SCENE I. Cyprus. Before the
Castle.
[Enter Othello and Iago.]
IAGO.
Will you think so?
OTHELLO.
Think so, Iago?
IAGO.
What,
To kiss in private?
OTHELLO.
An unauthoriz'd kiss.
IAGO.
Or to be naked with her friend
in bed
An hour or more, not meaning
any harm?
OTHELLO.
Naked in bed, Iago, and not mean
harm!
It is hypocrisy against the devil:
They that mean virtuously and
yet do so,
The devil their virtue tempts,
and they tempt heaven.
IAGO.
So they do nothing, 'tis a venial
slip:
But if I give my wife a handkerchief,--
OTHELLO.
What then?
IAGO.
Why, then, 'tis hers, my lord,
and being hers,
She may, I think, bestow't on
any man.
OTHELLO.
She is protectress of her honour
too:
May she give that?
IAGO.
Her honour is an essence that's
not seen;
They have it very oft that have
it not:
But, for the handkerchief,--
OTHELLO.
By heaven, I would most gladly
have forgot it:--
Thou said'st,--O, it comes o'er
my memory,
As doth the raven o'er the infected
house,
Boding to all,--he had my handkerchief.
IAGO.
Ay, what of that?
OTHELLO.
That's not so good now.
IAGO.
What,
If I had said I had seen him
do you wrong?
Or heard him say,--as knaves
be such abroad,
Who having, by their own importunate
suit,
Or voluntary dotage of some mistress,
Convinced or supplied them, cannot
choose
But they must blab,--
OTHELLO.
Hath he said anything?
IAGO.
He hath, my lord; but be you
well assur'd,
No more than he'll unswear.
OTHELLO.
What hath he said?
IAGO.
Faith, that he did,--I know not
what he did.
OTHELLO.
What? what?
IAGO.
Lie,--
OTHELLO.
With her?
IAGO.
With her, on her, what you will.
OTHELLO.
Lie with her! lie on her!--We
say lie on her when they
belie her.--Lie with her! that's
fulsome.--Handkerchief-
-confessions--handkerchief!--To
confess, and be hanged
for his labour,--first, to be
hanged, and then to confess.--I
tremble at it. Nature would not
invest herself in such shadowing
passion without some instruction.
It is not words that shake me
thus:--pish!--noses, ears, and
lips.--Is't possible?--Confess,--
handkerchief!--O devil!--
[Falls in a trance.]
IAGO.
Work on,
My medicine, work! Thus credulous
fools are caught;
And many worthy and chaste dames
even thus,
All guiltless, meet reproach.--What,
ho! my lord!
My lord, I say! Othello!
[Enter Cassio.]
How now, Cassio!
CASSIO.
What's the matter?
IAGO.
My lord is fallen into an epilepsy:
This is his second fit; he had
one yesterday.
CASSIO.
Rub him about the temples.
IAGO.
No, forbear;
The lethargy must have his quiet
course:
If not, he foams at mouth, and
by and by
Breaks out to savage madness.
Look, he stirs:
Do you withdraw yourself a little
while,
He will recover straight: when
he is gone,
I would on great occasion speak
with you.
[Exit Cassio.]
How is it, general? have you
not hurt your head?
OTHELLO.
Dost thou mock me?
IAGO.
I mock you! no, by heaven.
Would you would bear your fortune
like a man!
OTHELLO.
A horned man's a monster and
a beast.
IAGO.
There's many a beast, then, in
a populous city,
And many a civil monster.
OTHELLO.
Did he confess it?
IAGO.
Good sir, be a man;
Think every bearded fellow that's
but yok'd
May draw with you: there's millions
now alive
That nightly lie in those unproper
beds
Which they dare swear peculiar:
your case is better.
O, 'tis the spite of hell, the
fiend's arch-mock,
To lip a wanton in a secure couch,
And to suppose her chaste! No,
let me know;
And knowing what I am, I know
what she shall be.
OTHELLO.
O, thou art wise; 'tis certain.
IAGO.
Stand you awhile apart;
Confine yourself but in a patient
list.
