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 circumstanc'd.
[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 unauthoriz'd kiss.
IAGO.
Or to be naked with her friend in bed
An hour or more, not meaning any harm?
OTHELLO.
Naked in bed, Iago, and not mean harm!
It is hypocrisy against the devil:
They that mean virtuously and yet do so,
The devil their virtue tempts, and they tempt heaven.
IAGO.
So they do nothing, 'tis a venial slip:
But if I give my wife a handkerchief,--
OTHELLO.
What then?
IAGO.
Why, then, 'tis hers, my lord, and being hers,
She may, I think, bestow't on any man.
OTHELLO.
She is protectress of her honour too:
May she give that?
IAGO.
Her honour is an essence that's not seen;
They have it very oft that have it not:
But, for the handkerchief,--
OTHELLO.
By heaven, I would most gladly have forgot it:--
Thou said'st,--O, it comes o'er my memory,
As doth the raven o'er the infected house,
Boding to all,--he had my handkerchief.
IAGO.
Ay, what of that?
OTHELLO.
That's not so good now.
IAGO.
What,
If I had said I had seen him do you wrong?
Or heard him say,--as knaves be such abroad,
Who having, by their own importunate suit,
Or voluntary dotage of some mistress,
Convinced or supplied them, cannot choose
But they must blab,--
OTHELLO.
Hath he said anything?
IAGO.
He hath, my lord; but be you well assur'd,
No more than he'll unswear.
OTHELLO.
What hath he said?
IAGO.
Faith, that he did,--I know not what he did.
OTHELLO.
What? what?
IAGO.
Lie,--
OTHELLO.
With her?
IAGO.
With her, on her, what you will.
OTHELLO.
Lie with her! lie on her!--We say lie on her when they belie
her.--Lie with her! that's fulsome.--Handkerchief--confessions--
handkerchief!--To confess, and be hanged for his labour,--first,
to be hanged, and then to confess.--I tremble at it. Nature
would not invest herself in such shadowing passion without some
instruction. It is not words that shake me thus:--pish!--noses,
ears, and lips.--Is't possible?--Confess,--handkerchief!--O
devil!--
[Falls in a trance.]
IAGO.
Work on,
My medicine, work! Thus credulous fools are caught;
And many worthy and chaste dames even thus,
All guiltless, meet reproach.--What, ho! my lord!
My lord, I say! Othello!
[Enter Cassio.]
How now, Cassio!
CASSIO.
What's the matter?
IAGO.
My lord is fallen into an epilepsy:
This is his second fit; he had one yesterday.
CASSIO.
Rub him about the temples.
IAGO.
No, forbear;
The lethargy must have his quiet course:
If not, he foams at mouth, and by and by
Breaks out to savage madness. Look, he stirs:
Do you withdraw yourself a little while,
He will recover straight: when he is gone,
I would on great occasion speak with you.
[Exit Cassio.]
How is it, general? have you not hurt your head?
OTHELLO.
Dost thou mock me?
IAGO.
I mock you! no, by heaven.
Would you would bear your fortune like a man!
OTHELLO.
A horned man's a monster and a beast.
IAGO.
There's many a beast, then, in a populous city,
And many a civil monster.
OTHELLO.
Did he confess it?
IAGO.
Good sir, be a man;
Think every bearded fellow that's but yok'd
May draw with you: there's millions now alive
That nightly lie in those unproper beds
Which they dare swear peculiar: your case is better.
O, 'tis the spite of hell, the fiend's arch-mock,
To lip a wanton in a secure couch,
And to suppose her chaste! No, let me know;
And knowing what I am, I know what she shall be.
OTHELLO.
O, thou art wise; 'tis certain.
IAGO.
Stand you awhile apart;
Confine yourself but in a patient list.
Whilst you were here o'erwhelmed with your grief,--
A passion most unsuiting such a man,--
Cassio came hither: I shifted him away,
And laid good 'scuse upon your ecstasy;
Bade him anon return, and here speak with me;
The which he promis'd. Do but encave yourself,
And mark the fleers, the gibes, and notable scorns,
That dwell in every region of his face;
For I will make him tell the tale anew,--
Where, how, how oft, how long ago, and when
He hath, and is again to cope your wife:
I say, but mark his gesture. Marry, patience;
Or I shall say you are all in all in spleen,
And nothing of a man.
OTHELLO.
Dost thou hear, Iago?
I will be found most cunning in my patience;
But,--dost thou hear?--most bloody.
IAGO.
That's not amiss;
But yet keep time in all. Will you withdraw?
[Othello withdraws.]
Now will I question Cassio of Bianca,
A housewife that, by selling her desires,
Buys herself bread and clothes: it is a creature
That dotes on Cassio,--as 'tis the strumpet's plague
To beguile many and be beguil'd by one:--
He, when he hears of her, cannot refrain
From the excess of laughter:--here he comes:--
As he shall smile Othello shall go mad;
And his unbookish jealousy must construe
Poor Cassio's smiles, gestures, and light behavior
Quite in the wrong.
[Re-enter Cassio.]
How do you now, lieutenant?
CASSIO.
The worser that you give me the addition
Whose want even kills me.
IAGO.
Ply Desdemona well, and you are sure on't.
[Speaking lower.] Now, if this suit lay in Bianca's power,
How quickly should you speed!
CASSIO.
Alas, poor caitiff!
OTHELLO.
[Aside.] Look, how he laughs already!
IAGO.
I never knew a woman love man so.
CASSIO.
Alas, poor rogue! I think, i'faith, she loves me.
OTHELLO.
[Aside.] Now he denies it faintly and laughs it out.
IAGO.
Do you hear, Cassio?
OTHELLO.
[Aside.] Now he importunes him
To tell it o'er: go to; well said, well said.
IAGO.
She gives it out that you shall marry her:
Do you intend it?
CASSIO.
Ha, ha, ha!
OTHELLO.
[Aside.] Do you triumph, Roman? do you triumph?
