Othello
Excellent good.
A trumpet within
What trumpet is that same?
Iago
Something from Venice, sure. ’Tis Lodovico
Come from the duke: and, see, your wife is with him.
Enter Lodovico, Desdemona, and Attendants
Lodovico
Save you, worthy general!
Othello
With all my heart, sir.
Lodovico
The duke and senators of Venice greet you.
Gives him a letter
Othello
I kiss the instrument of their pleasures.
Opens the letter, and reads
Desdemona
And what’s the news, good cousin Lodovico?
Iago
I am very glad to see you, signior
Welcome to Cyprus.
Lodovico
I thank you. How does Lieutenant Cassio?
Iago
Lives, sir.
Desdemona
Cousin, there’s fall’n between him and my lord
An unkind breach: but you shall make all well.
Othello
Are you sure of that?
Desdemona
My lord?
Othello
[Reads] ‘This fail you not to do, as you will —’
Lodovico
He did not call; he’s busy in the paper.
Is there division ’twixt my lord and Cassio?
Desdemona
A most unhappy one: I would do much
To atone them, for the love I bear to Cassio.
Othello
Fire and brimstone!
Desdemona
My lord?
Othello
Are you wise?
Desdemona
What, is he angry?
Lodovico
May be the letter moved him;
For, as I think, they do command him home,
Deputing Cassio in his government.
Desdemona
Trust me, I am glad on’t.
Othello
Indeed!
Desdemona
My lord?
Othello
I am glad to see you mad.
Desdemona
Why, sweet Othello,—
Othello
[Striking her] Devil!
Desdemona
I have not deserved this.
Lodovico
My lord, this would not be believed in Venice,
Though I should swear I saw’t: ’tis very much:
Make her amends; she weeps.
Othello
O devil, devil!
If that the earth could teem with woman’s tears,
Each drop she falls would prove a crocodile.
Out of my sight!
Desdemona
I will not stay to offend you.
Going
Lodovico
Truly, an obedient lady:
I do beseech your lordship, call her back.
Othello
Mistress!
Desdemona
My lord?
Othello
What would you with her, sir?
Lodovico
Who, I, my lord?
Othello
Ay; you did wish that I would make her turn:
Sir, she can turn, and turn, and yet go on,
And turn again; and she can weep, sir, weep;
And she’s obedient, as you say, obedient,
Very obedient. Proceed you in your tears.
Concerning this, sir,— O well-painted passion!—
I am commanded home. Get you away;
I’ll send for you anon. Sir, I obey the mandate,
And will return to Venice. Hence, avaunt!
Exit Desdemona
Cassio shall have my place. And, sir, tonight,
I do entreat that we may sup together:
You are welcome, sir, to Cyprus.— Goats and monkeys!
Exit
Lodovico
Is this the noble Moor whom our full senate
Call all in all sufficient? Is this the nature
Whom passion could not shake? whose solid virtue
The shot of accident, nor dart of chance,
Could neither graze nor pierce?
Iago
He is much changed.
Lodovico
Are his wits safe? is he not light of brain?
Iago
He’s that he is: I may not breathe my censure
What he might be: if what he might he is not,
I would to heaven he were!
Lodovico
What, strike his wife!
Iago
’Faith, that was not so well; yet would I knew
That stroke would prove the worst!
Lodovico
Is it his use?
Or did the letters work upon his blood,
And new-create this fault?
Iago
Alas, alas!
It is not honesty in me to speak
What I have seen and known. You shall observe him,
And his own courses will denote him so
That I may save my speech: do but go after,
And mark how he continues.
Lodovico
I am sorry that I am deceived in him.
Exeunt
SCENE II. A ROOM IN THE CASTLE.
Enter Othello and Emilia
Othello
You have seen nothing then?
Emilia
Nor ever heard, nor ever did suspect.
Othello
Yes, you have seen Cassio and she together.
Emilia
But then I saw no harm, and then I heard
Each syllable that breath made up between them.
Othello
What, did they never whisper?
Emilia
Never, my lord.
Othello
Nor send you out o’ the way?
Emilia
Never.
Othello
To fetch her fan, her gloves, her mask, nor nothing?
Emilia
Never, my lord.
Othello
That’s strange.
