mirror of https://github.com/zulip/zulip.git
7503 lines
164 KiB
Plaintext
7503 lines
164 KiB
Plaintext
ACT I
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SCENE I. Venice. A street.
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[[Enter RODERIGO and IAGO]]
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RODERIGO
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Tush! never tell me; I take it much unkindly
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That thou, Iago, who hast had my purse
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As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this.
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IAGO
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'Sblood, but you will not hear me:
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If ever I did dream of such a matter, Abhor me.
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RODERIGO
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Thou told'st me thou didst hold him in thy hate.
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IAGO
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Despise me, if I do not. Three great ones of the city,
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In personal suit to make me his lieutenant,
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Off-capp'd to him: and, by the faith of man,
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I know my price, I am worth no worse a place:
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But he; as loving his own pride and purposes,
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Evades them, with a bombast circumstance
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Horribly stuff'd with epithets of war;
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And, in conclusion,
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Nonsuits my mediators; for, 'Certes,' says he,
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'I have already chose my officer.'
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And what was he?
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Forsooth, a great arithmetician,
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One Michael Cassio, a Florentine,
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A fellow almost damn'd in a fair wife;
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That never set a squadron in the field,
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Nor the division of a battle knows
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More than a spinster; unless the bookish theoric,
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Wherein the toged consuls can propose
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As masterly as he: mere prattle, without practise,
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Is all his soldiership. But he, sir, had the election:
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And I, of whom his eyes had seen the proof
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At Rhodes, at Cyprus and on other grounds
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Christian and heathen, must be be-lee'd and calm'd
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By debitor and creditor: this counter-caster,
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He, in good time, must his lieutenant be,
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And I--God bless the mark!--his Moorship's ancient.
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RODERIGO
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By heaven, I rather would have been his hangman.
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IAGO
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Why, there's no remedy; 'tis the curse of service,
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Preferment goes by letter and affection,
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And not by old gradation, where each second
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Stood heir to the first. Now, sir, be judge yourself,
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Whether I in any just term am affined
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To love the Moor.
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RODERIGO
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I would not follow him then.
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IAGO
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O, sir, content you;
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I follow him to serve my turn upon him:
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We cannot all be masters, nor all masters
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Cannot be truly follow'd. You shall mark
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Many a duteous and knee-crooking knave,
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That, doting on his own obsequious bondage,
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Wears out his time, much like his master's ass,
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For nought but provender, and when he's old, cashier'd:
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Whip me such honest knaves. Others there are
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Who, trimm'd in forms and visages of duty,
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Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves,
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And, throwing but shows of service on their lords,
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Do well thrive by them and when they have lined
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their coats
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Do themselves homage: these fellows have some soul;
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And such a one do I profess myself. For, sir,
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It is as sure as you are Roderigo,
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Were I the Moor, I would not be Iago:
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In following him, I follow but myself;
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Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty,
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But seeming so, for my peculiar end:
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For when my outward action doth demonstrate
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The native act and figure of my heart
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In compliment extern, 'tis not long after
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But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve
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For daws to peck at: I am not what I am.
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RODERIGO
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What a full fortune does the thicklips owe
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If he can carry't thus!
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IAGO
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Call up her father,
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Rouse him: make after him, poison his delight,
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Proclaim him in the streets; incense her kinsmen,
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And, though he in a fertile climate dwell,
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Plague him with flies: though that his joy be joy,
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Yet throw such changes of vexation on't,
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As it may lose some colour.
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RODERIGO
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Here is her father's house; I'll call aloud.
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IAGO
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Do, with like timorous accent and dire yell
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As when, by night and negligence, the fire
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Is spied in populous cities.
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RODERIGO
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What, ho, Brabantio! Signior Brabantio, ho!
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IAGO
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Awake! what, ho, Brabantio! thieves! thieves! thieves!
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Look to your house, your daughter and your bags!
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Thieves! thieves!
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[[BRABANTIO appears above, at a window]]
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BRABANTIO
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What is the reason of this terrible summons?
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What is the matter there?
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RODERIGO
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Signior, is all your family within?
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IAGO
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Are your doors lock'd?
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BRABANTIO
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Why, wherefore ask you this?
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IAGO
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'Zounds, sir, you're robb'd; for shame, put on
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your gown;
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Your heart is burst, you have lost half your soul;
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Even now, now, very now, an old black ram
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Is topping your white ewe. Arise, arise;
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Awake the snorting citizens with the bell,
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Or else the devil will make a grandsire of you:
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Arise, I say.
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BRABANTIO
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What, have you lost your wits?
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RODERIGO
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Most reverend signior, do you know my voice?
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BRABANTIO
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Not I what are you?
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RODERIGO
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My name is Roderigo.
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BRABANTIO
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The worser welcome:
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I have charged thee not to haunt about my doors:
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In honest plainness thou hast heard me say
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My daughter is not for thee; and now, in madness,
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Being full of supper and distempering draughts,
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Upon malicious bravery, dost thou come
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To start my quiet.
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RODERIGO
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Sir, sir, sir,--
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BRABANTIO
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But thou must needs be sure
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My spirit and my place have in them power
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To make this bitter to thee.
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RODERIGO
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Patience, good sir.
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BRABANTIO
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What tell'st thou me of robbing? this is Venice;
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My house is not a grange.
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RODERIGO
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Most grave Brabantio,
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In simple and pure soul I come to you.
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IAGO
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'Zounds, sir, you are one of those that will not
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serve God, if the devil bid you. Because we come to
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do you service and you think we are ruffians, you'll
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have your daughter covered with a Barbary horse;
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you'll have your nephews neigh to you; you'll have
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coursers for cousins and gennets for germans.
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BRABANTIO
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What profane wretch art thou?
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IAGO
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I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter
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and the Moor are now making the beast with two backs.
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BRABANTIO
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Thou art a villain.
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IAGO
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You are--a senator.
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BRABANTIO
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This thou shalt answer; I know thee, Roderigo.
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RODERIGO
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Sir, I will answer any thing. But, I beseech you,
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If't be your pleasure and most wise consent,
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As partly I find it is, that your fair daughter,
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At this odd-even and dull watch o' the night,
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Transported, with no worse nor better guard
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But with a knave of common hire, a gondolier,
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To the gross clasps of a lascivious Moor--
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If this be known to you and your allowance,
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We then have done you bold and saucy wrongs;
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But if you know not this, my manners tell me
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We have your wrong rebuke. Do not believe
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That, from the sense of all civility,
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I thus would play and trifle with your reverence:
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Your daughter, if you have not given her leave,
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I say again, hath made a gross revolt;
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Tying her duty, beauty, wit and fortunes
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In an extravagant and wheeling stranger
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Of here and every where. Straight satisfy yourself:
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If she be in her chamber or your house,
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Let loose on me the justice of the state
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For thus deluding you.
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BRABANTIO
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Strike on the tinder, ho!
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Give me a taper! call up all my people!
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This accident is not unlike my dream:
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Belief of it oppresses me already.
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Light, I say! light!
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[[Exit above]]
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IAGO
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Farewell; for I must leave you:
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It seems not meet, nor wholesome to my place,
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To be produced--as, if I stay, I shall--
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Against the Moor: for, I do know, the state,
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However this may gall him with some cheque,
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Cannot with safety cast him, for he's embark'd
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With such loud reason to the Cyprus wars,
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Which even now stand in act, that, for their souls,
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Another of his fathom they have none,
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To lead their business: in which regard,
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Though I do hate him as I do hell-pains.
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Yet, for necessity of present life,
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I must show out a flag and sign of love,
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Which is indeed but sign. That you shall surely find him,
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Lead to the Sagittary the raised search;
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And there will I be with him. So, farewell.
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[[Exit]]
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[[Enter, below, BRABANTIO, and Servants with torches]]
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BRABANTIO
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It is too true an evil: gone she is;
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And what's to come of my despised time
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Is nought but bitterness. Now, Roderigo,
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Where didst thou see her? O unhappy girl!
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With the Moor, say'st thou? Who would be a father!
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How didst thou know 'twas she? O she deceives me
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Past thought! What said she to you? Get more tapers:
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Raise all my kindred. Are they married, think you?
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RODERIGO
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Truly, I think they are.
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BRABANTIO
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O heaven! How got she out? O treason of the blood!
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Fathers, from hence trust not your daughters' minds
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By what you see them act. Is there not charms
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By which the property of youth and maidhood
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May be abused? Have you not read, Roderigo,
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Of some such thing?
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RODERIGO
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Yes, sir, I have indeed.
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BRABANTIO
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Call up my brother. O, would you had had her!
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Some one way, some another. Do you know
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Where we may apprehend her and the Moor?
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RODERIGO
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I think I can discover him, if you please,
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To get good guard and go along with me.
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BRABANTIO
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Pray you, lead on. At every house I'll call;
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I may command at most. Get weapons, ho!
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And raise some special officers of night.
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On, good Roderigo: I'll deserve your pains.
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[[Exeunt]]
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SCENE II. Another street.
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[[Enter OTHELLO, IAGO, and Attendants with torches]]
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IAGO
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Though in the trade of war I have slain men,
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Yet do I hold it very stuff o' the conscience
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To do no contrived murder: I lack iniquity
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Sometimes to do me service: nine or ten times
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I had thought to have yerk'd him here under the ribs.
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OTHELLO
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'Tis better as it is.
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IAGO
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Nay, but he prated,
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And spoke such scurvy and provoking terms
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Against your honour
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That, with the little godliness I have,
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I did full hard forbear him. But, I pray you, sir,
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Are you fast married? Be assured of this,
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That the magnifico is much beloved,
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And hath in his effect a voice potential
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As double as the duke's: he will divorce you;
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Or put upon you what restraint and grievance
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The law, with all his might to enforce it on,
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Will give him cable.
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OTHELLO
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Let him do his spite:
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My services which I have done the signiory
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Shall out-tongue his complaints. 'Tis yet to know,--
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Which, when I know that boasting is an honour,
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I shall promulgate--I fetch my life and being
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From men of royal siege, and my demerits
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May speak unbonneted to as proud a fortune
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As this that I have reach'd: for know, Iago,
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But that I love the gentle Desdemona,
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I would not my unhoused free condition
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Put into circumscription and confine
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For the sea's worth. But, look! what lights come yond?
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IAGO
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Those are the raised father and his friends:
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You were best go in.
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OTHELLO
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Not I I must be found:
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My parts, my title and my perfect soul
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Shall manifest me rightly. Is it they?
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IAGO
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By Janus, I think no.
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[[Enter CASSIO, and certain Officers with torches]]
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OTHELLO
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The servants of the duke, and my lieutenant.
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The goodness of the night upon you, friends!
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What is the news?
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CASSIO
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The duke does greet you, general,
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And he requires your haste-post-haste appearance,
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Even on the instant.
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OTHELLO
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What is the matter, think you?
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CASSIO
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Something from Cyprus as I may divine:
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It is a business of some heat: the galleys
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Have sent a dozen sequent messengers
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This very night at one another's heels,
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And many of the consuls, raised and met,
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Are at the duke's already: you have been
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hotly call'd for;
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When, being not at your lodging to be found,
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The senate hath sent about three several guests
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To search you out.
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OTHELLO
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'Tis well I am found by you.
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I will but spend a word here in the house,
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And go with you.
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[[Exit]]
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CASSIO
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Ancient, what makes he here?
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IAGO
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'Faith, he to-night hath boarded a land carack:
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If it prove lawful prize, he's made for ever.
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CASSIO
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I do not understand.
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IAGO
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He's married.
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CASSIO
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To who?
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[[Re-enter OTHELLO]]
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IAGO
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Marry, to--Come, captain, will you go?
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OTHELLO
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Have with you.
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CASSIO
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Here comes another troop to seek for you.
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IAGO
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It is Brabantio. General, be advised;
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He comes to bad intent.
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[[Enter BRABANTIO, RODERIGO, and Officers with torches and weapons]]
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OTHELLO
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Holla! stand there!
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RODERIGO
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Signior, it is the Moor.
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BRABANTIO
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Down with him, thief!
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[[They draw on both sides]]
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IAGO
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You, Roderigo! come, sir, I am for you.
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OTHELLO
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Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust them.
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Good signior, you shall more command with years
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Than with your weapons.
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BRABANTIO
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O thou foul thief, where hast thou stow'd my daughter?
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Damn'd as thou art, thou hast enchanted her;
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For I'll refer me to all things of sense,
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If she in chains of magic were not bound,
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Whether a maid so tender, fair and happy,
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So opposite to marriage that she shunned
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The wealthy curled darlings of our nation,
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Would ever have, to incur a general mock,
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Run from her guardage to the sooty bosom
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Of such a thing as thou, to fear, not to delight.
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Judge me the world, if 'tis not gross in sense
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That thou hast practised on her with foul charms,
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Abused her delicate youth with drugs or minerals
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That weaken motion: I'll have't disputed on;
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'Tis probable and palpable to thinking.
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I therefore apprehend and do attach thee
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For an abuser of the world, a practiser
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Of arts inhibited and out of warrant.
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Lay hold upon him: if he do resist,
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Subdue him at his peril.
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OTHELLO
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Hold your hands,
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Both you of my inclining, and the rest:
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Were it my cue to fight, I should have known it
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Without a prompter. Where will you that I go
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To answer this your charge?
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BRABANTIO
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To prison, till fit time
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Of law and course of direct session
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Call thee to answer.
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OTHELLO
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What if I do obey?
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How may the duke be therewith satisfied,
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Whose messengers are here about my side,
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Upon some present business of the state
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To bring me to him?
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First Officer
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'Tis true, most worthy signior;
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The duke's in council and your noble self,
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I am sure, is sent for.
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BRABANTIO
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How! the duke in council!
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In this time of the night! Bring him away:
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Mine's not an idle cause: the duke himself,
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Or any of my brothers of the state,
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Cannot but feel this wrong as 'twere their own;
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For if such actions may have passage free,
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Bond-slaves and pagans shall our statesmen be.
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[[Exeunt]]
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SCENE III. A council-chamber.
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[[The DUKE and Senators sitting at a table; Officers attending]]
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DUKE OF VENICE
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There is no composition in these news
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That gives them credit.
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First Senator
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Indeed, they are disproportion'd;
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My letters say a hundred and seven galleys.
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DUKE OF VENICE
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And mine, a hundred and forty.
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Second Senator
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And mine, two hundred:
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But though they jump not on a just account,--
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As in these cases, where the aim reports,
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'Tis oft with difference--yet do they all confirm
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|
A Turkish fleet, and bearing up to Cyprus.
|
|
|
|
DUKE OF VENICE
|
|
|
|
Nay, it is possible enough to judgment:
|
|
I do not so secure me in the error,
|
|
But the main article I do approve
|
|
In fearful sense.
|
|
|
|
Sailor
|
|
|
|
[Within] What, ho! what, ho! what, ho!
|
|
|
|
First Officer
|
|
|
|
A messenger from the galleys.
|
|
|
|
[[Enter a Sailor]]
|
|
|
|
DUKE OF VENICE
|
|
|
|
Now, what's the business?
|
|
|
|
Sailor
|
|
|
|
The Turkish preparation makes for Rhodes;
|
|
So was I bid report here to the state
|
|
By Signior Angelo.
|
|
|
|
DUKE OF VENICE
|
|
|
|
How say you by this change?
|
|
|
|
First Senator
|
|
|
|
This cannot be,
|
|
By no assay of reason: 'tis a pageant,
|
|
To keep us in false gaze. When we consider
|
|
The importancy of Cyprus to the Turk,
|
|
And let ourselves again but understand,
|
|
That as it more concerns the Turk than Rhodes,
|
|
So may he with more facile question bear it,
|
|
For that it stands not in such warlike brace,
|
|
But altogether lacks the abilities
|
|
That Rhodes is dress'd in: if we make thought of this,
|
|
We must not think the Turk is so unskilful
|
|
To leave that latest which concerns him first,
|
|
Neglecting an attempt of ease and gain,
|
|
To wake and wage a danger profitless.
|
|
|
|
DUKE OF VENICE
|
|
|
|
Nay, in all confidence, he's not for Rhodes.
|
|
|
|
First Officer
|
|
|
|
Here is more news.
|
|
|
|
[[Enter a Messenger]]
|
|
|
|
Messenger
|
|
|
|
The Ottomites, reverend and gracious,
|
|
Steering with due course towards the isle of Rhodes,
|
|
Have there injointed them with an after fleet.
|
|
|
|
First Senator
|
|
|
|
Ay, so I thought. How many, as you guess?
|
|
|
|
Messenger
|
|
|
|
Of thirty sail: and now they do restem
|
|
Their backward course, bearing with frank appearance
|
|
Their purposes toward Cyprus. Signior Montano,
|
|
Your trusty and most valiant servitor,
|
|
With his free duty recommends you thus,
|
|
And prays you to believe him.
|
|
|
|
DUKE OF VENICE
|
|
|
|
'Tis certain, then, for Cyprus.
|
|
Marcus Luccicos, is not he in town?
|
|
|
|
First Senator
|
|
|
|
He's now in Florence.
|
|
|
|
DUKE OF VENICE
|
|
|
|
Write from us to him; post-post-haste dispatch.
|
|
|
|
First Senator
|
|
|
|
Here comes Brabantio and the valiant Moor.
|
|
|
|
[[Enter BRABANTIO, OTHELLO, IAGO, RODERIGO, and Officers]]
|
|
|
|
DUKE OF VENICE
|
|
|
|
Valiant Othello, we must straight employ you
|
|
Against the general enemy Ottoman.
|
|
|
|
[[To BRABANTIO]]
|
|
I did not see you; welcome, gentle signior;
|
|
We lack'd your counsel and your help tonight.
|
|
|
|
BRABANTIO
|
|
|
|
So did I yours. Good your grace, pardon me;
|
|
Neither my place nor aught I heard of business
|
|
Hath raised me from my bed, nor doth the general care
|
|
Take hold on me, for my particular grief
|
|
Is of so flood-gate and o'erbearing nature
|
|
That it engluts and swallows other sorrows
|
|
And it is still itself.