CASSIO.
I marry her!--what? A customer! I pr'ythee, bear some charity
to my wit; do not think it so unwholesome:--ha, ha, ha!
OTHELLO.
[Aside.] So, so, so, so: they laugh that win.
IAGO.
Faith, the cry goes that you shall marry her.
CASSIO.
Pr'ythee, say true.
IAGO.
I am a very villain else.
OTHELLO.
[Aside.] Have you scored me? Well.
CASSIO.
This is the monkey's own giving out: she is persuaded I will
marry her, out of her own love and flattery, not out of my
promise.
OTHELLO.
[Aside.] Iago beckons me; now he begins the story.
CASSIO.
She was here even now; she haunts me in every place. I was the
other day talking on the sea bank with certain Venetians, and
thither comes the bauble, and falls thus about my neck,--
OTHELLO.
[Aside.] Crying, "O dear Cassio!" as it were: his gesture imports
it.
CASSIO.
So hangs, and lolls, and weeps upon me; so hales and pulls me:
ha, ha, ha!
OTHELLO.
[Aside.] Now he tells how she plucked him to my chamber. O, I see
that nose of yours, but not that dog I shall throw it to.
CASSIO.
Well, I must leave her company.
IAGO.
Before me! look where she comes.
CASSIO.
'Tis such another fitchew! marry, a perfumed one.
[Enter Bianca.]
What do you mean by this haunting of me?
BIANCA.
Let the devil and his dam haunt you! What did you mean
by that same handkerchief you gave me even now? I was a fine
fool to take it. I must take out the work?--A likely piece of
work that you should find it in your chamber and not know who
left it there! This is some minx's token, and I must take out the
work? There,--give it your hobby-horse: wheresoever you had it,
I'll take out no work on't.
CASSIO.
How now, my sweet Bianca! how now! how now!
OTHELLO.
[Aside.] By heaven, that should be my handkerchief!
BIANCA.
An you'll come to supper to-night, you may; an you will
not, come when you are next prepared for.
[Exit.]
IAGO.
After her, after her.
CASSIO.
Faith, I must; she'll rail in the street else.
IAGO.
Will you sup there?
CASSIO.
Faith, I intend so.
IAGO.
Well, I may chance to see you; for I would very fain
speak with you.
CASSIO.
Pr'ythee, come; will you?
IAGO.
Go to; say no more.
[Exit Cassio.]
OTHELLO.
[Coming forward.] How shall I murder him, Iago?
IAGO.
Did you perceive how he laughed at his vice?
OTHELLO.
O Iago!
IAGO.
And did you see the handkerchief?
OTHELLO.
Was that mine?
IAGO.
Yours, by this hand: and to see how he prizes the foolish woman
your wife! she gave it him, and he hath given it his whore.
OTHELLO.
I would have him nine years a-killing.--A fine woman! a fair
woman! a sweet woman!
IAGO.
Nay, you must forget that.
OTHELLO.
Ay, let her rot, and perish, and be damned to-night; for
she shall not live: no, my heart is turned to stone; I strike
it, and it hurts my hand.--O, the world hath not a sweeter
creature: she might lie by an emperor's side, and command him
tasks.
IAGO.
Nay, that's not your way.
OTHELLO.
Hang her! I do but say what she is:--so delicate with her
needle!--an admirable musician! O, she will sing the savageness
out of a bear!--Of so high and plenteous wit and invention!--
IAGO.
She's the worse for all this.
OTHELLO.
O, a thousand, a thousand times:--and then, of so gentle a
condition!
IAGO.
Ay, too gentle.
OTHELLO.
Nay, that's certain:--but yet the pity of it, Iago!
O Iago, the pity of it, Iago!
IAGO.
If you are so fond over her iniquity, give her patent to
offend; for, if it touch not you, it comes near nobody.
OTHELLO.
I will chop her into messes.--Cuckold me!
IAGO.
O, 'tis foul in her.
OTHELLO.
With mine officer!
IAGO.
That's fouler.
OTHELLO.
Get me some poison, Iago; this night.--I'll not expostulate
with her, lest her body and beauty unprovide my mind again:--
this night, Iago.
IAGO.
Do it not with poison; strangle her in her bed, even the
bed she hath contaminated.
OTHELLO.
Good, good: the justice of it pleases: very good.
IAGO.
And for Cassio,--let me be his undertaker:--you shall hear
more by midnight.
OTHELLO.
Excellent good. [A trumpet within.] What trumpet is that same?
IAGO.
Something from Venice, sure. 'Tis Lodovico
Come from the duke: and, see, your wife is with him.
[Enter Lodovico, Desdemona, and Attendants.]
LODOVICO.
Save you, worthy general!
OTHELLO.
With all my heart, sir.
LODOVICO.
The duke and senators of Venice greet you.
[Gives him a packet.]
OTHELLO.
I kiss the instrument of their pleasures.
[Opens the packet and reads.]
DESDEMONA.
And what's the news, good cousin Lodovico?
IAGO.
I am very glad to see you, signior;
Welcome to Cyprus.
LODOVICO.
I thank you. How does Lieutenant Cassio?
IAGO.
Lives, sir.
DESDEMONA.
Cousin, there's fall'n between him and my lord
An unkind breach: but you shall make all well.
OTHELLO.
Are you sure of that?
DESDEMONA.
My lord?
OTHELLO.
[Reads.] "This fail you not to do, as you will,--"
LODOVICO.
He did not call; he's busy in the paper.
Is there division 'twixt my lord and Cassio?
DESDEMONA.
A most unhappy one: I would do much
To atone them, for the love I bear to Cassio.
OTHELLO.
Fire and brimstone!
DESDEMONA.
My lord?
OTHELLO.
Are you wise?
DESDEMONA.
What, is he angry?
LODOVICO.
May be the letter mov'd him;
For, as I think, they do command him home,
Deputing Cassio in his government.
DESDEMONA.
