Othello Page #3

								


   Othel. Let him do his spight; My Seruices, which I haue done the Signorie Shall out-tongue his Complaints. 'Tis yet to know, Which when I know, that boasting is an Honour, I shall promulgate. I fetch my life and being, From Men of Royall Seige. And my demerites May speake (vnbonnetted) to as proud a Fortune As this that I haue reach'd. For know Iago, But that I loue the gentle Desdemona, I would not my vnhoused free condition Put into Circumscription, and Confine, For the Seas worth. But looke, what Lights come yond?

Enter Cassio, with Torches.

  Iago. Those are the raised Father, and his Friends: You were best go in

   Othel. Not I: I must be found. My Parts, my Title, and my perfect Soule Shall manifest me rightly. Is it they?
  Iago. By Ianus, I thinke no

   Othel. The Seruants of the Dukes? And my Lieutenant? The goodnesse of the Night vpon you (Friends) What is the Newes?
  Cassio. The Duke do's greet you (Generall) And he requires your haste, Post-haste appearance, Euen on the instant

   Othello. What is the matter, thinke you?
  Cassio. Something from Cyprus, as I may diuine: It is a businesse of some heate. The Gallies Haue sent a dozen sequent Messengers This very night, at one anothers heeles: And many of the Consuls, rais'd and met, Are at the Dukes already. You haue bin hotly call'd for, When being not at your Lodging to be found, The Senate hath sent about three seuerall Quests, To search you out

   Othel. 'Tis well I am found by you: I will but spend a word here in the house, And goe with you

   Cassio. Aunciant, what makes he heere?
  Iago. Faith, he to night hath boarded a Land Carract, If it proue lawfull prize, he's made for euer

   Cassio. I do not vnderstand

   Iago. He's married

   Cassio. To who?
  Iago. Marry to- Come Captaine, will you go?
  Othel. Haue with you

   Cassio. Here comes another Troope to seeke for you.

Enter Brabantio, Rodorigo, with Officers, and Torches.

  Iago. It is Brabantio: Generall be aduis'd, He comes to bad intent

   Othello. Holla, stand there

   Rodo. Signior, it is the Moore

   Bra. Downe with him, Theefe

   Iago. You, Rodorigo? Come Sir, I am for you

   Othe. Keepe vp your bright Swords, for the dew will rust them. Good Signior, you shall more command with yeares, then with your Weapons

   Bra. Oh thou foule Theefe, Where hast thou stow'd my Daughter? Damn'd as thou art, thou hast enchaunted her For Ile referre me to all things of sense, (If she in Chaines of Magick were not bound) Whether a Maid, so tender, Faire, and Happie, So opposite to Marriage, that she shun'd The wealthy curled Deareling of our Nation, Would euer haue (t' encurre a generall mocke) Run from her Guardage to the sootie bosome, Of such a thing as thou: to feare, not to delight? Iudge me the world, if 'tis not grosse in sense, That thou hast practis'd on her with foule Charmes, Abus'd her delicate Youth, with Drugs or Minerals, That weakens Motion. Ile haue'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 vpon him, if he do resist Subdue him, at his perill
								Rate this book:
3.4 / 5 votes