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1605 `
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THE TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, MOOR OF VENICE `
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by William Shakespeare `
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Dramatis Personae `
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OTHELLO, the Moor, general of the Venetian forces `
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DESDEMONA, his wife `
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IAGO, ensign to Othello `
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EMILIA, his wife, lady-in-waiting to Desdemona `
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CASSIO, lieutenant to Othello `
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THE DUKE OF VENICE `
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BRABANTIO, Venetian Senator, father of Desdemona `
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GRATIANO, nobleman of Venice, brother of Brabantio `
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LODOVICO, nobleman of Venice, kinsman of Brabantio `
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RODERIGO, rejected suitor of Desdemona `
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BIANCA, mistress of Cassio `
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MONTANO, a Cypriot official `
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A Clown in service to Othello `
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Senators, Sailors, Messengers, Officers, Gentlemen, Musicians, `
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and `
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Attendants `
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SCENE: Venice and Cyprus `
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ACT I. SCENE I. `
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Venice. A street. `
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Enter Roderigo and Iago. `
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RODERIGO. Tush, never tell me! I take it much unkindly `
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That thou, Iago, who hast had my purse `
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As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this. `
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IAGO. 'Sblood, but you will not hear me. `
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If ever I did dream of such a matter, `
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Abhor me. `
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RODERIGO. Thou told'st me thou didst hold him in thy hate. `
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IAGO. Despise me, if I do not. Three great ones of the city, `
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In personal suit to make me his lieutenant, `
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Off-capp'd to him; and, by the faith of man, `
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I know my price, I am worth no worse a place. `
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But he, as loving his own pride and purposes, `
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Evades them, with a bumbast circumstance `
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Horribly stuff'd with epithets of war, `
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And, in conclusion, `
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Nonsuits my mediators; for, "Certes," says he, `
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"I have already chose my officer." `
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And what was he? `
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Forsooth, a great arithmetician, `
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One Michael Cassio, a Florentine `
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(A fellow almost damn'd in a fair wife) `
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That never set a squadron in the field, `
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Nor the division of a battle knows `
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More than a spinster; unless the bookish theoric, `
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Wherein the toged consuls can propose `
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As masterly as he. Mere prattle without practice `
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Is all his soldiership. But he, sir, had the election; `
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And I, of whom his eyes had seen the proof `
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At Rhodes, at Cyprus, and on other grounds `
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Christian and heathen, must be belee'd and calm'd `
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By debitor and creditor. This counter-caster, `
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He, in good time, must his lieutenant be, `
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And I- God bless the mark!- his Moorship's ancient. `
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RODERIGO. By heaven, I rather would have been his hangman. `
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IAGO. Why, there's no remedy. 'Tis the curse of service, `
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Preferment goes by letter and affection, `
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And not by old gradation, where each second `
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Stood heir to the first. Now, sir, be judge yourself `
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Whether I in any just term am affined `
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To love the Moor. `
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RODERIGO. I would not follow him then. `
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IAGO. O, sir, content you. `
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I follow him to serve my turn upon him: `
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We cannot all be masters, nor all masters `
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Cannot be truly follow'd. You shall mark `
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Many a duteous and knee-crooking knave, `
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That doting on his own obsequious bondage `
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Wears out his time, much like his master's ass, `
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For nought but provender, and when he's old, cashier'd. `
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Whip me such honest knaves. Others there are `
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Who, trimm'd in forms and visages of duty, `
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Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves, `
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And throwing but shows of service on their lords `
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Do well thrive by them; and when they have lined their coats `
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Do themselves homage. These fellows have some soul, `
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And such a one do I profess myself. `
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For, sir, `
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It is as sure as you are Roderigo, `
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Were I the Moor, I would not be Iago. `
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In following him, I follow but myself; `
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Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty, `
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But seeming so, for my peculiar end. `
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For when my outward action doth demonstrate `
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The native act and figure of my heart `
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In complement extern, 'tis not long after `
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But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve `
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For daws to peck at: I am not what I am. `
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RODERIGO. What a full fortune does the thick-lips owe, `
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If he can carry't thus! `
