Bra. What tell'st thou me of robbing? This is Venice:

My house is not a grange.

Rod. 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, 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.

Bra. 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.

Bra. Thou art a villain.
Iago.

You are a senator.

Bra. This thou shalt answer: I know thee,

Roderigo.

Rod. Sir, I will answer anything. But I beseech you,

If't be your pleasure and most wise consent
(As partly I find it is) that your fair daughter,
At this odd-even and dull watch o' 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

Cannot with safety cast him: for he 's embarked
With such loud reason to the Cyprus' wars
(Which even now stand in act), that, for their souls,
Another of his fathom they have not
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 shew out a flag and sign of love,
Which is indeed but sign. That you shall
surely find him,

Lead to the Sagittary the raiséd search;
And there will I be with him. So farewell. [Exit.

Enter, below, BRABANTIO, and Servants, with torches.

Bra. 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 't was she?-O, thou deceivest me

Past thought!-What said she to you?-Get more tapers;

Raise all my kindred.—Are they married, think you?

Rod. Truly, I think they are.

Bra. 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.-Are there not charms
By which the property of youth and maidhood
May be abused? Have you not read, Roderigo,
Of some such thing?
Rod.

Yes, sir; I have indeed.
Bra. Call up my brother.-O, that you had
had her!-

Some one way, some another.-Do you know Where we may apprehend her and the Moor?

Rod. I think I can discover him; if you please To get good guard, and go along with me.

Bra. 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 will deserve your pains. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.-The same. Another Street.

Enter OTHELLO, IAGO, and Attendants. 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

My services, which I have done the signiory,
Shall out-tongue his complaints. 'Tis yet to know
(Which when I know that boasting is an honour
I shall promulgate) I fetch my life and being
From men of royal siege; and my demerits
May speak unbonneted to as proud a fortune
As this that I have reached. For know, Iago,
But that I love the gentle Desdemona,
I would not my unhouséd free condition
Put into circumscription and confine

For the sea's worth.-But, look! what lights come yonder?

my daughter?

Damned 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 curléd 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 't is not gross in sense
That thou hast practised on her with foul charms;

Abused her delicate youth with drugs or minerals
That waken motion. I'll have it 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.

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?

Bra.

To prison till fit time Of law, and course of direct session, Call thee to answer.

SCENE III.-The same. A Council- Chamber. The DUKE and Senators, sitting; Officers attending. Duke. There is no composition in these news, That gives them credit.

1st Sen. Indeed they are disproportioned. My letters say, a hundred and seven gallies. Duke. And mine, a hundred and forty. 2nd Sen. And mine, two hundred.

But though they jump not on a just account (As in these cases where the aim reports, 'Tis oft with difference), yet do they all confirm A Turkish fleet, and bearing up to Cyprus.

Duke. Nay, it is possible enough to 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!

Enter an Officer, with a Sailor. Offi. A messenger from the gallies.

Duke.

Now: the business ?

Sail. 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? 1st Sen. This cannot be,

By no assay of reason : 't is 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.

Offi. Here is more news.

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. The Ottomites, reverend and gracious, Steering with due course toward the Isle of Rhodes, Have there injointed them with an after fleet. 1st Sen. Ay, so I thought :-how many, as you guess?

Mess. Of thirty sail: and now do they re-stem Their backward course, bearing with frank appearance

Their purposes toward Cyprus.-Signior 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 Lucchicos, is not he in town?
1st Sen. He's now in Florence.

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

1st Sen. Here comes Brabantio and the valiant Moor.

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

Duke. Valiant Othello, we must straight employ you

Against the general enemy Ottoman.

I did not see you; welcome, gentle signior: [To BRABANTIO. We lacked your counsel and your help to-night. yours. Good your grace, par

Bra. So did I

don me:

Oth. 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 the very moment that he bade me tell it.
Wherein I spoke of most disastrous chances;
Of moving accidents by flood and field;
Of hair-breadth scapes i'the imminent deadly
breach;

Of being taken by the insolent foe,

And sold to slavery; of my redemption thence,
And with it all my travel'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 the process:
And of the Cannibals that each other eat;
The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads
Do grow beneath their shoulders. These things
to hear

Would Desdemona seriously incline :

But still the house affairs would draw her thence;
Which ever as she could with haste despatch,
She'd come again, and with a greedy ear
Devour up my discourse. Which I observing,
Took once a pliant hour; and found good means
To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart
That I would all my pilgrimage dilate,
Whereof by parcels she had something heard,
But not intentively. I did consent;
And often did beguile her of her tears,
When I did speak of some distressful stroke
That my youth suffered. My story being done,
She gave me for my pains a world of sighs:
She swore,-In faith, 't was strange, 't was pass-
ing strange;

"T was pitiful, 't was 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,

I do perceive here a divided duty.

Το

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 shewed
To you, preferring you before her father,
So much I challenge that I may profess
Due to the Moor, my lord.

Bra. God be with you! I have done.—
Please it your grace, on to the state affairs:
I had rather to adopt a child than get it.—
Come hither, Moor:

I here do give thee that with all my heart,
Which, but thou hast already, with all my heart
I would keep from thee.-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 them.-I have done, my lord.
Duke. Let me speak like yourself, and lay a

sentence

Which, as a grise 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.

Bra. So let the Turk of Cyprus us beguile : We lose it not so long as we can smile. He bears the sentence well that nothing bears But the free comfort which from thence he hears: