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’ll not hear me!
If ever I did dream of such a matter,
Abhor me.
RODERIGO
Thou toldst me thou didst hold him in thy hate.
IAGO Despise me
If I do not. Three great ones of the city,
In personal suit to make me his lieutenant,
Off-capped to him; and, by the faith of man,
I know my price, I am worth no worse a place.
But he, as loving his own pride and purposes,
Evades them with a bombast circumstance,
Horribly stuffed with epithets of war,
And in conclusion,
Nonsuits my mediators. For “Certes,” says he,
“I have already chose my officer.”
And what was he?
Forsooth, a great arithmetician,
One Michael Cassio, a Florentine,
A fellow almost damned in a fair wife,

---

That never set a squadron in the field,
Nor the division of a battle knows
More than a spinster—unless the bookish theoric,
Wherein the togèd consuls can propose
As masterly as he. Mere prattle without practice
Is all his soldiership. But he, sir, had th’ election;
And I, of whom his eyes had seen the proof
At Rhodes, at Cyprus, and on other grounds
Christened and heathen, must be beleed and
calmed
By debitor and creditor. This countercaster,
He, in good time, must his lieutenant be,
And I, God bless the mark, his Moorship’s ancient.
RODERIGO
By heaven, I rather would have been his hangman.
IAGO
Why, there’s no remedy. ’Tis the curse of service.
Preferment goes by letter and affection,
And not by old gradation, where each second
Stood heir to th’ first. Now, sir, be judge yourself
Whether I in any just term am affined
To love the Moor.
RODERIGO
I would not follow him, then.
IAGO O, sir, content you.
I follow him to serve my turn upon him.
We cannot all be masters, nor all masters
Cannot be truly followed. You shall mark
Many a duteous and knee-crooking knave
That, doting on his own obsequious bondage,
Wears out his time, much like his master’s ass,
For naught but provender, and when he’s old,
cashiered.
Whip me such honest knaves! Others there are
Who, trimmed in forms and visages of duty,
Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves,

---

And, throwing but shows of service on their lords,
Do well thrive by them; and when they have lined
their coats,
Do themselves homage. These fellows have some
soul,
And such a one do I profess myself. For, sir,
It is as sure as you are Roderigo,
Were I the Moor I would not be Iago.
In following him, I follow but myself.
Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty,
But seeming so for my peculiar end.
For when my outward action doth demonstrate
The native act and figure of my heart
In complement extern, ’tis not long after
But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve
For daws to peck at. I am not what I am.
RODERIGO
What a full fortune does the thick-lips owe
If he can carry ’t thus!
IAGO Call up her father.
Rouse him. Make after him, poison his delight,
Proclaim him in the streets; incense her kinsmen,
And, though he in a fertile climate dwell,
Plague him with flies. Though that his joy be joy,
Yet throw such chances of vexation on ’t
As it may lose some color.
RODERIGO
Here is her father’s house. I’ll call aloud.
IAGO
Do, with like timorous accent and dire yell
As when, by night and negligence, the fire
Is spied in populous cities.
RODERIGO
What ho, Brabantio! Signior Brabantio, ho!
IAGO
Awake! What ho, Brabantio! Thieves, thieves!

---

Look to your house, your daughter, and your bags!
Thieves, thieves!

Enter Brabantio, above.

BRABANTIO
What is the reason of this terrible summons?
What is the matter there?
RODERIGO
Signior, is all your family within?
IAGO
Are your doors locked?
BRABANTIO Why, wherefore ask you this?
IAGO
Zounds , sir, you’re robbed. For shame, put on your
gown!
Your heart is burst. You have lost half your soul.
Even now, now, very now, an old black ram
Is tupping your white ewe. Arise, arise!
Awake the snorting citizens with the bell,
Or else the devil will make a grandsire of you.
Arise, I say!
BRABANTIO What, have you lost your wits?
RODERIGO
Most reverend signior, do you know my voice?
BRABANTIO Not I. What are you?
RODERIGO
My name is Roderigo.
BRABANTIO The worser welcome.
I have charged thee not to haunt about my doors.
In honest plainness thou hast heard me say
My daughter is not for thee. And now in madness,
Being full of supper and distemp’ring draughts,
Upon malicious bravery dost thou come
To start my quiet.
RODERIGO Sir, sir, sir—
BRABANTIO But thou must needs be sure

---

My spirit and my place have in them power
To make this bitter to thee.
RODERIGO
Patience, good sir.
BRABANTIO What tell’st thou me of robbing?
This is Venice. My house is not a grange.
RODERIGO Most grave Brabantio,
In simple and pure soul I come to you—
IAGO Zounds , sir, you are one of those that will not
serve God if the devil bid you. Because we come to
do you service and you think we are ruffians, you’ll
have your daughter covered with a Barbary horse,
you’ll have your nephews neigh to you, you’ll have
coursers for cousins and jennets for germans.
BRABANTIO What profane wretch art thou?
IAGO I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter
and the Moor are now making the beast with
two backs.
BRABANTIO Thou art a villain.
IAGO You are a senator.
BRABANTIO
This thou shalt answer. I know thee, Roderigo.
RODERIGO
Sir, I will answer anything. But I beseech you,
If ’t be your pleasure and most wise consent—
As partly I find it is—that your fair daughter,
At this odd-even and dull watch o’ th’ night,
Transported with no worse nor better guard
But with a knave of common hire, a gondolier,
To the gross clasps of a lascivious Moor:
If this be known to you, and your allowance,
We then have done you bold and saucy wrongs.
But if you know not this, my manners tell me
We have your wrong rebuke. Do not believe
That from the sense of all civility
I thus would play and trifle with your Reverence.

---

Your daughter, if you have not given her leave,
I say again, hath made a gross revolt,
Tying her duty, beauty, wit, and fortunes
In an extravagant and wheeling stranger
Of here and everywhere. Straight satisfy yourself.
If she be in her chamber or your house,
Let loose on me the justice of the state
For thus deluding you.
BRABANTIO Strike on the tinder, ho!
Give me a taper. Call up all my people.
This accident is not unlike my dream.
Belief of it oppresses me already.
Light, I say, light! He exits.
IAGO , to Roderigo Farewell, for I must leave you.
It seems not meet nor wholesome to my place
To be producted, as if I stay I shall,
Against the Moor. For I do know the state,
However this may gall him with some check,
Cannot with safety cast him, for he’s embarked
With such loud reason to the Cyprus wars,
Which even now stands 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 raisèd search,
And there will I be with him. So, farewell. He exits.

Enter Brabantio in his nightgown, with Servants and
Torches.

BRABANTIO
It is too true an evil. Gone she is,
And what’s to come of my despisèd time

---

Is naught but bitterness.—Now, Roderigo,
Where didst thou see her?—O, unhappy girl!—
With the Moor, sayst 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 will deserve your pains.
They exit.

Enter Othello, Iago, Attendants, with Torches.

IAGO
Though in the trade of war I have slain men,
Yet do I hold it very stuff o’ th’ conscience
To do no contrived murder. I lack iniquity
Sometimes to do me service. Nine or ten times
I had thought t’ have yerked him here under the
ribs.
OTHELLO
’Tis better as it is.
IAGO Nay, but he prated
And spoke such scurvy and provoking terms
Against your Honor,
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 or 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 honor,
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 unhousèd free condition
Put into circumscription and confine
For the sea’s worth. But look, what lights come
yond?

---

IAGO
Those are the raisèd 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, with Officers , and 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
called for.
When, being not at your lodging to be found,
The Senate hath sent about three several quests
To search you out.
OTHELLO ’Tis well I am found by you.
I will but spend a word here in the house
And go with you. He exits.
CASSIO Ancient, what makes he here?
IAGO
Faith, he tonight hath boarded a land carrack.
If it prove lawful prize, he’s made forever.
CASSIO
I do not understand.

---

IAGO He’s married.
CASSIO To who?
IAGO
Marry, to—

Reenter Othello.

Come, captain, will you go?
OTHELLO Have with you.
CASSIO
Here comes another troop to seek for you.

Enter Brabantio, Roderigo, with Officers, and Torches.

IAGO
It is Brabantio. General, be advised,
He comes to bad intent.
OTHELLO Holla, stand there!
RODERIGO
Signior, it is the Moor.
BRABANTIO Down with him,
thief!
They draw their swords.
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 stowed 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 curlèd darlings of our nation,
Would ever have, t’ 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 practiced on her with foul charms,
Abused her delicate youth with drugs or minerals
That weakens 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 practicer
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.—Whither 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?
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,
Bondslaves and pagans shall our statesmen be.
They exit.

Enter Duke, Senators, and Officers.

DUKE , reading a paper
There’s no composition in these news
That gives them credit.
FIRST SENATOR , reading a paper
Indeed, they are disproportioned.
My letters say a hundred and seven galleys.
DUKE
And mine, a hundred forty.
SECOND SENATOR , reading a paper
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 Sailor.

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 Signior Angelo. He exits.
DUKE
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
Th’ 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 unskillful
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.

Enter a Messenger.

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. Signior Montano,
Your trusty and most valiant servitor,
With his free duty recommends you thus,
And prays you to believe him. He exits.
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.

---

FIRST SENATOR
Here comes Brabantio and the valiant Moor.

