Home > Othello Text > Act I, Scene III - Page 2

DUKE:

Say it, Othello.

DUKE:

Tell it, Othello.

OTHELLO:

Her father loved me, oft invited me,(140)
Still question'd me the story of my life
From year to year, the battles, sieges, fortunes,
That I have pass'd.
I ran it through, even from my boyish days
To the very moment that he bade me tell it:(145)
Wherein I spake of most disastrous chances,
Of moving accidents by flood and field,
Of hairbreadth 'scapes i' the imminent deadly breach,
Of being taken by the insolent foe,
And sold to slavery, of my redemption thence,(150)
And portance in my travels' history;
Wherein of antres vast and deserts idle,
Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads touch heaven,
It was my hint to speak,— such was the process;
And of the Cannibals that each other eat,(155)
The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads
Do grow beneath their shoulders. This to hear
Would Desdemona seriously incline;
But still the house affairs would draw her thence,
Which ever as she could with haste dispatch,(160)
She'ld come again, and with a greedy ear
Devour up my discourse; which I observing,
Took once a pliant hour, and found good means
To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart
That I would all my pilgrimage dilate,(165)
Whereof by parcels she had something heard,
But not intentively. I did consent,
And often did beguile her of her tears
When I did speak of some distressful stroke
That my youth suffer'd. My story being done,(170)
She gave me for my pains a world of sighs;
She swore, in faith, 'twas strange, 'twas passing strange;
'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful.
She wish'd she had not heard it, yet she wish'd
That heaven had made her such a man; she thank'd me,(175)
And bade me, if I had a friend that loved her,
I should but teach him how to tell my story,
And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake:
She loved me for the dangers I had pass'd,
And I loved her that she did pity them.(180)
This only is the witchcraft I have used.
Here comes the lady; let her witness it.

OTHELLO:

Her father loved me, often invited me;
Still questioned me the story of my life,
From year to year, the battles, sieges, fortunes,
That I have been in.
I ran through it, even from my childhood days
To the very moment that he asked me tell it.
I spoke of very disastrous bad luck,
Of moving accidents by flood and field;
Of hair-breadth escapes in the imminent deadly battle;
Of being taken prisoner by the strange enemy,
And sold into slavery; of my redemption then,
And behavior in the story of my travels.
It was my habit to speak about vast caves and idle
Deserts, rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads
Touch heaven. That was the way it went;
And about the Cannibals that eat each other,
The Man-Eaters, and men whose heads
Grow beneath their shoulders. To hear this,
Desdemona would seriously listen,
But still the house affairs would draw her away,
Which she would finish in a great hurry, and
She’d come again, and eat up my stories
With a greedy ear, which I observing,
Once I took a rare hour; and found good ways
To draw a prayer of earnest enthusiasm from her
So that I would lengthen all my stories,
Which she had already heard bits and pieces of,
But not all of them. I agreed
And often I cheated her of her tears,
When I spoke of some distressful event
I had suffered in my youth. My story being done,
She gave me a world of sighs for my pains.
She swore, really, it was strange, it was passing strange;
It was pitiful, it was wondrously pitiful.
She wished she had not heard it, still she wished
That heaven made her such a man. She thanked me;
And begged me, that if I had a friend that loved her,
I should only teach him how to tell my story,
And that would court her. On this hint I spoke.
She loved me for the dangers I had passed;
And I loved her that she pitied them.
This is the only witchcraft I have used.
Here comes the lady; let her verify it.

Enter Desdemona, Iago, and the rest.

DUKE:

I think this tale would win my daughter too.
Good Brabantio,
Take up this mangled matter at the best:(185)
Men do their broken weapons rather use
Than their bare hands.

DUKE:

I think this tale would win my daughter too.
Good Brabantio,
Consider this mess at its best.
Men would rather use their broken weapons
Than their bare hands.

BRAB:

I pray you, hear her speak:
If she confess that she was half the wooer,
Destruction on my head, if my bad blame(190)
Light on the man! Come hither, gentle mistress:
Do you perceive in all this noble company
Where most you owe obedience?

BRAB:

I beg you, hear her speak.
If she confesses that she was half the lover,
Destruction on my head, if I falsely
Accuse the man! Come here, gentle mistress.
Do you see in all this noble company
To whom you owe the very obedience?

DESD:

My noble father,
I do perceive here a divided duty.(195)
To you I am bound for life and education;
My life and education both do learn me
How to respect you; you are the lord of duty,
I am hitherto your daughter. But here's my husband,
And so much duty as my mother show'd(200)
To you, preferring you before her father,
So much I challenge that I may profess
Due to the Moor, my lord.

DESD:

My noble father,
I see a divided duty here.
To you I am bound for my life and education;
My life and education both teach me
How to respect you; you are the lord of duty,
I am therefore your daughter. But here's my husband;
And as much duty as my mother showed
To you, preferring you before her father,
So much I dispute that I may profess
Due to the Moor, my lord.

BRAB:

God be with you! I have done.
Please it your Grace, on to the state affairs;(205)
I had rather to adopt a child than get it.
Come hither, Moor:
I here do give thee that with all my heart
Which, but thou hast already, with all my heart
I would keep from thee. For your sake, jewel,(210)
I am glad at soul I have no other child;
For thy escape would teach me tyranny,
To hang clogs on them. I have done, my lord.