|
|
|
|
DUKE OF VENICE
|
|
|
|
Why, what's the matter?
|
|
|
|
BRABANTIO
|
|
|
|
My daughter! O, my daughter!
|
|
|
|
DUKE OF VENICE Senator
|
|
|
|
Dead?
|
|
|
|
BRABANTIO
|
|
|
|
Ay, to me;
|
|
She is abused, stol'n from me, and corrupted
|
|
By spells and medicines bought of mountebanks;
|
|
For nature so preposterously to err,
|
|
Being not deficient, blind, or lame of sense,
|
|
Sans witchcraft could not.
|
|
|
|
DUKE OF VENICE
|
|
|
|
Whoe'er he be that in this foul proceeding
|
|
Hath thus beguiled your daughter of herself
|
|
And you of her, the bloody book of law
|
|
You shall yourself read in the bitter letter
|
|
After your own sense, yea, though our proper son
|
|
Stood in your action.
|
|
|
|
BRABANTIO
|
|
|
|
Humbly I thank your grace.
|
|
Here is the man, this Moor, whom now, it seems,
|
|
Your special mandate for the state-affairs
|
|
Hath hither brought.
|
|
|
|
DUKE OF VENICE Senator
|
|
|
|
We are very sorry for't.
|
|
|
|
DUKE OF VENICE
|
|
|
|
[To OTHELLO] What, in your own part, can you say to this?
|
|
|
|
BRABANTIO
|
|
|
|
Nothing, but this is so.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors,
|
|
My very noble and approved good masters,
|
|
That I have ta'en away this old man's daughter,
|
|
It is most true; true, I have married her:
|
|
The very head and front of my offending
|
|
Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my speech,
|
|
And little bless'd with the soft phrase of peace:
|
|
For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith,
|
|
Till now some nine moons wasted, they have used
|
|
Their dearest action in the tented field,
|
|
And little of this great world can I speak,
|
|
More than pertains to feats of broil and 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, every thing,
|
|
To fall in love with what she fear'd to look on!
|
|
It is a judgment maim'd and most imperfect
|
|
That will confess perfection so could err
|
|
Against all rules of nature, and must be driven
|
|
To find out practises of cunning hell,
|
|
Why this should be. I therefore vouch again
|
|
That with some mixtures powerful o'er the blood,
|
|
Or with some dram conjured to this effect,
|
|
He wrought upon her.
|
|
|
|
DUKE OF VENICE
|
|
|
|
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 forced 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 OF VENICE
|
|
|
|
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 OF VENICE
|
|
|
|
Say it, Othello.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Her father loved me; oft invited me;
|
|
Still question'd me the story of my life,
|
|
From year to year, the battles, sieges, fortunes,
|
|
That I have passed.
|
|
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 dispatch,
|
|
She'ld 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 loved her,
|
|
I should but teach him how to tell my story.
|
|
And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake:
|
|
She loved me for the dangers I had pass'd,
|
|
And I loved her that she did pity them.
|
|
This only is the witchcraft I have used:
|
|
Here comes the lady; let her witness it.
|
|
|
|
[[Enter DESDEMONA, IAGO, and Attendants]]
|
|
|
|
DUKE OF VENICE
|
|
|
|
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
|
|
|
|
God be wi' you! I have done.
|
|
Please it your grace, on to the state-affairs:
|
|
I had rather to adopt a child than get it.
|
|
Come hither, Moor:
|
|
I here do give thee that with all my heart
|
|
Which, but thou hast already, with all my heart
|
|
I would keep from thee. For your sake, jewel,
|
|
I am glad at soul I have no other child:
|
|
For thy escape would teach me tyranny,
|
|
To hang clogs on them. I have done, my lord.
|
|
|
|
DUKE OF VENICE
|
|
|
|
Let me speak like yourself, and lay a sentence,
|
|
Which, as a grise or step, may help these lovers
|
|
Into your favour.
|
|
When remedies are past, the griefs are ended
|
|
By seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended.
|
|
To mourn a mischief that is past and gone
|
|
Is the next way to draw new mischief on.
|
|
What cannot be preserved when fortune takes
|
|
Patience her injury a mockery makes.
|
|
The robb'd that smiles steals something from the thief;
|
|
He robs himself that spends a bootless grief.
|
|
|
|
BRABANTIO
|
|
|
|
So let the Turk of Cyprus us beguile;
|
|
We lose it not, so long as we can smile.
|
|
He bears the sentence well that nothing bears
|
|
But the free comfort which from thence he hears,
|
|
But he bears both the sentence and the sorrow
|
|
That, to pay grief, must of poor patience borrow.
|
|
These sentences, to sugar, or to gall,
|
|
Being strong on both sides, are equivocal:
|
|
But words are words; I never yet did hear
|
|
That the bruised heart was pierced through the ear.
|
|
I humbly beseech you, proceed to the affairs of state.
|
|
|
|
DUKE OF VENICE
|
|
|
|
The Turk with a most mighty preparation makes for
|
|
Cyprus. Othello, the fortitude of the place is best
|
|
known to you; and though we have there a substitute
|
|
of most allowed sufficiency, yet opinion, a
|
|
sovereign mistress of effects, throws a more safer
|
|
voice on you: you must therefore be content to
|
|
slubber the gloss of your new fortunes with this
|
|
more stubborn and boisterous expedition.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
The tyrant custom, most grave senators,
|
|
Hath made the flinty and steel couch of war
|
|
My thrice-driven bed of down: I do agnise
|
|
A natural and prompt alacrity
|
|
I find in hardness, and do undertake
|
|
These present wars against the Ottomites.
|
|
Most humbly therefore bending to your state,
|
|
I crave fit disposition for my wife.
|
|
Due reference of place and exhibition,
|
|
With such accommodation and besort
|
|
As levels with her breeding.
|
|
|
|
DUKE OF VENICE
|
|
|
|
If you please,
|
|
Be't at her father's.
|
|
|
|
BRABANTIO
|
|
|
|
I'll not have it so.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Nor I.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Nor I; I would not there reside,
|
|
To put my father in impatient thoughts
|
|
By being in his eye. Most gracious duke,
|
|
To my unfolding lend your prosperous ear;
|
|
And let me find a charter in your voice,
|
|
To assist my simpleness.
|
|
|
|
DUKE OF VENICE
|
|
|
|
What would You, Desdemona?
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
That I did love the Moor to live with him,
|
|
My downright violence and storm of fortunes
|
|
May trumpet to the world: my heart's subdued
|
|
Even to the very quality of my lord:
|
|
I saw Othello's visage in his mind,
|
|
And to his honour and his valiant parts
|
|
Did I my soul and fortunes consecrate.
|
|
So that, dear lords, if I be left behind,
|
|
A moth of peace, and he go to the war,
|
|
The rites for which I love him are bereft me,
|
|
And I a heavy interim shall support
|
|
By his dear absence. Let me go with him.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Let her have your voices.
|
|
Vouch with me, heaven, I therefore beg it not,
|
|
To please the palate of my appetite,
|
|
Nor to comply with heat--the young affects
|
|
In me defunct--and proper satisfaction.
|
|
But to be free and bounteous to her mind:
|
|
And heaven defend your good souls, that you think
|
|
I will your serious and great business scant
|
|
For she is with me: no, when light-wing'd toys
|
|
Of feather'd Cupid seal with wanton dullness
|
|
My speculative and officed instruments,
|
|
That my disports corrupt and taint my business,
|
|
Let housewives make a skillet of my helm,
|
|
And all indign and base adversities
|
|
Make head against my estimation!
|
|
|
|
DUKE OF VENICE
|
|
|
|
Be it as you shall privately determine,
|
|
Either for her stay or going: the affair cries haste,
|
|
And speed must answer it.
|
|
|
|
First Senator
|
|
|
|
You must away to-night.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
With all my heart.
|
|
|
|
DUKE OF VENICE
|
|
|
|
At nine i' the morning here we'll meet again.
|
|
Othello, leave some officer behind,
|
|
And he shall our commission bring to you;
|
|
With such things else of quality and respect
|
|
As doth import you.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
So please your grace, my ancient;
|
|
A man he is of honest and trust:
|
|
To his conveyance I assign my wife,
|
|
With what else needful your good grace shall think
|
|
To be sent after me.
|
|
|
|
DUKE OF VENICE
|
|
|
|
Let it be so.
|
|
Good night to every one.
|
|
|
|
[[To BRABANTIO]]
|
|
And, noble signior,
|
|
If virtue no delighted beauty lack,
|
|
Your son-in-law is far more fair than black.
|
|
|
|
First Senator
|
|
|
|
Adieu, brave Moor, use Desdemona well.
|
|
|
|
BRABANTIO
|
|
|
|
Look to her, Moor, if thou hast eyes to see:
|
|
She has deceived her father, and may thee.
|
|
|
|
[[Exeunt DUKE OF VENICE, Senators, Officers, & c]]
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
My life upon her faith! Honest Iago,
|
|
My Desdemona must I leave to thee:
|
|
I prithee, let thy wife attend on her:
|
|
And bring them after in the best advantage.
|
|
Come, Desdemona: I have but an hour
|
|
Of love, of worldly matters and direction,
|
|
To spend with thee: we must obey the time.
|
|
|
|
[[Exeunt OTHELLO and DESDEMONA]]
|
|
|
|
RODERIGO
|
|
|
|
Iago,--
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
What say'st thou, noble heart?
|
|
|
|
RODERIGO
|
|
|
|
What will I do, thinkest thou?
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Why, go to bed, and sleep.
|
|
|
|
RODERIGO
|
|
|
|
I will incontinently drown myself.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
If thou dost, I shall never love thee after. Why,
|
|
thou silly gentleman!
|
|
|
|
RODERIGO
|
|
|
|
It is silliness to live when to live is torment; and
|
|
then have we a prescription to die when death is our physician.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
O villainous! I have looked upon the world for four
|
|
times seven years; and since I could distinguish
|
|
betwixt a benefit and an injury, I never found man
|
|
that knew how to love himself. Ere I would say, I
|
|
would drown myself for the love of a guinea-hen, I
|
|
would change my humanity with a baboon.
|
|
|
|
RODERIGO
|
|
|
|
What should I do? I confess it is my shame to be so
|
|
fond; but it is not in my virtue to amend it.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Virtue! a fig! 'tis in ourselves that we are thus
|
|
or thus. Our bodies are our gardens, to the which
|
|
our wills are gardeners: so that if we will plant
|
|
nettles, or sow lettuce, set hyssop and weed up
|
|
thyme, supply it with one gender of herbs, or
|
|
distract it with many, either to have it sterile
|
|
with idleness, or manured with industry, why, the
|
|
power and corrigible authority of this lies in our
|
|
wills. If the balance of our lives had not one
|
|
scale of reason to poise another of sensuality, the
|
|
blood and baseness of our natures would conduct us
|
|
to most preposterous conclusions: but we have
|
|
reason to cool our raging motions, our carnal
|
|
stings, our unbitted lusts, whereof I take this that
|
|
you call love to be a sect or scion.
|
|
|
|
RODERIGO
|
|
|
|
It cannot be.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
It is merely a lust of the blood and a permission of
|
|
the will. Come, be a man. Drown thyself! drown
|
|
cats and blind puppies. I have professed me thy
|
|
friend and I confess me knit to thy deserving with
|
|
cables of perdurable toughness; I could never
|
|
better stead thee than now. Put money in thy
|
|
purse; follow thou the wars; defeat thy favour with
|
|
an usurped beard; I say, put money in thy purse. It
|
|
cannot be that Desdemona should long continue her
|
|
love to the Moor,-- put money in thy purse,--nor he
|
|
his to her: it was a violent commencement, and thou
|
|
shalt see an answerable sequestration:--put but
|
|
money in thy purse. These Moors are changeable in
|
|
their wills: fill thy purse with money:--the food
|
|
that to him now is as luscious as locusts, shall be
|
|
to him shortly as bitter as coloquintida. She must
|
|
change for youth: when she is sated with his body,
|
|
she will find the error of her choice: she must
|
|
have change, she must: therefore put money in thy
|
|
purse. If thou wilt needs damn thyself, do it a
|
|
more delicate way than drowning. Make all the money
|
|
thou canst: if sanctimony and a frail vow betwixt
|
|
an erring barbarian and a supersubtle Venetian not
|
|
too hard for my wits and all the tribe of hell, thou
|
|
shalt enjoy her; therefore make money. A pox of
|
|
drowning thyself! it is clean out of the way: seek
|
|
thou rather to be hanged in compassing thy joy than
|
|
to be drowned and go without her.
|
|
|
|
RODERIGO
|
|
|
|
Wilt thou be fast to my hopes, if I depend on
|
|
the issue?
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Thou art sure of me:--go, make money:--I have told
|
|
thee often, and I re-tell thee again and again, I
|
|
hate the Moor: my cause is hearted; thine hath no
|
|
less reason. Let us be conjunctive in our revenge
|
|
against him: if thou canst cuckold him, thou dost
|
|
thyself a pleasure, me a sport. There are many
|
|
events in the womb of time which will be delivered.
|
|
Traverse! go, provide thy money. We will have more
|
|
of this to-morrow. Adieu.
|
|
|
|
RODERIGO
|
|
|
|
Where shall we meet i' the morning?
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
At my lodging.
|
|
|
|
RODERIGO
|
|
|
|
I'll be with thee betimes.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Go to; farewell. Do you hear, Roderigo?
|
|
|
|
RODERIGO
|
|
|
|
What say you?
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
No more of drowning, do you hear?
|
|
|
|
RODERIGO
|
|
|
|
I am changed: I'll go sell all my land.
|
|
|
|
[[Exit]]
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Thus do I ever make my fool my purse:
|
|
For I mine own gain'd knowledge should profane,
|
|
If I would time expend with such a snipe.
|
|
But for my sport and profit. I hate the Moor:
|
|
And it is thought abroad, that 'twixt my sheets
|
|
He has done my office: I know not if't be true;
|
|
But I, for mere suspicion in that kind,
|
|
Will do as if for surety. He holds me well;
|
|
The better shall my purpose work on him.
|
|
Cassio's a proper man: let me see now:
|
|
To get his place and to plume up my will
|
|
In double knavery--How, how? Let's see:--
|
|
After some time, to abuse Othello's ear
|
|
That he is too familiar with his wife.
|
|
He hath a person and a smooth dispose
|
|
To be suspected, framed to make women false.
|
|
The Moor is of a free and open nature,
|
|
That thinks men honest that but seem to be so,
|
|
And will as tenderly be led by the nose
|
|
As asses are.
|
|
I have't. It is engender'd. Hell and night
|
|
Must bring this monstrous birth to the world's light.
|
|
|
|
[[Exit]]
|
|
|
|
ACT II
|
|
SCENE I. A Sea-port in Cyprus. An open place near the quay.
|
|
|
|
[[Enter MONTANO and two Gentlemen]]
|
|
|
|
MONTANO
|
|
|
|
What from the cape can you discern at sea?
|
|
|
|
First Gentleman
|
|
|
|
Nothing at all: it is a highwrought flood;
|
|
I cannot, 'twixt the heaven and the main,
|
|
Descry a sail.
|
|
|
|
MONTANO
|
|
|
|
Methinks the wind hath spoke aloud at land;
|
|
A fuller blast ne'er shook our battlements:
|
|
If it hath ruffian'd so upon the sea,
|
|
What ribs of oak, when mountains melt on them,
|
|
Can hold the mortise? What shall we hear of this?
|
|
|
|
Second Gentleman
|
|
|
|
A segregation of the Turkish fleet:
|
|
For do but stand upon the foaming shore,
|
|
The chidden billow seems to pelt the clouds;
|
|
The wind-shaked surge, with high and monstrous mane,
|
|
seems to cast water on the burning bear,
|
|
And quench the guards of the ever-fixed pole:
|
|
I never did like molestation view
|
|
On the enchafed flood.
|
|
|
|
MONTANO
|
|
|
|
If that the Turkish fleet
|
|
Be not enshelter'd and embay'd, they are drown'd:
|
|
It is impossible they bear it out.
|
|
|
|
[[Enter a third Gentleman]]
|
|
|
|
Third Gentleman
|
|
|
|
News, lads! our wars are done.
|
|
The desperate tempest hath so bang'd the Turks,
|
|
That their designment halts: a noble ship of Venice
|
|
Hath seen a grievous wreck and sufferance
|
|
On most part of their fleet.
|
|
|
|
MONTANO
|
|
|
|
How! is this true?
|
|
|
|
Third Gentleman
|
|
|
|
The ship is here put in,
|
|
A Veronesa; Michael Cassio,
|
|
Lieutenant to the warlike Moor Othello,
|
|
Is come on shore: the Moor himself at sea,
|
|
And is in full commission here for Cyprus.
|
|
|
|
MONTANO
|
|
|
|
I am glad on't; 'tis a worthy governor.
|
|
|
|
Third Gentleman
|
|
|
|
But this same Cassio, though he speak of comfort
|
|
Touching the Turkish loss, yet he looks sadly,
|
|
And prays the Moor be safe; for they were parted
|
|
With foul and violent tempest.
|
|
|
|
MONTANO
|
|
|
|
Pray heavens he be;
|
|
For I have served him, and the man commands
|
|
Like a full soldier. Let's to the seaside, ho!
|
|
As well to see the vessel that's come in
|
|
As to throw out our eyes for brave Othello,
|
|
Even till we make the main and the aerial blue
|
|
An indistinct regard.
|
|
|
|
Third Gentleman
|
|
|
|
Come, let's do so:
|
|
For every minute is expectancy
|
|
Of more arrivance.
|
|
|
|
[[Enter CASSIO]]
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Thanks, you the valiant of this warlike isle,
|
|
That so approve the Moor! O, let the heavens
|
|
Give him defence against the elements,
|
|
For I have lost us him on a dangerous sea.
|
|
|
|
MONTANO
|
|
|
|
Is he well shipp'd?