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

DUKE
Valiant Othello, we must straight employ you
Against the general enemy Ottoman.
To Brabantio. I did not see you. Welcome, gentle
signior.
We lacked your counsel and your help tonight.
BRABANTIO
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?
BRABANTIO
My daughter! O, my daughter!
FIRST SENATOR Dead?
BRABANTIO Ay, to me.
She is abused, stol’n from me, and corrupted
By spells and medicines bought of mountebanks;
For nature so prepost’rously 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.

---

BRABANTIO 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.
ALL We are very sorry for ’t.
DUKE , to Othello
What, in your own part, can you say to this?
BRABANTIO Nothing, but this is so.
OTHELLO
Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors,
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 broil 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 withal)
I won his daughter.
BRABANTIO A maiden never bold,
Of spirit so still and quiet that her motion
Blushed at herself. 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 judgment 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.
FIRST SENATOR But, Othello, speak:
Did you by indirect and forcèd 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 Fetch Desdemona hither.
OTHELLO
Ancient, conduct them. You best know the place.
Iago and Attendants exit.
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 hairbreadth ’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 traveler’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 sighs .
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.
Here comes the lady. Let her witness it.

Enter Desdemona, Iago, Attendants.

DUKE
I think this tale would win my daughter, too.
Good Brabantio,
Take up this mangled matter at the best.
Men do their broken weapons rather use
Than their bare hands.
BRABANTIO 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.
BRABANTIO 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 favor.
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 mock’ry makes.
The robbed that smiles steals something from the
thief;
He robs himself that spends a bootless grief.
BRABANTIO
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;
But he bears both the sentence and the sorrow
That, to pay grief, must of poor patience borrow.
These sentences to sugar or to gall,
Being strong on both sides, are equivocal.
But words are words. I never yet did hear
That the bruised heart was piercèd through the
ear .
I humbly beseech you, proceed to th’ affairs of
state.

---

DUKE The Turk with a most mighty preparation makes
for Cyprus. Othello, the fortitude of the place is
best known to you. And though we have there a
substitute of most allowed sufficiency, yet opinion, a
sovereign mistress of effects, throws a more safer
voice on you. You must therefore be content to
slubber the gloss of your new fortunes with this
more stubborn and boist’rous expedition.
OTHELLO
The tyrant custom, most grave senators,
Hath made the flinty and steel couch of war
My thrice-driven bed of down. I do agnize
A natural and prompt alacrity
I find in hardness, and do undertake
This present wars against the Ottomites.
Most humbly, therefore, bending to your state,
I crave fit disposition for my wife,
Due reference of place and exhibition,
With such accommodation and besort
As levels with her breeding.
DUKE
Why, at her father’s.
BRABANTIO I will not have it so.
OTHELLO Nor I.
DESDEMONA Nor would I there reside
To put my father in impatient thoughts
By being in his eye. Most gracious duke,
To my unfolding lend your prosperous ear
And let me find a charter in your voice
T’ assist my simpleness.
DUKE What would you, Desdemona?
DESDEMONA
That I love the Moor to live with him
My downright violence and storm of fortunes
May trumpet to the world. My heart’s subdued
Even to the very quality of my lord.

---

I saw Othello’s visage in his mind,
And to his honors and his valiant parts
Did I my soul and fortunes consecrate.
So that, dear lords, if I be left behind,
A moth of peace, and he go to the war,
The rites for why I love him are bereft me
And I a heavy interim shall support
By his dear absence. Let me go with him.
OTHELLO Let her have your voice.
Vouch with me, heaven, I therefore beg it not
To please the palate of my appetite,
Nor to comply with heat (the young affects
In me defunct) and proper satisfaction,
But to be free and bounteous to her mind.
And heaven defend your good souls that you think
I will your serious and great business scant
For she is with me. No, when light-winged toys
Of feathered Cupid seel with wanton dullness
My speculative and officed instruments ,
That my disports corrupt and taint my business,
Let housewives make a skillet of my helm,
And all indign and base adversities
Make head against my estimation.
DUKE
Be it as you shall privately determine,
Either for her stay or going. Th’ affair cries haste,
And speed must answer it.
FIRST SENATOR
You must away tonight.
OTHELLO With all my
heart.
DUKE
At nine i’ th’ morning here we’ll meet again.
Othello, leave some officer behind
And he shall our commission bring to you,
With such things else of quality and respect
As doth import you.

---

OTHELLO So please your Grace, my
ancient.
A man he is of honesty and trust.
To his conveyance I assign my wife,
With what else needful your good Grace shall think
To be sent after me.
DUKE Let it be so.
Good night to everyone. To Brabantio. And, noble
signior,
If virtue no delighted beauty lack,
Your son-in-law is far more fair than black.
FIRST SENATOR
Adieu, brave Moor, use Desdemona well.
BRABANTIO
Look to her, Moor, if thou hast eyes to see.
She has deceived her father, and may thee. He exits.
OTHELLO
My life upon her faith!
The Duke, the Senators, Cassio, and Officers exit.
Honest Iago,
My Desdemona must I leave to thee.
I prithee let thy wife attend on her,
And bring them after in the best advantage.—
Come, Desdemona, I have but an hour
Of love, of worldly matters, and direction
To spend with thee. We must obey the time.
Othello and Desdemona exit.
RODERIGO Iago—
IAGO What sayst thou, noble heart?
RODERIGO What will I do, think’st thou?
IAGO Why, go to bed and sleep.
RODERIGO I will incontinently drown myself.
IAGO If thou dost, I shall never love thee after. Why,
thou silly gentleman!
RODERIGO It is silliness to live, when to live is torment,
and then have we a prescription to die when death is
our physician.

---

IAGO O, villainous! I have looked upon the world for
four times seven years, and since I could distinguish
betwixt a benefit and an injury, I never found
man that knew how to love himself. Ere I would say
I would drown myself for the love of a guinea hen, I
would change my humanity with a baboon.
RODERIGO What should I do? I confess it is my shame
to be so fond, but it is not in my virtue to amend it.
IAGO Virtue? A fig! ’Tis in ourselves that we are thus or
thus. Our bodies are our gardens, to the which our
wills are gardeners. So that if we will plant nettles
or sow lettuce, set hyssop and weed up thyme,
supply it with one gender of herbs or distract it
with many, either to have it sterile with idleness or
manured with industry, why the power and corrigible
authority of this lies in our wills. If the balance
of our lives had not one scale of reason to poise
another of sensuality, the blood and baseness of our
natures would conduct us to most prepost’rous
conclusions. But we have reason to cool our raging
motions, our carnal stings, our unbitted lusts—
whereof I take this that you call love to be a sect, or
scion.
RODERIGO It cannot be.
IAGO It is merely a lust of the blood and a permission
of the will. Come, be a man! Drown thyself? Drown
cats and blind puppies. I have professed me thy
friend, and I confess me knit to thy deserving
with cables of perdurable toughness. I could never
better stead thee than now. Put money in thy purse.
Follow thou the wars; defeat thy favor with an
usurped beard. I say, put money in thy purse. It
cannot be that Desdemona should long continue
her love to the Moor—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 Moors are
changeable in their wills. Fill thy purse with money.
The food that to him now is as luscious as locusts
shall be to him shortly as bitter as coloquintida.
She must change for youth. When she is sated
with his body she will find the error of her choice.
Therefore, put money in thy purse. If thou wilt
needs damn thyself, do it a more delicate way than
drowning. Make all the money thou canst. If sanctimony
and a frail vow betwixt an erring barbarian
and a supersubtle Venetian be not too hard for my
wits and all the tribe of hell, thou shalt enjoy her.
Therefore make money. A pox of drowning thyself!
It is clean out of the way. Seek thou rather to be
hanged in compassing thy joy than to be drowned
and go without her.
RODERIGO Wilt thou be fast to my hopes if I depend on
the issue?
IAGO Thou art sure of me. Go, make money. I have
told thee often, and I retell thee again and again, I
hate the Moor. My cause is hearted; thine hath no
less reason. Let us be conjunctive in our revenge
against him. If thou canst cuckold him, thou dost
thyself a pleasure, me a sport. There are many
events in the womb of time which will be delivered.
Traverse, go, provide thy money. We will have more
of this tomorrow. Adieu.
RODERIGO Where shall we meet i’ th’ morning?
IAGO At my lodging.
RODERIGO I’ll be with thee betimes.
IAGO Go to, farewell. Do you hear, Roderigo?
RODERIGO What say you?
IAGO No more of drowning, do you hear?
RODERIGO I am changed.
IAGO Go to, farewell. Put money enough in your
purse.

---

RODERIGO I’ll sell all my land. He exits.
IAGO
Thus do I ever make my fool my purse.
For I mine own gained knowledge should profane
If I would time expend with such a snipe
But for my sport and profit. I hate the Moor,
And it is thought abroad that ’twixt my sheets
’Has done my office. I know not if ’t be true,
But I, for mere suspicion in that kind,
Will do as if for surety. He holds me well.
The better shall my purpose work on him.
Cassio’s a proper man. Let me see now:
To get his place and to plume up my will
In double knavery—How? how?—Let’s see.
After some time, to abuse Othello’s ear
That he is too familiar with his wife.
He hath a person and a smooth dispose
To be suspected, framed to make women false.
The Moor is of a free and open nature
That thinks men honest that but seem to be so,
And will as tenderly be led by th’ nose
As asses are.
I have ’t. It is engendered. Hell and night
Must bring this monstrous birth to the world’s light.
He exits.

Enter Montano and two Gentlemen.