Whilst you were here o'erwhelmed
with your grief,--
A passion most unsuiting such
a man,--
Cassio came hither: I shifted
him away,
And laid good 'scuse upon your
ecstasy;
Bade him anon return, and here
speak with me;
The which he promis'd. Do but
encave yourself,
And mark the fleers, the gibes,
and notable scorns,
That dwell in every region of
his face;
For I will make him tell the
tale anew,--
Where, how, how oft, how long
ago, and when
He hath, and is again to cope
your wife:
I say, but mark his gesture.
Marry, patience;
Or I shall say you are all in
all in spleen,
And nothing of a man.
OTHELLO.
Dost thou hear, Iago?
I will be found most cunning
in my patience;
But,--dost thou hear?--most bloody.
IAGO.
That's not amiss;
But yet keep time in all. Will
you withdraw?
[Othello withdraws.]
Now will I question Cassio of
Bianca,
A housewife that, by selling
her desires,
Buys herself bread and clothes:
it is a creature
That dotes on Cassio,--as 'tis
the strumpet's plague
To beguile many and be beguil'd
by one:--
He, when he hears of her, cannot
refrain
From the excess of laughter:--here
he comes:--
As he shall smile Othello shall
go mad;
And his unbookish jealousy must
construe
Poor Cassio's smiles, gestures,
and light behavior
Quite in the wrong.
[Re-enter Cassio.]
How do you now, lieutenant?
CASSIO.
The worser that you give me the
addition
Whose want even kills me.
IAGO.
Ply Desdemona well, and you are
sure on't.
Now, if this suit lay in Bianca's
power, [Speaking lower.]
How quickly should you speed!
CASSIO.
Alas, poor caitiff!
OTHELLO.
[Aside.] Look, how he laughs
already!
IAGO.
I never knew a woman love man
so.
CASSIO.
Alas, poor rogue! I think, i'faith,
she loves me.
OTHELLO.
[Aside.] Now he denies it faintly
and laughs it out.
IAGO.
Do you hear, Cassio?
OTHELLO.
[Aside.] Now he importunes him
To tell it o'er: go to; well
said, well said.
IAGO.
She gives it out that you shall
marry her:
Do you intend it?
CASSIO.
Ha, ha, ha!
OTHELLO.
[Aside.] Do you triumph, Roman?
do you triumph?
CASSIO.
I marry her!--what? A customer!
I pr'ythee, bear some
charity to my wit; do not think
it so unwholesome:--ha, ha, ha!
OTHELLO.
[Aside.] So, so, so, so: they
laugh that win.
IAGO.
Faith, the cry goes that you
shall marry her.
CASSIO.
Pr'ythee, say true.
IAGO.
I am a very villain else.
OTHELLO.
[Aside.] Have you scored me?
Well.
CASSIO.
This is the monkey's own giving
out: she is persuaded I
will marry her, out of her own
love and flattery, not out of
my promise.
OTHELLO.
[Aside.] Iago beckons me; now
he begins the story.
CASSIO.
She was here even now; she haunts
me in every place. I
was the other day talking on
the sea bank with certain Venetians,
and thither comes the bauble,
and falls thus about my neck,--
OTHELLO.
[Aside.] Crying, "O dear
Cassio!" as it were: his
gesture imports
it.
CASSIO.
So hangs, and lolls, and weeps
upon me; so hales and
pulls me: ha, ha, ha!
OTHELLO.
[Aside.] Now he tells how she
plucked him to my chamber.
O, I see
that nose of yours, but not that
dog I shall throw it to.
CASSIO.
Well, I must leave her company.
IAGO.
Before me! look where she comes.
CASSIO.
'Tis such another fitchew! marry,
a perfumed one.
[Enter Bianca.]
What do you mean by this haunting
of me?
BIANCA.
Let the devil and his dam haunt
you! What did you mean
by that same handkerchief you
gave me even now? I was a fine
fool to take it. I must take
out the work?--A likely piece
of
work that you should find it
in your chamber and not know
who
left it there! This is some minx's
token, and I must take out the
work? There,--give it your hobby-horse:
wheresoever you had it,
I'll take out no work on't.
CASSIO.
How now, my sweet Bianca! how
now! how now!
OTHELLO.
[Aside.] By heaven, that should
be my handkerchief!
