Othello, the Moor of Venice. William Shakespeare

they do re-stem

       Their backward course, bearing with frank appearance

       Their purposes toward 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 Luccicos, is not he in town?

      FIRST SENATOR.

       He’s now in Florence.

      DUKE.

       Write from us to him; post-post-haste dispatch.

      FIRST SENATOR.

       Here comes Brabantio and the valiant Moor.

      Enter Brabantio, Othello, Iago, Roderigo and Officers.

      DUKE.

       Valiant Othello, we must straight employ you

       Against the general enemy Ottoman.

       [To Brabantio.] I did not see you; welcome, gentle signior, We lack’d your counsel and your help tonight.

      BRABANTIO.

       So did I yours. Good your grace, pardon 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

       Is of so flood-gate and o’erbearing nature

       That it engluts and swallows other sorrows,

       And it is still itself.

      DUKE.

       Why, what’s the matter?

      BRABANTIO.

       My daughter! O, my daughter!

      DUKE and SENATORS.

       Dead?

      BRABANTIO.

       Ay, to me.

       She is abused, stol’n 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.

      DUKE.

       Whoe’er he be, that in this foul proceeding,

       Hath thus beguil’d 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.

      BRABANTIO.

       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 are very sorry for ’t.

      DUKE.

       [To Othello.] What, in your own part, can you say to this?

      BRABANTIO.

       Nothing, but this is so.

      OTHELLO.

       Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors,

       My very noble and approv’d 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 soft 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 charged withal)

       I won his daughter.

      BRABANTIO.

       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, everything,

       To fall in love with what she fear’d to look on!

       It is judgement 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.

      DUKE.

       To vouch this is no proof;

       Without more wider and more overt test

       Than these thin habits and poor likelihoods

       Of modern seeming do prefer against him.

      FIRST SENATOR.

       But, Othello, speak:

       Did you by indirect and forced courses

       Subdue and poison this young maid’s affections?

       Or came it by request, and such fair question

       As soul to soul affordeth?

      OTHELLO.

       I do beseech you,

       Send for the lady to the Sagittary,

       And let her speak of me before her father.

       If you do find me foul in her report,

       The trust, the office I do hold of you,

       Not only take away, but let your sentence

       Even fall upon my life.

      DUKE.

       Fetch Desdemona hither.

      OTHELLO.

       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,

       So justly to your grave ears I’ll present

       How I did thrive in this fair lady’s love,

       And she in mine.

      DUKE.

       Say it, Othello.

      OTHELLO.

       Her father lov’d me, oft invited me,

       Still question’d me the story of my life,