HAM/THELLO: the moor of denmark
                                                         copyright © 2006 Jeff Goode


                               ACT I - The Ghost on the Platform

           SCENE 1 - Elsinore.  A Platform before the castle.
                  FRANCISCO at his post. Enter to him IAGO.
           IAGO 
              Who's there?
           FRANCISCO
              Iago?
           IAGO 
              He.
              'Tis now struck twelve; get thee to bed, Francisco.
           FRANCISCO
              For this relief much thanks: 'tis bitter cold, 
              And I am sick at heart.
           IAGO 
              If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus,
              The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste.
           FRANCISCO
              Long live the king!
           IAGO
                                Long live good King Othello.
                                                             Exit FRANCISCO
                  Enter BIANCA, partly disguised as a Ghost.  
           BIANCA 
              Thou told'st me thou didst hold him in thy hate.
                  IAGO helps BIANCA into the rest of the GHOST costume.
           IAGO
              I have told thee often, and I re-tell thee again and again, I hate the Moor:  
              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 bombast 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 politician, 
              Prince Hamlet son of King Othello's Queen.
              He, in good time, must his lieutenant be, 
              And I--God bless the mark!--his Moorship's ancient.
           BIANCA 
              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.  So now, be judge yourself, 
              Whether I in any just term am affined
              To love the Moor.
           BIANCA 
              I would not follow him then.
           IAGO
                                 O, sooth, content you;
              I follow him to serve my turn upon him:
              For when my outward action doth demonstrate 
              The native act and figure of my heart 
              In compliment 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.
           BIANCA 
              What a full fortune does the thicklips owe
              If he can carry't thus!
           IAGO
              My cause is hearted; thine hath no less reason. 
              Let us be conjunctive in our revenge against him.
           BIANCA 
              I think I hear them.
           IAGO
                                  You were best go in.
              Thou art sure of me:--go, make mischief.
                                                                Exit BIANCA
              Alas, poor rogue! I think, i' faith, she loves me.
              While I mine own gain'd knowledge should profane, 
              If I would time expend with such a snipe 
              But for my sport and profit. 
                  Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS
              Stand, ho! Who's there? 
           HORATIO
              Friends to this ground.
           MARCELLUS
                                And liegemen to the Moor.
           IAGO 
              What, is Horatio there?
           HORATIO
                                    A piece of him.
           IAGO 
              Welcome, Horatio: welcome, good Marcellus.
           MARCELLUS
              What, has this thing appear'd again to-night?
           HORATIO
              Tush, tush, 'twill not appear.
           IAGO 
                                   Sit down awhile;
              And let us once again assail your ears,
              That are so fortified against our story
              What we have two nights seen.
                  Enter [BIANCA disguised as] a GHOST
           MARCELLUS
              Peace, break thee off; look, where it comes again!
           IAGO 
              In the same figure, like the king that's dead.
           MARCELLUS
              Thou art a scholar; speak to it, Horatio.
           IAGO 
              Looks it not like the king? mark it, Horatio.
           HORATIO
              What art thou that usurp'st this time of night, 
              Together with that fair and warlike form 
              In which the majesty of buried Denmark 
              Did sometimes march? by heaven I charge thee, speak!
           MARCELLUS
              It is offended.
           IAGO 
                                   See, it stalks away!
           HORATIO
              Stay! speak, speak! I charge thee, speak! 
                                                                Exit GHOST
           IAGO 
              How now, Horatio! you tremble and look pale: 
              Is not this something more than fantasy? 
           HORATIO
              Before my God, I might not this believe 
              Without the sensible and true avouch 
              Of mine own eyes.
              In what particular thought to work I know not; 
              But in the gross and scope of my opinion, 
              This bodes some strange eruption to our state.
           IAGO 
              Well may it sort that this portentous figure 
              Comes armèd through our watch; so like the king
              That was and is the question of these wars.
           HORATIO
              A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye. 
              But soft, behold! lo, where it comes again! 
                                                              Re-enter GHOST
              I'll cross it, though it blast me. Stay, illusion!
                                                                 Cock crows
              If thou art privy to thy country's fate,
              Which, happily, foreknowing may avoid, O, speak!
              Speak of it: stay, and speak! Stop it, Marcellus.
           MARCELLUS
              Shall I strike at it with my partisan?
           HORATIO
              Do, if it will not stand.
           MARCELLUS 
              'Tis here!
           IAGO 
              'Tis here!
           HORATIO 
              'Tis gone!
                                                                Exit GHOST
           IAGO 
              It was about to speak, when the cock crew.
           HORATIO
              Let us impart what we have seen to-night 
              Unto young Hamlet; for, upon my life, 
              This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him. 
           MARCELLUS
              Let's do't, I pray; and I this morning know 
              Where we shall find him most conveniently. 
           IAGO 
              Pray you, lead on.
                                                                    Exeunt

Forth!