BIANCA.
An you'll come to supper to-night,
you may; an you will
not, come when you are next prepared
for.
[Exit.]
IAGO.
After her, after her.
CASSIO.
Faith, I must; she'll rail in
the street else.
IAGO.
Will you sup there?
CASSIO.
Faith, I intend so.
IAGO.
Well, I may chance to see you;
for I would very fain
speak with you.
CASSIO.
Pr'ythee, come; will you?
IAGO.
Go to; say no more.
[Exit Cassio.]
OTHELLO.
[Coming forward.] How shall I
murder him, Iago?
IAGO.
Did you perceive how he laughed
at his vice?
OTHELLO.
O Iago!
IAGO.
And did you see the handkerchief?
OTHELLO.
Was that mine?
IAGO.
Yours, by this hand: and to see
how he prizes the foolish woman
your wife! she gave it him, and
he hath given it his whore.
OTHELLO.
I would have him nine years a-killing.--A
fine woman! a fair
woman! a sweet woman!
IAGO.
Nay, you must forget that.
OTHELLO.
Ay, let her rot, and perish,
and be damned to-night; for
she shall not live: no, my heart
is turned to stone; I strike
it, and it hurts my hand.--O,
the world hath not a sweeter
creature: she might lie by an
emperor's side, and command him
tasks.
IAGO.
Nay, that's not your way.
OTHELLO.
Hang her! I do but say what she
is:--so delicate with her
needle!--an admirable musician!
O, she will sing the savageness
out of a bear!--Of so high and
plenteous wit and invention!--
IAGO.
She's the worse for all this.
OTHELLO.
O, a thousand, a thousand times:--and
then, of so gentle a
condition!
IAGO.
Ay, too gentle.
OTHELLO.
Nay, that's certain:--but yet
the pity of it, Iago!
O Iago, the pity of it, Iago!
IAGO.
If you are so fond over her iniquity,
give her patent to
offend; for, if it touch not
you, it comes near nobody.
OTHELLO.
I will chop her into messes.--Cuckold
me!
IAGO.
O, 'tis foul in her.
OTHELLO.
With mine officer!
IAGO.
That's fouler.
OTHELLO.
Get me some poison, Iago; this
night.--I'll not expostulate
with her, lest her body and beauty
unprovide my mind again:--
this night, Iago.
IAGO.
Do it not with poison; strangle
her in her bed, even the
bed she hath contaminated.
OTHELLO.
Good, good: the justice of it
pleases: very good.
IAGO.
And for Cassio,--let me be his
undertaker:--you shall hear
more by midnight.
OTHELLO.
Excellent good. [A trumpet within.]
What trumpet is that same?
IAGO.
Something from Venice, sure.
'Tis Lodovico
Come from the duke: and, see,
your wife is with him.
[Enter Lodovico, Desdemona,
and Attendants.]
LODOVICO.
Save you, worthy general!
OTHELLO.
With all my heart, sir.
LODOVICO.
The duke and senators of Venice
greet you.
[Gives him a packet.]
OTHELLO.
I kiss the instrument of their
pleasures.
[Opens the packet and reads.]
DESDEMONA.
And what's the news, good cousin
Lodovico?
IAGO.
I am very glad to see you, signior;
Welcome to Cyprus.
LODOVICO.
I thank you. How does Lieutenant
Cassio?
IAGO.
Lives, sir.
DESDEMONA.
Cousin, there's fall'n between
him and my lord
An unkind breach: but you shall
make all well.
OTHELLO.
Are you sure of that?
DESDEMONA.
My lord?
OTHELLO.
[Reads.] "This fail you
not to do, as you will,--"
LODOVICO.
He did not call; he's busy in
the paper.
Is there division 'twixt my lord
and Cassio?
DESDEMONA.
A most unhappy one: I would do
much
To atone them, for the love I
bear to Cassio.
OTHELLO.
Fire and brimstone!
DESDEMONA.
My lord?
OTHELLO.
Are you wise?
DESDEMONA.
What, is he angry?
LODOVICO.
May be the letter mov'd him;
For, as I think, they do command
him home,
Deputing Cassio in his government.
DESDEMONA.