MONTANO
What from the cape can you discern at sea?
FIRST GENTLEMAN
Nothing at all. It is a high-wrought flood.
I cannot ’twixt the heaven and the main
Descry a sail.
MONTANO
Methinks the wind hath spoke aloud at land.
A fuller blast ne’er shook our battlements.
If it hath ruffianed so upon the sea,
What ribs of oak, when mountains melt on them,
Can hold the mortise? What shall we hear of this?
SECOND GENTLEMAN
A segregation of the Turkish fleet.
For do but stand upon the foaming shore,
The chidden billow seems to pelt the clouds,
The wind-shaked surge, with high and monstrous
mane,
Seems to cast water on the burning Bear
And quench the guards of th’ ever-fixèd pole.
I never did like molestation view
On the enchafèd flood.
MONTANO If that the Turkish fleet
Be not ensheltered and embayed, they are drowned.
It is impossible to bear it out.

---

Enter a third Gentleman.

THIRD GENTLEMAN News, lads! Our wars are done.
The desperate tempest hath so banged the Turks
That their designment halts. A noble ship of Venice
Hath seen a grievous wrack and sufferance
On most part of their fleet.
MONTANO
How? Is this true?
THIRD GENTLEMAN The ship is here put in,
A Veronesa. Michael Cassio,
Lieutenant to the warlike Moor Othello,
Is come on shore; the Moor himself at sea,
And is in full commission here for Cyprus.
MONTANO
I am glad on ’t. ’Tis a worthy governor.
THIRD GENTLEMAN
But this same Cassio, though he speak of comfort
Touching the Turkish loss, yet he looks sadly
And prays the Moor be safe, for they were parted
With foul and violent tempest.
MONTANO Pray heaven he be;
For I have served him, and the man commands
Like a full soldier. Let’s to the seaside, ho!
As well to see the vessel that’s come in
As to throw out our eyes for brave Othello,
Even till we make the main and th’ aerial blue
An indistinct regard.
THIRD GENTLEMAN Come, let’s do so;
For every minute is expectancy
Of more arrivance .

Enter Cassio.

CASSIO
Thanks, you the valiant of this warlike isle,
That so approve the Moor! O, let the heavens

---

Give him defense against the elements,
For I have lost him on a dangerous sea.
MONTANO Is he well shipped?
CASSIO
His bark is stoutly timbered, and his pilot
Of very expert and approved allowance;
Therefore my hopes, not surfeited to death,
Stand in bold cure.
Voices cry within. “A sail, a sail, a sail!”

Enter a Messenger.

CASSIO What noise?
MESSENGER
The town is empty; on the brow o’ th’ sea
Stand ranks of people, and they cry “A sail!”
CASSIO
My hopes do shape him for the Governor.
A shot.
SECOND GENTLEMAN
They do discharge their shot of courtesy.
Our friends, at least.
CASSIO I pray you, sir, go forth,
And give us truth who ’tis that is arrived.
SECOND GENTLEMAN I shall. He exits.
MONTANO
But, good lieutenant, is your general wived?
CASSIO
Most fortunately. He hath achieved a maid
That paragons description and wild fame,
One that excels the quirks of blazoning pens,
And in th’ essential vesture of creation
Does tire the ingener .

Enter Second Gentleman.

How now? Who has put in?

---

SECOND GENTLEMAN
’Tis one Iago, ancient to the General.
CASSIO
’Has had most favorable and happy speed!
Tempests themselves, high seas, and howling winds,
The guttered rocks and congregated sands
(Traitors ensteeped to clog the guiltless keel),
As having sense of beauty, do omit
Their mortal natures, letting go safely by
The divine Desdemona.
MONTANO What is she?
CASSIO
She that I spake of, our great captain’s captain,
Left in the conduct of the bold Iago,
Whose footing here anticipates our thoughts
A sennight’s speed. Great Jove, Othello guard,
And swell his sail with thine own powerful breath,
That he may bless this bay with his tall ship,
Make love’s quick pants in Desdemona’s arms,
Give renewed fire to our extincted spirits,
And bring all Cyprus comfort!

Enter Desdemona, Iago, Roderigo, and Emilia.

O, behold,
The riches of the ship is come on shore!
You men of Cyprus, let her have your knees.
He kneels.
Hail to thee, lady, and the grace of heaven,
Before, behind thee, and on every hand
Enwheel thee round. He rises.
DESDEMONA I thank you, valiant Cassio.
What tidings can you tell of my lord?
CASSIO
He is not yet arrived, nor know I aught
But that he’s well and will be shortly here.
DESDEMONA
O, but I fear—How lost you company?

---

CASSIO
The great contention of sea and skies
Parted our fellowship.
Within “A sail, a sail!” A shot.
But hark, a sail!
SECOND GENTLEMAN
They give their greeting to the citadel.
This likewise is a friend.
CASSIO See for the news.
Second Gentleman exits.
Good ancient, you are welcome. Welcome, mistress.
He kisses Emilia.
Let it not gall your patience, good Iago,
That I extend my manners. ’Tis my breeding
That gives me this bold show of courtesy.
IAGO
Sir, would she give you so much of her lips
As of her tongue she oft bestows on me,
You would have enough.
DESDEMONA
Alas, she has no speech!
IAGO In faith, too much.
I find it still when I have list to sleep.
Marry, before your Ladyship, I grant,
She puts her tongue a little in her heart
And chides with thinking.
EMILIA You have little cause to say so.
IAGO Come on, come on! You are pictures out of door,
bells in your parlors, wildcats in your kitchens,
saints in your injuries, devils being offended, players
in your huswifery, and huswives in your beds.
DESDEMONA Oh, fie upon thee, slanderer.
IAGO
Nay, it is true, or else I am a Turk.
You rise to play, and go to bed to work.
EMILIA
You shall not write my praise.

---

IAGO No, let me not.
DESDEMONA
What wouldst write of me if thou shouldst praise
me?
IAGO
O, gentle lady, do not put me to ’t,
For I am nothing if not critical.
DESDEMONA
Come on, assay.—There’s one gone to the harbor?
IAGO Ay, madam.
DESDEMONA , aside
I am not merry, but I do beguile
The thing I am by seeming otherwise.—
Come, how wouldst thou praise me?
IAGO I am about it, but indeed my invention comes
from my pate as birdlime does from frieze: it
plucks out brains and all. But my muse labors, and
thus she is delivered:
If she be fair and wise, fairness and wit,
The one’s for use, the other useth it.
DESDEMONA
Well praised! How if she be black and witty?
IAGO
If she be black, and thereto have a wit,
She’ll find a white that shall her blackness hit .
DESDEMONA
Worse and worse.
EMILIA How if fair and foolish?
IAGO
She never yet was foolish that was fair,
For even her folly helped her to an heir.
DESDEMONA These are old fond paradoxes to make
fools laugh i’ th’ alehouse. What miserable praise
hast thou for her that’s foul and foolish?
IAGO
There’s none so foul and foolish thereunto,
But does foul pranks which fair and wise ones do.

---

DESDEMONA O heavy ignorance! Thou praisest the
worst best. But what praise couldst thou bestow on
a deserving woman indeed, one that in the authority
of her merit did justly put on the vouch of very
malice itself?
IAGO
She that was ever fair and never proud,
Had tongue at will and yet was never loud,
Never lacked gold and yet went never gay,
Fled from her wish, and yet said “Now I may,”
She that being angered, her revenge being nigh,
Bade her wrong stay and her displeasure fly,
She that in wisdom never was so frail
To change the cod’s head for the salmon’s tail,
She that could think and ne’er disclose her mind,
See suitors following and not look behind,
She was a wight, if ever such wight were—
DESDEMONA To do what?
IAGO
To suckle fools and chronicle small beer.
DESDEMONA O, most lame and impotent conclusion!
—Do not learn of him, Emilia, though he be thy
husband.—How say you, Cassio? Is he not a most
profane and liberal counselor?
CASSIO He speaks home, madam. You may relish him
more in the soldier than in the scholar.
Cassio takes Desdemona’s hand.
IAGO , aside He takes her by the palm. Ay, well said,
whisper. With as little a web as this will I ensnare as
great a fly as Cassio. Ay, smile upon her, do. I will
gyve thee in thine own courtship. You say true, ’tis
so indeed. If such tricks as these strip you out of
your lieutenantry, it had been better you had not
kissed your three fingers so oft, which now again
you are most apt to play the sir in. Very good; well
kissed; an excellent courtesy! ’Tis so, indeed. Yet

---

again your fingers to your lips? Would they were
clyster pipes for your sake! Trumpets within.
The Moor. I know his trumpet.
CASSIO ’Tis truly so.
DESDEMONA Let’s meet him and receive him.
CASSIO Lo, where he comes!

Enter Othello and Attendants.

OTHELLO
O, my fair warrior!
DESDEMONA My dear Othello!
OTHELLO
It gives me wonder great as my content
To see you here before me. O my soul’s joy!
If after every tempest come such calms,
May the winds blow till they have wakened death,
And let the laboring bark climb hills of seas
Olympus high, and duck again as low
As hell’s from heaven! If it were now to die,
’Twere now to be most happy, for I fear
My soul hath her content so absolute
That not another comfort like to this
Succeeds in unknown fate.
DESDEMONA The heavens forbid
But that our loves and comforts should increase
Even as our days do grow!
OTHELLO Amen to that, sweet powers!
I cannot speak enough of this content.
It stops me here; it is too much of joy. They kiss.
And this, and this, the greatest discords be
That e’er our hearts shall make!
IAGO , aside O, you are well tuned now,
But I’ll set down the pegs that make this music,
As honest as I am.
OTHELLO Come. Let us to the castle.—
News, friends! Our wars are done. The Turks are
drowned.

