Othello

William Shakespeare

Description

Roderigo, a rich and dissolute gentleman, complaining to Iago, an ensign, that Iago has not told him about the secret marriage between Desdemona, the daughter of a Senator named Brabantio, and Othello, a Moorish general in the Venetian army. He is upset by this development because he loves Desdemona and had asked her father for her hand in marriage.

Informations

• Publié par: Interactive Media
• Date de parution: 15 septembre 2015
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781910833513
• Langue: English

Extrait

William Shakespeare

William Shakespeare
Othello
The Tragedy of Othello, the Moor of Venice



LONDON ∙ NEW YORK ∙ TORONTO ∙ SAO PAULO ∙ MOSCOW
PARIS ∙ MADRID ∙ BERLIN ∙ ROME ∙ MEXICO CITY ∙ MUMBAI ∙ SEOUL ∙ DOHA
TOKYO ∙ SYDNEY ∙ CAPE TOWN ∙ AUCKLAND ∙ BEIJING
New Edition
Published by Sovereign Classic
www.sovereignclassic.net
This Edition
First published in 2015
Copyright © 2015 Sovereign Classic
Contents
CAST
ACT I
ACT II
ACT III
ACT IV
ACT V
CAST
Brabantio, father to Desdemona
Cassio, an honourable lieutenant
Iago, a villain, [ancient or standard-bearer, and third in command to Othello]
Roderigo, a gulled gentleman
Duke of Venice
Senators
Montano, Governor of Cyprus
Gentlemen of Cyprus
Lodovico, Gratiano, two noble Venetians, [kinsmen to Brabantio]
Sailors
Clown, in Othello’s retinue
Desdemona, wife to Othello
Emilia, wife to Iago
Bianca, a courtesan
Messengers, Herald, Officers, Musicians, and Attendants
Scene: Venice and Cyprus
ACT I
SCENE I. VENICE. A STREET.
Enter RODERIGO and IAGO
RODERIGO
Tush! never te ll me; I take it much unkindly That thou, Iag o, who hast had my purse As if the stri ngs were thine, shouldst know of this.
IAGO
‘Sblood, but y ou will not hear me: If ever I did dream of such a matter, Abhor me.
RODERIGO
Thou told’st m e thou didst hold him in thy hate.
IAGO
Despise m e, if I do not. Three great ones of the city, In personal su it to make me his lieutenant, Off-capp’d to him: and, by the faith of man, I know my pric e, I am worth no worse a place: But he; as lov ing his own pride and purposes, Evades them, w ith a bombast circumstance Horribly stuff ’d with epithets of war; And, in conclu sion, Nonsuits my me diators; for, ‘Certes,’ says he, ‘I have alread y chose my officer.’ And what was h e? Forsooth, a gr eat arithmetician, One Michael Ca ssio, a Florentine, A fellow almos t damn’d in a fair wife; That never set a squadron in the field, Nor the divisi on of a battle knows More than a sp inster; unless the bookish theoric, Wherein the to ged consuls can propose As masterly as he: mere prattle, without practise, Is all his sol diership. 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 be-lee’d and calm’d By debitor and creditor: this counter-caster, He, in good ti me, must his lieutenant be, And I--God ble ss the mark!--his Moorship’s ancient.
RODERIGO
By he aven, I r ather would have been his hangman.
IAGO
Why, ther e’s n o remedy; ‘tis the curse of service, Preferment goe s 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 a ny just term am affined To love the Mo or.
RODERIGO
I wou ld not fo llow him then.
IAGO
O, sir, c onten t you; I follow him t o serve my turn upon him: We cannot all be masters, nor all masters Cannot be trul y follow’d. You shall mark Many a duteous and knee-crooking knave, That, doting o n his own obsequious bondage, Wears out his time, much like his master’s ass, For nought but provender, and when he’s old, cashier’d: Whip me such h onest knaves. Others there are Who, trimm’d i n 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 Moo r, I would not be Iago: In following h im, I follow but myself; Heaven is my j udge, not I for love and duty, But seeming so , for my peculiar end: For when my ou tward action doth demonstrate The native act and figure of my heart In compliment extern, ‘tis not long after But I will wea r my heart upon my sleeve For daws to pe ck at: I am not what I am.
RODERIGO
What a full fo rtune does the thicklips owe If he can carr y’t thus!
IAGO
Call up h er fa ther, Rouse him: mak e after him, poison his delight, Proclaim him i n the streets; incense her kinsmen, And, though he in a fertile climate dwell, Plague him wit h 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 fa ther’s house; I’ll call aloud.
IAGO
Do, with like timorous accent and dire yell As when, by ni ght and negligence, the fire Is spied in po pulous cities.
RODERIGO
What, ho, Brab antio! Signior Brabantio, ho!
IAGO
Awake! wh at, h o, Brabantio! thieves! thieves! thieves! Look to your h ouse, your daughter and your bags! Thieves! thiev es!
BRABANTIO appears above, at a window
BRABANTIO