Trust me, I am glad on't.
OTHELLO.
Indeed!
DESDEMONA.
My lord?
OTHELLO.
I am glad to see you mad.
DESDEMONA.
Why, sweet Othello,--
OTHELLO.
Devil! [Striking her.]
DESDEMONA.
I have not deserv'd this.
LODOVICO.
My lord, this would not be believ'd
in Venice,
Though I should swear I saw't:
'tis very much:
Make her amends; she weeps.
OTHELLO.
O devil, devil!
If that the earth could teem
with woman's tears,
Each drop she falls would prove
a crocodile.--
Out of my sight!
DESDEMONA.
[Going.] I will not stay to offend
you.
LODOVICO.
Truly, an obedient lady:--
I do beseech your lordship, call
her back.
OTHELLO.
Mistress!
DESDEMONA.
My lord?
OTHELLO.
What would you with her, sir?
LODOVICO.
Who, I, my lord?
OTHELLO.
Ay; you did wish that I would
make her turn:
Sir, she can turn, and turn,
and yet go on,
And turn again; and she can weep,
sir, weep;
And she's obedient, as you say,--obedient,--
Very obedient.--Proceed you in
your tears.--
Concerning this, sir,--O well-painted
passion!
I am commanded home.--Get you
away;
I'll send for you anon.--Sir,
I obey the mandate,
And will return to Venice.--Hence,
avaunt!
[Exit Desdemona.]
Cassio shall have my place.
And, sir, to-night,
I do entreat that we may sup
together:
You are welcome, sir, to Cyprus.--Goats
and monkeys!
[Exit.]
LODOVICO.
Is this the noble Moor whom our
full senate
Call all-in-all sufficient? Is
this the nature
Whom passion could not shake?
whose solid virtue
The shot of accident nor dart
of chance
Could neither graze nor pierce?
IAGO.
He is much chang'd.
LODOVICO.
Are his wits safe? is he not
light of brain?
IAGO.
He's that he is: I may not breathe
my censure
What he might be,--if what he
might he is not,--
I would to heaven he were!
LODOVICO.
What, strike his wife!
IAGO.
Faith, that was not so well;
yet would I knew
That stroke would prove the worst!
LODOVICO.
Is it his use?
Or did the letters work upon
his blood,
And new-create this fault?
IAGO.
Alas, alas!
It is not honesty in me to speak
What I have seen and known. You
shall observe him;
And his own courses will denote
him so
That I may save my speech: do
but go after,
And mark how he continues.
LODOVICO.
I am sorry that I am deceiv'd
in him.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE II. Cyprus. A Room in the
Castle.
[Enter Othello and Emilia.]
OTHELLO.
You have seen nothing, then?
EMILIA.
Nor ever heard, nor ever did
suspect.
OTHELLO.
Yes, you have seen Cassio and
she together.
EMILIA.
But then I saw no harm, and then
I heard
Each syllable that breath made
up between them.
OTHELLO.
What, did they never whisper?
EMILIA.
Never, my lord.
OTHELLO.
Nor send you out o' the way?
EMILIA.
Never.
OTHELLO.
To fetch her fan, her gloves,
her mask, nor nothing?
EMILIA.
Never, my lord.
OTHELLO.
That's strange.
EMILIA.
I durst, my lord, to wager she
is honest,
Lay down my soul at stake: if
you think other,
Remove your thought,--it doth
abuse your bosom.
If any wretch have put this in
your head,
Let heaven requite it with the
serpent's curse!
For if she be not honest, chaste,
and true,
There's no man happy; the purest
of their wives
Is foul as slander.
OTHELLO.
Bid her come hither.--Go.
[Exit Emilia.]
She says enough; yet she's a
simple bawd
That cannot say as much. This
is a subtle whore,
A closet-lock-and-key of villainous
secrets:
And yet she'll kneel and pray;
I have seen her do't.
[Enter Emilia with Desdemona.]
DESDEMONA.
My lord, what is your will?
OTHELLO.
Pray, chuck, come hither.
DESDEMONA.
What is your pleasure?
OTHELLO.
Let me see your eyes;
Look in my face.
DESDEMONA.
What horrible fancy's this?
