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Sail. The Turkish preparation makes for Rhodes,
So was I bid report here to the state.
Duke. How say you by this change?
1 Sen. 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 th' abilities

That Rhodes is dressed 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. Offi. Here is more news.

Enter a Messenger.

Mes. The Ottomites (reverend and gracious,) Steering with due course towards the isle of Rhodes,

Have there enjoined them with an after-fleet▬▬ 1 Sen. Ay, so I thought; how many, as you guess?

Mes. Of thirty sail; and now they do re-stem (30) Their backward course, bearing with frank ap

pearance

Their purposes toward Cyprus. Signior Montano, Your trusty and most valiant servitor,

(30) If the north side of the moon be uppermost, Montano will have his prototype, I apprehend, in the strong shadow near her left hand margin, as drawn in

Fig. 101.

The cloven foot, as introduced in fig. 37, has the shape of the figure 3, and being situate upon Montano's shoulder may, with a round spot of light also there situate, constitute his number of thirty sail of gallies.

With his free duty, recommends you thus,
And prays you to believe him,

Duke. 'Tis certain then for Cyprus: Marcus

Is he not here in town? (31)

1 Sen. He's now in Florence.

[Luccicos,

[dispatch.

Duke. Write from us to him, post, post haste,

1 Sen. Here comes Brabantio, and the valiant

Moor.

To them, enter BRABANTIO, OTHELLO, CASSIO, IAGO, RODORIGO, and Officers.

Duke. Valiant Othello, we must straight employ Against the general enemy Ottoman.

[you, I did not see you; welcome, gentle signior: (32)

[To Bra. We lacked 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 raised me from my bed; nor doth the general
Take hold on me; for my particular grief
Is of so flood-gate and o'erbearing nature,
That it ingluts and swallows other sorrows,
And yet is still itself.

(31) Marcus Luccicos, his name may be derived from lux light, as of the moon.

(32) In respect of the situation of the duke, as above designated, Brabantio would in fact stand behind Othello, and thus be unseen by him.

Duke. Why, what's the matter?

Bra. My daughter! oh, my daughter!

Sen. Dead?.

Bra. To me;

She is abused, stolen 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-

[ing

Duke. Whoe'er he be that in this foul proceed

Hath thus beguiled 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 action.

Bra. 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.

All. We're very sorry for't.

Duke. What in your own part can you say to

this?

Bra. Nothing, but this is so.

[To Othel.

Oth. Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors, My very noble and approved 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 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 used
Their dearest action in the tented field;

And little of this great world can I speak,
More than pertains to feats of broils and battle;
And therefore little shall I grace my cause

In speaking for myself. Yet, by your patience,
I will a round unvarnished tale deliver, [charms,
Of my whole course of love; what drugs, what
What conjuration, and what mighty magic,
(For such proceeding I am charged withal,)
I won his daughter with.

Bra. A maiden, never bold;

Of spirit so still and quiet, that her motion
Blushed at itself; and she, in spite of nature,
Of years, of country, credit, every thing,

To fall in love with what she feared to look on-
It is a judgment maimed, and most imperfect, (13)
That will confess, affection 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, conjured to this effect,
He wrought upon her.

Duke. To vouch this is no proof,

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