What is the re ason of this terrible summons? What is the ma tter there?
RODERIGO
Signi or, is al l your family within?
IAGO
Are your doors lock’d?
BRABANTIO
Why, wherefore ask you this?
IAGO
‘Zounds, sir, you’re robb’d; for shame, put on your gown; You r heart is burst, you have lost half your soul; Even now, now, very now, an old black ram Is topping you r white ewe. Arise, arise; Awake the snor ting citizens with the bell, Or else the de vil 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 na me is Rod erigo.
BRABANTIO
The worser wel come: I have charged thee not to haunt about my doors: In honest plai nness 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 qu iet.
RODERIGO
Sir, sir, sir, --
BRABANTIO
But thou must needs be sure My spirit and my place have in them power To make this b itter to thee.
RODERIGO
Patie nce, good sir.
BRABANTIO
What tell’st t hou me of robbing? this is Venice; My house is no t a grange.
RODERIGO
Most grave Bra bantio, 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 daug hter covered with a Barbary horse; you’ll have yo ur nephews neigh to you; you’ll have coursers for c ousins and gennets for germans.
BRABANTIO
What profane w retch art thou?
IAGO
I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter and the Moor a re now making the beast with two backs.
BRABANTIO
Thou art a vil lain.
IAGO
You are-- a sen ator.
BRABANTIO
This thou shal t answer; I know thee, Roderigo.
RODERIGO
Sir, I will an swer any thing. But, I beseech you, If’t be your p leasure and most wise consent, As partly I fi nd it is, that your fair daughter, At this odd-ev en and dull watch o’ the night, Transported, w ith no worse nor better guard But with a kna ve of common hire, a gondolier, To the gross c lasps of a lascivious Moor-- If this be kno wn to you and your allowance, We then have d one you bold and saucy wrongs; But if you kno w not this, my manners tell me We have your w rong rebuke. Do not believe That, from the sense of all civility, I thus would p lay and trifle with your reverence: Your daughter, if you have not given her leave, I say again, h ath made a gross revolt; Tying her duty , beauty, wit and fortunes In an extravag ant and wheeling stranger Of here and ev ery where. Straight satisfy yourself: If she be in h er chamber or your house, Let loose on m e the justice of the state For thus delud ing you.
BRABANTIO
Stri ke on the tinder, ho! Give me a tape r! call up all my people! This accident is not unlike my dream: Belief of it o ppresses me already. Light, I say! light!
Exit above
IAGO
Farewell; for I must leave you: It seems not m eet, nor wholesome to my place, To be produced --as, if I stay, I shall-- Against the Mo or: for, I do know, the state, However this m ay gall him with some cheque, Cannot with sa fety cast him, for he’s embark’d With such loud reason to the Cyprus wars, Which even now stand in act, that, for their souls, Another of his fathom they have none, To lead their business: in which regard, Though I do ha te him as I do hell-pains. Yet, for neces sity of present life, I must show ou t a flag and sign of love, Which is indee d but sign. That you shall surely find him, Lead to the Sa gittary the raised search; And there will I be with him. So, farewell.
Exit
Enter, below, BRABANTIO, and Servants with torches
BRABANTIO
It i s too true an evil: gone she is; And what’s to come of my despised time Is nought but bitterness. Now, Roderigo, Where didst th ou see her? O unhappy girl! With the Moor, say’st thou? Who would be a father! How didst thou know ‘twas she? O she deceives me Past thought! What said she to you? Get more tapers: Raise all my k indred. Are they married, think you?
RODERIGO
Truly , I think they are.
BRABANTIO
O he aven! How got she out? O treason of the blood! Fathers, from hence trust not your daughters’ minds By what you se e them act. Is there not charms By which the p roperty of youth and maidhood May be abused? Have you not read, Roderigo, Of some such t hing?
RODERIGO
Yes, sir, I ha ve indeed.
BRABANTIO
Call up my bro ther. O, would you had had her! Some one way, some another. Do you know Where we may a pprehend her and the Moor?
RODERIGO
I thi nk I can discover him, if you please, To get good gu ard and go along with me.
BRABANTIO
Pray you, lead on. At every house I’ll call; I may command at most. Get weapons, ho! And raise some special officers of night. On, good Roder igo: I’ll deserve your pains.
Exeunt
SCENE II. ANOTHER STREET.
Enter OTHELLO, IAGO, and Attendants with torches
IAGO
Though in the trade of war I have slain men, Yet do I hold it very stuff o’ the conscience To do no contr ived murder: I lack iniquity Sometimes to d