OTHELLO.
Some of your function, mistress,
[To Emilia.]
Leave procreants alone and shut
the door;
Cough, or cry hem, if anybody
come.
Your mystery, your mystery;--nay,
despatch.
[Exit Emilia.]
DESDEMONA.
Upon my knees, what doth your
speech import?
I understand a fury in your words,
But not the words.
OTHELLO.
Why, what art thou?
DESDEMONA.
Your wife, my lord; your true
and loyal wife.
OTHELLO.
Come, swear it, damn thyself;
Lest, being like one of heaven,
the devils themselves
Should fear to seize thee: yherefore
be double-damn'd.--
Swear thou art honest.
DESDEMONA.
Heaven doth truly know it.
OTHELLO.
Heaven truly knows that thou
art false as hell.
DESDEMONA.
To whom, my lord? with whom?
how am I false?
OTHELLO.
O Desdemona!--away! away! away!
DESDEMONA.
Alas the heavy day!--Why do you
weep?
Am I the motive of these tears,
my lord?
If haply you my father do suspect
An instrument of this your calling
back,
Lay not your blame on me: if
you have lost him,
Why, I have lost him too.
OTHELLO.
Had it pleas'd heaven
To try me with affliction; had
they rain'd
All kinds of sores and shames
on my bare head;
Steep'd me in poverty to the
very lips;
Given to captivity me and my
utmost hopes;
I should have found in some place
of my soul
A drop of patience: but, alas,
to make me
A fixed figure for the time,
for scorn
To point his slow unmoving finger
at!--
Yet could I bear that too; well,
very well:
But there, where I have garner'd
up my heart;
Where either I must live or bear
no life,--
The fountain from the which my
current runs,
Or else dries up; to be discarded
thence!
Or keep it as a cistern for foul
toads
To knot and gender in!--turn
thy complexion there,
Patience, thou young and rose-lipp'd
cherubin,--
Ay, there, look grim as hell!
DESDEMONA.
I hope my noble lord esteems
me honest.
OTHELLO.
O, ay; as summer flies are in
the shambles,
That quicken even with blowing.
O thou weed,
Who art so lovely fair, and smell'st
so sweet,
That the sense aches at thee,--would
thou hadst ne'er been
born!
DESDEMONA.
Alas, what ignorant sin have
I committed?
OTHELLO.
Was this fair paper, this most
goodly book,
Made to write whore upon? What
committed!
Committed!--O thou public commoner!
I should make very forges of
my cheeks,
That would to cinders burn up
modesty,
Did I but speak thy deeds.--What
committed!
Heaven stops the nose at it,
and the moon winks;
The bawdy wind, that kisses all
it meets,
Is hush'd within the hollow mine
of earth,
And will not hear it.--What committed!--
Impudent strumpet!
DESDEMONA.
By heaven, you do me wrong.
OTHELLO.
Are not you a strumpet?
DESDEMONA.
No, as I am a Christian:
If to preserve this vessel for
my lord
From any other foul unlawful
touch
Be not to be a strumpet, I am
none.
OTHELLO.
What, not a whore?
DESDEMONA.
No, as I shall be sav'd.
OTHELLO.
Is't possible?
DESDEMONA.
O, heaven forgive us!
OTHELLO.
I cry you mercy then:
I took you for that cunning whore
of Venice
That married with Othello.--You,
mistress,
That have the office opposite
to Saint Peter,
And keep the gate of hell!
[Re-enter Emilia.]
You, you, ay, you!
We have done our course; there's
money for your pains:
I pray you, turn the key, and
keep our counsel.
[Exit.]
EMILIA.
Alas, what does this gentleman
conceive?--
How do you, madam? how do you,
my good lady?
DESDEMONA.
Faith, half asleep.
EMILIA.
Good madam, what's the matter
with my lord?
DESDEMONA.
With who?
EMILIA.
Why, with my lord, madam.
DESDEMONA.
Who is thy lord?
EMILIA.
He that is yours, sweet lady.
DESDEMONA.
I have none: do not talk to me,
Emilia;
I cannot weep; nor answer have
I none
But what should go by water.
