Whose Messengers are heere about my side, Vpon some present businesse of the State, To bring me to him

Officer. ‘Tis true most worthy Signior, The Dukes in Counsell, and your Noble selfe, I am sure is sent for

Bra. How? The Duke in Counsell?
In this time of the night? Bring him away; Mine’s not an idle Cause. The Duke himselfe, Or any of my Brothers of the State,
Cannot but feele this wrong, as ’twere their owne: For if such Actions may haue passage free, Bond-slaues, and Pagans shall our Statesmen be.


Scaena Tertia.

Enter Duke, Senators, and Officers.

Duke. There’s no composition in this Newes, That giues them Credite

1.Sen. Indeed, they are disproportioned; My Letters say, a Hundred and seuen Gallies

Duke. And mine a Hundred fortie

2.Sena. And mine two Hundred:
But though they iumpe not on a iust accompt, (As in these Cases where the ayme reports, ‘Tis oft with difference) yet do they all confirme A Turkish Fleete, and bearing vp to Cyprus

Duke. Nay, it is possible enough to iudgement: I do not so secure me in the Error,
But the maine Article I do approue
In fearefull sense

Saylor within. What hoa, what hoa, what hoa.

Enter Saylor.

Officer. A Messenger from the Gallies

Duke. Now? What’s the businesse?
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 keepe vs in false gaze, when we consider Th’ importancie of Cyprus to the Turke;
And let our selues againe but vnderstand, That as it more concernes the Turke then Rhodes, So may he with more facile question beare it, For that it stands not in such Warrelike brace, But altogether lackes th’ abilities
That Rhodes is dress’d in. If we make thought of this, We must not thinke the Turke is so vnskillfull, To leaue that latest, which concernes him first, Neglecting an attempt of ease, and gaine To wake, and wage a danger profitlesse

Duke. Nay, in all confidence he’s not for Rhodes

Officer. Here is more Newes.

Enter a Messenger.

Messen. The Ottamites, Reueren’d, and Gracious, Steering with due course toward the Ile of Rhodes, Haue there inioynted them with an after Fleete

1.Sen. I, so I thought: how many, as you guesse? Mess. Of thirtie Saile: and now they do re-stem Their backward course, bearing with frank appearance Their purposes toward Cyprus. Signior Montano, Your trustie and most Valiant Seruitour, With his free dutie, recommends you thus, And prayes you to beleeue him

Duke. ‘Tis certaine then for Cyprus: Marcus Luccicos is not he in Towne?
1.Sen. He’s now in Florence

Duke. Write from vs,
To him, Post, Post-haste, dispatch

1.Sen. Here comes Brabantio, and the Valiant Moore.

Enter Brabantio, Othello, Cassio, Iago, Rodorigo, and Officers.

Duke. Valiant Othello, we must straight employ you, Against the generall Enemy Ottoman.
I did not see you: welcome gentle Signior, We lack’t your Counsaile, and your helpe to night

Bra. So did I yours: Good your Grace pardon me. Neither my place, nor ought I heard of businesse Hath rais’d me from my bed; nor doth the generall care Take hold on me. For my perticular griefe Is of so flood-gate, and ore-bearing Nature, That it engluts, and swallowes other sorrowes, And it is still it selfe

Duke. Why? What’s the matter?
Bra. My Daughter: oh my Daughter!
Sen. Dead?
Bra. I, to me.
She is abus’d, stolne from me, and corrupted By Spels, and Medicines, bought of Mountebanks; For Nature, so prepostrously to erre,
(Being not deficient, blind, or lame of sense,) Sans witch-craft could not

Duke. Who ere he be, that in this foule proceeding Hath thus beguil’d your Daughter of her selfe, And you of her; the bloodie Booke of Law, You shall your selfe read, in the bitter letter, After your owne sense: yea, though our proper Son Stood in your Action

Bra. Humbly I thanke your Grace,
Here is the man; this Moore, whom now it seemes Your speciall Mandate, for the State affaires Hath hither brought

All. We are verie sorry for’t

Duke. What in your owne part, can you say to this? Bra. Nothing, but this is so

Othe. Most Potent, Graue, and Reueren’d Signiors, My very Noble, and approu’d good Masters; That I haue tane away this old mans Daughter, It is most true: true I haue married her; The verie head, and front of my offending, Hath this extent; no more. Rude am I, in my speech, And little bless’d with the soft phrase of Peace; For since these Armes of mine, had seuen yeares pith, Till now, some nine Moones wasted, they haue vs’d Their deerest action, in the Tented Field: And little of this great world can I speake, More then pertaines to Feats of Broiles, and Battaile, And therefore little shall I grace my cause, In speaking for my selfe. Yet, (by your gratious patience) I will a round vn-varnish’d Tale deliuer, Of my whole course of Loue.
What Drugges, what Charmes,
What Coniuration, and what mighty Magicke, (For such proceeding I am charg’d withall) I won his Daughter

Bra. A Maiden, neuer bold:
Of Spirit so still, and quiet, that her Motion Blush’d at her selfe, and she, in spight of Nature, Of Yeares, of Country, Credite, euery thing To fall in Loue, with what she fear’d to looke on; It is a iudgement main’d, and most imperfect. That will confesse Perfection so could erre Against all rules of Nature, and must be driuen To find out practises of cunning hell
Why this should be. I therefore vouch againe, That with some Mixtures, powrefull o’re the blood, Or with some Dram, (coniur’d to this effect) He wrought vpon her.
To vouch this, is no proofe,
Without more wider, and more ouer Test Then these thin habits, and poore likely-hoods Of moderne seeming, do prefer against him

Sen. But Othello, speake,
Did you, by indirect, and forced courses Subdue, and poyson this yong Maides affections? Or came it by request, and such faire question As soule, to soule affordeth?
Othel. I do beseech you,
Send for the Lady to the Sagitary,
And let her speake of me before her Father; If you do finde me foule, in her report, The Trust, the Office, I do hold of you, Not onely take away, but let your Sentence Euen fall vpon my life

Duke. Fetch Desdemona hither

Othe. Aunciant, conduct them:
You best know the place.
And tell she come, as truely as to heauen, I do confesse the vices of my blood,
So iustly to your Graue eares, Ile present How I did thriue in this faire Ladies loue, And she in mine

