LIST OF CHARACTERS
DUKE OF VENICE
BRABANTIO a Senator, father to Desdemona
GRATIANO brother to Brabantio, a noble Venetian
LODOVICO kinsman to Brabantio, a noble Venetian
CASSIO Othello’s honourable lieutenant
IAGO Othello’s standard‑bearer or ensign, a villain
RODERIGO a gulled Venetian gentleman
MONTANO Governor of Cyprus
CLOWN Othello’s servant
DESDEMONA daughter to Brabantio, and wife to Othello
EMILIA wife to Iago
BIANCA a courtesan, in love with Cassio Senators of Venice, Gentlemen of Cyprus, Sailors, Officers, a Messenger, Musicians, a Herald, Servants and Attendants, etc.
ACT 1 Scene 1
Venice – a street
[Enter RODERIGO and IAGO.]
RODERIGO
Tush, never tell me! I take it much unkindly That thou, Iago, who has had my purse
As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this.
IAGO
’Sblood, but you’ll not hear me.
If ever I did dream of such a matter, Abhor me.
RODERIGO
Thou told’st me thou didst hold him in thy hate.
Despise me if I do not. Three great ones of the city,
In personal suit to make me his lieutenant, Off‑capped to him; and by the faith of man, I know my price, I am worth no worse a place. But he, as loving his own pride and purposes, Evades them with a bombast circumstance, Horribly stuffed with epithets of war, And in conclusion, Non‑suits my mediators. For ‘Certes,’ says he, ‘I have already chose my officer.’
And what was he?
Forsooth, a great arithmetician,
One Michael Cassio, a Florentine, A fellow almost damned in a fair wife,
That never set a squadron in the field, Nor the division of a battle knows
More than a spinster; unless the bookish theoric, Wherein the togèd consuls can propose
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
At Rhodes, at Cyprus, and on other grounds, Christian and heathen, must be beleed and calmed
By debitor and creditor. This counter‑caster, He, in good time, must his lieutenant be, And I – God bless the mark! – his Moorship’s ensign.
RODERIGO
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, Not by the old gradation, where each second Stood heir to the first. Now, sir, be judge yourself Whether I in any just term am affined To love the Moor.
RODERIGO
I would not follow him then.
IAGO
O, sir, content you. I follow him to serve my turn upon him.
We cannot all be masters, nor all masters Cannot be truly followed. You shall mark Many a duteous and knee‑crooking knave That, doting on his own obsequious bondage, Wears out his time, much like his master’s ass, For naught but provender; and when he’s old, cashiered.
Whip me such honest knaves. Others there are Who, trimmed in forms and visages of duty, Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves, And, throwing but shows of service on their lords, 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,
It is as sure as you are Roderigo, Were I the Moor, I would not be Iago. In following him, I follow but myself. Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty, But seeming so for my peculiar end. For when my outward action doth demonstrate The native act and figure of my heart
In complement extern, ’tis not long after
But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve
For daws to peck at. I am not what I am.
RODERIGO
What a full fortune does the thick‑lips owe, If he can carry it 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 changes of vexation on’t
As it may lose some colour.
RODERIGO
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 Is spied in populous cities.
RODERIGO
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.]
BRABANTIO
What is the reason of this terrible summons?
What is the matter there?
RODERIGO
Signior, is all your family within?
IAGO
Are your doors locked?
BRABANTIO
Why, wherefore ask you this?
IAGO
Zounds, sir, you’re robbed; for shame, put on your gown; Your heart is burst; you have lost half your soul. Even now, now, very now, an old black ram Is tupping your white ewe. Arise, arise; Awake the snorting citizens with the bell, Or else the devil will make a grandsire of you. Arise, I say!
BRABANTIO
What, have you lost your wits?
RODERIGO
Most reverend signior, do you know my voice?
BRABANTIO
Not I; what are you?
RODERIGO
My name is Roderigo.