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
His bark is stoutly timber'd, his pilot
|
|
Of very expert and approved allowance;
|
|
Therefore my hopes, not surfeited to death,
|
|
Stand in bold cure.
|
|
|
|
[[A cry within 'A sail, a sail, a sail!']]
|
|
|
|
[[Enter a fourth Gentleman]]
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
What noise?
|
|
|
|
Fourth Gentleman
|
|
|
|
The town is empty; on the brow o' the sea
|
|
Stand ranks of people, and they cry 'A sail!'
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
My hopes do shape him for the governor.
|
|
|
|
[[Guns heard]]
|
|
|
|
Second Gentlemen
|
|
|
|
They do discharge their shot of courtesy:
|
|
Our friends at least.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
I pray you, sir, go forth,
|
|
And give us truth who 'tis that is arrived.
|
|
|
|
Second Gentleman
|
|
|
|
I shall.
|
|
|
|
[[Exit]]
|
|
|
|
MONTANO
|
|
|
|
But, good lieutenant, is your general wived?
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Most fortunately: he hath achieved a maid
|
|
That paragons description and wild fame;
|
|
One that excels the quirks of blazoning pens,
|
|
And in the essential vesture of creation
|
|
Does tire the ingener.
|
|
|
|
[[Re-enter second Gentleman]]
|
|
How now! who has put in?
|
|
|
|
Second Gentleman
|
|
|
|
'Tis one Iago, ancient to the general.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Has had most favourable and happy speed:
|
|
Tempests themselves, high seas, and howling winds,
|
|
The gutter'd rocks and congregated sands--
|
|
Traitors ensteep'd to clog the guiltless keel,--
|
|
As having sense of beauty, do omit
|
|
Their mortal natures, letting go safely by
|
|
The divine Desdemona.
|
|
|
|
MONTANO
|
|
|
|
What is she?
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
She that I spake of, our great captain's captain,
|
|
Left in the conduct of the bold Iago,
|
|
Whose footing here anticipates our thoughts
|
|
A se'nnight's speed. Great Jove, Othello guard,
|
|
And swell his sail with thine own powerful breath,
|
|
That he may bless this bay with his tall ship,
|
|
Make love's quick pants in Desdemona's arms,
|
|
Give renew'd fire to our extincted spirits
|
|
And bring all Cyprus comfort!
|
|
|
|
[[Enter DESDEMONA, EMILIA, IAGO, RODERIGO, and Attendants]]
|
|
O, behold,
|
|
The riches of the ship is come on shore!
|
|
Ye men of Cyprus, let her have your knees.
|
|
Hail to thee, lady! and the grace of heaven,
|
|
Before, behind thee, and on every hand,
|
|
Enwheel thee round!
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
I thank you, valiant Cassio.
|
|
What tidings can you tell me of my lord?
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
He is not yet arrived: nor know I aught
|
|
But that he's well and will be shortly here.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
O, but I fear--How lost you company?
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
The great contention of the sea and skies
|
|
Parted our fellowship--But, hark! a sail.
|
|
|
|
[[Within 'A sail, a sail!' Guns heard]]
|
|
|
|
Second Gentleman
|
|
|
|
They give their greeting to the citadel;
|
|
This likewise is a friend.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
See for the news.
|
|
|
|
[[Exit Gentleman]]
|
|
Good ancient, you are welcome.
|
|
|
|
[[To EMILIA]]
|
|
Welcome, mistress.
|
|
Let it not gall your patience, good Iago,
|
|
That I extend my manners; 'tis my breeding
|
|
That gives me this bold show of courtesy.
|
|
|
|
[[Kissing her]]
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Sir, would she give you so much of her lips
|
|
As of her tongue she oft bestows on me,
|
|
You'll have enough.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Alas, she has no speech.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
In faith, too much;
|
|
I find it still, when I have list to sleep:
|
|
Marry, before your ladyship, I grant,
|
|
She puts her tongue a little in her heart,
|
|
And chides with thinking.
|
|
|
|
EMILIA
|
|
|
|
You have little cause to say so.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Come on, come on; you are pictures out of doors,
|
|
Bells in your parlors, wild-cats in your kitchens,
|
|
Saints m your injuries, devils being offended,
|
|
Players in your housewifery, and housewives' in your beds.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
O, fie upon thee, slanderer!
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Nay, it is true, or else I am a Turk:
|
|
You rise to play and go to bed to work.
|
|
|
|
EMILIA
|
|
|
|
You shall not write my praise.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
No, let me not.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
What wouldst thou write of me, if thou shouldst
|
|
praise me?
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
O gentle lady, do not put me to't;
|
|
For I am nothing, if not critical.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Come on assay. There's one gone to the harbour?
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Ay, madam.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
I am not merry; but I do beguile
|
|
The thing I am, by seeming otherwise.
|
|
Come, how wouldst thou praise me?
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
I am about it; but indeed my invention
|
|
Comes from my pate as birdlime does from frize;
|
|
It plucks out brains and all: but my Muse labours,
|
|
And thus she is deliver'd.
|
|
If she be fair and wise, fairness and wit,
|
|
The one's for use, the other useth it.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Well praised! How if she be black and witty?
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
If she be black, and thereto have a wit,
|
|
She'll find a white that shall her blackness fit.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Worse and worse.
|
|
|
|
EMILIA
|
|
|
|
How if fair and foolish?
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
She never yet was foolish that was fair;
|
|
For even her folly help'd her to an heir.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
These are old fond paradoxes to make fools laugh i'
|
|
the alehouse. What miserable praise hast thou for
|
|
her that's foul and foolish?
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
There's none so foul and foolish thereunto,
|
|
But does foul pranks which fair and wise ones do.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
O heavy ignorance! thou praisest the worst best.
|
|
But what praise couldst thou bestow on a deserving
|
|
woman indeed, one that, in the authority of her
|
|
merit, did justly put on the vouch of very malice itself?
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
She that was ever fair and never proud,
|
|
Had tongue at will and yet was never loud,
|
|
Never lack'd gold and yet went never gay,
|
|
Fled from her wish and yet said 'Now I may,'
|
|
She that being anger'd, her revenge being nigh,
|
|
Bade her wrong stay and her displeasure fly,
|
|
She that in wisdom never was so frail
|
|
To change the cod's head for the salmon's tail;
|
|
She that could think and ne'er disclose her mind,
|
|
See suitors following and not look behind,
|
|
She was a wight, if ever such wight were,--
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
To do what?
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
To suckle fools and chronicle small beer.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
O most lame and impotent conclusion! Do not learn
|
|
of him, Emilia, though he be thy husband. How say
|
|
you, Cassio? is he not a most profane and liberal
|
|
counsellor?
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
He speaks home, madam: You may relish him more in
|
|
the soldier than in the scholar.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
[Aside] He takes her by the palm: ay, well said,
|
|
whisper: with as little a web as this will I
|
|
ensnare as great a fly as Cassio. Ay, smile upon
|
|
her, do; I will gyve thee in thine own courtship.
|
|
You say true; 'tis so, indeed: if such tricks as
|
|
these strip you out of your lieutenantry, it had
|
|
been better you had not kissed your three fingers so
|
|
oft, which now again you are most apt to play the
|
|
sir in. Very good; well kissed! an excellent
|
|
courtesy! 'tis so, indeed. Yet again your fingers
|
|
to your lips? would they were clyster-pipes for your sake!
|
|
|
|
[[Trumpet within]]
|
|
The Moor! I know his trumpet.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
'Tis truly so.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Let's meet him and receive him.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Lo, where he comes!
|
|
|
|
[[Enter OTHELLO and Attendants]]
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
O my fair warrior!
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
My dear Othello!
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
It gives me wonder great as my content
|
|
To see you here before me. O my soul's joy!
|
|
If after every tempest come such calms,
|
|
May the winds blow till they have waken'd death!
|
|
And let the labouring bark climb hills of seas
|
|
Olympus-high and duck again as low
|
|
As hell's from heaven! If it were now to die,
|
|
'Twere now to be most happy; for, I fear,
|
|
My soul hath her content so absolute
|
|
That not another comfort like to this
|
|
Succeeds in unknown fate.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
The heavens forbid
|
|
But that our loves and comforts should increase,
|
|
Even as our days do grow!
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Amen to that, sweet powers!
|
|
I cannot speak enough of this content;
|
|
It stops me here; it is too much of joy:
|
|
And this, and this, the greatest discords be
|
|
|
|
[[Kissing her]]
|
|
That e'er our hearts shall make!
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
[Aside] O, you are well tuned now!
|
|
But I'll set down the pegs that make this music,
|
|
As honest as I am.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Come, let us to the castle.
|
|
News, friends; our wars are done, the Turks
|
|
are drown'd.
|
|
How does my old acquaintance of this isle?
|
|
Honey, you shall be well desired in Cyprus;
|
|
I have found great love amongst them. O my sweet,
|
|
I prattle out of fashion, and I dote
|
|
In mine own comforts. I prithee, good Iago,
|
|
Go to the bay and disembark my coffers:
|
|
Bring thou the master to the citadel;
|
|
He is a good one, and his worthiness
|
|
Does challenge much respect. Come, Desdemona,
|
|
Once more, well met at Cyprus.
|
|
|
|
[[Exeunt OTHELLO, DESDEMONA, and Attendants]]
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Do thou meet me presently at the harbour. Come
|
|
hither. If thou be'st valiant,-- as, they say, base
|
|
men being in love have then a nobility in their
|
|
natures more than is native to them--list me. The
|
|
lieutenant tonight watches on the court of
|
|
guard:--first, I must tell thee this--Desdemona is
|
|
directly in love with him.
|
|
|
|
RODERIGO
|
|
|
|
With him! why, 'tis not possible.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Lay thy finger thus, and let thy soul be instructed.
|
|
Mark me with what violence she first loved the Moor,
|
|
but for bragging and telling her fantastical lies:
|
|
and will she love him still for prating? let not
|
|
thy discreet heart think it. Her eye must be fed;
|
|
and what delight shall she have to look on the
|
|
devil? When the blood is made dull with the act of
|
|
sport, there should be, again to inflame it and to
|
|
give satiety a fresh appetite, loveliness in favour,
|
|
sympathy in years, manners and beauties; all which
|
|
the Moor is defective in: now, for want of these
|
|
required conveniences, her delicate tenderness will
|
|
find itself abused, begin to heave the gorge,
|
|
disrelish and abhor the Moor; very nature will
|
|
instruct her in it and compel her to some second
|
|
choice. Now, sir, this granted,--as it is a most
|
|
pregnant and unforced position--who stands so
|
|
eminent in the degree of this fortune as Cassio
|
|
does? a knave very voluble; no further
|
|
conscionable than in putting on the mere form of
|
|
civil and humane seeming, for the better compassing
|
|
of his salt and most hidden loose affection? why,
|
|
none; why, none: a slipper and subtle knave, a
|
|
finder of occasions, that has an eye can stamp and
|
|
counterfeit advantages, though true advantage never
|
|
present itself; a devilish knave. Besides, the
|
|
knave is handsome, young, and hath all those
|
|
requisites in him that folly and green minds look
|
|
after: a pestilent complete knave; and the woman
|
|
hath found him already.
|
|
|
|
RODERIGO
|
|
|
|
I cannot believe that in her; she's full of
|
|
most blessed condition.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Blessed fig's-end! the wine she drinks is made of
|
|
grapes: if she had been blessed, she would never
|
|
have loved the Moor. Blessed pudding! Didst thou
|
|
not see her paddle with the palm of his hand? didst
|
|
not mark that?
|
|
|
|
RODERIGO
|
|
|
|
Yes, that I did; but that was but courtesy.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Lechery, by this hand; an index and obscure prologue
|
|
to the history of lust and foul thoughts. They met
|
|
so near with their lips that their breaths embraced
|
|
together. Villanous thoughts, Roderigo! when these
|
|
mutualities so marshal the way, hard at hand comes
|
|
the master and main exercise, the incorporate
|
|
conclusion, Pish! But, sir, be you ruled by me: I
|
|
have brought you from Venice. Watch you to-night;
|
|
for the command, I'll lay't upon you. Cassio knows
|
|
you not. I'll not be far from you: do you find
|
|
some occasion to anger Cassio, either by speaking
|
|
too loud, or tainting his discipline; or from what
|
|
other course you please, which the time shall more
|
|
favourably minister.
|
|
|
|
RODERIGO
|
|
|
|
Well.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Sir, he is rash and very sudden in choler, and haply
|
|
may strike at you: provoke him, that he may; for
|
|
even out of that will I cause these of Cyprus to
|
|
mutiny; whose qualification shall come into no true
|
|
taste again but by the displanting of Cassio. So
|
|
shall you have a shorter journey to your desires by
|
|
the means I shall then have to prefer them; and the
|
|
impediment most profitably removed, without the
|
|
which there were no expectation of our prosperity.
|
|
|
|
RODERIGO
|
|
|
|
I will do this, if I can bring it to any
|
|
opportunity.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
I warrant thee. Meet me by and by at the citadel:
|
|
I must fetch his necessaries ashore. Farewell.
|
|
|
|
RODERIGO
|
|
|
|
Adieu.
|
|
|
|
[[Exit]]
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
That Cassio loves her, I do well believe it;
|
|
That she loves him, 'tis apt and of great credit:
|
|
The Moor, howbeit that I endure him not,
|
|
Is of a constant, loving, noble nature,
|
|
And I dare think he'll prove to Desdemona
|
|
A most dear husband. Now, I do love her too;
|
|
Not out of absolute lust, though peradventure
|
|
I stand accountant for as great a sin,
|
|
But partly led to diet my revenge,
|
|
For that I do suspect the lusty Moor
|
|
Hath leap'd into my seat; the thought whereof
|
|
Doth, like a poisonous mineral, gnaw my inwards;
|
|
And nothing can or shall content my soul
|
|
Till I am even'd with him, wife for wife,
|
|
Or failing so, yet that I put the Moor
|
|
At least into a jealousy so strong
|
|
That judgment cannot cure. Which thing to do,
|
|
If this poor trash of Venice, whom I trash
|
|
For his quick hunting, stand the putting on,
|
|
I'll have our Michael Cassio on the hip,
|
|
Abuse him to the Moor in the rank garb--
|
|
For I fear Cassio with my night-cap too--
|
|
Make the Moor thank me, love me and reward me.
|
|
For making him egregiously an ass
|
|
And practising upon his peace and quiet
|
|
Even to madness. 'Tis here, but yet confused:
|
|
Knavery's plain face is never seen tin used.
|
|
|
|
[[Exit]]
|
|
|
|
SCENE II. A street.
|
|
|
|
[[Enter a Herald with a proclamation; People following]]
|
|
|
|
Herald
|
|
|
|
It is Othello's pleasure, our noble and valiant
|
|
general, that, upon certain tidings now arrived,
|
|
importing the mere perdition of the Turkish fleet,
|
|
every man put himself into triumph; some to dance,
|
|
some to make bonfires, each man to what sport and
|
|
revels his addiction leads him: for, besides these
|
|
beneficial news, it is the celebration of his
|
|
nuptial. So much was his pleasure should be
|
|
proclaimed. All offices are open, and there is full
|
|
liberty of feasting from this present hour of five
|
|
till the bell have told eleven. Heaven bless the
|
|
isle of Cyprus and our noble general Othello!
|
|
|
|
[[Exeunt]]
|
|
|
|
SCENE III. A hall in the castle.
|
|
|
|
[[Enter OTHELLO, DESDEMONA, CASSIO, and Attendants]]
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Good Michael, look you to the guard to-night:
|
|
Let's teach ourselves that honourable stop,
|
|
Not to outsport discretion.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Iago hath direction what to do;
|
|
But, notwithstanding, with my personal eye
|
|
Will I look to't.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Iago is most honest.
|
|
Michael, good night: to-morrow with your earliest
|
|
Let me have speech with you.
|
|
|
|
[[To DESDEMONA]]
|
|
Come, my dear love,
|
|
The purchase made, the fruits are to ensue;
|
|
That profit's yet to come 'tween me and you.
|
|
Good night.
|
|
|
|
[[Exeunt OTHELLO, DESDEMONA, and Attendants]]
|
|
|
|
[[Enter IAGO]]
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Welcome, Iago; we must to the watch.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Not this hour, lieutenant; 'tis not yet ten o' the
|
|
clock. Our general cast us thus early for the love
|
|
of his Desdemona; who let us not therefore blame:
|
|
he hath not yet made wanton the night with her; and
|
|
she is sport for Jove.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
She's a most exquisite lady.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
And, I'll warrant her, fun of game.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Indeed, she's a most fresh and delicate creature.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
What an eye she has! methinks it sounds a parley of
|
|
provocation.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
An inviting eye; and yet methinks right modest.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
And when she speaks, is it not an alarum to love?
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
She is indeed perfection.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Well, happiness to their sheets! Come, lieutenant, I
|
|
have a stoup of wine; and here without are a brace
|
|
of Cyprus gallants that would fain have a measure to
|
|
the health of black Othello.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Not to-night, good Iago: I have very poor and
|
|
unhappy brains for drinking: I could well wish
|
|
courtesy would invent some other custom of
|
|
entertainment.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
O, they are our friends; but one cup: I'll drink for
|
|
you.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
I have drunk but one cup to-night, and that was
|
|
craftily qualified too, and, behold, what innovation
|
|
it makes here: I am unfortunate in the infirmity,
|
|
and dare not task my weakness with any more.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
What, man! 'tis a night of revels: the gallants
|
|
desire it.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Where are they?