Duke. Say it Othello

Othe. Her Father lou’d me, oft inuited me: Still question’d me the Storie of my life, From yeare to yeare: the Battaile, Sieges, Fortune, That I haue past.
I ran it through, euen from my boyish daies, Toth’ very moment that he bad me tell it. Wherein I spoke of most disastrous chances: Of mouing Accidents by Flood and Field,
Of haire-breadth scapes i’th’ imminent deadly breach; Of being taken by the Insolent Foe,
And sold to slauery. Of my redemption thence, And portance in my Trauellours historie. Wherein of Antars vast, and Desarts idle, Rough Quarries, Rocks, Hills, whose head touch heauen, It was my hint to speake. Such was my Processe, And of the Canibals that each others eate, The Antropophague, and men whose heads
Grew beneath their shoulders. These things to heare, Would Desdemona seriously incline:
But still the house Affaires would draw her hence: Which euer as she could with haste dispatch, She’l’d come againe, and with a greedie eare Deuoure vp my discourse. Which I obseruing, Tooke once a pliant houre, and found good meanes 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 instinctiuely: I did consent,
And often did beguile her of her teares, When I did speake of some distressefull stroke That my youth suffer’d: My Storie being done, She gaue me for my paines a world of kisses: She swore in faith ’twas strange: ’twas passing strange, ‘Twas pittifull: ’twas wondrous pittifull. She wish’d she had not heard it, yet she wish’d That Heauen had made her such a man. She thank’d me, And bad me, if I had a Friend that lou’d her, I should but teach him how to tell my Story, And that would wooe her. Vpon this hint I spake, She lou’d me for the dangers I had past, And I lou’d her, that she did pitty them. This onely is the witch-craft I haue vs’d. Here comes the Ladie: Let her witnesse it.

Enter Desdemona, Iago, Attendants.

Duke. I thinke this tale would win my Daughter too, Good Brabantio, take vp this mangled matter at the best: Men do their broken Weapons rather vse,
Then their bare hands

Bra. I pray you heare her speake?
If she confesse that she was halfe the wooer, Destruction on my head, if my bad blame
Light on the man. Come hither gentle Mistris, Do you perceiue in all this Noble Companie, Where most you owe obedience?
Des. My Noble Father,
I do perceiue heere a diuided dutie. To you I am bound for life, and education: My life and education both do learne me, How to respect you. You are the Lord of duty, I am hitherto your Daughter. But heere’s my Husband; And so much dutie, as my Mother shew’d
To you, preferring you before her Father: So much I challenge, that I may professe Due to the Moore my Lord

Bra. God be with you: I haue done.
Please it your Grace, on to the State Affaires; I had rather to adopt a Child, then get it. Come hither Moore;
I here do giue thee that with all my heart, Which but thou hast already, with all my heart I would keepe from thee. For your sake (Iewell) I am glad at soule, I haue no other Child, For thy escape would teach me Tirranie
To hang clogges on them. I haue done my Lord

Duke. Let me speake like your selfe: And lay a Sentence,
Which as a grise, or step may helpe these Louers. When remedies are past, the griefes are ended By seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended. To mourne a Mischeefe that is past and gon, Is the next way to draw new mischiefe on. What cannot be preseru’d, when Fortune takes: Patience, her Iniury a mock’ry makes.
The rob’d that smiles, steales something from the Thiefe, He robs himselfe, that spends a bootelesse griefe

Bra. So let the Turke of Cyprus vs beguile, We loose it not so long as we can smile: He beares the Sentence well, that nothing beares, But the free comfort which from thence he heares. But he beares both the Sentence, and the sorrow, That to pay griefe, must of poore Patience borrow. These Sentences, to Sugar, or to Gall,
Being strong on both sides, are Equiuocall. But words are words, I neuer yet did heare: That the bruized heart was pierc’d through the eares. I humbly beseech you proceed to th’ Affaires of State

Duke. The Turke with a most mighty Preparation makes for Cyprus: Othello, the Fortitude of the place is best knowne to you. And though we haue there a Substitute of most allowed sufficiencie; yet opinion, a more soueraigne Mistris of Effects, throwes a more safer voice on you: you must therefore be content to slubber the glosse of your new Fortunes, with this more stubborne, and boystrous expedition

Othe. The Tirant Custome, most Graue Senators, Hath made the flinty and Steele Coach of Warre My thrice-driuen bed of Downe. I do agnize A Naturall and prompt Alacratie,
I finde in hardnesse: and do vndertake This present Warres against the Ottamites. Most humbly therefore bending to your State, I craue fit disposition for my Wife,
Due reference of Place, and Exhibition, With such Accomodation and besort
As leuels with her breeding

Duke. Why at her Fathers?
Bra. I will not haue it so

Othe. Nor I

Des. Nor would I there recide,
To put my Father in impatient thoughts By being in his eye. Most Gracious Duke, To my vnfolding, lend your prosperous eare, And let me finde a Charter in your voice T’ assist my simplenesse

Duke. What would you Desdemona?
Des. That I loue the Moore, to liue with him, My downe-right violence, and storme of Fortunes, May trumpet to the world. My heart’s subdu’d Euen to the very quality of my Lord;
I saw Othello’s visage in his mind, And to his Honours and his valiant parts, Did I my soule and Fortunes consecrate.
So that (deere Lords) if I be left behind A Moth of Peace, and he go to the Warre, The Rites for why I loue him, are bereft me: And I a heauie interim shall support
By his deere absence. Let me go with him

Othe. Let her haue your voice.
Vouch with me Heauen, I therefore beg it not To please the pallate of my Appetite:
Nor to comply with heat the yong affects In my defunct, and proper satisfaction.
But to be free, and bounteous to her minde: And Heauen defend your good soules, that you thinke I will your serious and great businesse scant When she is with me. No, when light wing’d Toyes Of feather’d Cupid, seele with wanton dulnesse My speculatiue, and offic’d Instrument:
That my Disports corrupt, and taint my businesse: Let House-wiues make a Skillet of my Helme, And all indigne, and base aduersities,
Make head against my Estimation

Duke. Be it as you shall priuately determine, Either for her stay, or going: th’ Affaire cries hast: And speed must answer it

Sen. You must away to night

Othe. With all my heart

Duke. At nine i’th’ morning, here wee’l meete againe. Othello, leaue some Officer behind
And he shall our Commission bring to you: And such things else of qualitie and respect As doth import you

Othe. So please your Grace, my Ancient, A man he is of honesty and trust:
To his conueyance I assigne my wife, With what else needfull, your good Grace shall think To be sent after me

Duke. Let it be so:
Good night to euery one. And Noble Signior, If Vertue no delighted Beautie lacke,
Your Son-in-law is farre more Faire then Blacke

Sen. Adieu braue Moore, vse Desdemona well

Bra. Looke to her (Moore) if thou hast eies to see: She ha’s deceiu’d her Father, and may thee. Enter.

Othe. My life vpon her faith. Honest Iago, My Desdemona must I leaue to thee:
I prythee let thy wife attend on her, And bring them after in the best aduantage. Come Desdemona, I haue but an houre
Of Loue, of wordly matter, and direction To spend with thee. We must obey the time. Enter.

