Act 1

Act 1: Othello

Tis' twilight as noble Iago brings to attention of future trepidations amongst my newly betrotheds father. Even so, I fear not the future, but only pains of exploits amongst thines own past. But alas, henceforth comes lights throughout the night, who may this be, tis' only my trusted lieutenant brought about few ancients, I must say happiness comes upon me upon seeing his face for surely I felt my perfect soul come to the test. He's come a summon me to the duke, surely I dread that the war cyprus fairs ill but continues on and that I must now go off to war on the eve of mine wedding night. But what is this now cometh Brabantio, Roderigo, along with officers?! What treachery! Among me lies a traitor but I believe none capable of such a feat I must ponder upon this later as of now Brabantino rants on. Aye' it takes all of my might to not give the order and strike this man down the teary eyed wretch dares to accuse me of trickery as to my acquisition of his
daughters hand in marriage! The audacity of him! Does he know not that this mere MOOR is General?! Respect is due! But even still I shall be civil and take him to the Duke, there the verdict shall stand. As I stand in front of the duke a' his fellows I knew the war bode ill before my entering but now I learn of my deployment! Tis' shall not be the damper on my day, I'll speak the tale of mine innocence and have my love provide validity. Desdemona voice calms the fire in my bones, I feel as if I am relieving the very moments of her depictions, is this love? Her tale ends and Barbantino acknowledges though unorthodox of my means this moor is the love of his daughter and not the thief/witch as which I was portrayed to be! Desdemona speaks again asking to accompany me as I travel to cyrus no greater gift from heavens above could have befallen me as the Duke says yes a' dictates last of his will to be done I put charge of thine own wife in the good hands of
noble Iago upon my return, but as of now I celebrate with desdemona savoring the stolen hours....

                          -Othello