Othello, William Shakespeare [best books for students to read .TXT] 📗

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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 call’d for;
When, being not at your lodging to be found,
The senate hath sent about three several guests
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. Exit.

Cassio Ancient, what makes he here? Iago

’Faith, he to-night hath boarded a land carack:
If it prove lawful prize, he’s made for ever.

Cassio I do not understand. Iago He’s married. Cassio To who? Re-enter Othello. Iago Marry, to⁠—Come, captain, will you go? Othello Have with you. Cassio Here comes another troop to seek for you. Iago

It is Brabantio. General, be advised;
He comes to bad intent.

Enter Brabantio, Roderigo, and Officers with torches and weapons. Othello Holla! stand there! Roderigo Signior, it is the Moor. Brabantio Down with him, thief! They draw on both sides. 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 stow’d my daughter?
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 shunned
The wealthy curled darlings of our nation,
Would ever have, to 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 practised on her with foul charms,
Abused 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 practiser
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. Where 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?

First 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,
Bond-slaves and pagans shall our statesmen be. Exeunt.

Scene III

A council-chamber.

The Duke and Senators sitting at a table; Officers attending. Duke

There is no composition in these news
That gives them credit.

First Senator

Indeed, they are disproportion’d;
My letters say a hundred and seven galleys.

Duke And mine, a hundred and forty. Second Senator

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! First Officer A messenger from the galleys. Enter a Sailor. 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.

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
The 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 the abilities
That Rhodes is dress’d in: if we make thought of this,
We must not think the Turk is so unskilful
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 Officer Here is more news. Enter a Messenger. Messenger

The Ottomites, reverend and gracious,
Steering with due course towards 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.

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, 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 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 flood-gate 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! Duke
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