Rod. Iago

Iago. What saist thou Noble heart?
Rod. What will I do, think’st thou? Iago. Why go to bed and sleepe

Rod. I will incontinently drowne my selfe

Iago. If thou do’st, I shall neuer loue thee after. Why thou silly Gentleman?
Rod. It is sillynesse to liue, when to liue is torment: and then haue we a prescription to dye, when death is our Physition

Iago. Oh villanous: I haue look’d vpon the world for foure times seuen yeares, and since I could distinguish betwixt a Benefit, and an Iniurie: I neuer found man that knew how to loue himselfe. Ere I would say, I would drowne my selfe for the loue of a Gynney Hen, I would change my Humanity with a Baboone

Rod. What should I do? I confesse it is my shame to be so fond, but it is not in my vertue to amend it

Iago. Vertue? A figge, ’tis in our selues that we are thus, or thus. Our Bodies are our Gardens, to the which, our Wills are Gardiners. So that if we will plant Nettels, or sowe Lettice: Set Hisope, and weede vp Time: Supplie it with one gender of Hearbes, or distract it with many: either to haue it sterrill with idlenesse, or manured with Industry, why the power, and Corrigeable authoritie of this lies in our Wills. If the braine of our liues had not one Scale of Reason, to poize another of Sensualitie, the blood, and basenesse of our Natures would conduct vs to most prepostrous Conclusions. But we haue Reason to coole our raging Motions, our carnall Stings, or vnbitted Lusts: whereof I take this, that you call Loue, to be a Sect, or Seyen

Rod. It cannot be

Iago. It is meerly a Lust of the blood, and a permission of the will. Come, be a man: drowne thy selfe? Drown Cats, and blind Puppies. I haue profest me thy Friend, and I confesse me knit to thy deseruing, with Cables of perdurable toughnesse. I could neuer better steed thee then now. Put Money in thy purse: follow thou the Warres, defeate thy fauour, with an vsurp’d Beard. I say put Money in thy purse. It cannot be long that Desdemona should continue her loue to the Moore. Put Money in thy purse: nor he his to her. It was a violent Commencement in her, and thou shalt see an answerable Sequestration, put but Money in thy purse. These Moores are changeable in their wils: fill thy purse with Money. The Food that to him now is as lushious as Locusts, shalbe to him shortly, as bitter as Coloquintida. She must change for youth: when she is sated with his body she will find the errors of her choice. Therefore, put Money in thy purse. If thou wilt needs damne thy selfe, do it a more delicate way then drowning. Make all the Money thou canst: If Sanctimonie, and a fraile vow, betwixt an erring Barbarian, and super-subtle Venetian be not too hard for my wits, and all the Tribe of hell, thou shalt enioy her: therefore make Money: a pox of drowning thy selfe, it is cleane out of the way. Seeke thou rather to be hang’d in Compassing thy ioy, then to be drown’d, and go without her

Rodo. Wilt thou be fast to my hopes, if I depend on the issue?
Iago. Thou art sure of me: Go make Money: I haue told thee often, and I re-tell thee againe, and againe, I hate the Moore. My cause is hearted; thine hath no lesse reason. Let vs be coniunctiue in our reuenge, against him. If thou canst Cuckold him, thou dost thy selfe a pleasure, me a sport. There are many Euents in the Wombe of Time, which wilbe deliuered. Trauerse, go, prouide thy Money. We will haue more of this to morrow. Adieu

Rod. Where shall we meete i’th’ morning? Iago. At my Lodging

Rod. Ile be with thee betimes

Iago. Go too, farewell. Do you heare Rodorigo? Rod. Ile sell all my Land.

Iago. Thus do I euer make my Foole, my purse: For I mine owne gain’d knowledge should prophane If I would time expend with such Snipe,
But for my Sport, and Profit: I hate the Moore, And it is thought abroad, that ‘twixt my sheets She ha’s done my Office. I know not if’t be true, But I, for meere suspition in that kinde, Will do, as if for Surety. He holds me well, The better shall my purpose worke on him: Cassio’s a proper man: Let me see now,
To get his Place, and to plume vp my will In double Knauery. How? How? Let’s see.
After some time, to abuse Othello’s eares, That he is too familiar with his wife:
He hath a person, and a smooth dispose To be suspected: fram’d to make women false. The Moore is of a free, and open Nature, That thinkes men honest, that but seeme to be so, And will as tenderly be lead by’th’ Nose As Asses are:
I hau’t: it is engendred: Hell, and Night, Must bring this monstrous Birth, to the worlds light.

Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.

Enter Montano, and two Gentlemen.

Mon. What from the Cape, can you discerne at Sea? 1.Gent. Nothing at all, it is a high wrought Flood: I cannot ‘twixt the Heauen, and the Maine, Descry a Saile

Mon. Me thinks, the wind hath spoke aloud at Land, A fuller blast ne’re shooke our Battlements: If it hath ruffiand so vpon the Sea,
What ribbes of Oake, when Mountaines melt on them, Can hold the Morties. What shall we heare of this? 2 A Segregation of the Turkish Fleet:
For do but stand vpon the Foaming Shore, The chidden Billow seemes to pelt the Clowds, The winde-shak’d-Surge, with high & monstrous Maine Seemes to cast water on the burning Beare, And quench the Guards of th’ euer-fixed Pole: I neuer did like mollestation view
On the enchafed Flood

Men. If that the Turkish Fleete
Be not enshelter’d, and embay’d, they are drown’d, It is impossible to beare it out.
Enter a Gentleman.

3 Newes Laddes: our warres are done: The desperate Tempest hath so bang’d the Turkes, That their designement halts. A Noble ship of Venice, Hath seene a greeuous wracke and sufferance On most part of their Fleet

Mon. How? Is this true?
3 The Ship is heere put in: A Verennessa, Michael Cassio Lieutenant to the warlike Moore, Othello, Is come on Shore: the Moore himselfe at Sea, And is in full Commission heere for Cyprus

Mon. I am glad on’t:
‘Tis a worthy Gouernour

3 But this same Cassio, though he speake of comfort, Touching the Turkish losse, yet he lookes sadly, And praye the Moore be safe; for they were parted With fowle and violent Tempest

Mon. Pray Heauens he be:
For I haue seru’d him, and the man commands Like a full Soldier. Let’s to the Sea-side (hoa) As well to see the Vessell that’s come in, As to throw-out our eyes for braue Othello, Euen till we make the Maine, and th’ Eriall blew, An indistinct regard

Gent. Come, let’s do so;
For euery Minute is expectancie
Of more Arriuancie.
Enter Cassio.

