Othello,The Moor of Venice(奥塞罗)

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THE TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, MOOR OF VENICE

OTHELLO, MOOR OF

VENICE

William Shakespeare

1605

THE TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, MOOR OF VENICE

Dramatis Personae

OTHELLO, the Moor, general of the Venetian forces DESDEMONA,

his wife IAGO, ensign to Othello EMILIA, his wife, lady--in--waiting to

Desdemona CASSIO, lieutenant to Othello THE DUKE OF VENICE

BRABANTIO, Venetian Senator, father of Desdemona GRATIANO,

nobleman of Venice, brother of Brabantio LODOVICO, nobleman of

Venice, kinsman of Brabantio RODERIGO, rejected suitor of Desdemona

BIANCA, mistress of Cassio MONTANO, a Cypriot official A Clown in

service to Othello Senators, Sailors, Messengers, Officers, Gentlemen,

Musicians, and Attendants

Scene: Venice and Cyprus

THE TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, MOOR OF VENICE

ACT I.

THE TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, MOOR OF VENICE

SCENE I. Venice. A street.

Enter Roderigo and Iago.

RODERIGO. Tush, never tell me! I take it much unkindly That thou,

Iago, who hast had my purse As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of

this. IAGO. 'Sblood, but you will 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. IAGO. Despise me, if I do not. Three great ones of the city, In

personal suit to make me his lieutenant, Off--capp'd 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 bumbast

circumstance Horribly stuff'd with epithets of war, And, in conclusion,

Nonsuits 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 damn'd 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 toged 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 belee'd and calm'd By debitor and creditor. This counter-

-caster, He, in good time, must his lieutenant be, And I--God bless the

mark!--his Moorship's ancient. 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, And not by 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 follow'd. 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 nought but provender, and when he's old,

cashier'd. Whip me such honest knaves. Others there are Who, trimm'd in

forms and visages of duty, Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves,

THE TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, MOOR OF VENICE

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't 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 color. 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! 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 lock'd? BRABANTIO. Why? Wherefore ask you this?

IAGO. 'Zounds, sir, you're robb'd! 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--

THE TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, MOOR OF VENICE

BRABANTIO. But thou must needs be sure My spirit and my place have

in them 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 gennets 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 are a villain. IAGO. You are--a senator.

BRABANTIO. This thou shalt answer; I know thee, Roderigo.

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. BRABANTIO. 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

above. IAGO. Farewell, for I must leave you. It seems not meet, nor

wholesome to my place, To be produced--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 embark'd 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

THE TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, MOOR OF VENICE

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 raised

search, And there will I be with him. So farewell. Exit.

Enter, below, Brabantio, in his nightgown, and Servants with torches.

BRABANTIO. It is too true an evil: gone she is, And what's to come

of my despised time Is nought but bitterness. Now, Roderigo, Where didst

thou 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 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, would 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

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 Roderigo,

I'll deserve your pains. Exeunt.

THE TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, MOOR OF VENICE

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THETRAGEDYOFOTHELLO,MOOROFVENICE1OTHELLO,MOOROFVENICEWilliamShakespeare1605THETRAGEDYOFOTHELLO,MOOROFVENICE2DramatisPersonaeOTHELLO,theMoor,generaloftheVenetianforcesDESDEMONA,hiswifeIAGO,ensigntoOthelloEMILIA,hiswife,lady--in--waitingtoDesdemonaCASSIO,lieutenanttoOthelloTHEDUKEOFVENICEBRABANTIO,Ven...

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Othello,The Moor of Venice(奥塞罗)

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