The Complete Works of William Shakespeare Part 396

BRABANTIO. I'll not have it so.

OTh.e.l.lO. Nor I.

DESDEMONA. Nor I. I would not 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 To a.s.sist my simpleness.

DUKE. What would you, Desdemona?

DESDEMONA. That I did 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 Oth.e.l.lo'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 which I love him are bereft me, And I a heavy interim shall support By his dear absence. Let me go with him.

OTh.e.l.lO. Let her have your voices.

Vouch with me, heaven, I therefore beg it not To please the palate of my appet.i.te, 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-wing'd toys Of feather'd 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. The affair cries haste, And speed must answer't: you must hence tonight.

DESDEMONA. Tonight, my lord?

DUKE. This night.

OTh.e.l.lO. With all my heart.

DUKE. At nine i' the morning here we'll meet again.

Oth.e.l.lo, leave some officer behind, And he shall our commission bring to you, With such things else of quality and respect As doth import you.

OTh.e.l.lO. So please your Grace, my ancient; A man he is of honesty and trust.

To his conveyance I a.s.sign 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, n.o.ble 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.

Exeunt Duke, Senators, and Officers.

OTh.e.l.lO. My life upon her faith! 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.

Exeunt Oth.e.l.lo and Desdemona.

RODERIGO. Iago!

IAGO. What say'st thou, n.o.ble heart?

RODERIGO. What will I do, thinkest 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 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 preposterous conclusions.

But we have reason to cool our raging motions, our carnal stings, our unbitted l.u.s.ts; whereof I take this, that you call love, to be a sect or scion.

RODERIGO. It cannot be.

IAGO. It is merely a l.u.s.t 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, 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 acerb as the 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. If thou wilt needs d.a.m.n 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 h.e.l.l, 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 compa.s.sing 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' the 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; I'll go sell all my land. Exit.

IAGO. Thus do I ever make my fool my purse; For I mine own gain'd 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 He 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.

Ca.s.sio'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 Oth.e.l.lo'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 the nose As a.s.ses are.

I have't. It is engender'd. h.e.l.l and night Must bring this monstrous birth to the world's light.

Exit.

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ACT II. SCENE I.

A seaport in Cyprus. An open place near the quay.

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 ruffian'd 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 sh.o.r.e, 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 the ever-fixed pole.

I never did like molestation view On the enchafed flood.

MONTANO. If that the Turkish fleet Be not enshelter'd and embay'd, they are drown'd; It is impossible to bear it out.

Enter a third Gentleman.

THIRD GENTLEMAN. News, lads! Our wars are done.

The desperate tempest hath so bang'd the Turks, That their designment halts. A n.o.ble ship of Venice Hath seen a grievous wreck and sufferance On most part of their fleet.

MONTANO. How? Is this true?

THIRD GENTLEMAN. The ship is here put in, A Veronesa. Michael Ca.s.sio, Lieutenant to the warlike Moor, Oth.e.l.lo, Is come on sh.o.r.e; 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 Ca.s.sio, 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 heavens 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 Oth.e.l.lo, Even till we make the main and the aerial blue An indistinct regard.

THIRD GENTLEMAN. Come, let's do so, For every minute is expectancy Of more arrivance.

Enter Ca.s.sio.

Ca.s.sIO. 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. I she well shipp'd?

Ca.s.sIO. His bark is stoutly timber'd, and his pilot Of very expert and approved allowance; Therefore my hopes, not surfeited to death, Stand in bold cure.

A cry within, "A sail, a sail, a sail!"

Enter a fourth Gentleman.