Cassi. Thankes you, the valiant of the warlike Isle, That so approoue the Moore: Oh let the Heauens Giue him defence against the Elements,
For I haue lost him on a dangerous Sea

Mon. Is he well ship’d?
Cassio. His Barke is stoutly Timber’d, and his Pylot Of verie expert, and approu’d Allowance; Therefore my hope’s (not surfetted to death) Stand in bold Cure

Within. A Saile, a Saile, a Saile

Cassio. What noise?
Gent. The Towne is empty; on the brow o’th’ Sea Stand rankes of People and they cry, a Saile

Cassio. My hopes do shape him for the Gouernor

Gent. They do discharge their Shot of Courtesie, Our Friends, at least

Cassio. I pray you Sir, go forth,
And giue vs truth who ’tis that is arriu’d

Gent. I shall.

Mon. But good Lieutenant, is your Generall wiu’d? Cassio. Most fortunately: he hath atchieu’d a Maid That paragons description, and wilde Fame: One that excels the quirkes of Blazoning pens, And in th’ essentiall Vesture of Creation, Do’s tyre the Ingeniuer.
Enter Gentleman.

How now? Who ha’s put in?
Gent. ‘Tis one Iago, Auncient to the Generall

Cassio. Ha’s had most fauourable, and happie speed: Tempests themselues, high Seas, and howling windes, The gutter’d-Rockes, and Congregated Sands, Traitors ensteep’d, to enclogge the guiltlesse Keele, As hauing sence of Beautie, do omit
Their mortall Natures, letting go safely by The Diuine Desdemona

Mon. What is she?
Cassio. She that I spake of:
Our great Captains Captaine,
Left in the conduct of the bold Iago, Whose footing heere anticipates our thoughts, A Senights speed. Great Ioue, Othello guard, And swell his Saile with thine owne powrefull breath, That he may blesse this Bay with his tall Ship, Make loues quicke pants in Desdemonaes Armes, Giue renew’d fire to our extincted Spirits.

Enter Desdemona, Iago, Rodorigo, and Aemilia.

Oh behold,
The Riches of the Ship is come on shore: You men of Cyprus, let her haue your knees. Haile to thee Ladie: and the grace of Heauen, Before, behinde thee, and on euery hand
Enwheele thee round

Des. I thanke you, Valiant Cassio,
What tydings can you tell of my Lord? Cas. He is not yet arriu’d, nor know I ought But that he’s well, and will be shortly heere

Des. Oh, but I feare:
How lost you company?
Cassio. The great Contention of Sea, and Skies Parted our fellowship. But hearke, a Saile

Within. A Saile, a Saile

Gent. They giue this greeting to the Cittadell: This likewise is a Friend

Cassio. See for the Newes:
Good Ancient, you are welcome. Welcome Mistris: Let it not gaule your patience (good Iago) That I extend my Manners. ‘Tis my breeding, That giues me this bold shew of Curtesie

Iago. Sir, would she giue you so much of her lippes, As of her tongue she oft bestowes on me, You would haue enough

Des. Alas: she ha’s no speech

Iago. Infaith too much:
I finde it still, when I haue leaue to sleepe. Marry before your Ladyship, I grant,
She puts her tongue a little in her heart, And chides with thinking

aemil. You haue little cause to say so

Iago. Come on, come on: you are Pictures out of doore: Bells in your Parlours: Wilde-Cats in your Kitchens: Saints in your Iniuries: Diuels being offended: Players in your Huswiferie, and Huswiues in your Beds

Des. Oh, fie vpon thee, Slanderer

Iago. Nay, it is true: or else I am a Turke, You rise to play, and go to bed to worke. Aemil. You shall not write my praise

Iago. No, let me not

Desde. What would’st write of me, if thou should’st praise me?
Iago. Oh, gentle Lady, do not put me too’t, For I am nothing, if not Criticall

Des. Come on, assay.
There’s one gone to the Harbour?
Iago. I Madam

Des. I am not merry: but I do beguile The thing I am, by seeming otherwise.
Come, how would’st thou praise me?
Iago. I am about it, but indeed my inuention comes from my pate, as Birdlyme do’s from Freeze, it pluckes out Braines and all. But my Muse labours, and thus she is deliuer’d.
If she be faire, and wise: fairenesse, and wit, The ones for vse, the other vseth it

Des. Well prais’d:
How if she be Blacke and Witty?
Iago. If she be blacke, and thereto haue a wit, She’le find a white, that shall her blacknesse fit

Des. Worse, and worse.
Aemil. How if Faire, and Foolish?
Iago. She neuer yet was foolish that was faire, For euen her folly helpt her to an heire

Desde. These are old fond Paradoxes, to make Fooles laugh i’th’ Alehouse. What miserable praise hast thou for her that’s Foule, and Foolish

Iago. There’s none so foule and foolish thereunto, But do’s foule pranks, which faire, and wise-ones do

Desde. Oh heauy ignorance: thou praisest the worst best. But what praise could’st thou bestow on a deseruing woman indeed? One, that in the authorithy of her merit, did iustly put on the vouch of very malice it selfe

Iago. She that was euer faire, and neuer proud, Had Tongue at will, and yet was neuer loud: Neuer lackt Gold, and yet went neuer gay, Fled from her wish, and yet said now I may. She that being angred, her reuenge being nie, Bad her wrong stay, and her displeasure flie: She that in wisedome neuer was so fraile, To change the Cods-head for the Salmons taile: She that could thinke, and neu’r disclose her mind, See Suitors following, and not looke behind: She was a wight, (if euer such wightes were) Des. To do what?
Iago. To suckle Fooles, and chronicle small Beere

Desde. Oh most lame and impotent conclusion. Do not learne of him aemillia, though he be thy husband. How say you (Cassio) is he not a most prophane, and liberall Counsailor?
Cassio. He speakes home (Madam) you may rellish him more in the Souldier, then in the Scholler

Iago. He takes her by the palme: I, well said, whisper. With as little a web as this, will I ensnare as great a Fly as Cassio. I smile vpon her, do: I will giue thee in thine owne Courtship. You say true, ’tis so indeed. If such tricks as these strip you out of your Lieutenantrie, it had beene better you had not kiss’d your three fingers so oft, which now againe you are most apt to play the Sir, in. Very good: well kiss’d, and excellent Curtsie: ’tis so indeed. Yet againe, your fingers to your lippes? Would they were Cluster-pipes for your sake.
The Moore I know his Trumpet

Cassio. ‘Tis truely so

Des. Let’s meete him, and recieue him

Cassio. Loe, where he comes.
Enter Othello, and Attendants.

