Othello

Othello

DRAMATIS PERSONAE (Persons Represented):

DUKE OF VENICE.

BRABANTIO, a Senator.

Other Senators.

GRATIANO, Brother to Brabantio.

LODOVICO, Kinsman to Brabantio.

OTHELLO, a noble Moor, in the service of Venice.

CASSIO, his Lieutenant.

IAGO, his Ancient.

RODERIGO, a Venetian Gentleman.

MONTANO, Othello's predecessor in the government of Cyprus.

CLOWN, Servant to Othello.

Herald.

DESDEMONA, Daughter to Brabantio, and Wife to Othello.

EMILIA, Wife to Iago.

BIANCA, Mistress to Cassio.

Officers, Gentlemen, Messenger, Musicians, Herald, Sailor, Attendants, &c.

SCENE: The First Act in Venice; during the rest of the Play at a Seaport in Cyprus.

Act 1

ACT 1. SCENE I. Venice. A street.

Enter Roderigo and Iago

Roderigo

(Tush) never tell me; I take it much unkindly

That thou, Iago, who hast had my purse

As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this.

Iago

(S'blood), but you will not hear me!

If ever I did dream of such a matter,

Abhor me.

Roderigo

Thou toldst me thou didst hold him in thy hate.

Iago

Despise me

If I do not. Three great ones of the city,

In personal suit to make me his lieutenant,

Off-capped to him; and, by the faith of man,

I know my price, I am worth no worse a place.

But he, as loving his own pride and purposes,

Evades them with a bombast circumstance,

Horribly stuff'd with epithets of war,

(And, in conclusion),

Nonsuits my mediators. For, "Certes," says he,

"I have already chose my officer."

And what was he?

Forsooth, a great arithmetician,

One Michael Cassio, a Florentine,

A fellow almost damned in a fair wife;

That never set a squadron in the field,

Nor the division of a battle knows

More than a spinster -unless the bookish theoric,

Wherein the (toged) consuls can propose

As masterly as he. Mere prattle, without practise,

Is all his soldiership. But he, sir, had th' election;

And I, of whom his eyes had seen the proof

At Rhodes, at Cyprus and on (other) grounds

Christian and heathen, must be be-lee'd and

Calmed

Ny debitor and creditor. This countercaster,

He, in good time, must his lieutenant be,

And I (God) bless the mark! his Moorship's ancient.

Roderigo

By heaven, I rather would have been his hangman.

Iago

Why, there's no remedy. 'Tis the curse of service,.

Preferment goes by letter and affection,

And not by old gradation, where each second

Stood heir to th' first. Now, sir, be judge yourself,

Whether I in any just term am affined

To love the Moor.

Roderigo

I would not follow him then.

Iago

O, sir, content you.

I follow him to serve my turn upon him:

We cannot all be masters, nor all masters

Cannot be truly followed. You shall mark

Many a duteous and knee-crooking knave,

That, doting on his own obsequious bondage,

Wears out his time, much like his master's ass,

For nought but provender, and when he's old,

Cashier'd.

Whip me such honest knaves! Others there are

Who, trimmed in forms and visages of duty,

Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves,

And, throwing but shows of service on their lords,

Do well thrive by them; and when they have lined

their coats

Do themselves homage. These fellows have some

soul.

And such a one do I profess myself. For, sir,

It is as sure as you are Roderigo,

Were I the Moor, I would not be Iago.

In following him, I follow but myself.

Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty,

But seeming so, for my peculiar end.

For when my outward action doth demonstrate

The native act and figure of my heart

In compliment extern, 'tis not long after

But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve

For daws to peck at. I am not what I am.

Roderigo

What a (full) fortune does the (thick-lips) owe

If he can carry't thus!

Iago

Call up her father.

Rouse him. Make after him, poison his delight,

Proclaim him in the streets; incense her kinsmen,

And, though he in a fertile climate dwell,

Plague him with flies. though that his joy be joy,

Yet throw such changes of vexation on't,

As it may lose some color.

Roderigo

Here is her father's house. I'll call aloud.

Iago

Do, with like timorous accent and dire yell

As when, by night and negligence, the fire

Is spied in populous cities.

Roderigo

What, ho, Brabantio! Signior Brabantio, ho!

Iago

Awake! what, ho, Brabantio! thieves! thieves! thieves!

Look to your house, your daughter and your bags!

Thieves! thieves!