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Here at the door; I pray you, call them in.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
I'll do't; but it dislikes me.
|
|
|
|
[[Exit]]
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
If I can fasten but one cup upon him,
|
|
With that which he hath drunk to-night already,
|
|
He'll be as full of quarrel and offence
|
|
As my young mistress' dog. Now, my sick fool Roderigo,
|
|
Whom love hath turn'd almost the wrong side out,
|
|
To Desdemona hath to-night caroused
|
|
Potations pottle-deep; and he's to watch:
|
|
Three lads of Cyprus, noble swelling spirits,
|
|
That hold their honours in a wary distance,
|
|
The very elements of this warlike isle,
|
|
Have I to-night fluster'd with flowing cups,
|
|
And they watch too. Now, 'mongst this flock of drunkards,
|
|
Am I to put our Cassio in some action
|
|
That may offend the isle.--But here they come:
|
|
If consequence do but approve my dream,
|
|
My boat sails freely, both with wind and stream.
|
|
|
|
[[Re-enter CASSIO; with him MONTANO and Gentlemen; servants following with wine]]
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
'Fore God, they have given me a rouse already.
|
|
|
|
MONTANO
|
|
|
|
Good faith, a little one; not past a pint, as I am
|
|
a soldier.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Some wine, ho!
|
|
|
|
[[Sings]]
|
|
And let me the canakin clink, clink;
|
|
And let me the canakin clink
|
|
A soldier's a man;
|
|
A life's but a span;
|
|
Why, then, let a soldier drink.
|
|
Some wine, boys!
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
'Fore God, an excellent song.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
I learned it in England, where, indeed, they are
|
|
most potent in potting: your Dane, your German, and
|
|
your swag-bellied Hollander--Drink, ho!--are nothing
|
|
to your English.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Is your Englishman so expert in his drinking?
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Why, he drinks you, with facility, your Dane dead
|
|
drunk; he sweats not to overthrow your Almain; he
|
|
gives your Hollander a vomit, ere the next pottle
|
|
can be filled.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
To the health of our general!
|
|
|
|
MONTANO
|
|
|
|
I am for it, lieutenant; and I'll do you justice.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
O sweet England!
|
|
King Stephen was a worthy peer,
|
|
His breeches cost him but a crown;
|
|
He held them sixpence all too dear,
|
|
With that he call'd the tailor lown.
|
|
He was a wight of high renown,
|
|
And thou art but of low degree:
|
|
'Tis pride that pulls the country down;
|
|
Then take thine auld cloak about thee.
|
|
Some wine, ho!
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Why, this is a more exquisite song than the other.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Will you hear't again?
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
No; for I hold him to be unworthy of his place that
|
|
does those things. Well, God's above all; and there
|
|
be souls must be saved, and there be souls must not be saved.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
It's true, good lieutenant.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
For mine own part,--no offence to the general, nor
|
|
any man of quality,--I hope to be saved.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
And so do I too, lieutenant.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Ay, but, by your leave, not before me; the
|
|
lieutenant is to be saved before the ancient. Let's
|
|
have no more of this; let's to our affairs.--Forgive
|
|
us our sins!--Gentlemen, let's look to our business.
|
|
Do not think, gentlemen. I am drunk: this is my
|
|
ancient; this is my right hand, and this is my left:
|
|
I am not drunk now; I can stand well enough, and
|
|
speak well enough.
|
|
|
|
All
|
|
|
|
Excellent well.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Why, very well then; you must not think then that I am drunk.
|
|
|
|
[[Exit]]
|
|
|
|
MONTANO
|
|
|
|
To the platform, masters; come, let's set the watch.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
You see this fellow that is gone before;
|
|
He is a soldier fit to stand by Caesar
|
|
And give direction: and do but see his vice;
|
|
'Tis to his virtue a just equinox,
|
|
The one as long as the other: 'tis pity of him.
|
|
I fear the trust Othello puts him in.
|
|
On some odd time of his infirmity,
|
|
Will shake this island.
|
|
|
|
MONTANO
|
|
|
|
But is he often thus?
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
'Tis evermore the prologue to his sleep:
|
|
He'll watch the horologe a double set,
|
|
If drink rock not his cradle.
|
|
|
|
MONTANO
|
|
|
|
It were well
|
|
The general were put in mind of it.
|
|
Perhaps he sees it not; or his good nature
|
|
Prizes the virtue that appears in Cassio,
|
|
And looks not on his evils: is not this true?
|
|
|
|
[[Enter RODERIGO]]
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
[[[Aside]] to him] How now, Roderigo!
|
|
I pray you, after the lieutenant; go.
|
|
|
|
[[Exit RODERIGO]]
|
|
|
|
MONTANO
|
|
|
|
And 'tis great pity that the noble Moor
|
|
Should hazard such a place as his own second
|
|
With one of an ingraft infirmity:
|
|
It were an honest action to say
|
|
So to the Moor.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Not I, for this fair island:
|
|
I do love Cassio well; and would do much
|
|
To cure him of this evil--But, hark! what noise?
|
|
|
|
[[Cry within: 'Help! help!']]
|
|
|
|
[[Re-enter CASSIO, driving in RODERIGO]]
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
You rogue! you rascal!
|
|
|
|
MONTANO
|
|
|
|
What's the matter, lieutenant?
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
A knave teach me my duty!
|
|
I'll beat the knave into a twiggen bottle.
|
|
|
|
RODERIGO
|
|
|
|
Beat me!
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Dost thou prate, rogue?
|
|
|
|
[[Striking RODERIGO]]
|
|
|
|
MONTANO
|
|
|
|
Nay, good lieutenant;
|
|
|
|
[[Staying him]]
|
|
I pray you, sir, hold your hand.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Let me go, sir,
|
|
Or I'll knock you o'er the mazzard.
|
|
|
|
MONTANO
|
|
|
|
Come, come,
|
|
you're drunk.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Drunk!
|
|
|
|
[[They fight]]
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
[Aside to RODERIGO] Away, I say; go out, and cry a mutiny.
|
|
|
|
[[Exit RODERIGO]]
|
|
Nay, good lieutenant,--alas, gentlemen;--
|
|
Help, ho!--Lieutenant,--sir,--Montano,--sir;
|
|
Help, masters!--Here's a goodly watch indeed!
|
|
|
|
[[Bell rings]]
|
|
Who's that which rings the bell?--Diablo, ho!
|
|
The town will rise: God's will, lieutenant, hold!
|
|
You will be shamed for ever.
|
|
|
|
[[Re-enter OTHELLO]] and Attendants
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
What is the matter here?
|
|
|
|
MONTANO
|
|
|
|
'Zounds, I bleed still; I am hurt to the death.
|
|
|
|
[[Faints]]
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Hold, for your lives!
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Hold, ho! Lieutenant,--sir--Montano,--gentlemen,--
|
|
Have you forgot all sense of place and duty?
|
|
Hold! the general speaks to you; hold, hold, for shame!
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Why, how now, ho! from whence ariseth this?
|
|
Are we turn'd Turks, and to ourselves do that
|
|
Which heaven hath forbid the Ottomites?
|
|
For Christian shame, put by this barbarous brawl:
|
|
He that stirs next to carve for his own rage
|
|
Holds his soul light; he dies upon his motion.
|
|
Silence that dreadful bell: it frights the isle
|
|
From her propriety. What is the matter, masters?
|
|
Honest Iago, that look'st dead with grieving,
|
|
Speak, who began this? on thy love, I charge thee.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
I do not know: friends all but now, even now,
|
|
In quarter, and in terms like bride and groom
|
|
Devesting them for bed; and then, but now--
|
|
As if some planet had unwitted men--
|
|
Swords out, and tilting one at other's breast,
|
|
In opposition bloody. I cannot speak
|
|
Any beginning to this peevish odds;
|
|
And would in action glorious I had lost
|
|
Those legs that brought me to a part of it!
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
How comes it, Michael, you are thus forgot?
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
I pray you, pardon me; I cannot speak.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Worthy Montano, you were wont be civil;
|
|
The gravity and stillness of your youth
|
|
The world hath noted, and your name is great
|
|
In mouths of wisest censure: what's the matter,
|
|
That you unlace your reputation thus
|
|
And spend your rich opinion for the name
|
|
Of a night-brawler? give me answer to it.
|
|
|
|
MONTANO
|
|
|
|
Worthy Othello, I am hurt to danger:
|
|
Your officer, Iago, can inform you,--
|
|
While I spare speech, which something now
|
|
offends me,--
|
|
Of all that I do know: nor know I aught
|
|
By me that's said or done amiss this night;
|
|
Unless self-charity be sometimes a vice,
|
|
And to defend ourselves it be a sin
|
|
When violence assails us.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Now, by heaven,
|
|
My blood begins my safer guides to rule;
|
|
And passion, having my best judgment collied,
|
|
Assays to lead the way: if I once stir,
|
|
Or do but lift this arm, the best of you
|
|
Shall sink in my rebuke. Give me to know
|
|
How this foul rout began, who set it on;
|
|
And he that is approved in this offence,
|
|
Though he had twinn'd with me, both at a birth,
|
|
Shall lose me. What! in a town of war,
|
|
Yet wild, the people's hearts brimful of fear,
|
|
To manage private and domestic quarrel,
|
|
In night, and on the court and guard of safety!
|
|
'Tis monstrous. Iago, who began't?
|
|
|
|
MONTANO
|
|
|
|
If partially affined, or leagued in office,
|
|
Thou dost deliver more or less than truth,
|
|
Thou art no soldier.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Touch me not so near:
|
|
I had rather have this tongue cut from my mouth
|
|
Than it should do offence to Michael Cassio;
|
|
Yet, I persuade myself, to speak the truth
|
|
Shall nothing wrong him. Thus it is, general.
|
|
Montano and myself being in speech,
|
|
There comes a fellow crying out for help:
|
|
And Cassio following him with determined sword,
|
|
To execute upon him. Sir, this gentleman
|
|
Steps in to Cassio, and entreats his pause:
|
|
Myself the crying fellow did pursue,
|
|
Lest by his clamour--as it so fell out--
|
|
The town might fall in fright: he, swift of foot,
|
|
Outran my purpose; and I return'd the rather
|
|
For that I heard the clink and fall of swords,
|
|
And Cassio high in oath; which till to-night
|
|
I ne'er might say before. When I came back--
|
|
For this was brief--I found them close together,
|
|
At blow and thrust; even as again they were
|
|
When you yourself did part them.
|
|
More of this matter cannot I report:
|
|
But men are men; the best sometimes forget:
|
|
Though Cassio did some little wrong to him,
|
|
As men in rage strike those that wish them best,
|
|
Yet surely Cassio, I believe, received
|
|
From him that fled some strange indignity,
|
|
Which patience could not pass.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
I know, Iago,
|
|
Thy honesty and love doth mince this matter,
|
|
Making it light to Cassio. Cassio, I love thee
|
|
But never more be officer of mine.
|
|
|
|
[[Re-enter DESDEMONA, attended]]
|
|
Look, if my gentle love be not raised up!
|
|
I'll make thee an example.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
What's the matter?
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
All's well now, sweeting; come away to bed.
|
|
Sir, for your hurts, myself will be your surgeon:
|
|
Lead him off.
|
|
|
|
[[To MONTANO, who is led off]]
|
|
Iago, look with care about the town,
|
|
And silence those whom this vile brawl distracted.
|
|
Come, Desdemona: 'tis the soldiers' life
|
|
To have their balmy slumbers waked with strife.
|
|
|
|
[[Exeunt all but IAGO and CASSIO]]
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
What, are you hurt, lieutenant?
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Ay, past all surgery.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Marry, heaven forbid!
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Reputation, reputation, reputation! O, I have lost
|
|
my reputation! I have lost the immortal part of
|
|
myself, and what remains is bestial. My reputation,
|
|
Iago, my reputation!
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
As I am an honest man, I thought you had received
|
|
some bodily wound; there is more sense in that than
|
|
in reputation. Reputation is an idle and most false
|
|
imposition: oft got without merit, and lost without
|
|
deserving: you have lost no reputation at all,
|
|
unless you repute yourself such a loser. What, man!
|
|
there are ways to recover the general again: you
|
|
are but now cast in his mood, a punishment more in
|
|
policy than in malice, even so as one would beat his
|
|
offenceless dog to affright an imperious lion: sue
|
|
to him again, and he's yours.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
I will rather sue to be despised than to deceive so
|
|
good a commander with so slight, so drunken, and so
|
|
indiscreet an officer. Drunk? and speak parrot?
|
|
and squabble? swagger? swear? and discourse
|
|
fustian with one's own shadow? O thou invisible
|
|
spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be known by,
|
|
let us call thee devil!
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
What was he that you followed with your sword? What
|
|
had he done to you?
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
I know not.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Is't possible?
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly;
|
|
a quarrel, but nothing wherefore. O God, that men
|
|
should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away
|
|
their brains! that we should, with joy, pleasance
|
|
revel and applause, transform ourselves into beasts!
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Why, but you are now well enough: how came you thus
|
|
recovered?
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
It hath pleased the devil drunkenness to give place
|
|
to the devil wrath; one unperfectness shows me
|
|
another, to make me frankly despise myself.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Come, you are too severe a moraler: as the time,
|
|
the place, and the condition of this country
|
|
stands, I could heartily wish this had not befallen;
|
|
but, since it is as it is, mend it for your own good.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
I will ask him for my place again; he shall tell me
|
|
I am a drunkard! Had I as many mouths as Hydra,
|
|
such an answer would stop them all. To be now a
|
|
sensible man, by and by a fool, and presently a
|
|
beast! O strange! Every inordinate cup is
|
|
unblessed and the ingredient is a devil.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Come, come, good wine is a good familiar creature,
|
|
if it be well used: exclaim no more against it.
|
|
And, good lieutenant, I think you think I love you.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
I have well approved it, sir. I drunk!
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
You or any man living may be drunk! at a time, man.
|
|
I'll tell you what you shall do. Our general's wife
|
|
is now the general: may say so in this respect, for
|
|
that he hath devoted and given up himself to the
|
|
contemplation, mark, and denotement of her parts and
|
|
graces: confess yourself freely to her; importune
|
|
her help to put you in your place again: she is of
|
|
so free, so kind, so apt, so blessed a disposition,
|
|
she holds it a vice in her goodness not to do more
|
|
than she is requested: this broken joint between
|
|
you and her husband entreat her to splinter; and, my
|
|
fortunes against any lay worth naming, this
|
|
crack of your love shall grow stronger than it was before.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
You advise me well.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
I protest, in the sincerity of love and honest kindness.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
I think it freely; and betimes in the morning I will
|
|
beseech the virtuous Desdemona to undertake for me:
|
|
I am desperate of my fortunes if they cheque me here.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
You are in the right. Good night, lieutenant; I
|
|
must to the watch.
|
|
CASSIO: Good night, honest Iago.
|
|
|
|
[[Exit]]
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
And what's he then that says I play the villain?
|
|
When this advice is free I give and honest,
|
|
Probal to thinking and indeed the course
|
|
To win the Moor again? For 'tis most easy
|
|
The inclining Desdemona to subdue
|
|
In any honest suit: she's framed as fruitful
|
|
As the free elements. And then for her
|
|
To win the Moor--were't to renounce his baptism,
|
|
All seals and symbols of redeemed sin,
|
|
His soul is so enfetter'd to her love,
|
|
That she may make, unmake, do what she list,
|
|
Even as her appetite shall play the god
|
|
With his weak function. How am I then a villain
|
|
To counsel Cassio to this parallel course,
|
|
Directly to his good? Divinity of hell!
|
|
When devils will the blackest sins put on,
|
|
They do suggest at first with heavenly shows,
|
|
As I do now: for whiles this honest fool
|
|
Plies Desdemona to repair his fortunes
|
|
And she for him pleads strongly to the Moor,
|
|
I'll pour this pestilence into his ear,
|
|
That she repeals him for her body's lust;
|
|
And by how much she strives to do him good,
|
|
She shall undo her credit with the Moor.
|
|
So will I turn her virtue into pitch,
|
|
And out of her own goodness make the net
|
|
That shall enmesh them all.
|
|
|
|
[[Re-enter RODERIGO]]
|
|
How now, Roderigo!
|
|
|
|
RODERIGO
|
|
|
|
I do follow here in the chase, not like a hound that
|
|
hunts, but one that fills up the cry. My money is
|
|
almost spent; I have been to-night exceedingly well
|
|
cudgelled; and I think the issue will be, I shall
|
|
have so much experience for my pains, and so, with
|
|
no money at all and a little more wit, return again to Venice.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
How poor are they that have not patience!
|
|
What wound did ever heal but by degrees?
|
|
Thou know'st we work by wit, and not by witchcraft;
|
|
And wit depends on dilatory time.
|
|
Does't not go well? Cassio hath beaten thee.
|
|
And thou, by that small hurt, hast cashier'd Cassio:
|
|
Though other things grow fair against the sun,
|
|
Yet fruits that blossom first will first be ripe:
|
|
Content thyself awhile. By the mass, 'tis morning;
|
|
Pleasure and action make the hours seem short.
|
|
Retire thee; go where thou art billeted:
|
|
Away, I say; thou shalt know more hereafter:
|
|
Nay, get thee gone.
|
|
|
|
[[Exit RODERIGO]]
|
|
Two things are to be done:
|
|
My wife must move for Cassio to her mistress;
|
|
I'll set her on;
|
|
Myself the while to draw the Moor apart,
|
|
And bring him jump when he may Cassio find
|
|
Soliciting his wife: ay, that's the way
|
|
Dull not device by coldness and delay.
|
|
|
|
[[Exit]]
|
|
|
|
ACT III
|
|
SCENE I. Before the castle.
|
|
|
|
[[Enter CASSIO and some Musicians]]
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Masters, play here; I will content your pains;
|
|
Something that's brief; and bid 'Good morrow, general.'
|
|
|
|
[[Music]]
|
|
|
|
[[Enter Clown]]
|
|
|
|
Clown
|
|
|
|
Why masters, have your instruments been in Naples,
|
|
that they speak i' the nose thus?
|
|
|
|
First Musician
|
|
|
|
How, sir, how!
|
|
|
|
Clown
|
|
|
|
Are these, I pray you, wind-instruments?
|
|
|
|
First Musician
|
|
|
|
Ay, marry, are they, sir.
|
|
|
|
Clown
|
|
|
|
O, thereby hangs a tail.
|
|
|
|
First Musician
|
|
|
|
Whereby hangs a tale, sir?
|
|
|
|
Clown
|
|
|
|
Marry. sir, by many a wind-instrument that I know.
|
|
But, masters, here's money for you: and the general
|
|
so likes your music, that he desires you, for love's
|
|
sake, to make no more noise with it.
|
|
|
|
First Musician
|
|
|
|
Well, sir, we will not.
|
|
|
|
Clown
|
|
|
|
If you have any music that may not be heard, to't
|
|
again: but, as they say to hear music the general
|
|
does not greatly care.
|
|
|
|
First Musician
|
|
|
|
We have none such, sir.
|
|
|
|
Clown
|
|
|
|
Then put up your pipes in your bag, for I'll away:
|
|
go; vanish into air; away!
|
|
|
|
[[Exeunt Musicians]]
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Dost thou hear, my honest friend?
|
|
|
|
Clown
|
|
|
|
No, I hear not your honest friend; I hear you.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Prithee, keep up thy quillets. There's a poor piece
|
|
of gold for thee: if the gentlewoman that attends
|
|
the general's wife be stirring, tell her there's
|
|
one Cassio entreats her a little favour of speech:
|
|
wilt thou do this?
|
|
|
|
Clown
|
|
|
|
She is stirring, sir: if she will stir hither, I
|
|
shall seem to notify unto her.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Do, good my friend.
|
|
|
|
[[Exit Clown]]
|
|
|
|
[[Enter IAGO]]
|
|
In happy time, Iago.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
You have not been a-bed, then?