Oth. O, my faire Warriour

Des. My deere Othello

Othe. It giues me wonder great, as my content To see you heere before me.
Oh my Soules Ioy:
If after euery Tempest, come such Calmes, May the windes blow, till they haue waken’d death: And let the labouring Barke climbe hills of Seas Olympus high: and duck againe as low,
As hell’s from Heauen. If it were now to dye, ‘Twere now to be most happy. For I feare, My Soule hath her content so absolute,
That not another comfort like to this, Succeedes in vnknowne Fate

Des. The Heauens forbid
But that our Loues
And Comforts should encrease
Euen as our dayes do grow

Othe. Amen to that (sweet Powers)
I cannot speake enough of this content, It stoppes me heere: it is too much of ioy. And this, and this the greatest discords be That ere our hearts shall make

Iago. Oh you are well tun’d now: But Ile set downe the peggs that make this Musicke, as honest as I am

Othe. Come: let vs to the Castle.
Newes (Friends) our Warres are done: The Turkes are drown’d.
How do’s my old Acquaintance of this Isle? (Hony) you shall be well desir’d in Cyprus, I haue found great loue among’st them. Oh my Sweet, I prattle out of fashion, and I doate
In mine owne comforts. I prythee, good Iago, Go to the Bay, and disimbarke my Coffers: Bring thou the Master to the Cittadell,
He is a good one, and his worthynesse Do’s challenge much respect. Come Desdemona, Once more well met at Cyprus.

Exit Othello and Desdemona.

Iago. Do thou meet me presently at the Harbour. Come thither, if thou be’st Valiant, (as they say base men being in Loue, haue then a Nobilitie in their Natures, more then is natiue to them) list-me; the Lieutenant to night watches on the Court of Guard. First, I must tell thee this: Desdemona, is directly in loue with him

Rod. With him? Why, ’tis not possible

Iago. Lay thy finger thus: and let thy soule be instructed. Marke me with what violence she first lou’d the Moore, but for bragging, and telling her fantasticall lies. To loue him still for prating, let not thy discreet heart thinke it. Her eye must be fed. And what delight shall she haue to looke on the diuell? When the Blood is made dull with the Act of Sport, there should be a game to enflame it, and to giue Satiety a fresh appetite. Louelinesse in fauour, simpathy in yeares, Manners, and Beauties: all which the Moore is defectiue in. Now for want of these requir’d Conueniences, her delicate tendernesse wil finde it selfe abus’d, begin to heaue the, gorge, disrellish and abhorre the Moore, very Nature wil instruct her in it, and compell her to some second choice. Now Sir, this granted (as it is a most pregnant and vnforc’d position) who stands so eminent in the degree of this Fortune, as Cassio do’s: a knaue very voluble: no further conscionable, then in putting on the meere forme of Ciuill, and Humaine seeming, for the better compasse of his salt, and most hidden loose Affection? Why none, why none: A slipper, and subtle knaue, a finder of occasion: that he’s an eye can stampe, and counterfeit Aduantages, though true Aduantage neuer present it selfe. A diuelish knaue: besides, the knaue is handsome, young: and hath all those requisites in him, that folly and greene mindes looke after. A pestilent compleat knaue, and the woman hath found him already

Rodo. I cannot beleeue that in her, she’s full of most bless’d condition

Iago. Bless’d figges-end. The Wine she drinkes is made of grapes. If shee had beene bless’d, shee would neuer haue lou’d the Moore: Bless’d pudding. Didst thou not see her paddle with the palme of his hand? Didst not marke that?
Rod. Yes, that I did: but that was but curtesie

Iago . Leacherie by this hand: an Index, and obscure prologue to the History of Lust and foule Thoughts. They met so neere with their lippes, that their breathes embrac’d together. Villanous thoughts Rodorigo, when these mutabilities so marshall the way, hard at hand comes the Master, and maine exercise, th’ incorporate conclusion: Pish. But Sir, be you rul’d by me. I haue brought you from Venice. Watch you to night: for the Command, Ile lay’t vpon you. Cassio knowes you not: Ile not be farre from you. Do you finde some occasion to anger Cassio, either by speaking too loud, or tainting his discipline, or from what other course you please, which the time shall more fauorably minister

Rod. Well

Iago. Sir, he’s rash, and very sodaine in Choller: and happely may strike at you, prouoke him that he may: for euen out of that will I cause these of Cyprus to Mutiny. Whose qualification shall come into no true taste againe, but by the displanting of Cassio. So shall you haue a shorter iourney to your desires, by the meanes I shall then haue to preferre them. And the impediment most profitably remoued, without the which there were no expectation of our prosperitie

Rodo. I will do this, if you can bring it to any opportunity

Iago. I warrant thee. Meete me by and by at the Cittadell. I must fetch his Necessaries a Shore. Farewell

Rodo. Adieu.

Iago. That Cassio loues her, I do well beleeu’t: That she loues him, ’tis apt, and of great Credite. The Moore (howbeit that I endure him not) Is of a constant, louing, Noble Nature,
And I dare thinke, he’le proue to Desdemona A most deere husband. Now I do loue her too, Not out of absolute Lust, (though peraduenture I stand accomptant for as great a sin)
But partely led to dyet my Reuenge, For that I do suspect the lustie Moore
Hath leap’d into my Seate. The thought whereof, Doth (like a poysonous Minerall) gnaw my Inwardes: And nothing can, or shall content my Soule Till I am eeuen’d with him, wife, for wife. Or fayling so, yet that I put the Moore, At least into a Ielouzie so strong
That iudgement cannot cure. Which thing to do, If this poore Trash of Venice, whom I trace For his quicke hunting, stand the putting on, Ile haue our Michael Cassio on the hip,
Abuse him to the Moore, in the right garbe (For I feare Cassio with my Night-Cape too) Make the Moore thanke me, loue me, and reward me, For making him egregiously an Asse,
And practising vpon his peace, and quiet, Euen to madnesse. ‘Tis heere: but yet confus’d, Knaueries plaine face, is neuer seene, till vs’d. Enter.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Othello’s Herald with a Proclamation.

Herald. It is Othello’s pleasure, our Noble and Valiant Generall. That vpon certaine tydings now arriu’d, importing the meere perdition of the Turkish Fleete: euery man put himselfe into Triumph. Some to daunce, some to make Bonfires, each man, to what Sport and Reuels his addition leads him. For besides these beneficiall Newes, it is the Celebration of his Nuptiall. So much was his pleasure should be proclaimed. All offices are open, & there is full libertie of Feasting from this present houre of fiue, till the Bell haue told eleuen. Blesse the Isle of Cyprus, and our Noble Generall Othello. Enter.

Enter Othello, Desdemona, Cassio, and Attendants.

Othe. Good Michael, looke you to the guard to night. Let’s teach our selues that Honourable stop, Not to out-sport discretion

Cas. Iago, hath direction what to do. But notwithstanding with my personall eye Will I looke to’t

Othe. Iago, is most honest:
Michael, goodnight. To morrow with your earliest, Let me haue speech with you. Come my deere Loue, The purchase made, the fruites are to ensue, That profit’s yet to come ‘tweene me, and you. Goodnight.