---

How does my old acquaintance of this isle?—
Honey, you shall be well desired in Cyprus.
I have found great love amongst them. O, my sweet,
I prattle out of fashion, and I dote
In mine own comforts.—I prithee, good Iago,
Go to the bay and disembark my coffers.
Bring thou the master to the citadel.
He is a good one, and his worthiness
Does challenge much respect.—Come, Desdemona.
Once more, well met at Cyprus.
All but Iago and Roderigo exit.
IAGO , to a departing Attendant Do thou meet me presently
at the harbor. To Roderigo. Come hither . If
thou be’st valiant—as they say base men being in
love have then a nobility in their natures more than
is native to them—list me. The Lieutenant tonight
watches on the court of guard. First, I must tell thee
this: Desdemona is directly in love with him.
RODERIGO With him? Why, ’tis not possible.
IAGO Lay thy finger thus, and let thy soul be instructed.
Mark me with what violence she first loved the
Moor but for bragging and telling her fantastical
lies. And will she love him still for prating? Let not
thy discreet heart think it. Her eye must be fed. And
what delight shall she have to look on the devil?
When the blood is made dull with the act of sport,
there should be, again to inflame it and to give
satiety a fresh appetite, loveliness in favor, sympathy
in years, manners, and beauties, all which the Moor
is defective in. Now, for want of these required
conveniences, her delicate tenderness will find itself
abused, begin to heave the gorge, disrelish and
abhor the Moor. Very nature will instruct her in it
and compel her to some second choice. Now, sir,
this granted—as it is a most pregnant and unforced
position—who stands so eminent in the degree of

---

this fortune as Cassio does? A knave very voluble, no
further conscionable than in putting on the mere
form of civil and humane seeming for the better
compassing of his salt and most hidden loose
affection. Why, none, why, none! A slipper and
subtle knave, a finder-out of occasions, that has an
eye can stamp and counterfeit advantages, though
true advantage never present itself; a devilish knave!
Besides, the knave is handsome, young, and hath all
those requisites in him that folly and green minds
look after. A pestilent complete knave, and the
woman hath found him already.
RODERIGO I cannot believe that in her. She’s full of
most blessed condition.
IAGO Blessed fig’s end! The wine she drinks is made of
grapes. If she had been blessed, she would never
have loved the Moor. Blessed pudding! Didst thou
not see her paddle with the palm of his hand? Didst
not mark that?
RODERIGO Yes, that I did. But that was but courtesy.
IAGO Lechery, by this hand! An index and obscure
prologue to the history of lust and foul thoughts.
They met so near with their lips that their breaths
embraced together. Villainous thoughts, Roderigo!
When these mutualities so marshal the way, hard
at hand comes the master and main exercise, th’
incorporate conclusion. Pish! But, sir, be you ruled
by me. I have brought you from Venice. Watch you
tonight. For the command, I’ll lay ’t upon you.
Cassio knows you not. I’ll not be far from you. Do
you find 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 favorably minister.
RODERIGO Well.
IAGO Sir, he’s rash and very sudden in choler, and

---

haply may strike at you. Provoke him that he may,
for even out of that will I cause these of Cyprus to
mutiny, whose qualification shall come into no
true taste again but by the displanting of Cassio. So
shall you have a shorter journey to your desires by
the means I shall then have to prefer them, and the
impediment most profitably removed, without the
which there were no expectation of our prosperity.
RODERIGO I will do this, if you can bring it to any
opportunity.
IAGO I warrant thee. Meet me by and by at the citadel. I
must fetch his necessaries ashore. Farewell.
RODERIGO Adieu. He exits.
IAGO
That Cassio loves her, I do well believe ’t.
That she loves him, ’tis apt and of great credit.
The Moor, howbeit that I endure him not,
Is of a constant, loving, noble nature,
And I dare think he’ll prove to Desdemona
A most dear husband. Now, I do love her too,
Not out of absolute lust (though peradventure
I stand accountant for as great a sin)
But partly led to diet my revenge
For that I do suspect the lusty Moor
Hath leaped into my seat—the thought whereof
Doth, like a poisonous mineral, gnaw my inwards,
And nothing can or shall content my soul
Till I am evened with him, wife for wife,
Or, failing so, yet that I put the Moor
At least into a jealousy so strong
That judgment cannot cure. Which thing to do,
If this poor trash of Venice, whom I trace
For his quick hunting, stand the putting on,
I’ll have our Michael Cassio on the hip,
Abuse him to the Moor in the rank garb
(For I fear Cassio with my nightcap too),

---

Make the Moor thank me, love me, and reward me
For making him egregiously an ass
And practicing upon his peace and quiet
Even to madness. ’Tis here, but yet confused.
Knavery’s plain face is never seen till used.
He exits.

Enter Othello’s Herald with a proclamation.

HERALD It is Othello’s pleasure, our noble and valiant
general, that upon certain tidings now arrived,
importing the mere perdition of the Turkish fleet,
every man put himself into triumph: some to
dance, some to make bonfires, each man to what
sport and revels his addition leads him. For besides
these beneficial news, it is the celebration of his
nuptial. So much was his pleasure should be proclaimed
All offices are open, and there is full
liberty of feasting from this present hour of five till
the bell have told eleven. Heaven bless the isle of
Cyprus and our noble general, Othello!
He exits.

Enter Othello, Desdemona, Cassio, and Attendants.

OTHELLO
Good Michael, look you to the guard tonight.
Let’s teach ourselves that honorable stop
Not to outsport discretion.
CASSIO
Iago hath direction what to do,
But notwithstanding, with my personal eye
Will I look to ’t.

---

OTHELLO Iago is most honest.
Michael, goodnight. Tomorrow with your earliest
Let me have speech with you. To Desdemona. Come,
my dear love,
The purchase made, the fruits are to ensue;
That profit’s yet to come ’tween me and you.—
Goodnight.
Othello and Desdemona exit, with Attendants.

Enter Iago.

CASSIO
Welcome, Iago. We must to the watch.
IAGO Not this hour, lieutenant. ’Tis not yet ten o’ th’
clock. Our general cast us thus early for the love of
his Desdemona—who let us not therefore blame;
he hath not yet made wanton the night with her, and
she is sport for Jove.
CASSIO She’s a most exquisite lady.
IAGO And, I’ll warrant her, full of game.
CASSIO Indeed, she’s a most fresh and delicate
creature.
IAGO What an eye she has! Methinks it sounds a parley
to provocation.
CASSIO An inviting eye, and yet methinks right
modest.
IAGO And when she speaks, is it not an alarum to love?
CASSIO She is indeed perfection.
IAGO Well, happiness to their sheets! Come, lieutenant,
I have a stoup of wine; and here without are a
brace of Cyprus gallants that would fain have a
measure to the health of black Othello.
CASSIO Not tonight, good Iago. I have very poor and
unhappy brains for drinking. I could well wish
courtesy would invent some other custom of
entertainment.
IAGO O, they are our friends! But one cup; I’ll drink
for you.

---

CASSIO I have drunk but one cup tonight, and that was
craftily qualified too, and behold what innovation it
makes here. I am unfortunate in the infirmity and
dare not task my weakness with any more.
IAGO What, man! ’Tis a night of revels. The gallants
desire it.
CASSIO Where are they?
IAGO Here at the door. I pray you, call them in.
CASSIO I’ll do ’t, but it dislikes me. He exits.
IAGO
If I can fasten but one cup upon him
With that which he hath drunk tonight already,
He’ll be as full of quarrel and offense
As my young mistress’ dog. Now my sick fool
Roderigo,
Whom love hath turned almost the wrong side out,
To Desdemona hath tonight caroused
Potations pottle-deep; and he’s to watch.
Three else of Cyprus, noble swelling spirits
That hold their honors in a wary distance,
The very elements of this warlike isle,
Have I tonight flustered with flowing cups;
And they watch too. Now, ’mongst this flock of
drunkards
Am I to put our Cassio in some action
That may offend the isle. But here they come.
If consequence do but approve my dream,
My boat sails freely both with wind and stream.

Enter Cassio, Montano, and Gentlemen, followed by
Servants with wine.

CASSIO ’Fore God , they have given me a rouse
already.
MONTANO Good faith, a little one; not past a pint, as I
am a soldier.
IAGO Some wine, ho!

---

Sings . And let me the cannikin clink, clink,
And let me the cannikin clink.
A soldier’s a man,
O, man’s life’s but a span,
Why, then, let a soldier drink.
Some wine, boys!
CASSIO ’Fore God , an excellent song.
IAGO I learned it in England, where indeed they are
most potent in potting. Your Dane, your German,
and your swag-bellied Hollander—drink, ho!—are
nothing to your English.
CASSIO Is your Englishman so exquisite in his
drinking?
IAGO Why, he drinks you, with facility, your Dane
dead drunk. He sweats not to overthrow your Almain.
He gives your Hollander a vomit ere the next
pottle can be filled.
CASSIO To the health of our general!
MONTANO I am for it, lieutenant, and I’ll do you
justice.
IAGO O sweet England!
Sings . King Stephen was and-a worthy peer,
His breeches cost him but a crown;
He held them sixpence all too dear;
With that he called the tailor lown.
He was a wight of high renown,
And thou art but of low degree;
’Tis pride that pulls the country down,
Then take thy auld cloak about thee.
Some wine, ho!
CASSIO ’Fore God, this is a more exquisite song than
the other!
IAGO Will you hear ’t again?
CASSIO No, for I hold him to be unworthy of his place
that does those things. Well, God’s above all; and
there be souls must be saved, and there be souls
must not be saved.