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IAGO. Call up her father, `
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Rouse him, make after him, poison his delight, `
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Proclaim him in the streets, incense her kinsmen, `
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And, though he in a fertile climate dwell, `
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Plague him with flies. Though that his joy be joy, `
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Yet throw such changes of vexation on't `
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As it may lose some color. `
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RODERIGO. Here is her father's house; I'll call aloud. `
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IAGO. Do, with like timorous accent and dire yell `
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As when, by night and negligence, the fire `
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Is spied in populous cities. `
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RODERIGO. What, ho, Brabantio! Signior Brabantio, ho! `
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IAGO. Awake! What, ho, Brabantio! Thieves! Thieves! Thieves! `
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Look to your house, your daughter, and your bags! `
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Thieves! Thieves! `
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Brabantio appears above, at a window. `
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BRABANTIO. What is the reason of this terrible summons? `
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What is the matter there? `
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RODERIGO. Signior, is all your family within? `
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IAGO. Are your doors lock'd? `
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BRABANTIO. Why? Wherefore ask you this? `
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IAGO. 'Zounds, sir, you're robb'd! For shame, put on your gown; `
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Your heart is burst, you have lost half your soul; `
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Even now, now, very now, an old black ram `
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Is tupping your white ewe. Arise, arise! `
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Awake the snorting citizens with the bell, `
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Or else the devil will make a grandsire of you. `
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Arise, I say! `
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BRABANTIO. What, have you lost your wits? `
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RODERIGO. Most reverend signior, do you know my voice? `
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BRABANTIO. Not I. What are you? `
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RODERIGO. My name is Roderigo. `
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BRABANTIO. The worser welcome. `
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I have charged thee not to haunt about my doors. `
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In honest plainness thou hast heard me say `
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My daughter is not for thee; and now, in madness, `
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Being full of supper and distempering draughts, `
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Upon malicious bravery, dost thou come `
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To start my quiet. `
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RODERIGO. Sir, sir, sir- `
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BRABANTIO. But thou must needs be sure `
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My spirit and my place have in them power `
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To make this bitter to thee. `
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RODERIGO. Patience, good sir. `
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BRABANTIO. What tell'st thou me of robbing? This is Venice; `
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My house is not a grange. `
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RODERIGO. Most grave Brabantio, `
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In simple and pure soul I come to you. `
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IAGO. 'Zounds, sir, you are one of those that will not serve `
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God, `
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if the devil bid you. Because we come to do you service and `
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you `
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think we are ruffians, you'll have your daughter covered with `
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a `
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Barbary horse; you'll have your nephews neigh to you; you'll `
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have `
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coursers for cousins, and gennets for germans. `
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BRABANTIO. What profane wretch art thou? `
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IAGO. I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter and `
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the `
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Moor are now making the beast with two backs. `
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BRABANTIO. Thou are a villain. `
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IAGO. You are- a senator. `
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BRABANTIO. This thou shalt answer; I know thee, Roderigo. `
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RODERIGO. Sir, I will answer anything. But, I beseech you, `
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If't be your pleasure and most wise consent, `
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As partly I find it is, that your fair daughter, `
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At this odd-even and dull watch o' the night, `
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Transported with no worse nor better guard `
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But with a knave of common hire, a gondolier, `
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To the gross clasps of a lascivious Moor- `
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If this be known to you, and your allowance, `
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We then have done you bold and saucy wrongs; `
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But if you know not this, my manners tell me `
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We have your wrong rebuke. Do not believe `
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That, from the sense of all civility, `
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I thus would play and trifle with your reverence. `
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Your daughter, if you have not given her leave, `
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I say again, hath made a gross revolt, `
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Tying her duty, beauty, wit, and fortunes `
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In an extravagant and wheeling stranger `
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Of here and everywhere. Straight satisfy yourself: `
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If she be in her chamber or your house, `
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Let loose on me the justice of the state `
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For thus deluding you. `
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BRABANTIO. Strike on the tinder, ho! `
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Give me a taper! Call up all my people! `
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This accident is not unlike my dream; `
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Belief of it oppresses me already. `
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Light, I say, light! Exit `
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above. `
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IAGO. Farewell, for I must leave you. `
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