Trust me, I am glad on't.
OTHELLO.
Indeed!
DESDEMONA.
My lord?
OTHELLO.
I am glad to see you mad.
DESDEMONA.
Why, sweet Othello,--
OTHELLO.
Devil! [Striking her.]
DESDEMONA.
I have not deserv'd this.
LODOVICO.
My lord, this would not be believ'd in Venice,
Though I should swear I saw't: 'tis very much:
Make her amends; she weeps.
OTHELLO.
O devil, devil!
If that the earth could teem with woman's tears,
Each drop she falls would prove a crocodile.--
Out of my sight!
DESDEMONA.
[Going.] I will not stay to offend you.
LODOVICO.
Truly, an obedient lady:--
I do beseech your lordship, call her back.
OTHELLO.
Mistress!
DESDEMONA.
My lord?
OTHELLO.
What would you with her, sir?
LODOVICO.
Who, I, my lord?
OTHELLO.
Ay; you did wish that I would make her turn:
Sir, she can turn, and turn, and yet go on,
And turn again; and she can weep, sir, weep;
And she's obedient, as you say,--obedient,--
Very obedient.--Proceed you in your tears.--
Concerning this, sir,--O well-painted passion!
I am commanded home.--Get you away;
I'll send for you anon.--Sir, I obey the mandate,
And will return to Venice.--Hence, avaunt!
[Exit Desdemona.]
Cassio shall have my place. And, sir, to-night,
I do entreat that we may sup together:
You are welcome, sir, to Cyprus.--Goats and monkeys!
[Exit.]
LODOVICO.
Is this the noble Moor whom our full senate
Call all-in-all sufficient? Is this the nature
Whom passion could not shake? whose solid virtue
The shot of accident nor dart of chance
Could neither graze nor pierce?
IAGO.
He is much chang'd.
LODOVICO.
Are his wits safe? is he not light of brain?
IAGO.
He's that he is: I may not breathe my censure
What he might be,--if what he might he is not,--
I would to heaven he were!
LODOVICO.
What, strike his wife!
IAGO.
Faith, that was not so well; yet would I knew
That stroke would prove the worst!
LODOVICO.
Is it his use?
Or did the letters work upon his blood,
And new-create this fault?
IAGO.
Alas, alas!
It is not honesty in me to speak
What I have seen and known. You shall observe him;
And his own courses will denote him so
That I may save my speech: do but go after,
And mark how he continues.
LODOVICO.
I am sorry that I am deceiv'd in him.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE II. Cyprus. A Room in the Castle.
[Enter Othello and Emilia.]
OTHELLO.
You have seen nothing, then?
EMILIA.
Nor ever heard, nor ever did suspect.
OTHELLO.
Yes, you have seen Cassio and she together.
EMILIA.
But then I saw no harm, and then I heard
Each syllable that breath made up between them.
OTHELLO.
What, did they never whisper?
EMILIA.
Never, my lord.
OTHELLO.
Nor send you out o' the way?
EMILIA.
Never.
OTHELLO.
To fetch her fan, her gloves, her mask, nor nothing?
EMILIA.
Never, my lord.
OTHELLO.
That's strange.
EMILIA.
I durst, my lord, to wager she is honest,
Lay down my soul at stake: if you think other,
Remove your thought,--it doth abuse your bosom.
If any wretch have put this in your head,
Let heaven requite it with the serpent's curse!
For if she be not honest, chaste, and true,
There's no man happy; the purest of their wives
Is foul as slander.
OTHELLO.
Bid her come hither.--Go.
[Exit Emilia.]
She says enough; yet she's a simple bawd
That cannot say as much. This is a subtle whore,
A closet-lock-and-key of villainous secrets:
And yet she'll kneel and pray; I have seen her do't.
[Enter Emilia with Desdemona.]
DESDEMONA.
My lord, what is your will?
OTHELLO.
Pray, chuck, come hither.
DESDEMONA.
What is your pleasure?
OTHELLO.
Let me see your eyes;
Look in my face.
DESDEMONA.
What horrible fancy's this?
OTHELLO.
Some of your function, mistress, [To Emilia.]
Leave procreants alone and shut the door;
Cough, or cry hem, if anybody come.
Your mystery, your mystery;--nay, despatch.
[Exit Emilia.]
DESDEMONA.
Upon my knees, what doth your speech import?
I understand a fury in your words,
But not the words.
OTHELLO.
Why, what art thou?
DESDEMONA.
Your wife, my lord; your true and loyal wife.
OTHELLO.
Come, swear it, damn thyself;
Lest, being like one of heaven, the devils themselves
Should fear to seize thee: 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 pleas'd heaven
To try me with affliction; had they rain'd
All kinds of sores and shames on my bare head;
Steep'd me in poverty to the very lips;
Given to captivity me and my utmost hopes;
I should have found in some place of my soul
A drop of patience: but, alas, to make me
A fixed figure for the time, for scorn
To point his slow unmoving finger at!--
Yet could I bear that too; well, very well:
But there, where I have garner'd up my heart;
Where either I must live or bear no life,--
The fountain from the which my current runs,
Or else dries up; to be discarded thence!
Or keep it as a cistern for foul toads
To knot and gender in!--turn thy complexion there,
Patience, thou young and rose-lipp'd cherubin,--
Ay, there, look grim as hell!
DESDEMONA.
I hope my noble lord esteems me honest.
OTHELLO.
O, ay; as summer flies are in the shambles,
That quicken even with blowing. O thou weed,
Who art so lovely fair, and smell'st so sweet,
That the sense aches at thee,--would thou hadst ne'er been born!
DESDEMONA.
Alas, what ignorant sin have I committed?
OTHELLO.
Was this fair paper, this most goodly book,
Made to write "whore" upon? What committed!
Committed!--O thou public commoner!
I should make very forges of my cheeks,
That would to cinders burn up modesty,
Did I but speak thy deeds.--What committed!
