Othello, the Moor of Venice. Уильям Шекспир

      Truly, I think they are.

      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?

                                        Yes, sir, I have indeed.

      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?

      I think I can discover him, if you please

      To get good guard, and go along with me.

      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.

      Though in the trade of war I have slain men,

      Yet do I hold it very stuff o' the conscience

      To do no contrivèd murder: I lack iniquity

      Sometimes to do me service: nine or ten times

      I had thought to have yerk'd him here under the ribs.

      'Tis better as it is.

                                  Nay, but he prated,

      And spoke such scurvy and provoking terms

      Against your honor,

      That, with the little godliness I have,

      I did full hard forbear him. But, I pray you, sir,

      Are you fast married? Be assured of this,

      That the magnifico is much beloved;

      And hath, in his effect, a voice potential

      As double as the duke's: he will divorce you;

      Or put upon you what restraint and grievance

      The law, – with all his might to enforce it on, —

      Will give him cable.

                                       Let him do his spite:

      My services which I have done the signiory

      Shall out-tongue his complaints. 'Tis yet to know, —

      Which, when I know that boasting is an honor,

      I shall promulgate, – I fetch my life and being

      From men of royal siege; and my demerits

      May speak unbonneted to as proud a fortune

      As this that I have reach'd: for know, Iago,

      But that I love the gentle Desdemona,

      I would not my unhousèd free condition

      Put into circumscription and confine

      For the sea's worth. But, look! what lights come yond?

      Those are the raisèd father and his friends:

      You were best go in.

                                         Not I; I must be found;

      My parts, my title, and my perfect soul

      Shall manifest me rightly. Is it they?

      By Janus, I think no.

      The servants of the duke and my lieutenant. —

      The goodness of the night upon you, friends!

      What is the news?

                                     The duke does greet you, general;

      And he requires your haste-post-haste appearance

      Even on the instant.

                                       What is the matter, think you?

      Something from Cyprus, as I may divine:

      It is a business of some heat: the galleys

      Have sent a dozen sequent messengers

      This very night at one another's heels;

      And many of the consuls, rais'd and met,

      Are at the duke's already: you have been hotly call'd for;

      When, being not at your lodging to be found,

      The senate hath sent about three several quests

      To search you out.

      'Tis well I am found by you.

      I will but spend a word here in the house,

      And go with you.

                                      Ancient, what makes he here?

      Faith, he to-night hath boarded a land carack:

      If it prove lawful prize, he's made forever.

      I do not understand.

                                        He's married.

                                                                To who?

      Marry, to – Come, captain, will you go?