---

IAGO It’s true, good lieutenant.
CASSIO For mine own part—no offense to the General,
nor any man of quality—I hope to be saved.
IAGO And so do I too, lieutenant.
CASSIO Ay, but, by your leave, not before me. The
Lieutenant is to be saved before the Ancient. Let’s
have no more of this. Let’s to our affairs. God
forgive us our sins! Gentlemen, let’s look to our
business. Do not think, gentlemen, I am drunk. This
is my ancient, this is my right hand, and this is my
left. I am not drunk now. I can stand well enough,
and I speak well enough.
GENTLEMEN Excellent well.
CASSIO Why, very well then. You must not think then
that I am drunk. He exits.
MONTANO
To th’ platform, masters. Come, let’s set the watch.
Gentlemen exit.
IAGO , to Montano
You see this fellow that is gone before?
He’s a soldier fit to stand by Caesar
And give direction; and do but see his vice.
’Tis to his virtue a just equinox,
The one as long as th’ other. ’Tis pity of him.
I fear the trust Othello puts him in,
On some odd time of his infirmity,
Will shake this island.
MONTANO But is he often thus?
IAGO
’Tis evermore the prologue to his sleep.
He’ll watch the horologe a double set
If drink rock not his cradle.
MONTANO It were well
The General were put in mind of it.
Perhaps he sees it not, or his good nature
Prizes the virtue that appears in Cassio
And looks not on his evils. Is not this true?

---

Enter Roderigo.

IAGO , aside to Roderigo How now, Roderigo?
I pray you, after the Lieutenant, go.
Roderigo exits.
MONTANO
And ’tis great pity that the noble Moor
Should hazard such a place as his own second
With one of an engraffed infirmity.
It were an honest action to say so
To the Moor.
IAGO Not I, for this fair island.
I do love Cassio well and would do much
To cure him of this evil— “Help , help!” within.
But hark! What noise?

Enter Cassio, pursuing Roderigo.

CASSIO Zounds , you rogue, you rascal!
MONTANO What’s the matter, lieutenant?
CASSIO A knave teach me my duty? I’ll beat the knave
into a twiggen bottle.
RODERIGO Beat me?
CASSIO Dost thou prate, rogue? He hits Roderigo.
MONTANO Nay, good lieutenant. I pray you, sir, hold
your hand.
CASSIO Let me go, sir, or I’ll knock you o’er the
mazard.
MONTANO Come, come, you’re drunk.
CASSIO Drunk?
They fight.
IAGO , aside to Roderigo
Away, I say! Go out and cry a mutiny.
Roderigo exits.
Nay, good lieutenant.— God’s will, gentlemen!—
Help, ho! Lieutenant—sir—Montano— sir —
Help, masters!—Here’s a goodly watch indeed!
A bell is rung.

---

Who’s that which rings the bell? Diablo, ho!
The town will rise. God’s will, lieutenant, hold !
You will be shamed forever.

Enter Othello and Attendants.

OTHELLO
What is the matter here?
MONTANO Zounds , I bleed
still.
I am hurt to th’ death. He dies! He attacks Cassio.
OTHELLO Hold, for your lives!
IAGO
Hold, ho! Lieutenant—sir—Montano—
gentlemen—
Have you forgot all sense of place and duty?
Hold! The General speaks to you. Hold, for shame!
OTHELLO
Why, how now, ho! From whence ariseth this?
Are we turned Turks, and to ourselves do that
Which heaven hath forbid the Ottomites?
For Christian shame, put by this barbarous brawl!
He that stirs next to carve for his own rage
Holds his soul light; he dies upon his motion.
Silence that dreadful bell. It frights the isle
From her propriety. What is the matter, masters?
Honest Iago, that looks dead with grieving,
Speak. Who began this? On thy love, I charge thee.
IAGO
I do not know. Friends all but now, even now,
In quarter and in terms like bride and groom
Divesting them for bed; and then but now,
As if some planet had unwitted men,
Swords out, and tilting one at other’s breast ,
In opposition bloody. I cannot speak
Any beginning to this peevish odds,
And would in action glorious I had lost
Those legs that brought me to a part of it!

---

OTHELLO
How comes it, Michael, you are thus forgot?
CASSIO
I pray you pardon me; I cannot speak.
OTHELLO
Worthy Montano, you were wont be civil.
The gravity and stillness of your youth
The world hath noted. And your name is great
In mouths of wisest censure. What’s the matter
That you unlace your reputation thus,
And spend your rich opinion for the name
Of a night-brawler? Give me answer to it.
MONTANO
Worthy Othello, I am hurt to danger.
Your officer Iago can inform you,
While I spare speech, which something now offends
me,
Of all that I do know; nor know I aught
By me that’s said or done amiss this night,
Unless self-charity be sometimes a vice,
And to defend ourselves it be a sin
When violence assails us.
OTHELLO Now, by heaven,
My blood begins my safer guides to rule,
And passion, having my best judgment collied,
Assays to lead the way. Zounds , if I stir,
Or do but lift this arm, the best of you
Shall sink in my rebuke. Give me to know
How this foul rout began, who set it on;
And he that is approved in this offense,
Though he had twinned with me, both at a birth,
Shall lose me. What, in a town of war
Yet wild, the people’s hearts brimful of fear,
To manage private and domestic quarrel,
In night, and on the court and guard of safety?
’Tis monstrous. Iago, who began ’t?

---

MONTANO
If partially affined, or leagued in office,
Thou dost deliver more or less than truth,
Thou art no soldier.
IAGO Touch me not so near.
I had rather have this tongue cut from my mouth
Than it should do offense to Michael Cassio.
Yet I persuade myself, to speak the truth
Shall nothing wrong him. Thus it is, general:
Montano and myself being in speech,
There comes a fellow crying out for help,
And Cassio following him with determined sword
To execute upon him. Sir, this gentleman
Pointing to Montano.
Steps in to Cassio and entreats his pause.
Myself the crying fellow did pursue,
Lest by his clamor—as it so fell out—
The town might fall in fright. He, swift of foot,
Outran my purpose, and I returned the rather
For that I heard the clink and fall of swords
And Cassio high in oath, which till tonight
I ne’er might say before. When I came back—
For this was brief—I found them close together
At blow and thrust, even as again they were
When you yourself 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 believe, received
From him that fled some strange indignity
Which patience could not pass.
OTHELLO I know, Iago,
Thy honesty and love doth mince this matter,
Making it light to Cassio.—Cassio, I love thee,
But nevermore be officer of mine.

---

Enter Desdemona attended.

Look if my gentle love be not raised up!
I’ll make thee an example.
DESDEMONA
What is the matter, dear?
OTHELLO All’s well now ,
sweeting.
Come away to bed. To Montano. Sir, for your hurts,
Myself will be your surgeon.—Lead him off.
Montano is led off.
Iago, look with care about the town
And silence those whom this vile brawl
distracted.—
Come, Desdemona. ’Tis the soldier’s life
To have their balmy slumbers waked with strife.
All but Iago and Cassio exit.
IAGO What, are you hurt, lieutenant?
CASSIO Ay, past all surgery.
IAGO Marry, God forbid!
CASSIO Reputation, reputation, reputation! O, I have
lost my reputation! I have lost the immortal part of
myself, and what remains is bestial. My reputation,
Iago, my reputation!
IAGO As I am an honest man, I thought you had
received some bodily wound. There is more sense
in that than in reputation. Reputation is an idle and
most false imposition, oft got without merit and lost
without deserving. You have lost no reputation at
all, unless you repute yourself such a loser. What,
man, there are ways to recover the General again!
You are but now cast in his mood—a punishment
more in policy than in malice, even so as one would
beat his offenseless dog to affright an imperious
lion. Sue to him again and he’s yours.
CASSIO I will rather sue to be despised than to deceive
so good a commander with so slight, so drunken,

---

and so indiscreet an officer. Drunk ? And speak
parrot? And squabble? Swagger? Swear? And discourse
fustian with one’s own shadow? O thou
invisible spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be
known by, let us call thee devil!
IAGO What was he that you followed with your sword?
What had he done to you?
CASSIO I know not.
IAGO Is ’t possible?
CASSIO I remember a mass of things, but nothing
distinctly; a quarrel, but nothing wherefore. O
God , that men should put an enemy in their
mouths to steal away their brains! That we should
with joy, pleasance, revel, and applause transform
ourselves into beasts!
IAGO Why, but you are now well enough. How came
you thus recovered?
CASSIO It hath pleased the devil drunkenness to give
place to the devil wrath. One unperfectness shows
me another, to make me frankly despise myself.
IAGO Come, you are too severe a moraler. As the time,
the place, and the condition of this country stands,
I could heartily wish this had not so befallen. But
since it is as it is, mend it for your own good.
CASSIO I will ask him for my place again; he shall tell
me I am a drunkard! Had I as many mouths as
Hydra, such an answer would stop them all. To be
now a sensible man, by and by a fool, and presently
a beast! O, strange! Every inordinate cup is unblessed,
and the ingredient is a devil.
IAGO Come, come, good wine is a good familiar creature,
if it be well used. Exclaim no more against it.
And, good lieutenant, I think you think I love you.
CASSIO I have well approved it, sir.—I drunk!
IAGO You or any man living may be drunk at a time,
man. I’ll tell you what you shall do. Our general’s