Enter Iago.

Cas. Welcome Iago: we must to the Watch

Iago. Not this houre Lieutenant: ’tis not yet ten o’th’ clocke. Our Generall cast vs thus earely for the loue of his Desdemona: Who, let vs not therefore blame; he hath not yet made wanton the night with her: and she is sport for Ioue

Cas. She’s a most exquisite Lady

Iago. And Ile warrant her, full of Game

Cas. Indeed shes a most fresh and delicate creature

Iago. What an eye she ha’s?
Me thinkes it sounds a parley to prouocation

Cas. An inuiting eye:
And yet me thinkes right modest

Iago. And when she speakes,
Is it not an Alarum to Loue?
Cas. She is indeed perfection

Iago. Well: happinesse to their Sheetes. Come Lieutenant, I haue a stope of Wine, and heere without are a brace of Cyprus Gallants, that would faine haue a measure to the health of blacke Othello

Cas. Not to night, good Iago, I haue very poore, and vnhappie Braines for drinking. I could well wish Curtesie would inuent some other Custome of entertainment

Iago. Oh, they are our Friends: but one Cup, Ile drinke for you

Cassio. I haue drunke but one Cup to night, and that was craftily qualified too: and behold what inouation it makes heere. I am infortunate in the infirmity, and dare not taske my weakenesse with any more

Iago. What man? ‘Tis a night of Reuels, the Gallants desire it

Cas. Where are they?
Iago. Heere, at the doore: I pray you call them in

Cas. Ile do’t, but it dislikes me.

Iago. If I can fasten but one Cup vpon him With that which he hath drunke to night alreadie, He’l be as full of Quarrell, and offence As my yong Mistris dogge.
Now my sicke Foole Rodorigo,
Whom Loue hath turn’d almost the wrong side out, To Desdemona hath to night Carrows’d.
Potations, pottle-deepe; and he’s to watch. Three else of Cyprus, Noble swelling Spirites, (That hold their Honours in a wary distance, The very Elements of this Warrelike Isle) Haue I to night fluster’d with flowing Cups, And they Watch too.
Now ‘mongst this Flocke of drunkards Am I put to our Cassio in some Action
That may offend the Isle. But here they come. Enter Cassio, Montano, and Gentlemen.

If Consequence do but approue my dreame, My Boate sailes freely, both with winde and Streame

Cas. ‘Fore heauen, they haue giuen me a rowse already

Mon. Good-faith a litle one: not past a pint, as I am a Souldier

Iago. Some Wine hoa.
And let me the Cannakin clinke, clinke: And let me the Cannakin clinke.
A Souldiers a man: Oh, mans life’s but a span, Why then let a Souldier drinke.
Some Wine Boyes

Cas. ‘Fore Heauen: an excellent Song

Iago. I learn’d it in England: where indeed they are most potent in Potting. Your Dane, your Germaine, and your swag-belly’d Hollander, (drinke hoa) are nothing to your English

Cassio. Is your Englishmen so exquisite in his drinking? Iago. Why, he drinkes you with facillitie, your Dane dead drunke. He sweates not to ouerthrow your Almaine. He giues your Hollander a vomit, ere the next Pottle can be fill’d

Cas. To the health of our Generall

Mon. I am for it Lieutenant: and Ile do you Iustice

Iago. Oh sweet England.
King Stephen was anda worthy Peere, His Breeches cost him but a Crowne,
He held them Six pence all to deere, With that he cal’d the Tailor Lowne:
He was a wight of high Renowne,
And thou art but of low degree:
‘Tis Pride that pulls the Country downe, And take thy awl’d Cloake about thee.
Some Wine hoa

Cassio. Why this is a more exquisite Song then the other

Iago. Will you heare’t againe?
Cas. No: for I hold him to be vnworthy of his Place, that do’s those things. Well: heau’ns aboue all: and there be soules must be saued, and there be soules must not be saued

Iago. It’s true, good Lieutenant

Cas. For mine owne part, no offence to the Generall, nor any man of qualitie: I hope to be saued

Iago. And so do I too Lieutenant

Cassio. I: (but by your leaue) not before me. The Lieutenant is to be saued before the Ancient. Let’s haue no more of this: let’s to our Affaires. Forgiue vs our sinnes: Gentlemen let’s looke to our businesse. Do not thinke Gentlemen, I am drunke: this is my Ancient, this is my right hand, and this is my left. I am not drunke now: I can stand well enough, and I speake well enough

Gent. Excellent well

Cas. Why very well then: you must not thinke then, that I am drunke.

Monta. To th’ Platforme (Masters) come, let’s set the Watch

Iago. You see this Fellow, that is gone before, He’s a Souldier, fit to stand by Caesar, And giue direction. And do but see his vice, ‘Tis to his vertue, a iust Equinox,
The one as long as th’ other. ‘Tis pittie of him: I feare the trust Othello puts him in,
On some odde time of his infirmitie Will shake this Island

Mont. But is he often thus?
Iago. ‘Tis euermore his prologue to his sleepe, He’le watch the Horologe a double Set,
If Drinke rocke not his Cradle

Mont. It were well
The Generall were put in mind of it: Perhaps he sees it not, or his good nature Prizes the vertue that appeares in Cassio, And lookes not on his euills: is not this true? Enter Rodorigo.

Iago. How now Rodorigo?
I pray you after the Lieutenant, go

Mon. And ’tis great pitty, that the Noble Moore Should hazard such a Place, as his owne Second With one of an ingraft Infirmitie,
It were an honest Action, to say so To the Moore

Iago. Not I, for this faire Island, I do loue Cassio well: and would do much To cure him of this euill, But hearke, what noise? Enter Cassio pursuing Rodorigo.

Cas. You Rogue: you Rascall

Mon. What’s the matter Lieutenant?
Cas. A Knaue teach me my dutie? Ile beate the Knaue in to a Twiggen-Bottle

Rod. Beate me?
Cas. Dost thou prate, Rogue?
Mon. Nay, good Lieutenant:
I pray you Sir, hold your hand

Cassio. Let me go (Sir)
Or Ile knocke you o’re the Mazard

Mon. Come, come: you’re drunke

Cassio. Drunke?
Iago. Away I say: go out and cry a Mutinie. Nay good Lieutenant. Alas Gentlemen:
Helpe hoa. Lieutenant. Sir Montano: Helpe Masters. Heere’s a goodly Watch indeed. Who’s that which rings the Bell: Diablo, hoa: The Towne will rise. Fie, fie Lieutenant, You’le be asham’d for euer.
Enter Othello, and Attendants.