[BRABANTIO appears above, at a window]

Brabantio

What is the reason of this terrible summons?

What is the matter there?

Roderigo

Signior, is all your family within?

Iago

Are your doors lock'd?

Brabantio

Why, wherefore ask you this?

Iago

'Zounds, sir, you're robb'd; for shame, put on

your gown;

Your heart is burst, you have lost half your soul;

Even now, now, very now, an old black ram

Is tupping your white ewe. Arise, arise;

Awake the snorting citizens with the bell,

Or else the devil will make a grandsire of you:

Arise, I say.

Brabantio

What, have you lost your wits?

Roderigo

Most reverend signior, do you know my voice?

Brabantio

Not I what are you?

Roderigo

My name is Roderigo.

Brabantio

The worser welcome:

I have charged thee not to haunt about my doors:

In honest plainness thou hast heard me say

My daughter is not for thee; and now, in madness,

Being full of supper and distempering draughts,

Upon malicious bravery, dost thou come

To start my quiet.

Roderigo

Sir, sir, sir,--

Brabantio

But thou must needs be sure

My spirit and my place have in them power

To make this bitter to thee.

Roderigo

Patience, good sir.

Brabantio

What tell'st thou me of robbing? this is Venice;

My house is not a grange.

Roderigo

Most grave Brabantio,

In simple and pure soul I come to you.

Iago

'Zounds, sir, you are one of those that will not

Serve God, if the devil bid you. Because we come to

Do you service and you think we are ruffians, you'll

Have your daughter covered with a Barbary horse;

You'll have your nephews neigh to you; you'll have

Coursers for cousins and gennets for germans.

Brabantio

What profane wretch art thou?

Iago

I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter

And the Moor are now making the beast with two backs.

Brabantio

Thou art a villain.

Iago

You are--a senator.

Brabantio

This thou shalt answer; I know thee, Roderigo.

Roderigo

Sir, I will answer any thing. But, I beseech you,

If't be your pleasure and most wise consent,

As partly I find it is, that your fair daughter,

At this odd-even and dull watch o' the night,

Transported, with no worse nor better guard

But with a knave of common hire, a gondolier,

To the gross clasps of a lascivious Moor--

If this be known to you and your allowance,

We then have done you bold and saucy wrongs;

But if you know not this, my manners tell me

We have your wrong rebuke. Do not believe

That, from the sense of all civility,

I thus would play and trifle with your reverence:

Your daughter, if you have not given her leave,

I say again, hath made a gross revolt;

Tying her duty, beauty, wit and fortunes

In an extravagant and wheeling stranger

Of here and every where. Straight satisfy yourself:

If she be in her chamber or your house,

Let loose on me the justice of the state

For thus deluding you.

Brabantio

Strike on the tinder, ho!

Give me a taper! call up all my people!

This accident is not unlike my dream:

Belief of it oppresses me already.

Light, I say! light!

Exit above

Iago

Farewell; for I must leave you:

It seems not meet, nor wholesome to my place,

To be produced--as, if I stay, I shall--

Against the Moor: for, I do know, the state,

However this may gall him with some cheque,

Cannot with safety cast him, for he's embark'd

With such loud reason to the Cyprus wars,

Which even now stand in act, that, for their souls,

Another of his fathom they have none,

To lead their business: in which regard,

Though I do hate him as I do hell-pains.

Yet, for necessity of present life,

I must show out a flag and sign of love,

Which is indeed but sign. That you shall surely find him,

Lead to the Sagittary the raised search;

And there will I be with him. So, farewell.

Exit

Enter, below, Brabantio, and Servants with torches

Brabantio

It is too true an evil: gone she is;

And what's to come of my despised time

Is nought but bitterness. Now, Roderigo,

Where didst thou see her? O unhappy girl!

With the Moor, say'st thou? Who would be a father!

How didst thou know 'twas she? O she deceives me

Past thought! What said she to you? Get more tapers:

Raise all my kindred. Are they married, think you?

Roderigo

Truly, I think they are.

Brabantio

O heaven! How got she out? O treason of the blood!

Fathers, from hence trust not your daughters' minds

By what you see them act. Is there not charms

By which the property of youth and maidhood

May be abused? Have you not read, Roderigo,

Of some such thing?

Roderigo

Yes, sir, I have indeed.

Brabantio

Call up my brother. O, would you had had her!

Some one way, some another. Do you know

Where we may apprehend her and the Moor?

