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When, being not at your lodging to be found,
The senate sent about three several quests
To search you out.
'Tis well I am found by you. | will but spend a word here in the house, And go with you.
Ancient, what makes he here? lago. Faith, he to-night hath boarded a land carack : If it prove lawful prize, he's made for ever.
Cas. I do not understand.
Iago. Marry, to -- Come, captain, will you go?
Have with you
Cas. Here comes another troop to seek for you.
Iago. It is Brabantio :- general, be advis'd;
He comes to bad intent.
Enter BRABANTIO, RODERIGO, and Officers with
torches and weapons. Oth.
Holla! stand there!
Rod. Signior, it is the Moor.
Down with him, thief!
[They draw on both sides, lago. You, Roderigo ! come, sir, I am for you. Oth. Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust
Good signior, you shall more command with years
Than with your weapons.
Bra. O thou foul thief, where hast thou stow'd my
Damn'd 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 shunn'd
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 practic'd on her with foul charms;
Abus'd her delicate youth with drugs or minerals
That weaken 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.
Hold your hands,
my inclining, and the rest : Were it my cue to fight, I should have known it Without a prompter. -- Where will you that I go To answer this your charge ? Bra.
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.
Sailor. [within] What, ho! what, ho ! what, ho 1
First Off. A messenger from the galleys.
Enter a Sailor.
Now,- what's the business?
Sail. The Turkish preparation makes for Rhodes;
So was I bid report here to the state
By Signior Angelo.
Duke. How say you by this change?
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,
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 dress'd 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.
First Off. Here is more news.
Enter a Messenger.
Mess. The Ottomites, reverend and gracious,
Steering with due course toward the isle of Rhodes,
Have there injointed them with an after fleet.
First Sen. Ay, so I thought.- How many, as you guess?
Mess. Of thirty sail : and now they do re-stem
Their backward course, bearing with frank appearance
Their purposes toward Cyprus.- Signior Montano,
Your trusty and most valiant servitor,
With his free duty recommends you thus,
And prays you to believe him.
Duke.' 'Tis certain, then, for Cyprus.-
Marcus Luccicos, is not he in town?
First Sen. He's now in Florence.
Duke. Write from us to him; post-post-haste dispatch.
First Sen. Here comes Brabantio and the valiant Moor.
Enter BRABANTIO, OTHELLO, IAGO, RODERIGO, and
Officers. Duke. Valiant Othello, we must straight employ you Against the general enemy Ottoman.[ To Brabantio] I did not see you ; welcome, gentle signior; We lack'd your counsel and your help to-night.
Bra. So did I yours. Good your grace, pardon me; Neither my place, nor aught I heard of business, Hath rais'd me from my bed; nor doth the general care Take hold on me; for my particular grief Is of so flood-gate and o'erbearing nature That it engluts and swallows other sorrows, And it is still itself. Duke,
Why, what's the matter? Bra. My daughter! O, my daughter ! Duke and Sen.
Dead ? Bra.
Ay, to :
She is abus'd, stol’n from me, and corrupted
By spells and medicines bought of mountebanks;
For nature so preposterously to err,
Being not deficient, blind, or lame of sense,
Sans witchcraft could not.
Duke. Whoe'er he be that, in this foul proceeding,
Hath thus beguild 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 a ;tion.
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 and Sen. We're very sorry for’t.
Duke [to Oihello] What, in your own part, can you say
Bra. Nothing, but this is so.
Oth. Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors,
My very noble and approv'd 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 bless'd with the soft phrase of peace ;
For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith,
Till now some nine moons wasted, they have us'd
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 unvarnish'd tale deliver
Of my whole course of love; what drugs, what chowrms,
What conjuration, and what mighty magic,-
For such proceeding I am charg'd withal,-
I won his daughter.
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.
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.