Othe. What is the matter heere?
Mon. I bleed still, I am hurt to th’ death. He dies

Othe. Hold for your liues

Iag. Hold hoa: Lieutenant, Sir Montano, Gentlemen: Haue you forgot all place of sense and dutie? Hold. The Generall speaks to you: hold for shame

Oth. Why how now hoa? From whence ariseth this? Are we turn’d Turkes? and to our selues do that Which Heauen hath forbid the Ottamittes. For Christian shame, put by this barbarous Brawle: He that stirs next, to carue for his owne rage, Holds his soule light: He dies vpon his Motion. Silence that dreadfull Bell, it frights the Isle, From her propriety. What is the matter, Masters? Honest Iago, that lookes dead with greeuing, Speake: who began this? On thy loue I charge thee? Iago. I do not know: Friends all, but now, euen now. In Quarter, and in termes like Bride, and Groome Deuesting them for Bed: and then, but now: (As if some Planet had vnwitted men)
Swords out, and tilting one at others breastes, In opposition bloody. I cannot speake
Any begining to this peeuish oddes. And would, in Action glorious, I had lost Those legges, that brought me to a part of it

Othe. How comes it (Michaell) you are thus forgot? Cas. I pray you pardon me, I cannot speake

Othe. Worthy Montano, you were wont to be ciuill: The grauitie, and stillnesse of your youth The world hath noted. And your name is great In mouthes of wisest Censure. What’s the matter That you vnlace your reputation thus,
And spend your rich opinion, for the name Of a night-brawler? Giue me answer to it

Mon. Worthy Othello, I am hurt to danger, Your Officer Iago, can informe you,
While I spare speech which something now offends me. Of all that I do know, nor know I ought
By me, that’s said, or done amisse this night, Vnlesse selfe-charitie be sometimes a vice, And to defend our selues, it be a sinne
When violence assailes vs

Othe. Now by Heauen,
My blood begins my safer Guides to rule, And passion (hauing my best iudgement collied) Assaies to leade the way. If I once stir, Or do but lift this Arme, the best of you Shall sinke in my rebuke. Giue me to know How this foule Rout began: Who set it on, And he that is approu’d in this offence, Though he had twinn’d with me, both at a birth, Shall loose me. What in a Towne of warre, Yet wilde, the peoples hearts brim-full of feare, To Manage priuate, and domesticke Quarrell? In night, and on the Court and Guard of safetie? ‘Tis monstrous: Iago, who began’t?
Mon. If partially Affin’d, or league in office, Thou dost deliuer more, or lesse then Truth, Thou art no Souldier

Iago. Touch me not so neere,
I had rather haue this tongue cut from my mouth, Then it should do offence to Michaell Cassio. Yet I perswade my selfe, to speake the truth Shall nothing wrong him. This it is Generall: Montano and my selfe being in speech,
There comes a Fellow, crying out for helpe, And Cassio following him with determin’d Sword To execute vpon him. Sir, this Gentleman, Steppes in to Cassio, and entreats his pause: My selfe, the crying Fellow did pursue,
Least by his clamour (as it so fell out) The Towne might fall in fright. He, (swift of foote) Out-ran my purpose: and I return’d then rather For that I heard the clinke, and fall of Swords, And Cassio high in oath: Which till to night I nere might say before. When I came backe (For this was briefe) I found them close together At blow, and thrust, euen as againe they were When you your selfe did part them.
More of this matter cannot I report, But Men are Men: The best sometimes forget, Though Cassio did some little wrong to him, As men in rage strike those that wish them best, Yet surely Cassio, I beleeue receiu’d
From him that fled, some strange Indignitie, Which patience could not passe

Othe. I know Iago
Thy honestie, and loue doth mince this matter, Making it light to Cassio: Cassio, I loue thee, But neuer more be Officer of mine.
Enter Desdemona attended.

Looke if my gentle Loue be not rais’d vp: Ile make thee an example

Des. What is the matter (Deere?)
Othe. All’s well, Sweeting:
Come away to bed. Sir for your hurts, My selfe will be your Surgeon. Lead him off: Iago, looke with care about the Towne,
And silence those whom this vil’d brawle distracted. Come Desdemona, ’tis the Soldiers life,
To haue their Balmy slumbers wak’d with strife. Enter.

Iago. What are you hurt Lieutenant?
Cas. I, past all Surgery

Iago. Marry Heauen forbid

Cas. Reputation, Reputation, Reputation: Oh I haue lost my Reputation. I haue lost the immortall part of myselfe, and what remaines is bestiall. My Reputation, Iago, my Reputation

Iago. As I am an honest man I had thought you had receiued some bodily wound; there is more sence in that then in Reputation. Reputation is an idle, and most false imposition; oft got without merit, and lost without deseruing. You haue lost no Reputation at all, vnlesse you repute your selfe such a looser. What man, there are more wayes to recouer the Generall againe. You are but now cast in his moode, (a punishment more in policie, then in malice) euen so as one would beate his offencelesse dogge, to affright an Imperious Lyon. Sue to him againe, and he’s yours

Cas. I will rather sue to be despis’d, then to deceiue so good a Commander, with so slight, so drunken, and so indiscreet an Officer. Drunke? And speake Parrat? And squabble? Swagger? Sweare? And discourse Fustian with ones owne shadow? Oh thou invisible spirit of Wine, if thou hast no name to be knowne by, let vs call thee Diuell

Iago. What was he that you follow’d with your Sword? What had he done to you?
Cas. I know not

Iago. Is’t possible?
Cas. I remember a masse of things, but nothing distinctly: a Quarrell, but nothing wherefore. Oh, that men should put an Enemie in their mouthes, to steale away their Braines? that we should with ioy, pleasance, reuell and applause, transforme our selues into Beasts

Iago. Why? But you are now well enough: how came you thus recouered?
Cas. It hath pleas’d the diuell drunkennesse, to giue place to the diuell wrath, one vnperfectnesse, shewes me another to make me frankly despise my selfe

Iago. Come, you are too seuere a Moraller. As the Time, the Place, & the Condition of this Country stands I could hartily wish this had not befalne: but since it is, as it is, mend it for your owne good

Cas. I will aske him for my Place againe, he shall tell me, I am a drunkard: had I as many mouthes as Hydra, such an answer would stop them all. To be now a sensible man, by and by a Foole, and presently a Beast. Oh strange! Euery inordinate cup is vnbless’d, and the Ingredient is a diuell

Iago. Come, come: good wine, is a good familiar Creature, if it be well vs’d: exclaime no more against it. And good Lieutenant, I thinke, you thinke I loue you

Cassio. I haue well approued it, Sir. I drunke? Iago. You, or any man liuing, may be drunke at a time man. I tell you what you shall do: Our General’s Wife, is now the Generall. I may say so, in this respect, for that he hath deuoted, and giuen vp himselfe to the Contemplation, marke: and deuotement of her parts and Graces. Confesse your selfe freely to her: Importune her helpe to put you in your place againe. She is of so free, so kinde, so apt, so blessed a disposition, she holds it a vice in her goodnesse, not to do more then she is requested. This broken ioynt betweene you, and her husband, entreat her to splinter. And my Fortunes against any lay worth naming, this cracke of your Loue, shall grow stronger, then it was before

Cassio. You aduise me well

Iago. I protest in the sinceritie of Loue, and honest kindnesse

Cassio. I thinke it freely: and betimes in the morning, I will beseech the vertuous Desdemona to vndertake for me: I am desperate of my Fortunes if they check me

Iago. You are in the right: good night Lieutenant, I must to the Watch

Cassio. Good night, honest Iago.

