1 Sen. This cannot be, By no assay of reason; 'tis a pageant, That Rhodes is dress'd in:-if we make thought of this, We must not think, the Turk is so unskilful, Duke. Nay, in all confidence, he's not for Rhodes. Enter a Messenger. Mess. The Ottomites, reverend and gracious, Steering with due course toward the isle of Rhodes, Have there injointed them with an after-fleet. 1 Sen. Ay, so I thought:-How many, as you guess? Mess. Of thirty sail: and now do they re-stem Their backward course, bearing with frank appearance Their purposes towards 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 Lucchese, is he not in town? 1 Sen. He's now in Florence. Duke. Write from us; wish him post-post-haste: despatch. 1 Sen. Here comes Brabantio, and the valiant Moor. (1) Easy dispute. (2) State of defence. (3) Combat. Enter Brabantio, Othello, Iago, Roderigo, and Officers. Duke. Valiant Othello, we must straight employ you Against the general enemy Ottoman. me; Neither my place, nor aught I heard of business, Hath rais'd me from my bed; nor doth the general care Take hold on me; for my particular grief Duke. Sen. Bra. Dead? Ay, to me; She is abus'd, stol'n from me and corrupted By spells and medicines bought of mountebanks : Being not deficient, blind or lame of sense, Duke. Whoe'er he be, that, in this foul pro- Hath thus beguil'd your daughter of herself, After your own sense; yea, though our proper son 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. (1) Without. (2) Accusation. Duke & Sen. We are very sorry for it. Duke. What, in your own part, can you say to [To Othello. this? Bra. Nothing but, this is so. 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 my speech, And little bless'd with the set phrase of peace; For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith, Till now some nine moons wasted, they have us'd Their dearest action! in the tented field; And little of this great world can I speak, More than pertains to feats of broil and battle; And therefore little shall I grace my cause, In speaking for myself: Yet, by your gracious patience, I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver Of my whole course of love; what drugs, what charms, What conjuration, and what mighty magic For such proceeding I am charg'd withal,) won his daughter with. Bra. A maiden never bold; Of spirit so still and quiet, that her motion Blush'd at herself; And she,-in spite of nature, Of years, of country, credit, every thing,To fall in love with what she fear'd to look on? It is a judgment maim'd, and most imperfect, That will confess-perfection 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 conjur'd to this effect, He wrought upon her. (1) Best exertion. To vouch this, is no proof; Duke. Did you by indirect and forced courses Oth. Duke. Fetch Desdemona hither. Oth. Ancient, conduct them; you best know the place. [Exeunt Iago and Attendants. And, till she come, as truly as to heaven I do confess the vices of my blood, Duke. Say it, Othello. Oth. Her father lov'd me; oft invited me ; Still question'd me the story of my life, From year to year; the battles, sieges, fortunes, I ran it through, even from my boyish days, Of being taken by the insolent foe, And sold to slavery; of my redemption thence, (1) Open proof. (2) Weak show. (3) The sign of the fictitious creature so called. And portancel in my travel's history: Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads touch heaven, It was my hint to speak, such was the process; Would Desdemona seriously incline: But still the house-affairs would draw her thence; 'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful : She wish'd, she had not heard it; yet she wish'd That heaven had made her such a man: she thank'd me; And bade me, if I had a friend that lov'd her, (1) My behaviour. (3) Parts. (2) Caves and dens. (4) Intention and attention were once synony mous. |