---

wife is now the general: I may say so in this
respect, for that he hath devoted and given up
himself to the contemplation, mark, and denotement
of her parts and graces. Confess yourself
freely to her. Importune her help to put you in your
place again. She is of so free, so kind, so apt, so
blessed a disposition she holds it a vice in her
goodness not to do more than she is requested. This
broken joint between you and her husband entreat
her to splinter, and, my fortunes against any lay
worth naming, this crack of your love shall grow
stronger than it was before.
CASSIO You advise me well.
IAGO I protest, in the sincerity of love and honest
kindness.
CASSIO I think it freely; and betimes in the morning I
will beseech the virtuous Desdemona to undertake
for me. I am desperate of my fortunes if they check
me here .
IAGO You are in the right. Good night, lieutenant. I
must to the watch.
CASSIO Good night, honest Iago. Cassio exits.
IAGO
And what’s he, then, that says I play the villain,
When this advice is free I give and honest,
Probal to thinking, and indeed the course
To win the Moor again? For ’tis most easy
Th’ inclining Desdemona to subdue
In any honest suit. She’s framed as fruitful
As the free elements. And then for her
To win the Moor— were ’t to renounce his baptism,
All seals and symbols of redeemèd sin—
His soul is so enfettered to her love
That she may make, unmake, do what she list,
Even as her appetite shall play the god
With his weak function. How am I then a villain

---

To counsel Cassio to this parallel course
Directly to his good? Divinity of hell!
When devils will the blackest sins put on,
They do suggest at first with heavenly shows,
As I do now. For whiles this honest fool
Plies Desdemona to repair his fortune,
And she for him pleads strongly to the Moor,
I’ll pour this pestilence into his ear:
That she repeals him for her body’s lust;
And by how much she strives to do him good,
She shall undo her credit with the Moor.
So will I turn her virtue into pitch,
And out of her own goodness make the net
That shall enmesh them all.

Enter Roderigo.

How now, Roderigo?
RODERIGO I do follow here in the chase, not like a
hound that hunts, but one that fills up the cry. My
money is almost spent, I have been tonight exceedingly
well cudgeled, and I think the issue will be I
shall have so much experience for my pains, and so,
with no money at all and a little more wit, return
again to Venice.
IAGO
How poor are they that have not patience!
What wound did ever heal but by degrees?
Thou know’st we work by wit and not by witchcraft,
And wit depends on dilatory time.
Does ’t not go well? Cassio hath beaten thee,
And thou, by that small hurt, hast cashiered Cassio.
Though other things grow fair against the sun,
Yet fruits that blossom first will first be ripe.
Content thyself awhile. By th’ Mass, ’tis morning!
Pleasure and action make the hours seem short.
Retire thee; go where thou art billeted.

---

Away, I say! Thou shalt know more hereafter.
Nay, get thee gone. Roderigo exits.
Two things are to be done.
My wife must move for Cassio to her mistress.
I’ll set her on.
Myself the while to draw the Moor apart
And bring him jump when he may Cassio find
Soliciting his wife. Ay, that’s the way.
Dull not device by coldness and delay.
He exits.

Enter Cassio with Musicians.

CASSIO
Masters, play here (I will content your pains)
Something that’s brief; and bid “Good morrow,
general.” They play.

Enter the Clown.

CLOWN Why masters, have your instruments been in
Naples, that they speak i’ th’ nose thus?
MUSICIAN How, sir, how?
CLOWN Are these, I pray you, wind instruments?
MUSICIAN Ay, marry, are they, sir.
CLOWN O, thereby hangs a tail.
MUSICIAN Whereby hangs a tale, sir?
CLOWN Marry, sir, by many a wind instrument that I
know. But, masters, here’s money for you; and the
General so likes your music that he desires you, for
love’s sake, to make no more noise with it.
MUSICIAN Well, sir, we will not.
CLOWN If you have any music that may not be heard, to
’t again. But, as they say, to hear music the General
does not greatly care.
MUSICIAN We have none such, sir.
CLOWN Then put up your pipes in your bag, for I’ll
away. Go, vanish into air, away!

---

Musicians exit.
CASSIO Dost thou hear, mine honest friend?
CLOWN No, I hear not your honest friend. I hear you.
CASSIO Prithee, keep up thy quillets. Giving money.
There’s a poor piece of gold for thee. If the gentlewoman
that attends the General’s wife be stirring,
tell her there’s one Cassio entreats her a little favor
of speech. Wilt thou do this?
CLOWN She is stirring, sir. If she will stir hither, I shall
seem to notify unto her.
CASSIO
Do, good my friend. Clown exits.

Enter Iago.

In happy time, Iago.
IAGO You have not been abed, then?
CASSIO Why, no. The day had broke
Before we parted. I have made bold, Iago,
To send in to your wife. My suit to her
Is that she will to virtuous Desdemona
Procure me some access.
IAGO I’ll send her to you presently,
And I’ll devise a mean to draw the Moor
Out of the way, that your converse and business
May be more free.
CASSIO
I humbly thank you for ’t. Iago exits. I never
knew
A Florentine more kind and honest.

Enter Emilia.

EMILIA
Good morrow, good lieutenant. I am sorry
For your displeasure, but all will sure be well.
The General and his wife are talking of it,
And she speaks for you stoutly. The Moor replies

---

That he you hurt is of great fame in Cyprus
And great affinity, and that in wholesome wisdom
He might not but refuse you. But he protests he
loves you
And needs no other suitor but his likings
To take the safest occasion by the front
To bring you in again.
CASSIO Yet I beseech you,
If you think fit, or that it may be done,
Give me advantage of some brief discourse
With Desdemon alone.
EMILIA Pray you come in.
I will bestow you where you shall have time
To speak your bosom freely.
CASSIO I am much bound to you.
They exit.

Enter Othello, Iago, and Gentlemen.

OTHELLO
These letters give, Iago, to the pilot
And by him do my duties to the Senate.
He gives Iago some papers.
That done, I will be walking on the works.
Repair there to me.
IAGO Well, my good lord, I’ll do ’t.
OTHELLO
This fortification, gentlemen, shall we see ’t?
GENTLEMEN
We wait upon your Lordship.
They exit.

Enter Desdemona, Cassio, and Emilia.

DESDEMONA
Be thou assured, good Cassio, I will do
All my abilities in thy behalf.
EMILIA
Good madam, do. I warrant it grieves my husband
As if the cause were his.
DESDEMONA
O, that’s an honest fellow! Do not doubt, Cassio,
But I will have my lord and you again
As friendly as you were.
CASSIO Bounteous madam,
Whatever shall become of Michael Cassio,
He’s never anything but your true servant.
DESDEMONA
I know ’t. I thank you. You do love my lord;
You have known him long; and be you well assured
He shall in strangeness stand no farther off
Than in a politic distance.
CASSIO Ay, but, lady,
That policy may either last so long,
Or feed upon such nice and waterish diet,
Or breed itself so out of circumstance ,
That, I being absent and my place supplied,
My general will forget my love and service.
DESDEMONA
Do not doubt that. Before Emilia here,
I give thee warrant of thy place. Assure thee,
If I do vow a friendship, I’ll perform it
To the last article. My lord shall never rest:
I’ll watch him tame and talk him out of patience;
His bed shall seem a school, his board a shrift;
I’ll intermingle everything he does
With Cassio’s suit. Therefore be merry, Cassio,

---

For thy solicitor shall rather die
Than give thy cause away.

Enter Othello and Iago.

EMILIA Madam, here comes my lord.
CASSIO Madam, I’ll take my leave.
DESDEMONA Why, stay, and hear me speak.
CASSIO
Madam, not now. I am very ill at ease,
Unfit for mine own purposes.
DESDEMONA Well, do your discretion. Cassio exits.
IAGO
Ha, I like not that.
OTHELLO What dost thou say?
IAGO
Nothing, my lord; or if—I know not what.
OTHELLO
Was not that Cassio parted from my wife?
IAGO
Cassio, my lord? No, sure, I cannot think it
That he would steal away so guiltylike,
Seeing your coming.
OTHELLO I do believe ’twas he.
DESDEMONA How now, my lord?
I have been talking with a suitor here,
A man that languishes in your displeasure.
OTHELLO Who is ’t you mean?
DESDEMONA
Why, your lieutenant, Cassio. Good my lord,
If I have any grace or power to move you,
His present reconciliation take;
For if he be not one that truly loves you,
That errs in ignorance and not in cunning,
I have no judgment in an honest face.
I prithee call him back.
OTHELLO Went he hence now?