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Why, no; the day had broke
|
|
Before we parted. I have made bold, Iago,
|
|
To send in to your wife: my suit to her
|
|
Is, that she will to virtuous Desdemona
|
|
Procure me some access.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
I'll send her to you presently;
|
|
And I'll devise a mean to draw the Moor
|
|
Out of the way, that your converse and business
|
|
May be more free.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
I humbly thank you for't.
|
|
|
|
[[Exit IAGO]]
|
|
I never knew
|
|
A Florentine more kind and honest.
|
|
|
|
[[Enter EMILIA]]
|
|
|
|
EMILIA
|
|
|
|
Good morrow, good Lieutenant: I am sorry
|
|
For your displeasure; but all will sure be well.
|
|
The general and his wife are talking of it;
|
|
And she speaks for you stoutly: the Moor replies,
|
|
That he you hurt is of great fame in Cyprus,
|
|
And great affinity, and that in wholesome wisdom
|
|
He might not but refuse you; but he protests he loves you
|
|
And needs no other suitor but his likings
|
|
To take the safest occasion by the front
|
|
To bring you in again.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Yet, I beseech you,
|
|
If you think fit, or that it may be done,
|
|
Give me advantage of some brief discourse
|
|
With Desdemona alone.
|
|
|
|
EMILIA
|
|
|
|
Pray you, come in;
|
|
I will bestow you where you shall have time
|
|
To speak your bosom freely.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
I am much bound to you.
|
|
|
|
[[Exeunt]]
|
|
|
|
SCENE II. A room in the castle.
|
|
|
|
[[Enter OTHELLO, IAGO, and Gentlemen]]
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
These letters give, Iago, to the pilot;
|
|
And by him do my duties to the senate:
|
|
That done, I will be walking on the works;
|
|
Repair there to me.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Well, my good lord, I'll do't.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
This fortification, gentlemen, shall we see't?
|
|
|
|
Gentleman
|
|
|
|
We'll wait upon your lordship.
|
|
|
|
[[Exeunt]]
|
|
|
|
SCENE III. The garden of the castle.
|
|
|
|
[[Enter DESDEMONA, CASSIO, and EMILIA]]
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Be thou assured, good Cassio, I will do
|
|
All my abilities in thy behalf.
|
|
|
|
EMILIA
|
|
|
|
Good madam, do: I warrant it grieves my husband,
|
|
As if the case were his.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
O, that's an honest fellow. Do not doubt, Cassio,
|
|
But I will have my lord and you again
|
|
As friendly as you were.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Bounteous madam,
|
|
Whatever shall become of Michael Cassio,
|
|
He's never any thing but your true servant.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
I know't; I thank you. You do love my lord:
|
|
You have known him long; and be you well assured
|
|
He shall in strangeness stand no further off
|
|
Than in a polite distance.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Ay, but, lady,
|
|
That policy may either last so long,
|
|
Or feed upon such nice and waterish diet,
|
|
Or breed itself so out of circumstance,
|
|
That, I being absent and my place supplied,
|
|
My general will forget my love and service.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Do not doubt that; before Emilia here
|
|
I give thee warrant of thy place: assure thee,
|
|
If I do vow a friendship, I'll perform it
|
|
To the last article: my lord shall never rest;
|
|
I'll watch him tame and talk him out of patience;
|
|
His bed shall seem a school, his board a shrift;
|
|
I'll intermingle every thing he does
|
|
With Cassio's suit: therefore be merry, Cassio;
|
|
For thy solicitor shall rather die
|
|
Than give thy cause away.
|
|
|
|
EMILIA
|
|
|
|
Madam, here comes my lord.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Madam, I'll take my leave.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Why, stay, and hear me speak.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Madam, not now: I am very ill at ease,
|
|
Unfit for mine own purposes.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Well, do your discretion.
|
|
|
|
[[Exit CASSIO]]
|
|
|
|
[[Enter OTHELLO and IAGO]]
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Ha! I like not that.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
What dost thou say?
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Nothing, my lord: or if--I know not what.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Was not that Cassio parted from my wife?
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Cassio, my lord! No, sure, I cannot think it,
|
|
That he would steal away so guilty-like,
|
|
Seeing you coming.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
I do believe 'twas he.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
How now, my lord!
|
|
I have been talking with a suitor here,
|
|
A man that languishes in your displeasure.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Who is't you mean?
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Why, your lieutenant, Cassio. Good my lord,
|
|
If I have any grace or power to move you,
|
|
His present reconciliation take;
|
|
For if he be not one that truly loves you,
|
|
That errs in ignorance and not in cunning,
|
|
I have no judgment in an honest face:
|
|
I prithee, call him back.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Went he hence now?
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Ay, sooth; so humbled
|
|
That he hath left part of his grief with me,
|
|
To suffer with him. Good love, call him back.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Not now, sweet Desdemona; some other time.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
But shall't be shortly?
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
The sooner, sweet, for you.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Shall't be to-night at supper?
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
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No, not to-night.
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DESDEMONA
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To-morrow dinner, then?
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OTHELLO
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I shall not dine at home;
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I meet the captains at the citadel.
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DESDEMONA
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Why, then, to-morrow night; or Tuesday morn;
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On Tuesday noon, or night; on Wednesday morn:
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I prithee, name the time, but let it not
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Exceed three days: in faith, he's penitent;
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And yet his trespass, in our common reason--
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Save that, they say, the wars must make examples
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Out of their best--is not almost a fault
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To incur a private cheque. When shall he come?
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Tell me, Othello: I wonder in my soul,
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What you would ask me, that I should deny,
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Or stand so mammering on. What! Michael Cassio,
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That came a-wooing with you, and so many a time,
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When I have spoke of you dispraisingly,
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Hath ta'en your part; to have so much to do
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To bring him in! Trust me, I could do much,--
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OTHELLO
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Prithee, no more: let him come when he will;
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I will deny thee nothing.
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DESDEMONA
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Why, this is not a boon;
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'Tis as I should entreat you wear your gloves,
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Or feed on nourishing dishes, or keep you warm,
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Or sue to you to do a peculiar profit
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To your own person: nay, when I have a suit
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Wherein I mean to touch your love indeed,
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It shall be full of poise and difficult weight
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And fearful to be granted.
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OTHELLO
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I will deny thee nothing:
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Whereon, I do beseech thee, grant me this,
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To leave me but a little to myself.
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DESDEMONA
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Shall I deny you? no: farewell, my lord.
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OTHELLO
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Farewell, my Desdemona: I'll come to thee straight.
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DESDEMONA
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Emilia, come. Be as your fancies teach you;
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Whate'er you be, I am obedient.
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[[Exeunt DESDEMONA and EMILIA]]
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OTHELLO
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Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul,
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But I do love thee! and when I love thee not,
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Chaos is come again.
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IAGO
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My noble lord--
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OTHELLO
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What dost thou say, Iago?
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IAGO
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Did Michael Cassio, when you woo'd my lady,
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Know of your love?
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OTHELLO
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He did, from first to last: why dost thou ask?
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IAGO
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But for a satisfaction of my thought;
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No further harm.
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OTHELLO
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Why of thy thought, Iago?
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IAGO
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I did not think he had been acquainted with her.
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OTHELLO
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O, yes; and went between us very oft.
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IAGO
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Indeed!
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OTHELLO
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Indeed! ay, indeed: discern'st thou aught in that?
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Is he not honest?
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IAGO
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Honest, my lord!
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OTHELLO
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Honest! ay, honest.
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IAGO
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My lord, for aught I know.
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OTHELLO
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What dost thou think?
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IAGO
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Think, my lord!
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OTHELLO
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Think, my lord!
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By heaven, he echoes me,
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As if there were some monster in his thought
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Too hideous to be shown. Thou dost mean something:
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I heard thee say even now, thou likedst not that,
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When Cassio left my wife: what didst not like?
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And when I told thee he was of my counsel
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In my whole course of wooing, thou criedst 'Indeed!'
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And didst contract and purse thy brow together,
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As if thou then hadst shut up in thy brain
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Some horrible conceit: if thou dost love me,
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Show me thy thought.
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IAGO
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My lord, you know I love you.
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OTHELLO
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I think thou dost;
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And, for I know thou'rt full of love and honesty,
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And weigh'st thy words before thou givest them breath,
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Therefore these stops of thine fright me the more:
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For such things in a false disloyal knave
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Are tricks of custom, but in a man that's just
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They are close delations, working from the heart
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That passion cannot rule.
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IAGO
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For Michael Cassio,
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I dare be sworn I think that he is honest.
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OTHELLO
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I think so too.
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IAGO
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Men should be what they seem;
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Or those that be not, would they might seem none!
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OTHELLO
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Certain, men should be what they seem.
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IAGO
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Why, then, I think Cassio's an honest man.
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OTHELLO
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Nay, yet there's more in this:
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I prithee, speak to me as to thy thinkings,
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As thou dost ruminate, and give thy worst of thoughts
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The worst of words.
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IAGO
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Good my lord, pardon me:
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Though I am bound to every act of duty,
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I am not bound to that all slaves are free to.
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Utter my thoughts? Why, say they are vile and false;
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As where's that palace whereinto foul things
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Sometimes intrude not? who has a breast so pure,
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But some uncleanly apprehensions
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Keep leets and law-days and in session sit
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With meditations lawful?
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OTHELLO
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Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago,
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If thou but think'st him wrong'd and makest his ear
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A stranger to thy thoughts.
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IAGO
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I do beseech you--
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Though I perchance am vicious in my guess,
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As, I confess, it is my nature's plague
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To spy into abuses, and oft my jealousy
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Shapes faults that are not--that your wisdom yet,
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From one that so imperfectly conceits,
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Would take no notice, nor build yourself a trouble
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Out of his scattering and unsure observance.
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It were not for your quiet nor your good,
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Nor for my manhood, honesty, or wisdom,
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To let you know my thoughts.
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OTHELLO
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What dost thou mean?
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IAGO
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Good name in man and woman, dear my lord,
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Is the immediate jewel of their souls:
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Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing;
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'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands:
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But he that filches from me my good name
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Robs me of that which not enriches him
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And makes me poor indeed.
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OTHELLO
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By heaven, I'll know thy thoughts.
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IAGO
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You cannot, if my heart were in your hand;
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Nor shall not, whilst 'tis in my custody.
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OTHELLO
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Ha!
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IAGO
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O, beware, my lord, of jealousy;
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It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock
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The meat it feeds on; that cuckold lives in bliss
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Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger;
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But, O, what damned minutes tells he o'er
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Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves!
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OTHELLO
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O misery!
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IAGO
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Poor and content is rich and rich enough,
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But riches fineless is as poor as winter
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To him that ever fears he shall be poor.
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Good heaven, the souls of all my tribe defend
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From jealousy!
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OTHELLO
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Why, why is this?
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Think'st thou I'ld make a lie of jealousy,
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To follow still the changes of the moon
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With fresh suspicions? No; to be once in doubt
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Is once to be resolved: exchange me for a goat,
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When I shall turn the business of my soul
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To such exsufflicate and blown surmises,
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Matching thy inference. 'Tis not to make me jealous
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To say my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company,
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Is free of speech, sings, plays and dances well;
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Where virtue is, these are more virtuous:
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Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw
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The smallest fear or doubt of her revolt;
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For she had eyes, and chose me. No, Iago;
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I'll see before I doubt; when I doubt, prove;
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And on the proof, there is no more but this,--
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Away at once with love or jealousy!
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IAGO
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I am glad of it; for now I shall have reason
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To show the love and duty that I bear you
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With franker spirit: therefore, as I am bound,
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Receive it from me. I speak not yet of proof.
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Look to your wife; observe her well with Cassio;
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Wear your eye thus, not jealous nor secure:
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I would not have your free and noble nature,
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Out of self-bounty, be abused; look to't:
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I know our country disposition well;
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In Venice they do let heaven see the pranks
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They dare not show their husbands; their best conscience
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Is not to leave't undone, but keep't unknown.
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OTHELLO
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Dost thou say so?
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IAGO
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She did deceive her father, marrying you;
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And when she seem'd to shake and fear your looks,
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She loved them most.
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OTHELLO
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And so she did.
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IAGO
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Why, go to then;
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She that, so young, could give out such a seeming,
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To seal her father's eyes up close as oak-
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He thought 'twas witchcraft--but I am much to blame;
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I humbly do beseech you of your pardon
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For too much loving you.
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OTHELLO
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I am bound to thee for ever.
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IAGO
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I see this hath a little dash'd your spirits.
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OTHELLO
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Not a jot, not a jot.
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IAGO
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I' faith, I fear it has.
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I hope you will consider what is spoke
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Comes from my love. But I do see you're moved:
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I am to pray you not to strain my speech
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To grosser issues nor to larger reach
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Than to suspicion.
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OTHELLO
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I will not.
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IAGO
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Should you do so, my lord,
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My speech should fall into such vile success
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As my thoughts aim not at. Cassio's my worthy friend--
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My lord, I see you're moved.
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OTHELLO
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No, not much moved:
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I do not think but Desdemona's honest.
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IAGO
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Long live she so! and long live you to think so!
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OTHELLO
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And yet, how nature erring from itself,--
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IAGO
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Ay, there's the point: as--to be bold with you--
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Not to affect many proposed matches
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Of her own clime, complexion, and degree,
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Whereto we see in all things nature tends--
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Foh! one may smell in such a will most rank,
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Foul disproportion thoughts unnatural.
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But pardon me; I do not in position
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Distinctly speak of her; though I may fear
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Her will, recoiling to her better judgment,
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May fall to match you with her country forms
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And happily repent.
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OTHELLO
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Farewell, farewell:
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If more thou dost perceive, let me know more;
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Set on thy wife to observe: leave me, Iago:
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IAGO
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[Going] My lord, I take my leave.
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OTHELLO
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Why did I marry? This honest creature doubtless
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Sees and knows more, much more, than he unfolds.
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IAGO
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[Returning] My lord, I would I might entreat
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your honour
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To scan this thing no further; leave it to time:
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Though it be fit that Cassio have his place,
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For sure, he fills it up with great ability,
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Yet, if you please to hold him off awhile,
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You shall by that perceive him and his means:
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Note, if your lady strain his entertainment
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With any strong or vehement importunity;
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Much will be seen in that. In the mean time,
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Let me be thought too busy in my fears--
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As worthy cause I have to fear I am--
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And hold her free, I do beseech your honour.
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OTHELLO
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Fear not my government.
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IAGO
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I once more take my leave.
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[[Exit]]
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OTHELLO
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This fellow's of exceeding honesty,
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And knows all qualities, with a learned spirit,
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Of human dealings. If I do prove her haggard,
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Though that her jesses were my dear heartstrings,
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I'ld whistle her off and let her down the wind,
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To pray at fortune. Haply, for I am black
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And have not those soft parts of conversation
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That chamberers have, or for I am declined
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Into the vale of years,--yet that's not much--
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She's gone. I am abused; and my relief
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Must be to loathe her. O curse of marriage,
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That we can call these delicate creatures ours,
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And not their appetites! I had rather be a toad,
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And live upon the vapour of a dungeon,
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Than keep a corner in the thing I love
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For others' uses. Yet, 'tis the plague of great ones;
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Prerogatived are they less than the base;
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'Tis destiny unshunnable, like death:
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Even then this forked plague is fated to us
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When we do quicken. Desdemona comes:
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[[Re-enter DESDEMONA and EMILIA]]
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If she be false, O, then heaven mocks itself!
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I'll not believe't.
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DESDEMONA
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How now, my dear Othello!
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Your dinner, and the generous islanders
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By you invited, do attend your presence.
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OTHELLO
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I am to blame.
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DESDEMONA
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Why do you speak so faintly?
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Are you not well?
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OTHELLO
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I have a pain upon my forehead here.
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DESDEMONA
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'Faith, that's with watching; 'twill away again:
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Let me but bind it hard, within this hour
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It will be well.
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OTHELLO
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Your napkin is too little:
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[[He puts the handkerchief from him; and it drops]]
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Let it alone. Come, I'll go in with you.
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DESDEMONA
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I am very sorry that you are not well.
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[[Exeunt OTHELLO and DESDEMONA]]
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EMILIA
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I am glad I have found this napkin:
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This was her first remembrance from the Moor:
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My wayward husband hath a hundred times
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Woo'd me to steal it; but she so loves the token,
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For he conjured her she should ever keep it,
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That she reserves it evermore about her
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To kiss and talk to. I'll have the work ta'en out,
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And give't Iago: what he will do with it
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Heaven knows, not I;
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I nothing but to please his fantasy.
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[[Re-enter Iago]]
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IAGO
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How now! what do you here alone?
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EMILIA
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Do not you chide; I have a thing for you.