Roderigo

I think I can discover him, if you please,

To get good guard and go along with me.

Brabantio

Pray you, lead on. At every house I'll call;

I may command at most. Get weapons, ho!

And raise some special officers of night.

On, good Roderigo: I'll deserve your pains.

Exeunt

ACT 1. SCENE II. Another street.

Enter OTHELLO, IAGO, and Attendants with torches

Iago

Though in the trade of war I have slain men,

Yet do I hold it very stuff o' the conscience

To do no contrived murder: I lack iniquity

Sometimes to do me service: nine or ten times

I had thought to have yerk'd him here under the ribs.

Othello

'Tis better as it is.

Iago

Nay, but he prated,

And spoke such scurvy and provoking terms

Against your honour

That, with the little godliness I have,

I did full hard forbear him. But, I pray you, sir,

Are you fast married? Be assured of this,

That the magnifico is much beloved,

And hath in his effect a voice potential

As double as the duke's: he will divorce you;

Or put upon you what restraint and grievance

The law, with all his might to enforce it on,

Will give him cable.

Othello

Let him do his spite:

My services which I have done the signiory

Shall out-tongue his complaints. 'Tis yet to know,--

Which, when I know that boasting is an honour,

I shall promulgate--I fetch my life and being

From men of royal siege, and my demerits

May speak unbonneted to as proud a fortune

As this that I have reach'd: for know, Iago,

But that I love the gentle Desdemona,

I would not my unhoused free condition

Put into circumscription and confine

For the sea's worth. But, look! what lights come yond?

Iago

Those are the raised father and his friends:

You were best go in.

Othello

Not I I must be found:

My parts, my title and my perfect soul

Shall manifest me rightly. Is it they?

Iago

By Janus, I think no.

Enter CASSIO, and certain Officers with torches

Othello

The servants of the duke, and my lieutenant.

The goodness of the night upon you, friends!

What is the news?

Cassio

The duke does greet you, general,

And he requires your haste-post-haste appearance,

Even on the instant.

Othello

What is the matter, think you?

Cassio

Something from Cyprus as I may divine:

It is a business of some heat: the galleys

Have sent a dozen sequent messengers

This very night at one another's heels,

And many of the consuls, raised and met,

Are at the duke's already: you have been

hotly call'd for;

When, being not at your lodging to be found,

The senate hath sent about three several guests

To search you out.

Othello

'Tis well I am found by you.

I will but spend a word here in the house,

And go with you.

Exit

Cassio

Ancient, what makes he here?

Iago

'Faith, he to-night hath boarded a land carack:

If it prove lawful prize, he's made for ever.

Cassio

I do not understand.

Iago

He's married.

Cassio

To who?

Re-enter OTHELLO

Iago

Marry, to--Come, captain, will you go?

Othello

Have with you.

Cassio

Here comes another troop to seek for you.

Iago

It is Brabantio. General, be advised;

He comes to bad intent.

Enter BRABANTIO, RODERIGO, and Officers with torches and weapons

Othello

Holla! stand there!

Roderigo

Signior, it is the Moor.

Brabantio

Down with him, thief!

They draw on both sides

Iago

You, Roderigo! come, sir, I am for you.

Othello

Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust them.

Good signior, you shall more command with years

Than with your weapons.

Brabantio

O thou foul thief, where hast thou stow'd my daughter?

Damn'd as thou art, thou hast enchanted her;

For I'll refer me to all things of sense,

If she in chains of magic were not bound,

Whether a maid so tender, fair and happy,

So opposite to marriage that she shunned

The wealthy curled darlings of our nation,

Would ever have, to incur a general mock,

Run from her guardage to the sooty bosom

Of such a thing as thou, to fear, not to delight.

Judge me the world, if 'tis not gross in sense

That thou hast practised on her with foul charms,

Abused her delicate youth with drugs or minerals

That weaken motion: I'll have't disputed on;

'Tis probable and palpable to thinking.

I therefore apprehend and do attach thee

For an abuser of the world, a practiser

Of arts inhibited and out of warrant.

Lay hold upon him: if he do resist,

Subdue him at his peril.

Othello

Hold your hands,

Both you of my inclining, and the rest:

Were it my cue to fight, I should have known it

Without a prompter. Where will you that I go

To answer this your charge?

Brabantio

To prison, till fit time

Of law and course of direct session

Call thee to answer.

Othello

What if I do obey?