Heaven stops the nose at it, and the moon winks;
The bawdy wind, that kisses all it meets,
Is hush'd within the hollow mine of earth,
And will not hear it.--What committed!--
Impudent strumpet!
DESDEMONA.
By heaven, you do me wrong.
OTHELLO.
Are not you a strumpet?
DESDEMONA.
No, as I am a Christian:
If to preserve this vessel for my lord
From any other foul unlawful touch
Be not to be a strumpet, I am none.
OTHELLO.
What, not a whore?
DESDEMONA.
No, as I shall be sav'd.
OTHELLO.
Is't possible?
DESDEMONA.
O, heaven forgive us!
OTHELLO.
I cry you mercy then:
I took you for that cunning whore of Venice
That married with Othello.--You, mistress,
That have the office opposite to Saint Peter,
And keep the gate of hell!
[Re-enter Emilia.]
You, you, ay, you!
We have done our course; there's money for your pains:
I pray you, turn the key, and keep our counsel.
[Exit.]
EMILIA.
Alas, what does this gentleman conceive?--
How do you, madam? how do you, my good lady?
DESDEMONA.
Faith, half asleep.
EMILIA.
Good madam, what's the matter with my lord?
DESDEMONA.
With who?
EMILIA.
Why, with my lord, madam.
DESDEMONA.
Who is thy lord?
EMILIA.
He that is yours, sweet lady.
DESDEMONA.
I have none: do not talk to me, Emilia;
I cannot weep; nor answer have I none
But what should go by water. Pr'ythee, to-night
Lay on my bed my wedding sheets,--remember;--
And call thy husband hither.
EMILIA.
Here's a change indeed!
[Exit.]
DESDEMONA.
'Tis meet I should be us'd so, very meet.
How have I been behav'd, that he might stick
The small'st opinion on my least misuse?
[Re-enter Emilia with Iago.]
IAGO.
What is your pleasure, madam? How is't with you?
DESDEMONA.
I cannot tell. Those that do teach young babes
Do it with gentle means and easy tasks:
He might have chid me so; for in good faith,
I am a child to chiding.
IAGO.
What's the matter, lady?
EMILIA.
Alas, Iago, my lord hath so bewhor'd her,
Thrown such despite and heavy terms upon her,
As true hearts cannot bear.
DESDEMONA.
Am I that name, Iago?
IAGO.
What name, fair lady?
DESDEMONA.
Such as she says my lord did say I was.
EMILIA.
He call'd her whore: a beggar in his drink
Could not have laid such terms upon his callet.
IAGO.
Why did he so?
DESDEMONA.
I do not know; I am sure I am none such.
IAGO.
Do not weep, do not weep:--alas the day!
EMILIA.
Hath she forsook so many noble matches,
Her father, and her country, and her friends,
To be call'd whore? would it not make one weep?
DESDEMONA.
It is my wretched fortune.
IAGO.
Beshrew him for't!
How comes this trick upon him?
DESDEMONA.
Nay, heaven doth know.
EMILIA.
I will be hang'd, if some eternal villain,
Some busy and insinuating rogue,
Some cogging, cozening slave, to get some office,
Have not devis'd this slander; I'll be hang'd else.
IAGO.
Fie, there is no such man; it is impossible.
DESDEMONA.
If any such there be, heaven pardon him!
EMILIA.
A halter pardon him! and hell gnaw his bones!
Why should he call her whore? who keeps her company?
What place? what time? what form? what likelihood?
The Moor's abused by some most villainous knave,
Some base notorious knave, some scurvy fellow:--
O heaven, that such companions thou'dst unfold,
And put in every honest hand a whip
To lash the rascals naked through the world
Even from the east to the west!
IAGO.
Speak within door.
EMILIA.
O, fie upon them! some such squire he was
That turn'd your wit the seamy side without,
And made you to suspect me with the Moor.
IAGO.
You are a fool; go to.
DESDEMONA.
Alas, Iago,
What shall I do to win my lord again?
Good friend, go to him; for by this light of heaven,
I know not how I lost him. Here I kneel:--
If e'er my will did trespass 'gainst his love,
Either in discourse of thought or actual deed;
Or that mine eyes, mine ears, or any sense,
Delighted them in any other form;
Or that I do not yet, and ever did,
And ever will, though he do shake me off
To beggarly divorcement,--love him dearly,
Comfort forswear me! Unkindness may do much;
And his unkindness may defeat my life,
But never taint my love. I cannot say "whore,"--
It does abhor me now I speak the word;
To do the act that might the addition earn
Not the world's mass of vanity could make me.
IAGO.
I pray you, be content; 'tis but his humour:
The business of the state does him offence,
And he does chide with you.
DESDEMONA.
If 'twere no other,--
IAGO.
'Tis but so, I warrant.
[Trumpets within.]
Hark, how these instruments summon to supper!
The messengers of Venice stay the meat:
Go in, and weep not; all things shall be well.
[Exeunt Desdemona and Emilia.]
[Enter Roderigo.]
How now, Roderigo!
RODERIGO.
I do not find that thou dealest justly with me.
IAGO.
What in the contrary?
RODERIGO.
Every day thou daffest me with some device, Iago; and rather,
as it seems to me now, keepest from me all conveniency than
suppliest me with the least advantage of hope. I will indeed
no longer endure it; nor am I yet persuaded to put up in
peace what already I have foolishly suffered.
IAGO.
Will you hear me, Roderigo?
RODERIGO.
Faith, I have heard too much; for your words and performances
are no kin together.
IAGO.
You charge me most unjustly.
RODERIGO.
With naught but truth. I have wasted myself out of my means.
The jewels you have had from me to deliver to Desdemona would
half have corrupted a votarist: you have told me she hath
received them, and returned me expectations and comforts of
sudden respect and acquaintance; but I find none.
IAGO.
Well; go to; very well.
RODERIGO.