Exit Cassio.

Iago. And what’s he then,
That saies I play the Villaine?
When this aduise is free I giue, and honest, Proball to thinking, and indeed the course To win the Moore againe.
For ’tis most easie
Th’ inclyning Desdemona to subdue
In any honest Suite. She’s fram’d as fruitefull As the free Elements. And then for her
To win the Moore, were to renownce his Baptisme, All Seales, and Simbols of redeemed sin: His Soule is so enfetter’d to her Loue,
That she may make, vnmake, do what she list, Euen as her Appetite shall play the God, With his weake Function. How am I then a Villaine, To Counsell Cassio to this paralell course, Directly to his good? Diuinitie of hell, When diuels will the blackest sinnes put on, They do suggest at first with heauenly shewes, As I do now. For whiles this honest Foole Plies Desdemona, to repaire his Fortune, And she for him, pleades strongly to the Moore, Ile powre this pestilence into his eare: That she repeales him, for her bodies Lust, And by how much she striues to do him good, She shall vndo her Credite with the Moore. So will I turne her vertue into pitch.
And out of her owne goodnesse make the Net, That shall en-mash them all.
How now Rodorigo?
Enter Rodorigo.

Rodorigo. I do follow heere in the Chace, not like a Hound that hunts, but one that filles vp the Crie. My Money is almost spent; I haue bin to night exceedingly well Cudgell’d: And I thinke the issue will bee, I shall haue so much experience for my paines; And so, with no money at all, and a little more Wit, returne againe to Venice

Iago. How poore are they that haue not Patience? What wound did euer heale but by degrees? Thou know’st we worke by Wit, and not by Witchcraft And Wit depends on dilatory time:
Dos’t not go well? Cassio hath beaten thee, And thou by that small hurt hath casheer’d Cassio: Though other things grow faire against the Sun, Yet Fruites that blossome first, will first be ripe: Content thy selfe, a-while. Introth ’tis Morning; Pleasure, and Action, make the houres seeme short. Retire thee, go where thou art Billited: Away, I say, thou shalt know more heereafter: Nay get thee gone.

Exit Roderigo.

Two things are to be done:
My Wife must moue for Cassio to her Mistris: Ile set her on my selfe, a while, to draw the Moor apart, And bring him iumpe, when he may Cassio finde Soliciting his wife: I, that’s the way:
Dull not Deuice, by coldnesse, and delay. Enter.

Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.

Enter Cassio, Musitians, and Clowne.

Cassio. Masters, play heere, I wil content your paines, Something that’s briefe: and bid, goodmorrow General

Clo. Why Masters, haue your Instruments bin in Naples, that they speake i’th’ Nose thus?
Mus. How Sir? how?
Clo. Are these I pray you, winde Instruments? Mus. I marry are they sir

Clo. Oh, thereby hangs a tale

Mus. Whereby hangs a tale, sir?
Clow. Marry sir, by many a winde Instrument that I know. But Masters, heere’s money for you: and the Generall so likes your Musick, that he desires you for loues sake to make no more noise with it

Mus. Well Sir, we will not

Clo. If you haue any Musicke that may not be heard, too’t againe. But (as they say) to heare Musicke, the Generall do’s not greatly care

Mus. We haue none such, sir

Clow. Then put vp your Pipes in your bagge, for Ile away. Go, vanish into ayre, away.

Exit Mu.

Cassio. Dost thou heare me, mine honest Friend? Clo. No, I heare not your honest Friend: I heare you

Cassio. Prythee keepe vp thy Quillets, ther’s a poore peece of Gold for thee: if the Gentlewoman that attends the Generall be stirring, tell her, there’s one Cassio entreats her a little fauour of Speech. Wilt thou do this? Clo. She is stirring sir: if she will stirre hither, I shall seeme to notifie vnto her.

Exit Clo.

Enter Iago.

In happy time, Iago

Iago. You haue not bin a-bed then?
Cassio. Why no: the day had broke before we parted. I haue made bold (Iago) to send in to your wife: My suite to her is, that she will to vertuous Desdemona Procure me some accesse

Iago. Ile send her to you presently: And Ile deuise a meane to draw the Moore Out of the way, that your conuerse and businesse May be more free.


Cassio. I humbly thanke you for’t. I neuer knew A Florentine more kinde, and honest.
Enter aemilia.

Aemil. Goodmorrow (good Lieutenant) I am sorrie For your displeasure: but all will sure be well. The Generall and his wife are talking of it, And she speakes for you stoutly. The Moore replies, That he you hurt is of great Fame in Cyprus, And great Affinitie: and that in wholsome Wisedome He might not but refuse you. But he protests he loues you And needs no other Suitor, but his likings To bring you in againe

Cassio. Yet I beseech you,
If you thinke fit, or that it may be done, Giue me aduantage of some breefe Discourse With Desdemon alone.
Aemil. Pray you come in:
I will bestow you where you shall haue time To speake your bosome freely

Cassio. I am much bound to you.

Scoena Secunda.

Enter Othello, Iago, and Gentlemen.

Othe. These Letters giue (Iago) to the Pylot, And by him do my duties to the Senate:
That done, I will be walking on the Workes, Repaire there to mee

Iago. Well, my good Lord, Ile doo’t

Oth. This Fortification (Gentlemen) shall we see’t? Gent. Well waite vpon your Lordship.


Scoena Tertia.

Enter Desdemona, Cassio, and aemilia.

Des. Be thou assur’d (good Cassio) I will do All my abilities in thy behalfe.
Aemil. Good Madam do:
I warrant it greeues my Husband,
As if the cause were his

Des. Oh that’s an honest Fellow, Do not doubt Cassio But I will haue my Lord, and you againe
As friendly as you were

Cassio. Bounteous Madam,
What euer shall become of Michael Cassio, He’s neuer any thing but your true Seruant

Des. I know’t: I thanke you: you do loue my Lord: You haue knowne him long, and be you well assur’d He shall in strangenesse stand no farther off, Then in a politique distance

Cassio. I, but Lady,
That policie may either last so long, Or feede vpon such nice and waterish diet, Or breede it selfe so out of Circumstances,