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IAGO
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A thing for me? it is a common thing--
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EMILIA
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Ha!
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IAGO
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To have a foolish wife.
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EMILIA
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O, is that all? What will you give me now
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For the same handkerchief?
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IAGO
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What handkerchief?
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EMILIA
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What handkerchief?
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Why, that the Moor first gave to Desdemona;
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That which so often you did bid me steal.
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IAGO
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Hast stol'n it from her?
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EMILIA
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No, 'faith; she let it drop by negligence.
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And, to the advantage, I, being here, took't up.
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Look, here it is.
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IAGO
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A good wench; give it me.
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EMILIA
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What will you do with 't, that you have been
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so earnest
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To have me filch it?
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IAGO
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[Snatching it] Why, what's that to you?
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EMILIA
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If it be not for some purpose of import,
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Give't me again: poor lady, she'll run mad
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When she shall lack it.
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IAGO
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Be not acknown on 't; I have use for it.
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Go, leave me.
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[[Exit EMILIA]]
|
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I will in Cassio's lodging lose this napkin,
|
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And let him find it. Trifles light as air
|
|
Are to the jealous confirmations strong
|
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As proofs of holy writ: this may do something.
|
|
The Moor already changes with my poison:
|
|
Dangerous conceits are, in their natures, poisons.
|
|
Which at the first are scarce found to distaste,
|
|
But with a little act upon the blood.
|
|
Burn like the mines of Sulphur. I did say so:
|
|
Look, where he comes!
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[[Re-enter OTHELLO]]
|
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Not poppy, nor mandragora,
|
|
Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world,
|
|
Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep
|
|
Which thou owedst yesterday.
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OTHELLO
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Ha! ha! false to me?
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IAGO
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Why, how now, general! no more of that.
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OTHELLO
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Avaunt! be gone! thou hast set me on the rack:
|
|
I swear 'tis better to be much abused
|
|
Than but to know't a little.
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IAGO
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How now, my lord!
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OTHELLO
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|
What sense had I of her stol'n hours of lust?
|
|
I saw't not, thought it not, it harm'd not me:
|
|
I slept the next night well, was free and merry;
|
|
I found not Cassio's kisses on her lips:
|
|
He that is robb'd, not wanting what is stol'n,
|
|
Let him not know't, and he's not robb'd at all.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
I am sorry to hear this.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
I had been happy, if the general camp,
|
|
Pioners and all, had tasted her sweet body,
|
|
So I had nothing known. O, now, for ever
|
|
Farewell the tranquil mind! farewell content!
|
|
Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars,
|
|
That make ambition virtue! O, farewell!
|
|
Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump,
|
|
The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife,
|
|
The royal banner, and all quality,
|
|
Pride, pomp and circumstance of glorious war!
|
|
And, O you mortal engines, whose rude throats
|
|
The immortal Jove's dead clamours counterfeit,
|
|
Farewell! Othello's occupation's gone!
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Is't possible, my lord?
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Villain, be sure thou prove my love a whore,
|
|
Be sure of it; give me the ocular proof:
|
|
Or by the worth of man's eternal soul,
|
|
Thou hadst been better have been born a dog
|
|
Than answer my waked wrath!
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Is't come to this?
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Make me to see't; or, at the least, so prove it,
|
|
That the probation bear no hinge nor loop
|
|
To hang a doubt on; or woe upon thy life!
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
My noble lord,--
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
If thou dost slander her and torture me,
|
|
Never pray more; abandon all remorse;
|
|
On horror's head horrors accumulate;
|
|
Do deeds to make heaven weep, all earth amazed;
|
|
For nothing canst thou to damnation add
|
|
Greater than that.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
O grace! O heaven forgive me!
|
|
Are you a man? have you a soul or sense?
|
|
God be wi' you; take mine office. O wretched fool.
|
|
That livest to make thine honesty a vice!
|
|
O monstrous world! Take note, take note, O world,
|
|
To be direct and honest is not safe.
|
|
I thank you for this profit; and from hence
|
|
I'll love no friend, sith love breeds such offence.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Nay, stay: thou shouldst be honest.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
I should be wise, for honesty's a fool
|
|
And loses that it works for.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
By the world,
|
|
I think my wife be honest and think she is not;
|
|
I think that thou art just and think thou art not.
|
|
I'll have some proof. Her name, that was as fresh
|
|
As Dian's visage, is now begrimed and black
|
|
As mine own face. If there be cords, or knives,
|
|
Poison, or fire, or suffocating streams,
|
|
I'll not endure it. Would I were satisfied!
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
I see, sir, you are eaten up with passion:
|
|
I do repent me that I put it to you.
|
|
You would be satisfied?
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Would! nay, I will.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
And may: but, how? how satisfied, my lord?
|
|
Would you, the supervisor, grossly gape on--
|
|
Behold her topp'd?
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Death and damnation! O!
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
It were a tedious difficulty, I think,
|
|
To bring them to that prospect: damn them then,
|
|
If ever mortal eyes do see them bolster
|
|
More than their own! What then? how then?
|
|
What shall I say? Where's satisfaction?
|
|
It is impossible you should see this,
|
|
Were they as prime as goats, as hot as monkeys,
|
|
As salt as wolves in pride, and fools as gross
|
|
As ignorance made drunk. But yet, I say,
|
|
If imputation and strong circumstances,
|
|
Which lead directly to the door of truth,
|
|
Will give you satisfaction, you may have't.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Give me a living reason she's disloyal.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
I do not like the office:
|
|
But, sith I am enter'd in this cause so far,
|
|
Prick'd to't by foolish honesty and love,
|
|
I will go on. I lay with Cassio lately;
|
|
And, being troubled with a raging tooth,
|
|
I could not sleep.
|
|
There are a kind of men so loose of soul,
|
|
That in their sleeps will mutter their affairs:
|
|
One of this kind is Cassio:
|
|
In sleep I heard him say 'Sweet Desdemona,
|
|
Let us be wary, let us hide our loves;'
|
|
And then, sir, would he gripe and wring my hand,
|
|
Cry 'O sweet creature!' and then kiss me hard,
|
|
As if he pluck'd up kisses by the roots
|
|
That grew upon my lips: then laid his leg
|
|
Over my thigh, and sigh'd, and kiss'd; and then
|
|
Cried 'Cursed fate that gave thee to the Moor!'
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
O monstrous! monstrous!
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Nay, this was but his dream.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
But this denoted a foregone conclusion:
|
|
'Tis a shrewd doubt, though it be but a dream.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
And this may help to thicken other proofs
|
|
That do demonstrate thinly.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
I'll tear her all to pieces.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Nay, but be wise: yet we see nothing done;
|
|
She may be honest yet. Tell me but this,
|
|
Have you not sometimes seen a handkerchief
|
|
Spotted with strawberries in your wife's hand?
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
I gave her such a one; 'twas my first gift.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
I know not that; but such a handkerchief--
|
|
I am sure it was your wife's--did I to-day
|
|
See Cassio wipe his beard with.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
If it be that--
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
If it be that, or any that was hers,
|
|
It speaks against her with the other proofs.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
O, that the slave had forty thousand lives!
|
|
One is too poor, too weak for my revenge.
|
|
Now do I see 'tis true. Look here, Iago;
|
|
All my fond love thus do I blow to heaven.
|
|
'Tis gone.
|
|
Arise, black vengeance, from thy hollow cell!
|
|
Yield up, O love, thy crown and hearted throne
|
|
To tyrannous hate! Swell, bosom, with thy fraught,
|
|
For 'tis of aspics' tongues!
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Yet be content.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
O, blood, blood, blood!
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Patience, I say; your mind perhaps may change.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Never, Iago: Like to the Pontic sea,
|
|
Whose icy current and compulsive course
|
|
Ne'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on
|
|
To the Propontic and the Hellespont,
|
|
Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace,
|
|
Shall ne'er look back, ne'er ebb to humble love,
|
|
Till that a capable and wide revenge
|
|
Swallow them up. Now, by yond marble heaven,
|
|
|
|
[[Kneels]]
|
|
In the due reverence of a sacred vow
|
|
I here engage my words.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Do not rise yet.
|
|
|
|
[[Kneels]]
|
|
Witness, you ever-burning lights above,
|
|
You elements that clip us round about,
|
|
Witness that here Iago doth give up
|
|
The execution of his wit, hands, heart,
|
|
To wrong'd Othello's service! Let him command,
|
|
And to obey shall be in me remorse,
|
|
What bloody business ever.
|
|
|
|
[[They rise]]
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
I greet thy love,
|
|
Not with vain thanks, but with acceptance bounteous,
|
|
And will upon the instant put thee to't:
|
|
Within these three days let me hear thee say
|
|
That Cassio's not alive.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
My friend is dead; 'tis done at your request:
|
|
But let her live.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Damn her, lewd minx! O, damn her!
|
|
Come, go with me apart; I will withdraw,
|
|
To furnish me with some swift means of death
|
|
For the fair devil. Now art thou my lieutenant.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
I am your own for ever.
|
|
|
|
[[Exeunt]]
|
|
|
|
SCENE IV. Before the castle.
|
|
|
|
[[Enter DESDEMONA, EMILIA, and Clown]]
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Do you know, sirrah, where Lieutenant Cassio lies?
|
|
|
|
Clown
|
|
|
|
I dare not say he lies any where.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Why, man?
|
|
|
|
Clown
|
|
|
|
He's a soldier, and for one to say a soldier lies,
|
|
is stabbing.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Go to: where lodges he?
|
|
|
|
Clown
|
|
|
|
To tell you where he lodges, is to tell you where I lie.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Can any thing be made of this?
|
|
|
|
Clown
|
|
|
|
I know not where he lodges, and for me to devise a
|
|
lodging and say he lies here or he lies there, were
|
|
to lie in mine own throat.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Can you inquire him out, and be edified by report?
|
|
|
|
Clown
|
|
|
|
I will catechise the world for him; that is, make
|
|
questions, and by them answer.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Seek him, bid him come hither: tell him I have
|
|
moved my lord on his behalf, and hope all will be well.
|
|
|
|
Clown
|
|
|
|
To do this is within the compass of man's wit: and
|
|
therefore I will attempt the doing it.
|
|
|
|
[[Exit]]
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Where should I lose that handkerchief, Emilia?
|
|
|
|
EMILIA
|
|
|
|
I know not, madam.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Believe me, I had rather have lost my purse
|
|
Full of crusadoes: and, but my noble Moor
|
|
Is true of mind and made of no such baseness
|
|
As jealous creatures are, it were enough
|
|
To put him to ill thinking.
|
|
|
|
EMILIA
|
|
|
|
Is he not jealous?
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Who, he? I think the sun where he was born
|
|
Drew all such humours from him.
|
|
|
|
EMILIA
|
|
|
|
Look, where he comes.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
I will not leave him now till Cassio
|
|
Be call'd to him.
|
|
|
|
[[Enter OTHELLO]]
|
|
How is't with you, my lord
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Well, my good lady.
|
|
|
|
[[Aside]]
|
|
O, hardness to dissemble!--
|
|
How do you, Desdemona?
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Well, my good lord.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Give me your hand: this hand is moist, my lady.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
It yet hath felt no age nor known no sorrow.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
This argues fruitfulness and liberal heart:
|
|
Hot, hot, and moist: this hand of yours requires
|
|
A sequester from liberty, fasting and prayer,
|
|
Much castigation, exercise devout;
|
|
For here's a young and sweating devil here,
|
|
That commonly rebels. 'Tis a good hand,
|
|
A frank one.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
You may, indeed, say so;
|
|
For 'twas that hand that gave away my heart.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
A liberal hand: the hearts of old gave hands;
|
|
But our new heraldry is hands, not hearts.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
I cannot speak of this. Come now, your promise.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
What promise, chuck?
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
I have sent to bid Cassio come speak with you.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
I have a salt and sorry rheum offends me;
|
|
Lend me thy handkerchief.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Here, my lord.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
That which I gave you.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
I have it not about me.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Not?
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
No, indeed, my lord.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
That is a fault.
|
|
That handkerchief
|
|
Did an Egyptian to my mother give;
|
|
She was a charmer, and could almost read
|
|
The thoughts of people: she told her, while
|
|
she kept it,
|
|
'Twould make her amiable and subdue my father
|
|
Entirely to her love, but if she lost it
|
|
Or made gift of it, my father's eye
|
|
Should hold her loathed and his spirits should hunt
|
|
After new fancies: she, dying, gave it me;
|
|
And bid me, when my fate would have me wive,
|
|
To give it her. I did so: and take heed on't;
|
|
Make it a darling like your precious eye;
|
|
To lose't or give't away were such perdition
|
|
As nothing else could match.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Is't possible?
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
'Tis true: there's magic in the web of it:
|
|
A sibyl, that had number'd in the world
|
|
The sun to course two hundred compasses,
|
|
In her prophetic fury sew'd the work;
|
|
The worms were hallow'd that did breed the silk;
|
|
And it was dyed in mummy which the skilful
|
|
Conserved of maidens' hearts.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Indeed! is't true?
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Most veritable; therefore look to't well.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Then would to God that I had never seen't!
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Ha! wherefore?
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Why do you speak so startingly and rash?
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Is't lost? is't gone? speak, is it out
|
|
o' the way?
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Heaven bless us!
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Say you?
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
It is not lost; but what an if it were?
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
How!
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
I say, it is not lost.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Fetch't, let me see't.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Why, so I can, sir, but I will not now.
|
|
This is a trick to put me from my suit:
|
|
Pray you, let Cassio be received again.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Fetch me the handkerchief: my mind misgives.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Come, come;
|
|
You'll never meet a more sufficient man.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
The handkerchief!
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
I pray, talk me of Cassio.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
The handkerchief!
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
A man that all his time
|
|
Hath founded his good fortunes on your love,
|
|
Shared dangers with you,--
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
The handkerchief!
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
In sooth, you are to blame.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Away!
|
|
|
|
[[Exit]]
|
|
|
|
EMILIA
|
|
|
|
Is not this man jealous?
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
I ne'er saw this before.
|
|
Sure, there's some wonder in this handkerchief:
|
|
I am most unhappy in the loss of it.
|
|
|
|
EMILIA
|
|
|
|
'Tis not a year or two shows us a man:
|
|
They are all but stomachs, and we all but food;
|
|
To eat us hungerly, and when they are full,
|
|
They belch us. Look you, Cassio and my husband!
|
|
|
|
[[Enter CASSIO and IAGO]]
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
There is no other way; 'tis she must do't:
|
|
And, lo, the happiness! go, and importune her.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
How now, good Cassio! what's the news with you?
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Madam, my former suit: I do beseech you
|
|
That by your virtuous means I may again
|
|
Exist, and be a member of his love
|
|
Whom I with all the office of my heart
|
|
Entirely honour: I would not be delay'd.
|
|
If my offence be of such mortal kind
|
|
That nor my service past, nor present sorrows,
|
|
Nor purposed merit in futurity,
|
|
Can ransom me into his love again,
|
|
But to know so must be my benefit;
|
|
So shall I clothe me in a forced content,
|
|
And shut myself up in some other course,
|
|
To fortune's alms.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Alas, thrice-gentle Cassio!
|
|
My advocation is not now in tune;
|
|
My lord is not my lord; nor should I know him,
|
|
Were he in favour as in humour alter'd.
|
|
So help me every spirit sanctified,
|
|
As I have spoken for you all my best
|
|
And stood within the blank of his displeasure
|
|
For my free speech! you must awhile be patient:
|
|
What I can do I will; and more I will
|
|
Than for myself I dare: let that suffice you.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Is my lord angry?
|
|
|
|
EMILIA
|
|
|
|
He went hence but now,
|
|
And certainly in strange unquietness.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Can he be angry? I have seen the cannon,
|
|
When it hath blown his ranks into the air,
|
|
And, like the devil, from his very arm
|
|
Puff'd his own brother:--and can he be angry?
|
|
Something of moment then: I will go meet him:
|
|
There's matter in't indeed, if he be angry.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
I prithee, do so.
|
|
|
|
[[Exit IAGO]]
|
|
Something, sure, of state,
|
|
Either from Venice, or some unhatch'd practise
|
|
Made demonstrable here in Cyprus to him,
|
|
Hath puddled his clear spirit: and in such cases
|
|
Men's natures wrangle with inferior things,
|
|
Though great ones are their object. 'Tis even so;
|
|
For let our finger ache, and it indues
|
|
Our other healthful members even to that sense
|
|
Of pain: nay, we must think men are not gods,
|
|
Nor of them look for such observances
|
|
As fit the bridal. Beshrew me much, Emilia,
|
|
I was, unhandsome warrior as I am,
|
|
Arraigning his unkindness with my soul;
|
|
But now I find I had suborn'd the witness,
|
|
And he's indicted falsely.
|
|
|
|
EMILIA
|
|
|
|
Pray heaven it be state-matters, as you think,
|
|
And no conception nor no jealous toy
|
|
Concerning you.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Alas the day! I never gave him cause.
|
|
|
|
EMILIA
|
|
|
|
But jealous souls will not be answer'd so;
|
|
They are not ever jealous for the cause,
|
|
But jealous for they are jealous: 'tis a monster
|
|
Begot upon itself, born on itself.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Heaven keep that monster from Othello's mind!
|
|
|
|
EMILIA
|
|
|
|
Lady, amen.
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
I will go seek him. Cassio, walk hereabout:
|
|
If I do find him fit, I'll move your suit
|
|
And seek to effect it to my uttermost.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
I humbly thank your ladyship.
|
|
|
|
[[Exeunt DESDEMONA and EMILIA]]
|
|
|
|
[[Enter BIANCA]]
|
|
|
|
BIANCA
|
|
|
|
Save you, friend Cassio!
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
What make you from home?
|
|
How is it with you, my most fair Bianca?
|
|
I' faith, sweet love, I was coming to your house.
|
|
|
|
BIANCA
|
|
|
|
And I was going to your lodging, Cassio.
|
|
What, keep a week away? seven days and nights?
|
|
Eight score eight hours? and lovers' absent hours,
|
|
More tedious than the dial eight score times?
|
|
O weary reckoning!