Very well! go to! I cannot go to, man; nor 'tis not very well:
nay, I say 'tis very scurvy, and begin to find myself fobbed
in it.
IAGO.
Very well.
RODERIGO.
I tell you 'tis not very well. I will make myself known to
Desdemona: if she will return me my jewels, I will give over
my suit and repent my unlawful solicitation; if not, assure
yourself I will seek satisfaction of you.
IAGO.
You have said now.
RODERIGO.
Ay, and said nothing but what I protest intendment of doing.
IAGO.
Why, now I see there's mettle in thee; and even from this
instant do build on thee a better opinion than ever before.
Give me thy hand, Roderigo. Thou hast taken against me a most
just exception; but yet, I protest, 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 judgement. But, Roderigo, if thou hast that in
thee indeed, which I have greater reason to believe now than
ever,--I mean purpose, courage, and valour,--this night show
it: if thou the next night following enjoy not Desdemona, take
me from this world with treachery and devise engines for my
life.
RODERIGO.
Well, what is it? is it within reason and compass?
IAGO.
Sir, there is especial commission come from Venice to depute
Cassio in Othello's place.
RODERIGO.
Is that true? why then Othello and Desdemona return again to
Venice.
IAGO.
O, no; he goes into Mauritania, and takes away with him the
fair Desdemona, unless his abode be lingered here by some
accident: wherein none can be so determinate as the removing
of Cassio.
RODERIGO.
How do you mean "removing" of him?
IAGO.
Why, by making him uncapable of Othello's place;--knocking
out his brains.
RODERIGO.
And that you would have me to do?
IAGO.
Ay, if you dare do yourself a profit and a right. He sups
to-night with a harlotry, and thither will I go to him:--he
knows not yet of his honourable fortune. If you will watch his
going thence,--which 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 supper-time, and the night grows to
waste: about it.
RODERIGO.
I will hear further reason for this.
IAGO.
And you shall be satisfied.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE III. Cyprus. Another Room in the Castle.
[Enter Othello, Lodovico, Desdemona, Emilia, and Attendants.]
LODOVICO.
I do beseech you, sir, trouble yourself no further.
OTHELLO.
O, pardon me; 'twill do me good to walk.
LODOVICO.
Madam, good night; I humbly thank your ladyship.
DESDEMONA.
Your honour is most welcome.
OTHELLO.
Will you walk, sir?--
O,--Desdemona,--
DESDEMONA.
My lord?
OTHELLO.
Get you to bed on the instant; I will be returned
forthwith: dismiss your attendant there: look't be done.
DESDEMONA.
I will, my lord.
[Exeunt Othello, Lodovico, and Attendants.]
EMILIA.
How goes it now? he looks gentler than he did.
DESDEMONA.
He says he will return incontinent:
He hath commanded me to go to bed,
And bade me to dismiss you.
EMILIA.
Dismiss me!
DESDEMONA.
It was his bidding; therefore, good Emilia,
Give me my nightly wearing, and adieu:
We must not now displease him.
EMILIA.
I would you had never seen him!
DESDEMONA.
So would not I: my love doth so approve him,
That even his stubbornness, his checks, his frowns,--
Pr'ythee, unpin me,--have grace and favour in them.
EMILIA.
I have laid those sheets you bade me on the bed.
DESDEMONA.
All's one.--Good faith, how foolish are our minds!--
If I do die before thee, pr'ythee, shroud me
In one of those same sheets.
EMILIA.
Come, come, you talk.
DESDEMONA.
My mother had a maid call'd Barbara;
She was in love; and he she lov'd prov'd mad
And did forsake her: she had a song of "willow";
An old thing 'twas, but it express'd her fortune,
And she died singing it: that song to-night
Will not go from my mind; I have much to do
But to go hang my head all at one side,
And sing it like poor Barbara. Pr'ythee, despatch.
EMILIA.
Shall I go fetch your night-gown?
DESDEMONA.
No, unpin me here.--
This Lodovico is a proper man.
EMILIA.
A very handsome man.
DESDEMONA.
He speaks well.
EMILIA.
I know a lady in Venice would have walked barefoot to
Palestine for a touch of his nether lip.
DESDEMONA.
[Sings.]
"The poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree,
Sing all a green willow;
Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee,
Sing willow, willow, willow:
The fresh streams ran by her, and murmur'd her moans;
Sing willow, willow, willow;
Her salt tears fell from her, and soften'd the stones;--"
Lay by these:--
[Sings.]
"Sing willow, willow, willow;--"
Pr'ythee, hie thee; he'll come anon:--
[Sings.]
"Sing all a green willow must be my garland.
Let nobody blame him; his scorn I approve,--"
Nay, that's not next.--Hark! who is't that knocks?
EMILIA.
It's the wind.
DESDEMONA.
[Sings.]
"I call'd my love false love; but what said he then?
Sing willow, willow, willow:
'If I court mo women, you'll couch with mo men.'"
So get thee gone; good night. Mine eyes do itch;
Doth that bode weeping?
EMILIA.
'Tis neither here nor there.
DESDEMONA.
I have heard it said so.--O, these men, these men!--
Dost thou in conscience think,--tell me, Emilia,--
That there be women do abuse their husbands
In such gross kind?
EMILIA.
There be some such, no question.
DESDEMONA.
Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world?
EMILIA.
Why, would not you?
DESDEMONA.
No, by this heavenly light!
EMILIA.
Nor I neither by this heavenly light; I might do't as well
i' the dark.
DESDEMONA.
Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world?
EMILIA.
The world's a huge thing; it is a great price
For a small vice.
DESDEMONA.
In troth, I think thou wouldst not.
EMILIA.
In troth, I think I should; and undo't when I had done. Marry,
I would not do such a thing for a joint-ring, nor for measures
of lawn, nor for gowns, petticoats, nor caps, nor any petty
exhibition; but, for the whole world--why, who would not make
her husband a cuckold to make him a monarch? I should venture
purgatory for't.
DESDEMONA.