Pr'ythee, to-night
Lay on my bed my wedding sheets,--remember;--
And call thy husband hither.
EMILIA.
Here's a change indeed!
[Exit.]
DESDEMONA.
'Tis meet I should be us'd so,
very meet.
How have I been behav'd, that
he might stick
The small'st opinion on my least
misuse?
[Re-enter Emilia with Iago.]
IAGO.
What is your pleasure, madam?
How is't with you?
DESDEMONA.
I cannot tell. Those that do
teach young babes
Do it with gentle means and easy
tasks:
He might have chid me so; for
in good faith,
I am a child to chiding.
IAGO.
What's the matter, lady?
EMILIA.
Alas, Iago, my lord hath so bewhor'd
her,
Thrown such despite and heavy
terms upon her,
As true hearts cannot bear.
DESDEMONA.
Am I that name, Iago?
IAGO.
What name, fair lady?
DESDEMONA.
Such as she says my lord did
say I was.
EMILIA.
He call'd her whore: a beggar
in his drink
Could not have laid such terms
upon his callet.
IAGO.
Why did he so?
DESDEMONA.
I do not know; I am sure I am
none such.
IAGO.
Do not weep, do not weep:--alas
the day!
EMILIA.
Hath she forsook so many noble
matches,
Her father, and her country,
and her friends,
To be call'd whore? would it
not make one weep?
DESDEMONA.
It is my wretched fortune.
IAGO.
Beshrew him for't!
How comes this trick upon him?
DESDEMONA.
Nay, heaven doth know.
EMILIA.
I will be hang'd, if some eternal
villain,
Some busy and insinuating rogue,
Some cogging, cozening slave,
to get some office,
Have not devis'd this slander;
I'll be hang'd else.
IAGO.
Fie, there is no such man; it
is impossible.
DESDEMONA.
If any such there be, heaven
pardon him!
EMILIA.
A halter pardon him! and hell
gnaw his bones!
Why should he call her whore?
who keeps her company?
What place? what time? what form?
what likelihood?
The Moor's abused by some most
villainous knave,
Some base notorious knave, some
scurvy fellow:--
O heaven, that such companions
thou'dst unfold,
And put in every honest hand
a whip
To lash the rascals naked through
the world
Even from the east to the west!
IAGO.
Speak within door.
EMILIA.
O, fie upon them! some such squire
he was
That turn'd your wit the seamy
side without,
And made you to suspect me with
the Moor.
IAGO.
You are a fool; go to.
DESDEMONA.
Alas, Iago,
What shall I do to win my lord
again?
Good friend, go to him; for by
this light of heaven,
I know not how I lost him. Here
I kneel:--
If e'er my will did trespass
'gainst his love,
Either in discourse of thought
or actual deed;
Or that mine eyes, mine ears,
or any sense,
Delighted them in any other form;
Or that I do not yet, and ever
did,
And ever will, though he do shake
me off
To beggarly divorcement,--love
him dearly,
Comfort forswear me! Unkindness
may do much;
And his unkindness may defeat
my life,
But never taint my love. I cannot
say whore,--
It does abhor me now I speak
the word;
To do the act that might the
addition earn
Not the world's mass of vanity
could make me.
IAGO.
I pray you, be content; 'tis
but his humour:
The business of the state does
him offence,
And he does chide with you.
DESDEMONA.
If 'twere no other,--
IAGO.
'Tis but so, I warrant.
[Trumpets within.]
Hark, how these instruments
summon to supper!
The messengers of Venice stay
the meat:
Go in, and weep not; all things
shall be well.
[Exeunt Desdemona and Emilia.]
[Enter Roderigo.]
How now, Roderigo!
RODERIGO.
I do not find that thou dealest
justly with me.
IAGO.
What in the contrary?
RODERIGO.
Every day thou daffest me with
some device, Iago; and
rather, as it seems to me now,
keepest from me all
conveniency than suppliest me
with the least advantage of hope.
I
will indeed no longer endure
it; nor am I yet persuaded to
put up
in peace what already I have
foolishly suffered.
IAGO.
Will you hear me, Roderigo?
RODERIGO.
Faith, I have heard too much;
for your words and
performances are no kin together.
IAGO.
You charge me most unjustly.