---

DESDEMONA Yes , faith, so humbled
That he hath left part of his grief with me
To suffer with him. Good love, call him back.
OTHELLO
Not now, sweet Desdemon. Some other time.
DESDEMONA
But shall ’t be shortly?
OTHELLO The sooner, sweet, for you.
DESDEMONA
Shall ’t be tonight at supper?
OTHELLO No, not tonight.
DESDEMONA Tomorrow dinner, then?
OTHELLO I shall not dine at home;
I meet the captains at the citadel.
DESDEMONA
Why then tomorrow night, or Tuesday morn,
On Tuesday noon or night; on Wednesday morn.
I prithee name the time, but let it not
Exceed three days. In faith, he’s penitent;
And yet his trespass, in our common reason—
Save that, they say, the wars must make example
Out of her best—is not almost a fault
T’ incur a private check. When shall he come?
Tell me, Othello. I wonder in my soul
What you would ask me that I should deny,
Or stand so mamm’ring on? What? Michael Cassio,
That came a-wooing with you, and so many a time,
When I have spoke of you dispraisingly,
Hath ta’en your part—to have so much to do
To bring him in! By ’r Lady, I could do much—
OTHELLO
Prithee, no more. Let him come when he will;
I will deny thee nothing.
DESDEMONA Why, this is not a boon!
’Tis as I should entreat you wear your gloves,
Or feed on nourishing dishes, or keep you warm,

---

Or sue to you to do a peculiar profit
To your own person. Nay, when I have a suit
Wherein I mean to touch your love indeed,
It shall be full of poise and difficult weight,
And fearful to be granted.
OTHELLO I will deny thee nothing!
Whereon, I do beseech thee, grant me this,
To leave me but a little to myself.
DESDEMONA
Shall I deny you? No. Farewell, my lord.
OTHELLO
Farewell, my Desdemona. I’ll come to thee straight.
DESDEMONA
Emilia, come.—Be as your fancies teach you.
Whate’er you be, I am obedient.
Desdemona and Emilia exit.
OTHELLO
Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul
But I do love thee! And when I love thee not,
Chaos is come again.
IAGO My noble lord—
OTHELLO
What dost thou say, Iago?
IAGO Did Michael Cassio,
When you wooed my lady, know of your love?
OTHELLO
He did, from first to last. Why dost thou ask?
IAGO
But for a satisfaction of my thought,
No further harm.
OTHELLO Why of thy thought, Iago?
IAGO
I did not think he had been acquainted with her.
OTHELLO
O yes, and went between us very oft.
IAGO Indeed?

---

OTHELLO
Indeed? Ay, indeed! Discern’st thou aught in that?
Is he not honest?
IAGO Honest, my lord?
OTHELLO Honest—ay, honest.
IAGO
My lord, for aught I know.
OTHELLO What dost thou think?
IAGO Think, my lord?
OTHELLO
“Think, my lord?” By heaven, thou echo’st me
As if there were some monster in thy thought
Too hideous to be shown. Thou dost mean
something.
I heard thee say even now, thou lik’st not that,
When Cassio left my wife. What didst not like?
And when I told thee he was of my counsel
In my whole course of wooing, thou cried’st
“Indeed?”
And didst contract and purse thy brow together
As if thou then hadst shut up in thy brain
Some horrible conceit. If thou dost love me,
Show me thy thought.
IAGO My lord, you know I love you.
OTHELLO I think thou dost;
And for I know thou ’rt full of love and honesty
And weigh’st thy words before thou giv’st them
breath,
Therefore these stops of thine fright me the more.
For such things in a false, disloyal knave
Are tricks of custom; but in a man that’s just,
They’re close dilations working from the heart
That passion cannot rule.
IAGO For Michael Cassio,
I dare be sworn I think that he is honest.
OTHELLO
I think so too.

---

IAGO Men should be what they seem;
Or those that be not, would they might seem none!
OTHELLO Certain, men should be what they seem.
IAGO
Why then, I think Cassio’s an honest man.
OTHELLO Nay, yet there’s more in this.
I prithee speak to me as to thy thinkings,
As thou dost ruminate, and give thy worst of
thoughts
The worst of words.
IAGO Good my lord, pardon me.
Though I am bound to every act of duty,
I am not bound to that all slaves are free to.
Utter my thoughts? Why, say they are vile and
false—
As where’s that palace whereinto foul things
Sometimes intrude not? Who has that breast so
pure
But some uncleanly apprehensions
Keep leets and law days and in sessions sit
With meditations lawful?
OTHELLO
Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago,
If thou but think’st him wronged and mak’st his ear
A stranger to thy thoughts.
IAGO I do beseech you,
Though I perchance am vicious in my guess—
As, I confess, it is my nature’s plague
To spy into abuses, and oft my jealousy
Shapes faults that are not—that your wisdom
From one that so imperfectly conceits
Would take no notice, nor build yourself a trouble
Out of his scattering and unsure observance.
It were not for your quiet nor your good,
Nor for my manhood, honesty, and wisdom,
To let you know my thoughts.

---

OTHELLO What dost thou mean?
IAGO
Good name in man and woman, dear my lord,
Is the immediate jewel of their souls.
Who steals my purse steals trash. ’Tis something,
nothing;
’Twas mine, ’tis his, and has been slave to
thousands.
But he that filches from me my good name
Robs me of that which not enriches him
And makes me poor indeed.
OTHELLO By heaven, I’ll know thy thoughts.
IAGO
You cannot, if my heart were in your hand,
Nor shall not, whilst ’tis in my custody.
OTHELLO
Ha?
IAGO O, beware, my lord, of jealousy!
It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock
The meat it feeds on. That cuckold lives in bliss
Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger;
But O, what damnèd minutes tells he o’er
Who dotes, yet doubts; suspects, yet strongly loves!
OTHELLO O misery!
IAGO
Poor and content is rich, and rich enough;
But riches fineless is as poor as winter
To him that ever fears he shall be poor.
Good God , the souls of all my tribe defend
From jealousy!
OTHELLO Why, why is this?
Think’st thou I’d make a life of jealousy,
To follow still the changes of the moon
With fresh suspicions? No. To be once in doubt
Is once to be resolved. Exchange me for a goat
When I shall turn the business of my soul

---

To such exsufflicate and blown surmises,
Matching thy inference. ’Tis not to make me jealous
To say my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company,
Is free of speech, sings, plays, and dances well .
Where virtue is, these are more virtuous.
Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw
The smallest fear or doubt of her revolt,
For she had eyes, and chose me. No, Iago,
I’ll see before I doubt; when I doubt, prove;
And on the proof, there is no more but this:
Away at once with love or jealousy.
IAGO
I am glad of this, for now I shall have reason
To show the love and duty that I bear you
With franker spirit. Therefore, as I am bound,
Receive it from me. I speak not yet of proof.
Look to your wife; observe her well with Cassio;
Wear your eyes thus, not jealous nor secure.
I would not have your free and noble nature,
Out of self-bounty, be abused. Look to ’t.
I know our country disposition well.
In Venice they do let God see the pranks
They dare not show their husbands. Their best
conscience
Is not to leave ’t undone, but keep ’t unknown.
OTHELLO Dost thou say so?
IAGO
She did deceive her father, marrying you,
And when she seemed to shake and fear your looks,
She loved them most.
OTHELLO And so she did.
IAGO Why, go to, then!
She that, so young, could give out such a seeming,
To seel her father’s eyes up close as oak,
He thought ’twas witchcraft! But I am much to
blame.

---

I humbly do beseech you of your pardon
For too much loving you.
OTHELLO I am bound to thee forever.
IAGO
I see this hath a little dashed your spirits.
OTHELLO
Not a jot, not a jot.
IAGO I’ faith, I fear it has.
I hope you will consider what is spoke
Comes from my love. But I do see you’re moved.
I am to pray you not to strain my speech
To grosser issues nor to larger reach
Than to suspicion.
OTHELLO I will not.
IAGO Should you do so, my lord,
My speech should fall into such vile success
As my thoughts aim not at. Cassio’s my worthy
friend.
My lord, I see you’re moved.
OTHELLO No, not much moved.
I do not think but Desdemona’s honest.
IAGO
Long live she so! And long live you to think so!
OTHELLO
And yet, how nature erring from itself—
IAGO
Ay, there’s the point. As, to be bold with you,
Not to affect many proposèd matches
Of her own clime, complexion, and degree,
Whereto we see in all things nature tends—
Foh! One may smell in such a will most rank,
Foul disproportion , thoughts unnatural—
But pardon me—I do not in position
Distinctly speak of her, though I may fear
Her will, recoiling to her better judgment,
May fall to match you with her country forms
And happily repent.

---

OTHELLO Farewell, farewell!
If more thou dost perceive, let me know more.
Set on thy wife to observe. Leave me, Iago.
IAGO , beginning to exit My lord, I take my leave.
OTHELLO
Why did I marry? This honest creature doubtless
Sees and knows more, much more, than he unfolds.
IAGO , returning
My lord, I would I might entreat your Honor
To scan this thing no farther. Leave it to time.
Although ’tis fit that Cassio have his place—
For sure he fills it up with great ability—
Yet, if you please to hold him off awhile,
You shall by that perceive him and his means.
Note if your lady strain his entertainment
With any strong or vehement importunity.
Much will be seen in that. In the meantime,
Let me be thought too busy in my fears—
As worthy cause I have to fear I am—
And hold her free, I do beseech your Honor.
OTHELLO Fear not my government.
IAGO I once more take my leave. He exits.
OTHELLO
This fellow’s of exceeding honesty,
And knows all qualities with a learnèd spirit
Of human dealings. If I do prove her haggard,
Though that her jesses were my dear heartstrings,
I’d whistle her off and let her down the wind
To prey at fortune. Haply, for I am black
And have not those soft parts of conversation
That chamberers have, or for I am declined
Into the vale of years—yet that’s not much—
She’s gone, I am abused, and my relief
Must be to loathe her. O curse of marriage,
That we can call these delicate creatures ours
And not their appetites! I had rather be a toad

---

And live upon the vapor of a dungeon
Than keep a corner in the thing I love
For others’ uses. Yet ’tis the plague of great ones;
Prerogatived are they less than the base.
’Tis destiny unshunnable, like death.
Even then this forkèd plague is fated to us
When we do quicken. Look where she comes.