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Pardon me, Bianca:
|
|
I have this while with leaden thoughts been press'd:
|
|
But I shall, in a more continuate time,
|
|
Strike off this score of absence. Sweet Bianca,
|
|
|
|
[[Giving her DESDEMONA's handkerchief]]
|
|
Take me this work out.
|
|
|
|
BIANCA
|
|
|
|
O Cassio, whence came this?
|
|
This is some token from a newer friend:
|
|
To the felt absence now I feel a cause:
|
|
Is't come to this? Well, well.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Go to, woman!
|
|
Throw your vile guesses in the devil's teeth,
|
|
From whence you have them. You are jealous now
|
|
That this is from some mistress, some remembrance:
|
|
No, in good troth, Bianca.
|
|
|
|
BIANCA
|
|
|
|
Why, whose is it?
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
I know not, sweet: I found it in my chamber.
|
|
I like the work well: ere it be demanded--
|
|
As like enough it will--I'ld have it copied:
|
|
Take it, and do't; and leave me for this time.
|
|
|
|
BIANCA
|
|
|
|
Leave you! wherefore?
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
I do attend here on the general;
|
|
And think it no addition, nor my wish,
|
|
To have him see me woman'd.
|
|
|
|
BIANCA
|
|
|
|
Why, I pray you?
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Not that I love you not.
|
|
|
|
BIANCA
|
|
|
|
But that you do not love me.
|
|
I pray you, bring me on the way a little,
|
|
And say if I shall see you soon at night.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
'Tis but a little way that I can bring you;
|
|
For I attend here: but I'll see you soon.
|
|
|
|
BIANCA
|
|
|
|
'Tis very good; I must be circumstanced.
|
|
|
|
[[Exeunt]]
|
|
|
|
ACT IV
|
|
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 unauthorized 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, 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 any thing?
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
He hath, my lord; but be you well assured,
|
|
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 fall'n 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 yoked
|
|
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 promised. 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 retires]]
|
|
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 beguiled by one:
|
|
He, when he hears of her, cannot refrain
|
|
From the excess of laughter. Here he comes:
|
|
|
|
[[Re-enter CASSIO]]
|
|
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. 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.
|
|
|
|
[[Speaking lower]]
|
|
Now, if this suit lay in Bianco's power,
|
|
How quickly should you speed!
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Alas, poor caitiff!
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Look, how he laughs already!
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
I never knew woman love man so.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Alas, poor rogue! I think, i' faith, she loves me.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Now he denies it faintly, and laughs it out.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Do you hear, Cassio?
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Now he importunes him
|
|
To tell it o'er: go to; well said, well said.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
She gives it out that you shall marry hey:
|
|
Do you intend it?
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Ha, ha, ha!
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Do you triumph, Roman? do you triumph?
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
I marry her! what? a customer! Prithee, bear some
|
|
charity to my wit: do not think it so unwholesome.
|
|
Ha, ha, ha!
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
So, so, so, so: they laugh that win.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
'Faith, the cry goes that you shall marry her.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Prithee, say true.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
I am a very villain else.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
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
|
|
|
|
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, by this hand, she falls me thus about my neck--
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
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
|
|
|
|
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
|
|
|
|
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
|
|
|
|
Prithee, come; will you?
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Go to; say no more.
|
|
|
|
[[Exit CASSIO]]
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
[Advancing] 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 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 letter]]
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
I kiss the instrument of their pleasures.
|
|
|
|
[[Opens the letter, 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 moved 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
|
|
|
|
[Striking her] Devil!
|
|
|
|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
I have not deserved this.
|
|
|
|
LODOVICO
|
|
|
|
My lord, this would not be believed 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
|
|
|
|
I will not stay to offend you.
|
|
|
|
[[Going]]
|
|
|
|
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, tonight,
|
|
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 changed.
|
|
|
|
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 deceived in him.
|
|
|
|
[[Exeunt]]
|
|
|
|
SCENE II. 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 villanous secrets
|
|
And yet she'll kneel and pray; I have seen her do't.
|
|
|
|
[[Enter DESDEMONA with EMILIA]]
|
|
|
|
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
|
|
|
|
[To EMILIA] Some of your function, mistress;
|
|
Leave procreants alone and shut the door;
|
|
Cough, or cry 'hem,' if any body come:
|
|
Your mystery, your mystery: nay, dispatch.
|
|
|
|
[[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: therefore 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 pleased 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 of 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 you not 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 saved.
|
|
|
|
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.
|
|
|
|
[[Raising his voice]]
|
|
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. Prithee, tonight
|
|
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 used so, very meet.
|
|
How have I been behaved, 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 bewhored 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 callat.
|
|
|
|
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 devised 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 villanous knave,
|
|
Some base notorious knave, some scurvy fellow.
|
|
O heaven, that such companions thou'ldst 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
|
|
|
|
O good 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 nought 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 think it is 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 to 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, I 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 judgment. 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 horrorable
|
|
fortune. If you will watch his going thence, which
|
|
I 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 suppertime, 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. 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 it 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 cheques, his frowns--
|
|
Prithee, 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 prithee, 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 loved proved 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. Prithee, dispatch.
|
|
|
|
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
|
|
|
|
[Singing] 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 by these:--
|
|
|
|
[[Singing]]
|
|
Sing willow, willow, willow;
|
|
Prithee, hie thee; he'll come anon:--
|
|
|
|
[[Singing]]
|
|
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
|
|
|
|
[Singing] I call'd my love false love; but what
|
|
said he then?
|
|
Sing willow, willow, willow:
|
|
If I court moe women, you'll couch with moe men!
|
|
So, get thee gone; good night Ate 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 played 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 uses send,
|
|
Not to pick bad from bad, but by bad mend!
|
|
|
|
[[Exeunt]]
|
|
|
|
ACT V
|
|
SCENE I. Cyprus. A street.
|
|
|
|
[[Enter IAGO and RODERIGO]]
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Here, stand behind this bulk; straight will he come:
|
|
Wear thy good rapier bare, and put it home:
|
|
Quick, quick; fear nothing; I'll be at thy elbow:
|
|
It makes us, or it mars us; think on that,
|
|
And fix most firm thy resolution.
|
|
|
|
RODERIGO
|
|
|
|
Be near at hand; I may miscarry in't.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Here, at thy hand: be bold, and take thy stand.
|
|
|
|
[[Retires]]
|
|
|
|
RODERIGO
|
|
|
|
I have no great devotion to the deed;
|
|
And yet he hath given me satisfying reasons:
|
|
'Tis but a man gone. Forth, my sword: he dies.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
I have rubb'd this young quat almost to the sense,
|
|
And he grows angry. Now, whether he kill Cassio,
|
|
Or Cassio him, or each do kill the other,
|
|
Every way makes my gain: live Roderigo,
|
|
He calls me to a restitution large
|
|
Of gold and jewels that I bobb'd from him,
|
|
As gifts to Desdemona;
|
|
It must not be: if Cassio do remain,
|
|
He hath a daily beauty in his life
|
|
That makes me ugly; and, besides, the Moor
|
|
May unfold me to him; there stand I in much peril:
|
|
No, he must die. But so: I hear him coming.
|
|
|
|
[[Enter CASSIO]]
|
|
|
|
RODERIGO
|
|
|
|
I know his gait, 'tis he.--Villain, thou diest!
|
|
|
|
[[Makes a pass at CASSIO]]
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
That thrust had been mine enemy indeed,
|
|
But that my coat is better than thou know'st
|
|
I will make proof of thine.
|
|
|
|
[[Draws, and wounds RODERIGO]]
|
|
|
|
RODERIGO
|
|
|
|
O, I am slain!
|
|
|
|
[[IAGO from behind wounds CASSIO in the leg, and exit]]
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
I am maim'd for ever. Help, ho! murder! murder!
|
|
|
|
[[Falls]]
|
|
|
|
[[Enter OTHELLO]]
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
The voice of Cassio: Iago keeps his word.
|
|
|
|
RODERIGO
|
|
|
|
O, villain that I am!
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
It is even so.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
O, help, ho! light! a surgeon!
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
'Tis he:--O brave Iago, honest and just,
|
|
That hast such noble sense of thy friend's wrong!
|
|
Thou teachest me. Minion, your dear lies dead,
|
|
And your unblest fate hies: strumpet, I come.
|
|
Forth of my heart those charms, thine eyes, are blotted;
|
|
Thy bed, lust-stain'd, shall with lust's blood be spotted.
|
|
|
|
[[Exit]]
|
|
|
|
[[Enter LODOVICO and GRATIANO]]
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
What, ho! no watch? no passage? murder! murder!
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
|
|
'Tis some mischance; the cry is very direful.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
O, help!
|
|
|
|
LODOVICO
|
|
|
|
Hark!
|
|
|
|
RODERIGO
|
|
|
|
O wretched villain!
|
|
|
|
LODOVICO
|
|
|
|
Two or three groan: it is a heavy night:
|
|
These may be counterfeits: let's think't unsafe
|
|
To come in to the cry without more help.
|
|
|
|
RODERIGO
|
|
|
|
Nobody come? then shall I bleed to death.
|
|
|
|
LODOVICO
|
|
|
|
Hark!
|
|
|
|
[[Re-enter IAGO, with a light]]
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
|
|
Here's one comes in his shirt, with light and weapons.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Who's there? whose noise is this that ones on murder?
|
|
|
|
LODOVICO
|
|
|
|
We do not know.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Did not you hear a cry?
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Here, here! for heaven's sake, help me!
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
What's the matter?
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
|
|
This is Othello's ancient, as I take it.
|
|
|
|
LODOVICO
|
|
|
|
The same indeed; a very valiant fellow.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
What are you here that cry so grievously?
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Iago? O, I am spoil'd, undone by villains!
|
|
Give me some help.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
O me, lieutenant! what villains have done this?
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
I think that one of them is hereabout,
|
|
And cannot make away.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
O treacherous villains!
|
|
What are you there? come in, and give some help.
|
|
|
|
[[To LODOVICO and GRATIANO]]
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RODERIGO
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O, help me here!
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CASSIO
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That's one of them.
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IAGO
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O murderous slave! O villain!
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[[Stabs RODERIGO]]
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RODERIGO
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O damn'd Iago! O inhuman dog!
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IAGO
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Kill men i' the dark!--Where be these bloody thieves?--
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How silent is this town!--Ho! murder! murder!--
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What may you be? are you of good or evil?
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LODOVICO
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As you shall prove us, praise us.
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IAGO
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Signior Lodovico?
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LODOVICO
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He, sir.
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IAGO
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I cry you mercy. Here's Cassio hurt by villains.
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GRATIANO
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Cassio!
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IAGO
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How is't, brother!
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CASSIO
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My leg is cut in two.
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IAGO
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Marry, heaven forbid!
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Light, gentlemen; I'll bind it with my shirt.
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[[Enter BIANCA]]
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BIANCA
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What is the matter, ho? who is't that cried?
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IAGO
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Who is't that cried!
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BIANCA
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O my dear Cassio! my sweet Cassio! O Cassio,
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Cassio, Cassio!
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IAGO
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O notable strumpet! Cassio, may you suspect
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Who they should be that have thus many led you?
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CASSIO
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No.
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GRATIANO
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I am to find you thus: I have been to seek you.
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IAGO
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Lend me a garter. So. O, for a chair,
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To bear him easily hence!
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BIANCA
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Alas, he faints! O Cassio, Cassio, Cassio!
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IAGO
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Gentlemen all, I do suspect this trash
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To be a party in this injury.
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Patience awhile, good Cassio. Come, come;
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Lend me a light. Know we this face or no?
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Alas my friend and my dear countryman
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Roderigo! no:--yes, sure: O heaven! Roderigo.
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GRATIANO
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What, of Venice?
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IAGO
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Even he, sir; did you know him?
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GRATIANO
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Know him! ay.
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IAGO
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Signior Gratiano? I cry you gentle pardon;
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These bloody accidents must excuse my manners,
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That so neglected you.
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GRATIANO
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I am glad to see you.
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IAGO
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How do you, Cassio? O, a chair, a chair!
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GRATIANO
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Roderigo!
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IAGO
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He, he 'tis he.
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[[A chair brought in]]
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O, that's well said; the chair!
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GRATIANO
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Some good man bear him carefully from hence;
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I'll fetch the general's surgeon.
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[[To BIANCA]]
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For you, mistress,
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Save you your labour. He that lies slain
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here, Cassio,
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Was my dear friend: what malice was between you?
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CASSIO
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None in the world; nor do I know the man.
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IAGO
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[To BIANCA] What, look you pale? O, bear him out
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o' the air.
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[[CASSIO and RODERIGO are borne off]]
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Stay you, good gentlemen. Look you pale, mistress?
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Do you perceive the gastness of her eye?
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Nay, if you stare, we shall hear more anon.
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Behold her well; I pray you, look upon her:
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Do you see, gentlemen? nay, guiltiness will speak,
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Though tongues were out of use.
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[[Enter EMILIA]]
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EMILIA
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'Las, what's the matter? what's the matter, husband?
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IAGO
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Cassio hath here been set on in the dark
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By Roderigo and fellows that are scaped:
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He's almost slain, and Roderigo dead.
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EMILIA
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Alas, good gentleman! alas, good Cassio!
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IAGO
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This is the fruit of whoring. Prithee, Emilia,
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Go know of Cassio where he supp'd to-night.
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[[To BIANCA]]
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What, do you shake at that?
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BIANCA
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He supp'd at my house; but I therefore shake not.
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IAGO
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O, did he so? I charge you, go with me.
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EMILIA
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Fie, fie upon thee, strumpet!
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BIANCA
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I am no strumpet; but of life as honest
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As you that thus abuse me.
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EMILIA
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As I! foh! fie upon thee!
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IAGO
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Kind gentlemen, let's go see poor Cassio dress'd.
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Come, mistress, you must tell's another tale.
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Emilia run you to the citadel,
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And tell my lord and lady what hath happ'd.
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Will you go on? I pray.
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[[Aside]]
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This is the night
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That either makes me or fordoes me quite.
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[[Exeunt]]
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SCENE II. A bedchamber in the castle
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[[DESDEMONA in bed asleep; a light burning.]]
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[[Enter OTHELLO]]
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OTHELLO
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It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul,--
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Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars!--
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It is the cause. Yet I'll not shed her blood;
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Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow,
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And smooth as monumental alabaster.
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Yet she must die, else she'll betray more men.
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Put out the light, and then put out the light:
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If I quench thee, thou flaming minister,
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I can again thy former light restore,
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Should I repent me: but once put out thy light,
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Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature,
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|
I know not where is that Promethean heat
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That can thy light relume. When I have pluck'd the rose,
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I cannot give it vital growth again.
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It must needs wither: I'll smell it on the tree.
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[[Kissing her]]
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Ah balmy breath, that dost almost persuade
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Justice to break her sword! One more, one more.
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Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee,
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And love thee after. One more, and this the last:
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So sweet was ne'er so fatal. I must weep,
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|
But they are cruel tears: this sorrow's heavenly;
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It strikes where it doth love. She wakes.
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DESDEMONA
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Who's there? Othello?
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OTHELLO
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Ay. Desdemona.
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DESDEMONA
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Will you come to bed, my lord?
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OTHELLO
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Have you pray'd to-night, Desdemona?
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DESDEMONA
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Ay, my lord.
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OTHELLO
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If you bethink yourself of any crime
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Unreconciled as yet to heaven and grace,
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Solicit for it straight.
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DESDEMONA
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Alas, my lord, what do you mean by that?
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OTHELLO
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Well, do it, and be brief; I will walk by:
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I would not kill thy unprepared spirit;
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No; heaven forfend! I would not kill thy soul.
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DESDEMONA
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Talk you of killing?
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OTHELLO
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Ay, I do.
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DESDEMONA
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Then heaven
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Have mercy on me!
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OTHELLO
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Amen, with all my heart!
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DESDEMONA
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If you say so, I hope you will not kill me.
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OTHELLO
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Hum!
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DESDEMONA
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And yet I fear you; for you are fatal then
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When your eyes roll so: why I should fear I know not,
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Since guiltiness I know not; but yet I feel I fear.
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OTHELLO
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Think on thy sins.
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DESDEMONA
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They are loves I bear to you.
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OTHELLO
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Ay, and for that thou diest.
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DESDEMONA
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That death's unnatural that kills for loving.
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Alas, why gnaw you so your nether lip?
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Some bloody passion shakes your very frame:
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|
These are portents; but yet I hope, I hope,
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They do not point on me.
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OTHELLO
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Peace, and be still!
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DESDEMONA
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I will so. What's the matter?
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OTHELLO
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That handkerchief which I so loved and gave thee
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Thou gavest to Cassio.
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DESDEMONA
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No, by my life and soul!
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Send for the man, and ask him.
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OTHELLO
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Sweet soul, take heed,
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Take heed of perjury; thou art on thy deathbed.
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DESDEMONA
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Ay, but not yet to die.
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OTHELLO
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Yes, presently:
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Therefore confess thee freely of thy sin;
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For to deny each article with oath
|
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Cannot remove nor choke the strong conception
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That I do groan withal. Thou art to die.
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DESDEMONA
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Then Lord have mercy on me!
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OTHELLO
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I say, amen.
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DESDEMONA
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And have you mercy too! I never did
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Offend you in my life; never loved Cassio
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But with such general warranty of heaven
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As I might love: I never gave him token.
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OTHELLO
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By heaven, I saw my handkerchief in's hand.
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O perjured woman! thou dost stone my heart,
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And makest me call what I intend to do
|
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A murder, which I thought a sacrifice:
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I saw the handkerchief.
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DESDEMONA
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He found it then;
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I never gave it him: send for him hither;
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Let him confess a truth.
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OTHELLO
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He hath confess'd.
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DESDEMONA
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What, my lord?
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OTHELLO
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That he hath used thee.
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DESDEMONA
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How? unlawfully?
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OTHELLO
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Ay.
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DESDEMONA
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He will not say so.