Beshrew me, if I would do such a wrong for the whole world.
EMILIA.
Why, the wrong is but a wrong i' the world; and having the
world for your labour, 'tis a wrong in your own world, and you
might quickly make it right.
DESDEMONA.
I do not think there is any such woman.
EMILIA.
Yes, a dozen; and as many to the vantage as would store
the world they play'd for.
But I do think it is their husbands' faults
If wives do fall: say that they slack their duties
And pour our treasures into foreign laps;
Or else break out in peevish jealousies,
Throwing restraint upon us; or say they strike us,
Or scant our former having in despite;
Why, we have galls; and though we have some grace,
Yet have we some revenge. Let husbands know
Their wives have sense like them: they see and smell
And have their palates both for sweet and sour,
As husbands have. What is it that they do
When they change us for others? Is it sport?
I think it is: and doth affection breed it?
I think it doth: is't frailty that thus errs?
It is so too. And have not we affections,
Desires for sport, and frailty, as men have?
Then let them use us well: else let them know
The ills we do their ills instruct us so.
DESDEMONA.
Good-night, good-night: heaven me such usage send,
Not to pick bad from bad, but by bad mend!
[Exeunt.]
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 to a little distance.]
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.
[Goes to his stand.]
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!
[Rushes out, and 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 rushes from his post, cuts Cassio behind in the leg, and
exit.]
CASSIO.
I am maim'd forever.--Help, ho! murder! murder!
[Falls.]
[Enter Othello at a distance.]
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 unbless'd 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 at a distance.]
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 cries 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!--
[To Lodovico and Gratiano.] What are you there?
Come in and give some help.
RODERIGO.
O, help me here!
CASSIO.
That's one of them.
IAGO.
O murderous slave! O villain!
[Stabs Roderigo.]
RODERIGO.
O damn'd Iago! O inhuman dog!
IAGO.
Kill men i' the dark!--Where be these bloody thieves?--
How silent is this town!--Ho! murder! murder!--
What may you be? are you of good or evil?
LODOVICO.
As you shall prove us, praise us.
IAGO.
Signior Lodovico?
LODOVICO.
He, sir.
IAGO.
I cry you mercy. Here's Cassio hurt by villains.
GRATIANO.
Cassio!
IAGO.
How is't, brother?
CASSIO.
My leg is cut in two.
IAGO.
Marry, heaven forbid!--
Light, gentlemen:--I'll bind it with my shirt.
[Enter Bianca.]
BIANCA.
What is the matter, ho? who is't that cried?
IAGO.
Who is't that cried!
BIANCA.
O my dear Cassio, my sweet Cassio! O Cassio, Cassio, Cassio!
IAGO.
O notable strumpet!--Cassio, may you suspect
Who they should be that have thus mangled you?
CASSIO.
No.
GRATIANO.
I am sorry to find you thus: I have been to seek you.
IAGO.
Lend me a garter:--so.--O, for a chair,
To bear him easily hence!
BIANCA.
Alas, he faints!--O Cassio, Cassio, Cassio!
IAGO.
Gentlemen all, I do suspect this trash
To be a party in this injury.--
Patience awhile, good Cassio.--Come, come;
Lend me a light.--Know we this face or no?
Alas, my friend and my dear countryman
Roderigo? no:--yes, sure; O heaven! Roderigo.
GRATIANO.
What, of Venice?
IAGO.
Even he, sir: did you know him?
GRATIANO.
Know him! ay.
IAGO.
Signior Gratiano? I cry you gentle pardon;
These bloody accidents must excuse my manners,
That so neglected you.
GRATIANO.
I am glad to see you.
IAGO.
How do you, Cassio?--O, a chair, a chair!
GRATIANO.
Roderigo!
IAGO.
He, he, 'tis he.-- [A chair brought in.] O, that's well said;
--the chair:--
Some good man bear him carefully from hence;
I'll fetch the general's surgeon. [To Bianca.] For you, mistress,
Save you your labour.--He that lies slain here, Cassio,
Was my dear friend: what malice was between you?
CASSIO.
None in the world; nor do I know the man.
IAGO.
[To Bianca.] What, look you pale?--O, bear him out o' the air.
[Cassio and Roderigo are borne off.]
Stay you, good gentlemen.--Look you pale, mistress?--
Do you perceive the gastness of her eye?--
Nay, if you stare, we shall hear more anon.--
Behold her well; I pray you, look upon her:
Do you see, gentlemen? nay, guiltiness will speak
Though tongues were out of use.
[Enter Emilia.]
EMILIA.
'Las, what's the matter? what's the matter, husband?
IAGO.
Cassio hath here been set on in the dark
By Roderigo, and fellows that are 'scap'd:
He's almost slain, and Roderigo dead.
EMILIA.
Alas, good gentleman! alas, good Cassio!
IAGO.
This is the fruit of whoring.--Pr'ythee, Emilia,
Go know of Cassio where he supp'd to-night.--
What, do you shake at that?
BIANCA.
He supp'd at my house; but I therefore shake not.
IAGO.
O, did he so? I charge you, go with me.
EMILIA.
Fie, fie upon thee, strumpet!
BIANCA.
I am no strumpet, but of life as honest
As you that thus abuse me.
EMILIA.
As I! foh! fie upon thee!
IAGO.
Kind gentlemen, let's go see poor Cassio dress'd.--
Come, mistress, you must tell's another tale.--
Emilia, run you to the citadel,
And tell my lord and lady what hath happ'd.--
Will you go on afore? [Aside.] This is the night
That either makes me or fordoes me quite.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE II. Cyprus. A Bedchamber in the castle: Desdemona in bed
asleep; a light burning.
[Enter Othello.]
OTHELLO.
It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul,--
Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars!--
It is the cause.--Yet I'll not shed her blood;
Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow,
And smooth as monumental alabaster.
[Takes off his sword.]
Yet she must die, else she'll betray more men.