RODERIGO.
With naught but truth. I have
wasted myself out of my
means. The jewels you have had
from me to deliver to Desdemona
would half have corrupted a votarist:
you have told me she
hath received them, and returned
me expectations and comforts
of
sudden respect and acquaintance;
but I find none.
IAGO.
Well; go to; very well.
RODERIGO.
Very well! go to! I cannot go
to, man; nor 'tis not
very well: nay, I say 'tis very
scurvy, and begin to
find myself fobbed in it.
IAGO.
Very well.
RODERIGO.
I tell you 'tis not very well.
I will make myself
known to Desdemona: if she will
return me my jewels, I will give
over my suit and repent my unlawful
solicitation; if not, assure
yourself I will seek satisfaction
of you.
IAGO.
You have said now.
RODERIGO.
Ay, and said nothing but what
I protest intendment of
doing.
IAGO.
Why, now I see there's mettle
in thee; and even from this
instant do build on thee a better
opinion than ever before.
Give me thy hand, Roderigo. Thou
hast taken against me a most
just exception; but yet, I protest,
have dealt most directly in
thy affair.
RODERIGO.
It hath not appeared.
IAGO.
I grant indeed it hath not appeared,
and your suspicion is
not without wit and judgement.
But, Roderigo, if thou hast
that in thee indeed, which I
have greater reason to believe
now
than ever,--I mean purpose, courage,
and valour,--this night show
it: if thou the next night following
enjoy not Desdemona, take me
from this world with treachery
and devise engines for my life.
RODERIGO.
Well, what is it? is it within
reason and compass?
IAGO.
Sir, there is especial commission
come from Venice to depute
Cassio in Othello's place.
RODERIGO.
Is that true? why then Othello
and Desdemona return again
to Venice.
IAGO.
O, no; he goes into Mauritania,
and takes away with him the
fair Desdemona, unless his abode
be lingered here by some
accident: wherein none can be
so determinate as the removing
of Cassio.
RODERIGO.
How do you mean removing of him?
IAGO.
Why, by making him uncapable
of Othello's place;--knocking
out his brains.
RODERIGO.
And that you would have me to
do?
IAGO.
Ay, if you dare do yourself a
profit and a right. He sups
to-night with a harlotry, and
thither will I go to him:--he
knows not yet of his honourable
fortune. If you will watch his
going thence,--which his will
fashion to fall out between twelve
and one,--you may take him at
your pleasure: I will be near
to
second your attempt, and he shall
fall between us. Come, stand
not amazed at it, but go along
with me; I will show you such
a
necessity in his death that you
shall think yourself bound to
put it on him. It is now high
supper-time, and the night grows
to
waste: about it.
RODERIGO.
I will hear further reason for
this.
IAGO.
And you shall be satisfied.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE III. Cyprus. Another Room
in the Castle.
[Enter Othello, Lodovico, Desdemona,
Emilia, and Attendants.]
LODOVICO.
I do beseech you, sir, trouble
yourself no further.
OTHELLO.
O, pardon me; 'twill do me good
to walk.
LODOVICO.
Madam, good night; I humbly thank
your ladyship.
DESDEMONA.
Your honour is most welcome.
OTHELLO.
Will you walk, sir?--
O,--Desdemona,--
DESDEMONA.
My lord?
OTHELLO.
Get you to bed on the instant;
I will be returned
forthwith: dismiss your attendant
there: look't be done.
DESDEMONA.
I will, my lord.
[Exeunt Othello, Lodovico, and
Attendants.]
EMILIA.
How goes it now? he looks gentler
than he did.
DESDEMONA.
He says he will return incontinent:
He hath commanded me to go to
bed,
And bade me to dismiss you.
EMILIA.
Dismiss me!
DESDEMONA.
It was his bidding; therefore,
good Emilia,
Give me my nightly wearing, and
adieu:
We must not now displease him.
EMILIA.
I would you had never seen him!
DESDEMONA.
So would not I: my love doth
so approve him,
That even his stubbornness, his
checks, his frowns,--
Pr'ythee, unpin me,--have grace
and favour in them.
EMILIA.
I have laid those sheets you
bade me on the bed.
