PERSONS REPRESENTED. The DUKE OF VENICE. BRABANTIO, a Senator. Other Senators. GRATIANO, brother to Brabantio. LUDOVICO, kinsman to Brabantio. OTHELLO, a noble Moor in the service of the Venetian State. CASSIO, his lieutenant. IAGO, his ancient. RODERIGO, a Venetian gentleman. MONTANO, Othello's predecessor in the government of Cyprus. CLOWN, servant to Othello. DESDEMONA, daughter to Brabantio, and wife to Othello. EMILIA, wife to Iago. BIANCA, mistress to Cassio. Sailor, Messenger, Herald, Officers, Gentlemen, SCENE, VENICE; and a Seaport in CYPRUS. OTHELLO, THE MOOR OF VENICE. ACT I. SCENE I.-Venice. A Street. Enter RODERIGO and IAGO. Roderigo. USH! never tell me; I take it much unkindly That thou, Iago, who hast had my purse As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this. Iago. But you'll not hear me. If ever I did dream Of such a matter, abhor me. Rod. Thou told'st me, thou didst hold him in thy hate. Iago. Despise me, if I do not. Three great ones of the city, In personal suit to make me his lieutenant, Horribly stuff'd with epithets of war ; Nonsuits my mediators; for, Certes, says he, Forsooth, a great arithmetician, More than a spinster; unless the bookish theoric, As masterly as he: mere prattle, without practice, Is all his soldiership. But he, sir, had the election : And I,-of whom his eyes had seen the proof By debitor and creditor: this counter-caster, And I,-bless the mark!-his Moorship's ancient. Rod. By heaven, I rather would have been his hangman. Iago. Why, there's no remedy, 'tis the curse of service; Preferment goes by letter and affection, And not by old gradation, where each second Stood heir to the first. Now, sir, be judge yourself, Whether I in any just term am affin'd To love the Moor. Rod. I would not follow him then. lago. O sir, content you; I follow him to serve my turn upon him : Whip me such honest knaves. Others there are Do well thrive by them, and, when they have lined their coats, Do themselves homage: these fellows have some soul; And such a one do I profess myself. For, sir, Were I the Moor I would not be Iago. If he can carry't thus ! Iago. Call up her father, Rouse him make after him, poison his delight, Proclaim him in the streets; incense her kinsmen, And though he in a fertile climate dwell, Plague him with flies: though that his joy be joy, Yet throw such chances of vexation on't, Rod. Here is her father's house; I'll call aloud. Iago. Do; with like timorous accent, and dire yell, As when (by night and negligence) the fire Rod. What, ho! Brabantio! signior Brabantio, ho! Iago. Awake; what, ho! Brabantio! thieves! thieves! Look to your house, your daughter, and your bags! Thieves thieves ! BRABANTIO appears above, at a window. Bra. What is the reason of this terrible summons? What is the matter there? Rod. Signior, is all your family within? Bra. Why? wherefore ask you this? Iago. Sir, you are robb'd; for shame put on your gown; Your heart is burst, you have lost half your soul; Bra. What, have you lost your wits? Rod. Most reverend signior, do you know my voice? Bra. Not I; what are you? Rod. My name is Roderigo. |