---

Скачать книгу

---

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 forcèd 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,

       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:

       Wherein I spake of most disastrous chances,

       Of moving accidents by flood and field;

       Of hair-breadth scapes i’ the imminent deadly breach;

       Of being taken by the insolent foe,

       And sold to slavery; of my redemption thence,

       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,

       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 despatch,

       She’d 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,

       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,

       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;

       And bade me, if I had a friend that lov’d her,

       I should but teach him how to tell my story,

       And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake:

       She lov’d me for the dangers I had pass’d;

       And I lov’d her that she did pity them.

       This only is the witchcraft I have us’d:—

       Here comes the lady; let her witness it.

       [Enter Desdemona, Iago, and Attendants.]

       DUKE

       I think this tale would win my daughter too.—

       Good Brabantio,

       Take up this mangled matter at the best.

       Men do their broken weapons rather use

       Than their bare hands.

       BRABANTIO

       I pray you, hear her speak:

       If she confess that she was half the wooer,

       Destruction on my head, if my bad blame

       Light on the man!—Come hither, gentle mistress:

       Do you perceive in all this noble company

       Where most you owe obedience?

       DESDEMONA

       My noble father,

       I do perceive here a divided duty:

       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

       To you, preferring you before her father,

       So much I challenge that I may profess

       Due to the Moor, my lord.

       BRABANTIO

      

---

Скачать книгу