DESDEMONA.
All's one.--Good faith, how foolish
are our minds!--
If I do die before thee, pr'ythee,
shroud me
In one of those same sheets.
EMILIA.
Come, come, you talk.
DESDEMONA.
My mother had a maid call'd Barbara;
She was in love; and he she lov'd
prov'd mad
And did forsake her: she had
a song of "willow";
An old thing 'twas, but it express'd
her fortune,
And she died singing it: that
song to-night
Will not go from my mind; I have
much to do
But to go hang my head all at
one side,
And sing it like poor Barbara.
Pr'ythee, despatch.
EMILIA.
Shall I go fetch your night-gown?
DESDEMONA.
No, unpin me here.--
This Lodovico is a proper man.
EMILIA.
A very handsome man.
DESDEMONA.
He speaks well.
EMILIA.
I know a lady in Venice would
have walked barefoot to
Palestine for a touch of his
nether lip.
DESDEMONA.
[Sings.]
" The poor soul sat sighing by
a sycamore tree,
Sing all a green willow;
Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee,
Sing willow, willow, willow:
The fresh streams ran by her, and murmur'd her moans;
Sing willow, willow, willow;
Her salt tears fell from her, and soften'd the stones;--"
Lay be these:--
[Sings.]
"Sing willow, willow, willow;--"
Pr'ythee, hie thee; he'll come
anon:--
[Sings.]
"Sing all a green willow must be my garland.
Let nobody blame him; his scorn I approve,--"
Nay, that's not next.--Hark!
who is't that knocks?
EMILIA.
It's the wind.
DESDEMONA.
[Sings.]
" I call'd my love false love;
but what said he then?
Sing willow, willow, willow:
If I court mo women, you'll couch with mo men.--"
So get thee gone; good night.
Mine eyes do itch;
Doth that bode weeping?
EMILIA.
'Tis neither here nor there.
DESDEMONA.
I have heard it said so.--O,
these men, these men!--
Dost thou in conscience think,--tell
me, Emilia,--
That there be women do abuse
their husbands
In such gross kind?
EMILIA.
There be some such, no question.
DESDEMONA.
Wouldst thou do such a deed for
all the world?
EMILIA.
Why, would not you?
DESDEMONA.
No, by this heavenly light!
EMILIA.
Nor I neither by this heavenly
light; I might do't as
well i' the dark.
DESDEMONA.
Wouldst thou do such a deed for
all the world?
EMILIA.
The world's a huge thing; it
is a great price
For a small vice.
DESDEMONA.
In troth, I think thou wouldst
not.
EMILIA.
In troth, I think I should; and
undo't when I had done.
Marry, I would not do such a
thing for a joint-ring, nor for
measures of lawn, nor for gowns,
petticoats, nor caps, nor
any petty exhibition; but, for
the whole world---why, who would
not make her husband a cuckold
to make him a monarch? I should
venture purgatory for't.
DESDEMONA.
Beshrew me, if I would do such
a wrong for the whole world.
EMILIA.
Why, the wrong is but a wrong
i' the world; and having the
world for your labour, 'tis a
wrong in your own world, and
you
might quickly make it right.
DESDEMONA.
I do not think there is any such
woman.
EMILIA.
Yes, a dozen; and as many to
the vantage as would store
the world they play'd for.
But I do think it is their husbands'
faults
If wives do fall: say that they
slack their duties
And pour our treasures into foreign
laps;
Or else break out in peevish
jealousies,
Throwing restraint upon us; or
say they strike us,
Or scant our former having in
despite;
Why, we have galls; and though
we have some grace,
Yet have we some revenge. Let
husbands know
Their wives have sense like them:
they see and smell
And have their palates both for
sweet and sour,
As husbands have. What is it
that they do
When they change us for others?
Is it sport?
I think it is: and doth affection
breed it?
I think it doth : is't frailty
that thus errs?
It is so too. And have not we
affections,
Desires for sport, and frailty,
as men have?
Then let them use us well: else
let them know
The ills we do their ills instruct
us so.
DESDEMONA.
Good-night, good-night: heaven
me such usage send,
Not to pick bad from bad, but
by bad mend!
[Exeunt.]
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