Enter Desdemona and Emilia.

If she be false, heaven mocks itself!
I’ll not believe ’t.
DESDEMONA How now, my dear Othello?
Your dinner, and the generous islanders
By you invited, do attend your presence.
OTHELLO I am to blame.
DESDEMONA
Why do you speak so faintly? Are you not well?
OTHELLO
I have a pain upon my forehead, here.
DESDEMONA
Faith , that’s with watching. ’Twill away again.
Let me but bind it hard; within this hour
It will be well.
OTHELLO Your napkin is too little.
Let it alone. The handkerchief falls, unnoticed.
Come, I’ll go in with you.
DESDEMONA
I am very sorry that you are not well.
Othello and Desdemona exit.
EMILIA , picking up the handkerchief
I am glad I have found this napkin.
This was her first remembrance from the Moor.
My wayward husband hath a hundred times
Wooed me to steal it. But she so loves the token
(For he conjured her she should ever keep it)
That she reserves it evermore about her

---

To kiss and talk to. I’ll have the work ta’en out
And give ’t Iago. What he will do with it
Heaven knows, not I.
I nothing but to please his fantasy.

Enter Iago.

IAGO How now? What do you here alone?
EMILIA
Do not you chide. I have a thing for you.
IAGO
You have a thing for me? It is a common thing—
EMILIA Ha?
IAGO To have a foolish wife.
EMILIA
O, is that all? What will you give me now
For that same handkerchief?
IAGO What handkerchief?
EMILIA What handkerchief?
Why, that the Moor first gave to Desdemona,
That which so often you did bid me steal.
IAGO Hast stol’n it from her?
EMILIA
No, faith , she let it drop by negligence,
And to th’ advantage I, being here, took ’t up.
Look, here ’tis.
IAGO A good wench! Give it me.
EMILIA
What will you do with ’t, that you have been so
earnest
To have me filch it?
IAGO , snatching it Why, what is that to you?
EMILIA
If it be not for some purpose of import,
Give ’t me again. Poor lady, she’ll run mad
When she shall lack it.

---

IAGO Be not acknown on ’t.
I have use for it. Go, leave me. Emilia exits.
I will in Cassio’s lodging lose this napkin
And let him find it. Trifles light as air
Are to the jealous confirmations strong
As proofs of holy writ. This may do something.
The Moor already changes with my poison;
Dangerous conceits are in their natures poisons,
Which at the first are scarce found to distaste,
But with a little act upon the blood
Burn like the mines of sulfur.

Enter Othello.

I did say so.
Look where he comes. Not poppy nor mandragora
Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world
Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep
Which thou owedst yesterday.
OTHELLO Ha, ha, false to me?
IAGO
Why, how now, general? No more of that!
OTHELLO
Avaunt! Begone! Thou hast set me on the rack.
I swear ’tis better to be much abused
Than but to know ’t a little.
IAGO How now, my lord?
OTHELLO
What sense had I of her stol’n hours of lust?
I saw ’t not, thought it not; it harmed not me.
I slept the next night well, fed well, was free and
merry.
I found not Cassio’s kisses on her lips.
He that is robbed, not wanting what is stol’n,
Let him not know ’t, and he’s not robbed at all.
IAGO I am sorry to hear this.

---

OTHELLO
I had been happy if the general camp,
Pioners and all, had tasted her sweet body,
So I had nothing known. O, now, forever
Farewell the tranquil mind! Farewell content!
Farewell the plumèd troops and the big wars
That makes ambition virtue! O, farewell!
Farewell the neighing steed and the shrill trump,
The spirit-stirring drum, th’ ear-piercing fife,
The royal banner, and all quality,
Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war!
And O you mortal engines, whose rude throats
Th’ immortal Jove’s dread clamors counterfeit,
Farewell! Othello’s occupation’s gone!
IAGO Is ’t possible, my lord?
OTHELLO
Villain, be sure thou prove my love a whore!
Be sure of it. Give me the ocular proof,
Or, by the worth of mine eternal soul,
Thou hadst been better have been born a dog
Than answer my waked wrath.
IAGO Is ’t come to this?
OTHELLO
Make me to see ’t, or at the least so prove it
That the probation bear no hinge nor loop
To hang a doubt on, or woe upon thy life!
IAGO My noble lord—
OTHELLO
If thou dost slander her and torture me,
Never pray more. Abandon all remorse;
On horror’s head horrors accumulate;
Do deeds to make heaven weep, all Earth amazed;
For nothing canst thou to damnation add
Greater than that.
IAGO O grace! O heaven forgive me!
Are you a man? Have you a soul or sense?

---

God b’ wi’ you. Take mine office.—O wretched fool,
That liv’st to make thine honesty a vice!—
O monstrous world! Take note, take note, O world:
To be direct and honest is not safe.—
I thank you for this profit, and from hence
I’ll love no friend, sith love breeds such offense.
OTHELLO Nay, stay. Thou shouldst be honest.
IAGO
I should be wise; for honesty’s a fool
And loses that it works for.
OTHELLO By the world,
I think my wife be honest and think she is not.
I think that thou art just and think thou art not.
I’ll have some proof! Her name, that was as fresh
As Dian’s visage, is now begrimed and black
As mine own face. If there be cords, or knives,
Poison, or fire, or suffocating streams,
I’ll not endure it. Would I were satisfied!
IAGO
I see you are eaten up with passion.
I do repent me that I put it to you.
You would be satisfied?
OTHELLO Would? Nay, and I will.
IAGO
And may; but how? How satisfied, my lord?
Would you, the supervisor , grossly gape on,
Behold her topped?
OTHELLO Death and damnation! O!
IAGO
It were a tedious difficulty, I think,
To bring them to that prospect. Damn them then
If ever mortal eyes do see them bolster
More than their own! What then? How then?
What shall I say? Where’s satisfaction?
It is impossible you should see this,
Were they as prime as goats, as hot as monkeys,

---

As salt as wolves in pride, and fools as gross
As ignorance made drunk. But yet I say,
If imputation and strong circumstances
Which lead directly to the door of truth
Will give you satisfaction, you might have ’t.
OTHELLO
Give me a living reason she’s disloyal.
IAGO I do not like the office,
But sith I am entered in this cause so far,
Pricked to ’t by foolish honesty and love,
I will go on. I lay with Cassio lately,
And being troubled with a raging tooth
I could not sleep. There are a kind of men
So loose of soul that in their sleeps will mutter
Their affairs. One of this kind is Cassio.
In sleep I heard him say “Sweet Desdemona,
Let us be wary, let us hide our loves.”
And then, sir, would he gripe and wring my hand,
Cry “O sweet creature!” then kiss me hard,
As if he plucked up kisses by the roots
That grew upon my lips; then laid his leg
O’er my thigh, and sighed , and kissed , and then
Cried “Cursèd fate that gave thee to the Moor!”
OTHELLO
O monstrous! Monstrous!
IAGO Nay, this was but his
dream.
OTHELLO
But this denoted a foregone conclusion.
’Tis a shrewd doubt, though it be but a dream.
IAGO
And this may help to thicken other proofs
That do demonstrate thinly.
OTHELLO I’ll tear her all to pieces.
IAGO
Nay, but be wise. Yet we see nothing done.

---

She may be honest yet. Tell me but this:
Have you not sometimes seen a handkerchief
Spotted with strawberries in your wife’s hand?
OTHELLO
I gave her such a one. ’Twas my first gift.
IAGO
I know not that; but such a handkerchief—
I am sure it was your wife’s—did I today
See Cassio wipe his beard with.
OTHELLO If it be that—
IAGO
If it be that, or any that was hers,
It speaks against her with the other proofs.
OTHELLO
O, that the slave had forty thousand lives!
One is too poor, too weak for my revenge.
Now do I see ’tis true. Look here, Iago,
All my fond love thus do I blow to heaven.
’Tis gone.
Arise, black vengeance, from the hollow hell!
Yield up, O love, thy crown and hearted throne
To tyrannous hate! Swell, bosom, with thy fraught,
For ’tis of aspics’ tongues!
IAGO Yet be content.
OTHELLO O, blood, blood, blood!
IAGO
Patience, I say. Your mind perhaps may change.
OTHELLO
Never, Iago . Like to the Pontic Sea,
Whose icy current and compulsive course
Ne’er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on
To the Propontic and the Hellespont,
Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace
Shall ne’er look back, ne’er ebb to humble love,
Till that a capable and wide revenge
Swallow them up. He kneels. Now by yond marble
heaven,

---

In the due reverence of a sacred vow,
I here engage my words.
IAGO Do not rise yet. Iago kneels.
Witness, you ever-burning lights above,
You elements that clip us round about,
Witness that here Iago doth give up
The execution of his wit, hands, heart
To wronged Othello’s service! Let him command,
And to obey shall be in me remorse,
What bloody business ever. They rise.
OTHELLO I greet thy love
Not with vain thanks but with acceptance
bounteous,
And will upon the instant put thee to ’t.
Within these three days let me hear thee say
That Cassio’s not alive.
IAGO My friend is dead.
’Tis done at your request. But let her live.
OTHELLO Damn her, lewd minx! O, damn her, damn
her!
Come, go with me apart. I will withdraw
To furnish me with some swift means of death
For the fair devil. Now art thou my lieutenant.
IAGO I am your own forever.
They exit.