How may the duke be therewith satisfied,

Whose messengers are here about my side,

Upon some present business of the state

To bring me to him?

First officer

'Tis true, most worthy signior;

The duke's in council and your noble self,

I am sure, is sent for.

Brabantio

How! the duke in council!

In this time of the night! Bring him away:

Mine's not an idle cause: the duke himself,

Or any of my brothers of the state,

Cannot but feel this wrong as 'twere their own;

For if such actions may have passage free,

Bond-slaves and pagans shall our statesmen be.

Exeunt

ACT 1. SCENE III. A council-chamber.

The DUKE and Senators sitting at a table; Officers attending

Duke of Venice

There is no composition in these news

That gives them credit.

First senator

Indeed, they are disproportion'd;

My letters say a hundred and seven galleys.

Duke of Venice

And mine, a hundred and forty.

Second senator

And mine, two hundred:

But though they jump not on a just account,--

As in these cases, where the aim reports,

'Tis oft with difference--yet do they all confirm

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 2

ACT 2. 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

ACT 2. 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

ACT 2. 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 3

ACT 3. 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

ACT 3. 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

ACT 3. 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

No, not to-night.

Desdemona

To-morrow dinner, then?

Othello

I shall not dine at home;

I meet the captains at the citadel.

Desdemona

Why, then, to-morrow night; or Tuesday morn;

On Tuesday noon, or night; on Wednesday morn:

I prithee, name the time, but let it not

Exceed three days: in faith, he's penitent;

And yet his trespass, in our common reason--

Save that, they say, the wars must make examples

Out of their best--is not almost a fault

To incur a private cheque. When shall he come?

Tell me, Othello: I wonder in my soul,

What you would ask me, that I should deny,

Or stand so mammering on. What! Michael Cassio,

That came a-wooing with you, and so many a time,

When I have spoke of you dispraisingly,

Hath ta'en your part; to have so much to do

To bring him in! Trust me, I could do much,--

Othello

Prithee, no more: let him come when he will;

I will deny thee nothing.

Desdemona

Why, this is not a boon;

'Tis as I should entreat you wear your gloves,

Or feed on nourishing dishes, or keep you warm,

Or sue to you to do a peculiar profit

To your own person: nay, when I have a suit

Wherein I mean to touch your love indeed,

It shall be full of poise and difficult weight

And fearful to be granted.

Othello

I will deny thee nothing:

Whereon, I do beseech thee, grant me this,

To leave me but a little to myself.

Desdemona

Shall I deny you? no: farewell, my lord.

Othello

Farewell, my Desdemona: I'll come to thee straight.

Desdemona

Emilia, come. Be as your fancies teach you;

Whate'er you be, I am obedient.

Exeunt DESDEMONA and EMILIA

Othello

Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul,

But I do love thee! and when I love thee not,

Chaos is come again.

Iago

My noble lord--

Othello

What dost thou say, Iago?

Iago

Did Michael Cassio, when you woo'd my lady,

Know of your love?

Othello

He did, from first to last: why dost thou ask?

Iago

But for a satisfaction of my thought;

No further harm.

Othello

Why of thy thought, Iago?

Iago

I did not think he had been acquainted with her.

Othello

O, yes; and went between us very oft.

Iago

Indeed!

Othello

Indeed! ay, indeed: discern'st thou aught in that?

Is he not honest?

Iago

Honest, my lord!

Othello

Honest! ay, honest.

Iago

My lord, for aught I know.

Othello

What dost thou think?

Iago

Think, my lord!

Othello

Think, my lord!

By heaven, he echoes me,

As if there were some monster in his thought

Too hideous to be shown. Thou dost mean something:

I heard thee say even now, thou likedst not that,

When Cassio left my wife: what didst not like?

And when I told thee he was of my counsel

In my whole course of wooing, thou criedst 'Indeed!'

And didst contract and purse thy brow together,

As if thou then hadst shut up in thy brain

Some horrible conceit: if thou dost love me,

Show me thy thought.

Iago

My lord, you know I love you.

Othello

I think thou dost;

And, for I know thou'rt full of love and honesty,

And weigh'st thy words before thou givest them breath,

Therefore these stops of thine fright me the more:

For such things in a false disloyal knave

Are tricks of custom, but in a man that's just

They are close delations, working from the heart

That passion cannot rule.

Iago

For Michael Cassio,

I dare be sworn I think that he is honest.