BRABANTIO
The worser welcome! I have charged thee not to haunt about my doors;
In honest plainness thou hast heard me say My daughter is not for thee. And now in madness,
Being full of supper and distempering draughts, Upon malicious bravery dost thou come
To start my quiet.
RODERIGO
Sir, sir, sir—
BRABANTIO
But thou must needs be sure My spirit and my place have in their power
To make this bitter to thee.
RODERIGO
Patience, good sir.
BRABANTIO
What tell’st thou me of robbing? This is Venice; My house is not a grange.
RODERIGO
Most grave Brabantio,
In simple and pure soul I come to you.
IAGO
Zounds, sir; you are one of those that will not serve God if the devil bid you. Because we come to do you service, and you think we are ruffians, you’ll have your daughter covered with a Barbary horse; you’ll have your nephews neigh to you; you’ll have coursers for cousins and jennets for germans.
BRABANTIO
What profane wretch art thou?
IAGO
I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter and the Moor are now making the beast with two backs.
BRABANTIO
Thou art a villain.
IAGO
You are a Senator.
BRABANTIO
This thou shalt answer; I know thee, Roderigo.
Sir, I will answer anything. But I beseech you, If’t be your pleasure and most wise consent –As partly I find it is – that your fair daughter, At this odd‑even and dull watch o’the night, Transported with no worse nor better guard
But with a knave of common hire, a gondolier, To the gross clasps of a lascivious Moor; If this be known to you, and your allowance, We then have done you bold and saucy wrongs. But if you know not this, my manners tell me
We have your wrong rebuke. Do not believe That from the sense of all civility I thus would play and trifle with your reverence. Your daughter, if you have not given her leave, I say again, hath made a gross revolt; Tying her duty, beauty, wit and fortunes
In an extravagant and wheeling stranger
Of here and everywhere. Straight satisfy yourself. If she be in her chamber or your house, Let loose on me the justice of the state
For thus deluding you.
Strike on the tinder, ho!
Give me a taper; call up all my people. This accident is not unlike my dream.
Belief of it oppresses me already.
Light, I say, light!
[Exit BRABANTIO above.]
IAGO
Farewell, for I must leave you. It seems not meet nor wholesome to my place
To be producted – as if I stay I shall –
Against the Moor. For I do know the state, However this may gall him with some check, Cannot with safety cast him; for he’s embarked With such loud reason to the Cyprus wars, Which even now stands in act, that, for their souls,
Another of his fathom they have none
To lead their business; in which regard, Though I do hate him as I do hell pains, Yet, for necessity of present life, I must show out a flag and sign of love,
Which is indeed but sign. That you shall surely find him,
Lead to the Sagittary the raisèd search; And there will I be with him. So farewell.
[Exit IAGO.]
[Enter BRABANTIO below, in his nightgown, and SERVANTS with torches.]
BRABANTIO
It is too true an evil. Gone she is;
And what’s to come of my despisèd time
Is nought but bitterness. Now, Roderigo, Where didst thou see her?—O unhappy girl!—
With the Moor, sayest thou?—Who would be a father?—
How didst thou know ’twas she?—O, she deceivest me
Past thought!—What said she to you?—Get more tapers;
Raise all my kindred.—Are they married, think you?
RODERIGO
Truly, I think they are.
BRABANTIO
O heaven! How got she out? O treason of the blood!
Fathers, from hence trust not your daughters’ minds
By what you see them act. Is there not charms
By which the property of youth and maidhood
May be abused? Have you not read, Roderigo, Of some such thing?
RODERIGO
Yes, sir, I have indeed.
BRABANTIO
Call up my brother.—O that you had had her!—
Some one way, some another.—Do you know Where we may apprehend her and the Moor?
RODERIGO
I think I can discover him, if you please To get good guard and go along with me.
BRABANTIO
Pray lead me on. At every house I’ll call; I may command at most.—Get weapons, ho!
And raise some special officers of night.—
On, good Roderigo; I’ll deserve your pains. [Exeunt.]
