READ STUDY GUIDE: Act I, scenes i–ii |
|
Act I, Scene i:
Venice. A street.
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 be-lee'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 affin'd |
| 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; |
| And, throwing but shows of service on their lords, |
| Do well thrive by them, and when they have lin'd 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 locked? |
| 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,— |
| 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 from above.] |
| IAGO: |
| Farewell; for I must leave you: |
| It seems not meet nor wholesome to my place |
| To be produc'd,—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 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, and Servants with torches.] |
| BRABANTIO: |
| It is too true an evil: gone she is; |
| And what's to come of my despised time |
| Is naught 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.—Are 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.] |
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