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OTHELLO
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No, his mouth is stopp'd;
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Honest Iago hath ta'en order for't.
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DESDEMONA
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O! my fear interprets: what, is he dead?
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OTHELLO
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Had all his hairs been lives, my great revenge
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|
Had stomach for them all.
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DESDEMONA
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Alas! he is betray'd and I undone.
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OTHELLO
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Out, strumpet! weep'st thou for him to my face?
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DESDEMONA
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O, banish me, my lord, but kill me not!
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OTHELLO
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Down, strumpet!
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DESDEMONA
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Kill me to-morrow: let me live to-night!
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OTHELLO
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Nay, if you strive--
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DESDEMONA
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But half an hour!
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OTHELLO
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Being done, there is no pause.
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DESDEMONA
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|
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But while I say one prayer!
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OTHELLO
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It is too late.
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[[He stifles her]]
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EMILIA
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[Within] My lord , my lord! what, ho! my lord, my lord!
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OTHELLO
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What noise is this? Not dead? not yet quite dead?
|
|
I that am cruel am yet merciful;
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I would not have thee linger in thy pain: So, so.
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EMILIA
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[Within] What, ho! my lord, my lord!
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OTHELLO
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Who's there?
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EMILIA
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[Within] O, good my lord, I would speak a word with you!
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OTHELLO
|
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Yes: 'tis Emilia. By and by. She's dead.
|
|
'Tis like she comes to speak of Cassio's death.--
|
|
The noise was here. Ha! no more moving?
|
|
Still as the grave. Shall she come in? were't good?--
|
|
I think she stirs again:--no. What's best to do?
|
|
If she come in, she'll sure speak to my wife:
|
|
My wife! my wife! what wife? I have no wife.
|
|
O insupportable! O heavy hour!
|
|
Methinks it should be now a huge eclipse
|
|
Of sun and moon, and that the affrighted globe
|
|
Should yawn at alteration.
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EMILIA
|
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|
|
[Within] I do beseech you
|
|
That I may speak with you, O, good my lord!
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OTHELLO
|
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|
|
I had forgot thee: O, come in, Emilia;
|
|
Soft; by and by. Let me the curtains draw.
|
|
Where art thou?
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|
[[Unlocks the door]]
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|
|
[[Enter EMILIA]]
|
|
What's the matter with thee now?
|
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EMILIA
|
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|
|
O, my good lord, yonder's foul murders done!
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OTHELLO
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|
|
What, now?
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EMILIA
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|
|
But now, my lord.
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OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
It is the very error of the moon;
|
|
She comes more nearer earth than she was wont,
|
|
And makes men mad.
|
|
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|
EMILIA
|
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|
|
Cassio, my lord, hath kill'd a young Venetian
|
|
Call'd Roderigo.
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OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Roderigo kill'd!
|
|
And Cassio kill'd!
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EMILIA
|
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|
|
No, Cassio is not kill'd.
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OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Not Cassio kill'd! then murder's out of tune,
|
|
And sweet revenge grows harsh.
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DESDEMONA
|
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|
|
O, falsely, falsely murder'd!
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|
EMILIA
|
|
|
|
Alas, what cry is that?
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|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
That! what?
|
|
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|
EMILIA
|
|
|
|
Out, and alas! that was my lady's voice.
|
|
Help! help, ho! help! O lady, speak again!
|
|
Sweet Desdemona! O sweet mistress, speak!
|
|
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|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
A guiltless death I die.
|
|
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EMILIA
|
|
|
|
O, who hath done this deed?
|
|
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|
DESDEMONA
|
|
|
|
Nobody; I myself. Farewell
|
|
Commend me to my kind lord: O, farewell!
|
|
|
|
[[Dies]]
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Why, how should she be murder'd?
|
|
|
|
EMILIA
|
|
|
|
Alas, who knows?
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
You heard her say herself, it was not I.
|
|
|
|
EMILIA
|
|
|
|
She said so: I must needs report the truth.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
She's, like a liar, gone to burning hell:
|
|
'Twas I that kill'd her.
|
|
|
|
EMILIA
|
|
|
|
O, the more angel she,
|
|
And you the blacker devil!
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
She turn'd to folly, and she was a whore.
|
|
|
|
EMILIA
|
|
|
|
Thou dost belie her, and thou art a devil.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
She was false as water.
|
|
|
|
EMILIA
|
|
|
|
Thou art rash as fire, to say
|
|
That she was false: O, she was heavenly true!
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Cassio did top her; ask thy husband else.
|
|
O, I were damn'd beneath all depth in hell,
|
|
But that I did proceed upon just grounds
|
|
To this extremity. Thy husband knew it all.
|
|
|
|
EMILIA
|
|
|
|
My husband!
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Thy husband.
|
|
|
|
EMILIA
|
|
|
|
That she was false to wedlock?
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Ay, with Cassio. Nay, had she been true,
|
|
If heaven would make me such another world
|
|
Of one entire and Perfect chrysolite,
|
|
I'ld not have sold her for it.
|
|
|
|
EMILIA
|
|
|
|
My husband!
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Ay, 'twas he that told me first:
|
|
An honest man he is, and hates the slime
|
|
That sticks on filthy deeds.
|
|
|
|
EMILIA
|
|
|
|
My husband!
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
What needs this iteration, woman? I say thy husband.
|
|
|
|
EMILIA
|
|
|
|
O mistress, villany hath made mocks with love,
|
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My husband say that she was false!
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OTHELLO
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He, woman;
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I say thy husband: dost understand the word?
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My friend, thy husband, honest, honest Iago.
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EMILIA
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If he say so, may his pernicious soul
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Rot half a grain a day! he lies to the heart:
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She was too fond of her most filthy bargain.
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OTHELLO
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Ha!
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EMILIA
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Do thy worst:
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This deed of thine is no more worthy heaven
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Than thou wast worthy her.
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OTHELLO
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Peace, you were best.
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EMILIA
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Thou hast not half that power to do me harm
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As I have to be hurt. O gull! O dolt!
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As ignorant as dirt! thou hast done a deed--
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I care not for thy sword; I'll make thee known,
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Though I lost twenty lives.--Help! help, ho! help!
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The Moor hath kill'd my mistress! Murder! murder!
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[[Enter MONTANO, GRATIANO, IAGO, and others]]
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MONTANO
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What is the matter? How now, general!
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EMILIA
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O, are you come, Iago? you have done well,
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That men must lay their murders on your neck.
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GRATIANO
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What is the matter?
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EMILIA
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Disprove this villain, if thou be'st a man:
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He says thou told'st him that his wife was false:
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I know thou didst not, thou'rt not such a villain:
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Speak, for my heart is full.
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IAGO
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I told him what I thought, and told no more
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Than what he found himself was apt and true.
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EMILIA
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But did you ever tell him she was false?
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IAGO
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I did.
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EMILIA
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You told a lie, an odious, damned lie;
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Upon my soul, a lie, a wicked lie.
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She false with Cassio!--did you say with Cassio?
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IAGO
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With Cassio, mistress. Go to, charm your tongue.
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EMILIA
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I will not charm my tongue; I am bound to speak:
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My mistress here lies murder'd in her bed,--
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All
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O heavens forfend!
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EMILIA
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And your reports have set the murder on.
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OTHELLO
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Nay, stare not, masters: it is true, indeed.
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GRATIANO
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'Tis a strange truth.
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MONTANO
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O monstrous act!
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EMILIA
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Villany, villany, villany!
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I think upon't, I think: I smell't: O villany!--
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I thought so then:--I'll kill myself for grief:--
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O villany, villany!
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IAGO
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What, are you mad? I charge you, get you home.
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EMILIA
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Good gentlemen, let me have leave to speak:
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'Tis proper I obey him, but not now.
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Perchance, Iago, I will ne'er go home.
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OTHELLO
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O! O! O!
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[[He falls on the bed]]
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EMILIA
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Nay, lay thee down and roar;
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For thou hast kill'd the sweetest innocent
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That e'er did lift up eye.
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OTHELLO
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[Rising] O, she was foul!
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I scarce did know you, uncle: there lies your niece,
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Whose breath, indeed, these hands have newly stopp'd:
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I know this act shows horrible and grim.
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GRATIANO
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Poor Desdemona! I am glad thy father's dead:
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Thy match was mortal to him, and pure grief
|
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Shore his old thread in twain: did he live now,
|
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This sight would make him do a desperate turn,
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Yea, curse his better angel from his side,
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|
And fall to reprobation.
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OTHELLO
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'Tis pitiful; but yet Iago knows
|
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That she with Cassio hath the act of shame
|
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A thousand times committed; Cassio confess'd it:
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|
And she did gratify his amorous works
|
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With that recognizance and pledge of love
|
|
Which I first gave her; I saw it in his hand:
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It was a handkerchief, an antique token
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My father gave my mother.
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EMILIA
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O heaven! O heavenly powers!
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IAGO
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Come, hold your peace.
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EMILIA
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'Twill out, 'twill out: I peace!
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No, I will speak as liberal as the north:
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Let heaven and men and devils, let them all,
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All, all, cry shame against me, yet I'll speak.
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IAGO
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Be wise, and get you home.
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EMILIA
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I will not.
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[[IAGO offers to stab EMILIA]]
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GRATIANO
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Fie!
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Your sword upon a woman?
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EMILIA
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O thou dull Moor! that handkerchief thou speak'st of
|
|
I found by fortune and did give my husband;
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|
For often, with a solemn earnestness,
|
|
More than indeed belong'd to such a trifle,
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|
He begg'd of me to steal it.
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IAGO
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Villanous whore!
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EMILIA
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She give it Cassio! no, alas! I found it,
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|
And I did give't my husband.
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IAGO
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Filth, thou liest!
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EMILIA
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By heaven, I do not, I do not, gentlemen.
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|
O murderous coxcomb! what should such a fool
|
|
Do with so good a woman?
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OTHELLO
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Are there no stones in heaven
|
|
But what serve for the thunder?--Precious villain!
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He runs at IAGO IAGO, from behind, stabs EMILIA, and exit
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GRATIANO
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The woman falls; sure, he hath kill'd his wife.
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EMILIA
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Ay, ay: O, lay me by my mistress' side.
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GRATIANO
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He's gone, but his wife's kill'd.
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MONTANO
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|
'Tis a notorious villain. Take you this weapon,
|
|
Which I have here recover'd from the Moor:
|
|
Come, guard the door without; let him not pass,
|
|
But kill him rather. I'll after that same villain,
|
|
For 'tis a damned slave.
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[[Exeunt MONTANO and GRATIANO]]
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OTHELLO
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I am not valiant neither,
|
|
But ever puny whipster gets my sword:
|
|
But why should honour outlive honesty?
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|
Let it go all.
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EMILIA
|
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|
|
What did thy song bode, lady?
|
|
Hark, canst thou hear me? I will play the swan.
|
|
And die in music.
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|
[[Singing]]
|
|
Willow, willow, willow,--
|
|
Moor, she was chaste; she loved thee, cruel Moor;
|
|
So come my soul to bliss, as I speak true;
|
|
So speaking as I think, I die, I die.
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|
[[Dies]]
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OTHELLO
|
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|
|
I have another weapon in this chamber;
|
|
It is a sword of Spain, the ice-brook's temper:--
|
|
O, here it is. Uncle, I must come forth.
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GRATIANO
|
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|
|
[Within] If thou attempt it, it will cost thee dear:
|
|
Thou hast no weapon, and perforce must suffer.
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OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Look in upon me then and speak with me,
|
|
Or, naked as I am, I will assault thee.
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|
|
[[Re-enter GRATIANO]]
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GRATIANO
|
|
|
|
What is the matter?
|
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OTHELLO
|
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|
|
Behold, I have a weapon;
|
|
A better never did itself sustain
|
|
Upon a soldier's thigh: I have seen the day,
|
|
That, with this little arm and this good sword,
|
|
I have made my way through more impediments
|
|
Than twenty times your stop: but, O vain boast!
|
|
Who can control his fate? 'tis not so now.
|
|
Be not afraid, though you do see me weapon'd;
|
|
Here is my journey's end, here is my butt,
|
|
And very sea-mark of my utmost sail.
|
|
Do you go back dismay'd? 'tis a lost fear;
|
|
Man but a rush against Othello's breast,
|
|
And he retires. Where should Othello go?
|
|
Now, how dost thou look now? O ill-starr'd wench!
|
|
Pale as thy smock! when we shall meet at compt,
|
|
This look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven,
|
|
And fiends will snatch at it. Cold, cold, my girl!
|
|
Even like thy chastity. O cursed slave!
|
|
Whip me, ye devils,
|
|
From the possession of this heavenly sight!
|
|
Blow me about in winds! roast me in sulphur!
|
|
Wash me in steep-down gulfs of liquid fire!
|
|
O Desdemona! Desdemona! dead!
|
|
Oh! Oh! Oh!
|
|
|
|
[[Enter LODOVICO. MONTANO, CASSIO carried in a chair, and Officers with IAGO, prisoner]]
|
|
|
|
LODOVICO
|
|
|
|
Where is this rash and most unfortunate man?
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OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
That's he that was Othello: here I am.
|
|
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LODOVICO
|
|
|
|
Where is that viper? bring the villain forth.
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|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
I look down towards his feet; but that's a fable.
|
|
If that thou best a devil, I cannot kill thee.
|
|
|
|
[[Wounds IAGO]]
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LODOVICO
|
|
|
|
Wrench his sword from him.
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
I bleed, sir; but not kill'd.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
I am not sorry neither: I'ld have thee live;
|
|
For, in my sense, 'tis happiness to die.
|
|
|
|
LODOVICO
|
|
|
|
O thou Othello, thou wert once so good,
|
|
Fall'n in the practise of a damned slave,
|
|
What shall be said to thee?
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Why, any thing:
|
|
An honourable murderer, if you will;
|
|
For nought I did in hate, but all in honour.
|
|
|
|
LODOVICO
|
|
|
|
This wretch hath part confess'd his villany:
|
|
Did you and he consent in Cassio's death?
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Ay.
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Dear general, I never gave you cause.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
I do believe it, and I ask your pardon.
|
|
Will you, I pray, demand that demi-devil
|
|
Why he hath thus ensnared my soul and body?
|
|
|
|
IAGO
|
|
|
|
Demand me nothing: what you know, you know:
|
|
From this time forth I never will speak word.
|
|
|
|
LODOVICO
|
|
|
|
What, not to pray?
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
|
|
Torments will ope your lips.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Well, thou dost best.
|
|
|
|
LODOVICO
|
|
|
|
Sir, you shall understand what hath befall'n,
|
|
Which, as I think, you know not. Here is a letter
|
|
Found in the pocket of the slain Roderigo;
|
|
And here another: the one of them imports
|
|
The death of Cassio to be undertook
|
|
By Roderigo.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
O villain!
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
Most heathenish and most gross!
|
|
|
|
LODOVICO
|
|
|
|
Now here's another discontented paper,
|
|
Found in his pocket too; and this, it seems,
|
|
Roderigo meant to have sent this damned villain;
|
|
But that belike Iago in the interim
|
|
Came in and satisfied him.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
O the pernicious caitiff!
|
|
How came you, Cassio, by that handkerchief
|
|
That was my wife's?
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
I found it in my chamber:
|
|
And he himself confess'd but even now
|
|
That there he dropp'd it for a special purpose
|
|
Which wrought to his desire.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
O fool! fool! fool!
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
There is besides in Roderigo's letter,
|
|
How he upbraids Iago, that he made him
|
|
Brave me upon the watch; whereon it came
|
|
That I was cast: and even but now he spake,
|
|
After long seeming dead, Iago hurt him,
|
|
Iago set him on.
|
|
|
|
LODOVICO
|
|
|
|
You must forsake this room, and go with us:
|
|
Your power and your command is taken off,
|
|
And Cassio rules in Cyprus. For this slave,
|
|
If there be any cunning cruelty
|
|
That can torment him much and hold him long,
|
|
It shall be his. You shall close prisoner rest,
|
|
Till that the nature of your fault be known
|
|
To the Venetian state. Come, bring him away.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
Soft you; a word or two before you go.
|
|
I have done the state some service, and they know't.
|
|
No more of that. I pray you, in your letters,
|
|
When you shall these unlucky deeds relate,
|
|
Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate,
|
|
Nor set down aught in malice: then must you speak
|
|
Of one that loved not wisely but too well;
|
|
Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought
|
|
Perplex'd in the extreme; of one whose hand,
|
|
Like the base Indian, threw a pearl away
|
|
Richer than all his tribe; of one whose subdued eyes,
|
|
Albeit unused to the melting mood,
|
|
Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees
|
|
Their medicinal gum. Set you down this;
|
|
And say besides, that in Aleppo once,
|
|
Where a malignant and a turban'd Turk
|
|
Beat a Venetian and traduced the state,
|
|
I took by the throat the circumcised dog,
|
|
And smote him, thus.
|
|
|
|
[[Stabs himself]]
|
|
|
|
LODOVICO
|
|
|
|
O bloody period!
|
|
|
|
GRATIANO
|
|
|
|
All that's spoke is marr'd.
|
|
|
|
OTHELLO
|
|
|
|
I kiss'd thee ere I kill'd thee: no way but this;
|
|
Killing myself, to die upon a kiss.
|
|
|
|
[[Falls on the bed, and dies]]
|
|
|
|
CASSIO
|
|
|
|
This did I fear, but thought he had no weapon;
|
|
For he was great of heart.
|
|
|
|
LODOVICO
|
|
|
|
[To IAGO] O Spartan dog,
|
|
More fell than anguish, hunger, or the sea!
|
|
Look on the tragic loading of this bed;
|
|
This is thy work: the object poisons sight;
|
|
Let it be hid. Gratiano, keep the house,
|
|
And seize upon the fortunes of the Moor,
|
|
For they succeed on you. To you, lord governor,
|
|
Remains the censure of this hellish villain;
|
|
The time, the place, the torture: O, enforce it!
|
|
Myself will straight aboard: and to the state
|
|
This heavy act with heavy heart relate.
|
|
|
|
[[Exeunt]]
|