SCENE III. The same. 2 Sen. 1 Sen. Indeed, they are disproportion'd; My letters say, a hundred and seven gallies. Duke. And mine, a hundred and forty. 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. Their purposes toward Cyprus.-Signior Montano, With his free duty, recommends you thus, Duke. 'Tis certain then for Cyprus. Marcus Lucchesé, is he not in town? 1 Sen. He's now in Florence. Duke. Write from us; wish him post-post-haste: despatch. 1 Sen. Here comes Brabantio, and the valiant Moor. Enter BRABANTIO, OTHELLO, IAGO, RODERIGO, and Officers. Duke. Valiant Othello, we must straight employ She is abus'd, stol'n from me, and corrupted Duke. Whoe'er he be, that, in this foul pro ceeding, Hath thus beguil'd your daughter of herself, Bra. 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. Duke & Sen. We are very sorry for it. Duke. What, in your own part, can you say to this? Bra. Nothing, but this is so. TO OTHELLO, Oth. Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors, | And sold to slavery; of my redemption thence, peace; And little bless'd with the set phrase of In speaking for myself: Yet, by your gracious patience, I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver Of my whole course of love; what drugs, what charms, What conjuration, and what mighty magick, (For such proceeding I am charg'd withal,) I won his daughter with. Bra. A maiden never bold; Of spirit so still and quiet, that her motion Blush'd at herself; And she, in spite of nature, Of years, of country, credit, every thing, To fall in love with what she fear'd to look on? It is a judgment maim'd, 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 conjur'd to this effect, He wrought upon her. Duke. Would Desdemona seriously incline: But still the house affairs would draw her thence; 'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful : She wish'd, she had not heard it; yet she wish'd That heaven had made her such a man: she thank'd me; And bade me, if I had a friend that lov'd her, To vouch this, is no proof; This only is the witchcraft I have us'd; For thy escape would teach me tyranny, Which, as a grise, or step, may help these lovers When remedies are past, the griefs are ended, By seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended. The robb'd, that smiles, steals something from the He robs himself, that spends a bootless grief. Oth. The tyrant custom, most grave senators, I find in hardness; and do undertake Duke. Be't at her father's. Bra. Oth. Nor I. If you please, I'll not have it so. see; She has deceiv'd her father, and may thee. [Exeunt DUKE, Senators, Officers, &c. Honest lago, Oth. My life upon her faith. My Desdemona must I leave to thee; I pr'ythee, let thy wife attend on her; And bring them after in the best advantage. Nor I; I would not there reside, Of love, of worldly matters and direction, To put my father in impatient thoughts, By being in his eye. Most gracious duke, Duke. What would you, Desdemona ? Des. That I did love the Moor to live with him, I saw Othello's visage in his mind; And to his honours, 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 rights for which I love him, are bereft me, Oth. Your voices, lords :-'beseech you, let her will To spend with thee: we must obey the time. Rod. Iago. Jago. What say'st thou, noble heart? Rod. What will I do, thinkest thou? Iago. Why, go to bed, and sleep. Rod. I will incontinently drown myself. Iago. Well, if thou dost, I shall never love thee after it. Why, thou silly gentleman! Rod. It is silliness to live, when to live is a 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 between a benefit and an injury, I never found a man that knew how to love bimself. Ere I would say, I would drown myself for the love of a Guinea-hen, I would change my humanit with a baboon. Rod. What should I do? I confess, it is shame to be so fond; but it is not in 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 steril 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 preposterous 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. Rod. It cannot be. I 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; could never better stead thee than now. Put money in thy purse; follow these wars; defeat thy favour 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, 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. She must have change, she must: therefore put money in thy purse. 1 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. Rod. Wilt thou be fast to my hopes, if I depend on the issue? Go, make money: Iago. Thou art sure of me; - I have told thee often, and I re-tell 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, and 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 to-morrow. Adieu. Rod. Where shall we meet i'the morning? Rod. I'll be with thee betimes. Iago. Go to; farewell. Do you hear, Roderigo? Jago. No more of drowning, do you hear. Rod. I am changed. I'll sell all my land. Iago. Go to; farewell! put money enough in [Exit RODERIGO. | Thus do I ever make my fool my purse: For I mine own gain'd knowledge should profane, your purse. If I would time expend with such a snipe, true; see: - 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. Emil. You have little cause to say so. Iago. Come on, come on; you are pictures out of doors, Bells in your parlours, wild cats in your kitchens, Saints in your injuries, devils being offended, Players in your housewifery, and housewives in your beds. Des. O, fye upon thee, slanderer! Iago. Nay, it is true, or else I am a Turk ; Iago. O gentle lady, do not put me to't; Iago. Ay, madam. There's one gone to the |