Put out the light, and then put out the light:
If I quench thee, thou flaming minister,
I can again thy former light restore,
Should I repent me:--but once put out thy light,
Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature,
I know not where is that Promethean heat
That can thy light relume. When I have pluck'd thy rose,
I cannot give it vital growth again,
It must needs wither:--I'll smell it on the tree.--
[Kissing her.]
O, balmy breath, that dost almost persuade
Justice to break her sword!--One more, one more;--
Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee,
And love thee after.--One more, and this the last;
So sweet was ne'er so fatal. I must weep,
But they are cruel tears: this sorrow's heavenly;
It strikes where it doth love.--She wakes.
DESDEMONA.
Who's there? Othello?
OTHELLO.
Ay, Desdemona.
DESDEMONA.
Will you come to bed, my lord?
OTHELLO.
Have you pray'd to-night, Desdemona?
DESDEMONA.
Ay, my lord.
OTHELLO.
If you bethink yourself of any crime
Unreconcil'd as yet to heaven and grace,
Solicit for it straight.
DESDEMONA.
Alack, my lord, what may you mean by that?
OTHELLO.
Well, do it, and be brief; I will walk by.
I would not kill thy unprepared spirit;
No,--heaven forfend!--I would not kill thy soul.
DESDEMONA.
Talk you of killing?
OTHELLO.
Ay, I do.
DESDEMONA.
Then heaven have mercy on me!
OTHELLO.
Amen, with all my heart!
DESDEMONA.
If you say so, I hope you will not kill me.
OTHELLO.
Hum!
DESDEMONA.
And yet I fear you; for you are fatal then
When your eyes roll so: why I should fear I know not,
Since guiltiness I know not; but yet I feel I fear.
OTHELLO.
Think on thy sins.
DESDEMONA.
They are loves I bear to you.
OTHELLO.
Ay, and for that thou diest.
DESDEMONA.
That death's unnatural that kills for loving.--
Alas, why gnaw you so your nether lip?
Some bloody passion shakes your very frame:
These are portents; but yet I hope, I hope,
They do not point on me.
OTHELLO.
Peace, and be still!
DESDEMONA.
I will so. What's the matter?
OTHELLO.
That handkerchief which I so loved and gave thee
Thou gav'st to Cassio.
DESDEMONA.
No, by my life and soul!
Send for the man, and ask him.
OTHELLO.
Sweet soul, take heed,
Take heed of perjury; thou'rt on thy death-bed.
DESDEMONA.
Ay, but not yet to die.
OTHELLO.
Yes, presently:
Therefore confess thee freely of thy sin;
For to deny each article with oath
Cannot remove nor choke the strong conception
That I do groan withal. Thou art to die.
DESDEMONA.
Then, Lord have mercy on me!
OTHELLO.
I say, amen.
DESDEMONA.
And have you mercy too!--I never did
Offend you in my life; never lov'd Cassio
But with such general warranty of heaven
As I might love: I never gave him token.
OTHELLO.
By heaven, I saw my handkerchief in 's hand.
O perjur'd woman! thou dost stone my heart,
And mak'st me call what I intend to do
A murder, which I thought a sacrifice:
I saw the handkerchief.
DESDEMONA.
He found it then;
I never gave it him:--send for him hither;
Let him confess a truth.
OTHELLO.
He hath confess'd.
DESDEMONA.
What, my lord?
OTHELLO.
That he hath us'd thee.
DESDEMONA.
How? unlawfully?
OTHELLO.
Ay.
DESDEMONA.
He will not say so.
OTHELLO.
No, his mouth is stopp'd;
Honest Iago hath ta'en order for't.
DESDEMONA.
O, my fear interprets!--What, is he dead?
OTHELLO.
Had all his hairs been lives, my great revenge
Had stomach for them all.
DESDEMONA.
Alas, he is betray'd, and I undone!
OTHELLO.
Out, strumpet! Weep'st thou for him to my face?
DESDEMONA.
O, banish me, my lord, but kill me not!
OTHELLO.
Down, strumpet!
DESDEMONA.
Kill me to-morrow; let me live to-night!
OTHELLO.
Nay, if you strive,--
DESDEMONA.
But half an hour!
OTHELLO.
Being done, there is no pause.
DESDEMONA.
But while I say one prayer!
OTHELLO.
It is too late.
[Smothers her.]
EMILIA.
[Within.] My lord, my lord! what, ho! my lord, my lord!
OTHELLO.
What noise is this?--Not dead? not yet quite dead?
I that am cruel am yet merciful;
I would not have thee linger in thy pain:--
So, so.
EMILIA.
[Within.] What, ho! my lord, my lord!
OTHELLO.
Who's there?
EMILIA.
[Within.] O, good my lord, I would speak a word with you!
OTHELLO.
Yes:--'tis Emilia:--by and by.--She's dead.--
'Tis like she comes to speak of Cassio's death;
The noise was high.--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.
EMILIA.
[Within.] I do beseech you
That I may speak with you, O, good my lord!
OTHELLO.
I had forgot thee: O, come in, Emilia:--
Soft,--by and by:--let me the curtains draw.--
Where art thou?
[Unlocks the door.]
[Enter Emilia.]
What's the matter with thee now?
EMILIA.
O, my good lord, yonder's foul murders done!
OTHELLO.
What, now?
EMILIA.
But now, my lord.
OTHELLO.
It is the very error of the moon;
She comes more nearer earth than she was wont
And makes men mad.
EMILIA.
Cassio, my lord, hath kill'd a young Venetian
Call'd Roderigo.
OTHELLO.
Roderigo kill'd?
And Cassio kill'd?
EMILIA.
No, Cassio is not kill'd.
OTHELLO.
Not Cassio kill'd! then murder's out of tune,
And sweet revenge grows harsh.
DESDEMONA.
O, falsely, falsely murder'd!
EMILIA.
Alas, what cry is that?
OTHELLO.
That! what?
EMILIA.