BRAB:

God be with you! I’m done.
Please your grace, go on with state affairs.
I’d rather to adopt a child than father it.
Come here, Moor.
I here give you that with all my heart
That, except you already have it, I would keep from you
With all my heart . For your sake, jewel,
I am glad at soul I have no other child,
Because your escape would teach me tyranny,
To hang logs on them. I’m done, my lord.

DUKE:

Let me speak like yourself, and lay a sentence
Which, as a grise or step, may help these lovers(215)
Into your favor.
When remedies are past, the griefs are ended
By seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended.
To mourn a mischief that is past and gone
Is the next way to draw new mischief on.(220)
What cannot be preserved when fortune takes,
Patience her injury a mockery makes.
The robb'd that smiles steals something from the thief;
He robs himself that spends a bootless grief.

DUKE:

Let me speak as you would; and lay a sentence
Which, as a grace or step, may help these lovers
Into your favor.
When remedies are too late, griefs are ended
By seeing the worst, which hopes lately depended on.
To mourn mischief that is over and gone
Is the next way to create new mischief.
What cannot be preserved when fortune takes it,
Patience makes a mockery of her injury.
The victim that smiles steals something from the thief;
He robs himself that spends a unprofitable grief.

BRAB:

So let the Turk of Cyprus us beguile;(225)
We lose it not so long as we can smile.
He bears the sentence well, that nothing bears
But the free comfort which from thence he hears;
But he bears both the sentence and the sorrow
That, to pay grief, must of poor patience borrow.(230)
These sentences, to sugar or to gall,
Being strong on both sides, are equivocal.
But words are words; I never yet did hear
That the bruised heart was pierced through the ear.
I humbly beseech you, proceed to the affairs of state.(235)

BRAB:

So let the Turk of Cyprus cheat us;
We don’t lose it as long as we can smile;
He takes the sentence well, that shows nothing
But the free comfort which he hears from it;
Only he bears both the sentence and the sorrow
That must be borrowed from poor patience to pay grief.
These sentences, to sweetness or to bitterness,
Being strong on both sides, are equal.
But words are words. I haven’t yet heard
That the bruised heart was pierced through the ear.
I humbly beg you, proceed to the affairs of state.

DUKE:

The Turk with a most mighty preparation makes for
Cyprus. Othello, the fortitude of the place is best
known to you; and though we have there a substitute of
most allowed sufficiency, yet opinion, a sovereign
mistress of effects, throws a more safer voice on you. You(240)
must therefore be content to slubber the gloss of your
new fortunes with this more stubborn and boisterous
expedition.

DUKE:

The Turk with very mighty preparation makes for Cyprus.
Othello, the strength of the place is best known to you;
and although we have there a force that is more than
adequate, yet public opinion, a sovereign mistress of
effects, say we need a safer voice, like you. You must
therefore be content to conceal the gloss of your new
fortunes with this more stubborn and violent expedition.

OTHELLO:

The tyrant custom, most grave senators,
Hath made the flinty and steel couch of war(245)
My thrice driven bed of down. I do agnize
A natural and prompt alacrity
I find in hardness; and do undertake
These present wars against the Ottomites.
Most humbly therefore bending to your state,(250)
I crave fit disposition for my wife,
Due reference of place and exhibition,
With such accommodation and besort
As levels with her breeding.

OTHELLO:

The dictator, custom, very grave senators,
Has made the stone and steel couch of war
My feather bed three times. I recognize
A natural and prompt speed that
I find in hardness, and undertake
These present wars against the Ottoman.
Very humbly, therefore, bowing to your state,
I’d like proper provisions for my wife,
Proper respect for housing and subsidy,
With such accommodation and suitable company
As is equal with her breeding.

DUKE:

If you please,(255)
Be't at her father's.

DUKE:

If you please,
Let it be at her father's.

BRAB:

I'll not have it so.

BRAB:

If you please,
Let it be at her father's.

OTHELLO:

Nor I.

OTHELLO:

Nor I.

DESD:

Nor I. I would not there reside
To put my father in impatient thoughts(260)
By being in his eye. Most gracious Duke,
To my unfolding lend your prosperous ear.

DESD:

Nor I. I would not live there,
To put my father into violent thoughts,
By being always in his sight. Very gracious duke,
Listen with a gracious ear to my request,
And let me find a contract in your voice
To assist my simpleness.

DUKE:

What would you, Desdemona?

DUKE:

What would you have, Desdemona?

DESD:

That I did love the Moor to live with him,
My downright violence and storm of fortunes(265)
May trumpet to the world. My heart's subdued
Even to the very quality of my lord:
I saw Othello's visage in his mind,
And to his honors and his valiant parts
Did I my soul and fortunes consecrate.(270)
So that, dear lords, if I be left behind,
A moth of peace, and he go to the war,
The rites for which I love him are bereft me,
And I a heavy interim shall support
By his dear absence. Let me go with him.(275)

DESD:

That I loved the Moor to live with him,
My downright violence and storm of fortunes
May shout to the world. My heart's overcome,
Even to the very quality of my lord.
I saw Othello's face in his mind,
And I consecrated my soul and fortunes
To his honors and his valiant parts.
So much so, dear lords, if I am left behind,
A moth of peace, and he goes to the war,
The rites for which I love him I am deprived of,
And I shall endure a sad interval caused
By his dear absence. Let me go with him.