Othello

I think so too.

Iago

Men should be what they seem;

Or those that be not, would they might seem none!

Othello

Certain, men should be what they seem.

Iago

Why, then, I think Cassio's an honest man.

Othello

Nay, yet there's more in this:

I prithee, speak to me as to thy thinkings,

As thou dost ruminate, and give thy worst of thoughts

The worst of words.

Iago

Good my lord, pardon me:

Though I am bound to every act of duty,

I am not bound to that all slaves are free to.

Utter my thoughts? Why, say they are vile and false;

As where's that palace whereinto foul things

Sometimes intrude not? who has a breast so pure,

But some uncleanly apprehensions

Keep leets and law-days and in session sit

With meditations lawful?

Othello

Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago,

If thou but think'st him wrong'd and makest his ear

A stranger to thy thoughts.

Iago

I do beseech you--

Though I perchance am vicious in my guess,

As, I confess, it is my nature's plague

To spy into abuses, and oft my jealousy

Shapes faults that are not--that your wisdom yet,

From one that so imperfectly conceits,

Would take no notice, nor build yourself a trouble

Out of his scattering and unsure observance.

It were not for your quiet nor your good,

Nor for my manhood, honesty, or wisdom,

To let you know my thoughts.

Othello

What dost thou mean?

Iago

Good name in man and woman, dear my lord,

Is the immediate jewel of their souls:

Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing;

'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands:

But he that filches from me my good name

Robs me of that which not enriches him

And makes me poor indeed.

Othello

By heaven, I'll know thy thoughts.

Iago

You cannot, if my heart were in your hand;

Nor shall not, whilst 'tis in my custody.

Othello

Ha!

Iago

O, beware, my lord, of jealousy;

It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock

The meat it feeds on; that cuckold lives in bliss

Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger;

But, O, what damned minutes tells he o'er

Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves!

Othello

O misery!

Iago

Poor and content is rich and rich enough,

But riches fineless is as poor as winter

To him that ever fears he shall be poor.

Good heaven, the souls of all my tribe defend

From jealousy!

Othello

Why, why is this?

Think'st thou I'ld make a lie of jealousy,

To follow still the changes of the moon

With fresh suspicions? No; to be once in doubt

Is once to be resolved: exchange me for a goat,

When I shall turn the business of my soul

To such exsufflicate and blown surmises,

Matching thy inference. 'Tis not to make me jealous

To say my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company,

Is free of speech, sings, plays and dances well;

Where virtue is, these are more virtuous:

Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw

The smallest fear or doubt of her revolt;

For she had eyes, and chose me. No, Iago;

I'll see before I doubt; when I doubt, prove;

And on the proof, there is no more but this,--

Away at once with love or jealousy!

Iago

I am glad of it; for now I shall have reason

To show the love and duty that I bear you

With franker spirit: therefore, as I am bound,

Receive it from me. I speak not yet of proof.

Look to your wife; observe her well with Cassio;

Wear your eye thus, not jealous nor secure:

I would not have your free and noble nature,

Out of self-bounty, be abused; look to't:

I know our country disposition well;

In Venice they do let heaven see the pranks

They dare not show their husbands; their best conscience

Is not to leave't undone, but keep't unknown.

Othello

Dost thou say so?

Iago

She did deceive her father, marrying you;

And when she seem'd to shake and fear your looks,

She loved them most.

Othello

And so she did.

Iago

Why, go to then;

She that, so young, could give out such a seeming,

To seal her father's eyes up close as oak-

He thought 'twas witchcraft--but I am much to blame;

I humbly do beseech you of your pardon

For too much loving you.

Othello

I am bound to thee for ever.

Iago

I see this hath a little dash'd your spirits.

Othello

Not a jot, not a jot.

Iago

I' faith, I fear it has.

I hope you will consider what is spoke

Comes from my love. But I do see you're moved:

I am to pray you not to strain my speech

To grosser issues nor to larger reach

Than to suspicion.

Othello

I will not.

Iago

Should you do so, my lord,

My speech should fall into such vile success

As my thoughts aim not at. Cassio's my worthy friend--

My lord, I see you're moved.

Othello

No, not much moved:

I do not think but Desdemona's honest.

Iago

Long live she so! and long live you to think so!

Othello

And yet, how nature erring from itself,--

Iago

Ay, there's the point: as--to be bold with you--

Not to affect many proposed matches

Of her own clime, complexion, and degree,

Whereto we see in all things nature tends--

Foh! one may smell in such a will most rank,

Foul disproportion thoughts unnatural.