Out, and alas! That was my lady's voice.--
Help! help, ho! help!--O lady, speak again!
Sweet Desdemona! O sweet mistress, speak!
DESDEMONA.
A guiltless death I die.
EMILIA.
O, who hath done this deed?
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 tup 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'd 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 iterance, woman? I say thy husband.
EMILIA.
O mistress, villainy hath made mocks with love!--
My husband say that she was false!
OTHELLO.
He, woman;
I say thy husband: dost understand the word?
My friend, thy husband, honest, honest Iago.
EMILIA.
If he say so, may his pernicious soul
Rot half a grain a day! he lies to the heart:
She was too fond of her most filthy bargain.
OTHELLO.
Ha!
EMILIA.
Do thy worst:
This deed of thine is no more worthy heaven
Than thou wast worthy her.
OTHELLO.
Peace, you were best.
EMILIA.
Thou hast not half that power to do me harm
As I have to be hurt. O gull! O dolt!
As ignorant as dirt! thou hast done a deed,--
I care not for thy sword; I'll make thee known,
Though I lost twenty lives.--Help! help, ho! help!
The Moor hath kill'd my mistress! murder, murder!
[Enter Montano, Gratiano, and Iago.]
MONTANO.
What is the matter?--How now, general!
EMILIA.
O, are you come, Iago? you have done well,
That men must lay their murders on your neck.
GRATIANO.
What is the matter?
EMILIA.
Disprove this villain, if thou be'st a man:
He says thou told'st him that his wife was false:
I know thou didst not, thou'rt not such a villain:
Speak, for my heart is full.
IAGO.
I told him what I thought; and told no more
Than what he found himself was apt and true.
EMILIA.
But did you ever tell him she was false?
IAGO.
I did.
EMILIA.
You told a lie; an odious, damned lie;
Upon my soul, a lie; a wicked lie:--
She false with Cassio!--Did you say with Cassio?
IAGO.
With Cassio, mistress. Go to, charm your tongue.
EMILIA.
I will not charm my tongue; I am bound to speak:
My mistress here lies murder'd in her bed,--
ALL.
O heavens forfend!
EMILIA.
And your reports have set the murder on.
OTHELLO.
Nay, stare not, masters: it is true, indeed.
GRATIANO.
'Tis a strange truth.
MONTANO.
O monstrous act!
EMILIA.
Villany, villany, villany!
I think upon't,--I think,--I smell't;--O villany!--
I thought so then;--I'll kill myself for grief:--
O villany, villany!
IAGO.
What, are you mad? I charge you, get you home.
EMILIA.
Good gentlemen, let me have leave to speak:
'Tis proper I obey him, but not now.--
Perchance, Iago, I will ne'er go home.
OTHELLO.
O! O! O!
[Hanging over his wife.]
EMILIA.
Nay, lay thee down and roar;
For thou hast kill'd the sweetest innocent
That e'er did lift up eye.
OTHELLO.
[Rising.] O, she was foul!--
I scarce did know you, uncle; there lies your niece,
Whose breath, indeed, these hands have newly stopp'd:
I know this act shows horrible and grim.
GRATIANO.
Poor Desdemona! I am glad thy father's dead:
Thy match was mortal to him, and pure grief
Shore his old thread in twain: did he live now,
This sight would make him do a desperate turn,
Yea, curse his better angel from his side,
And fall to reprobance.
OTHELLO.
'Tis pitiful; but yet Iago knows
That she with Cassio hath the act of shame
A thousand times committed; Cassio confess'd it:
And she did gratify his amorous works
With that recognizance and pledge of love
Which I first gave her; I saw it in his hand:
It was a handkerchief, an antique token
My father gave my mother.
EMILIA.
O heaven! O heavenly powers!
IAGO.
Come, hold your peace.
EMILIA.
'Twill out, 'twill out:--I peace!
No, I will speak as liberal as the north:
Let heaven and men and devils, let them all,
All, all, cry shame against me, yet I'll speak.
IAGO.
Be wise, and get you home.
EMILIA.
I will not.
[Iago offers to stab his wife.]
GRATIANO.
Fie!
Your sword upon a woman?
EMILIA.
O thou dull Moor! that handkerchief thou speak'st of
I found by fortune and did give my husband;
For often with a solemn earnestness,--
More than, indeed, belong'd to such a trifle,--
He begg'd of me to steal it.
IAGO.
Villanous whore!
EMILIA.
She give it Cassio! no, alas, I found it,
And I did give't my husband.
IAGO.
Filth, thou liest!
EMILIA.
By heaven, I do not, I do not, gentlemen.--
O murderous coxcomb! What should such a fool
Do with so good a wife?
OTHELLO.
Are there not stones in heaven
But what serve for thunder?--Precious villain!
[Iago stabs Emilia, and then runs out.]
GRATIANO.
The woman falls; sure, he hath kill'd his wife.
EMILIA.
Ay, ay:--O, lay me by my mistress' side.
GRATIANO.
He's gone, but his wife's kill'd.
MONTANO.
'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.
[Exit Montano and Gratiano.]
OTHELLO.
I am not valiant neither,
But every puny whipster gets my sword:--
But why should honour outlive honesty?
Let it go all.
EMILIA.
What did thy song bode, lady?
Hark, canst thou hear me? I will play the swan,
And die in music:--
[Sings.] "Willow, willow, willow."
Moor, she was chaste; she lov'd thee, cruel Moor;
So come my soul to bliss, as I speak true;
So speaking as I think, I die,--I die.
[Dies.]
OTHELLO.
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.
GRATIANO.
[Within.] If thou attempt it, it will cost thee dear:
Thou hast no weapon, and perforce must suffer.
OTHELLO.
Look in upon me then, and speak with me,
Or, naked as I am, I will assault thee.
[Re-enter Gratiano.]
GRATIANO.
What is the matter?
OTHELLO.
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, 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 Desdemon! dead, Desdemon! dead! O!