But pardon me; I do not in position

Distinctly speak of her; though I may fear

Her will, recoiling to her better judgment,

May fall to match you with her country forms

And happily repent.

Othello

Farewell, farewell:

If more thou dost perceive, let me know more;

Set on thy wife to observe: leave me, Iago:

Iago

Going My lord, I take my leave.

Othello

Why did I marry? This honest creature doubtless

Sees and knows more, much more, than he unfolds.

Iago

Returning My lord, I would I might entreat

your honour

To scan this thing no further; leave it to time:

Though it be fit that Cassio have his place,

For sure, he fills it up with great ability,

Yet, if you please to hold him off awhile,

You shall by that perceive him and his means:

Note, if your lady strain his entertainment

With any strong or vehement importunity;

Much will be seen in that. In the mean time,

Let me be thought too busy in my fears--

As worthy cause I have to fear I am--

And hold her free, I do beseech your honour.

Othello

Fear not my government.

Iago

I once more take my leave.

Exit

Othello

This fellow's of exceeding honesty,

And knows all qualities, with a learned spirit,

Of human dealings. If I do prove her haggard,

Though that her jesses were my dear heartstrings,

I'ld whistle her off and let her down the wind,

To pray at fortune. Haply, for I am black

And have not those soft parts of conversation

That chamberers have, or for I am declined

Into the vale of years,--yet that's not much--

She's gone. I am abused; and my relief

Must be to loathe her. O curse of marriage,

That we can call these delicate creatures ours,

And not their appetites! I had rather be a toad,

And live upon the vapour of a dungeon,

Than keep a corner in the thing I love

For others' uses. Yet, 'tis the plague of great ones;

Prerogatived are they less than the base;

'Tis destiny unshunnable, like death:

Even then this forked plague is fated to us

When we do quicken. Desdemona comes:

Re-enter DESDEMONA and EMILIA

If she be false, O, then heaven mocks itself!

I'll not believe't.

Desdemona

How now, my dear Othello!

Your dinner, and the generous islanders

By you invited, do attend your presence.

Othello

I am to blame.

Desdemona

Why do you speak so faintly?

Are you not well?

Othello

I have a pain upon my forehead here.

Desdemona

'Faith, that's with watching; 'twill away again:

Let me but bind it hard, within this hour

It will be well.

Othello

Your napkin is too little:

He puts the handkerchief from him; and it drops

Let it alone. Come, I'll go in with you.

Desdemona

I am very sorry that you are not well.

Exeunt OTHELLO and DESDEMONA

Emilia

I am glad I have found this napkin:

This was her first remembrance from the Moor:

My wayward husband hath a hundred times

Woo'd me to steal it; but she so loves the token,

For he conjured her she should ever keep it,

That she reserves it evermore about her

To kiss and talk to. I'll have the work ta'en out,

And give't Iago: what he will do with it

Heaven knows, not I;

I nothing but to please his fantasy.

Re-enter Iago

Iago

How now! what do you here alone?

Emilia

Do not you chide; I have a thing for you.

Iago

A thing for me? it is a common thing--

Emilia

Ha!

Iago

To have a foolish wife.

Emilia

O, is that all? What will you give me now

For the same handkerchief?

Iago

What handkerchief?

Emilia

What handkerchief?

Why, that the Moor first gave to Desdemona;

That which so often you did bid me steal.

Iago

Hast stol'n it from her?

Emilia

No, 'faith; she let it drop by negligence.

And, to the advantage, I, being here, took't up.

Look, here it is.

Iago

A good wench; give it me.

Emilia

What will you do with 't, that you have been

so earnest

To have me filch it?

Iago

Snatching it Why, what's that to you?

Emilia

If it be not for some purpose of import,

Give't me again: poor lady, she'll run mad

When she shall lack it.

Iago

Be not acknown on 't; I have use for it.

Go, leave me.

Exit EMILIA

I will in Cassio's lodging lose this napkin,

And let him find it. Trifles light as air

Are to the jealous confirmations strong

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!

Re-enter OTHELLO

Not poppy, nor mandragora,

Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world,

Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep

Which thou owedst yesterday.

Othello

Ha! ha! false to me?

Iago

Why, how now, general! no more of that.

Othello

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.

Iago

How now, my lord!

Othello

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 hi