Emilia
I durst, my lord, to wager she is honest,
Lay down my soul at stake: if you think other,
Remove your thought; it doth abuse your bosom.
If any wretch have put this in your head,
Let heaven requite it with the serpent’s curse!
For, if she be not honest, chaste, and true,
There’s no man happy; the purest of their wives
Is foul as slander.
Othello
Bid her come hither: go.
Exit Emilia
She says enough; yet she’s a simple bawd
That cannot say as much. This is a subtle whore,
A closet lock and key of villanous secrets
And yet she’ll kneel and pray; I have seen her do’t.
Enter Desdemona with Emilia
Desdemona
My lord, what is your will?
Othello
Pray, chuck, come hither.
Desdemona
What is your pleasure?
Othello
Let me see your eyes;
Look in my face.
Desdemona
What horrible fancy’s this?
Othello
[To Emilia] Some of your function, mistress;
Leave procreants alone and shut the door;
Cough, or cry ‘hem,’ if any body come:
Your mystery, your mystery: nay, dispatch.
Exit Emilia
Desdemona
Upon my knees, what doth your speech import?
I understand a fury in your words.
But not the words.
Othello
Why, what art thou?
Desdemona
Your wife, my lord; your true
And loyal wife.
Othello
Come, swear it, damn thyself
Lest, being like one of heaven, the devils themselves
Should fear to seize thee: therefore be double damn’d:
Swear thou art honest.
Desdemona
Heaven doth truly know it.
Othello
Heaven truly knows that thou art false as hell.
Desdemona
To whom, my lord? with whom? how am I false?
Othello
O Desdemona! away! away! away!
Desdemona
Alas the heavy day! Why do you weep?
Am I the motive of these tears, my lord?
If haply you my father do suspect
An instrument of this your calling back,
Lay not your blame on me: If you have lost him,
Why, I have lost him too.
Othello
To try me with affliction; had they rain’d
All kinds of sores and shames on my bare head.
Steep’d me in poverty to the very lips,
Given to captivity me and my utmost hopes,
I should have found in some place of my soul
A drop of patience: but, alas, to make me
A fixed figure for the time of scorn
To point his slow unmoving finger at!
Yet could I bear that too; well, very well:
But there, where I have garner’d up my heart,
Where either I must live, or bear no life;
The fountain from the which my current runs,
Or else dries up; to be discarded thence!
Or keep it as a cistern for foul toads
To knot and gender in! Turn thy complexion there,
Patience, thou young and rose-lipp’d cherubin,—
Ay, there, look grim as hell!
Desdemona
I hope my noble lord esteems me honest.
Othello
O, ay; as summer flies are in the shambles,
That quicken even with blowing. O thou weed,
Who art so lovely fair and smell’st so sweet
That the sense aches at thee, would thou hadst ne’er been born!
Desdemona
Alas, what ignorant sin have I committed?
Othello
Was this fair paper, this most goodly book,
Made to write ‘whore’ upon? What committed!
Committed! O thou public commoner!
I should make very forges of my cheeks,
That would to cinders burn up modesty,
Did I but speak thy deeds. What committed!
Heaven stops the nose at it and the moon winks,
The bawdy wind that kisses all it meets
Is hush’d within the hollow mine of earth,
And will not hear it. What committed!
Impudent strumpet!
Desdemona
By heaven, you do me wrong.
Othello
Are you not a strumpet?
Desdemona
No, as I am a Christian:
If to preserve this vessel for my lord
From any other foul unlawful touch
Be not to be a strumpet, I am none.
Othello
What, not a whore?
Desdemona
No, as I shall be saved.
Othello
Is’t possible?
Desdemona
O, heaven forgive us!
Othello
I cry you mercy, then:
I took you for that cunning whore of Venice
That married with Othello.
Raising his voice
You, mistress,
That have the office opposite to Saint Peter,
And keep the gate of hell!
Re-enter Emilia
You, you, ay, you!
We have done our course; there’s money for your pains:
I pray you, turn the key and keep our counsel.
Exit
Emilia
Alas, what does this gentleman conceive?
How do you, madam? how do you, my good lady?
Desdemona
’Faith, half asleep.
Emilia
Good madam, what’s the matter with my lord?
Desdemona
With who?
Emilia
Why, with my lord, madam.
Desdemona
Who is thy lord?
Emilia
He that is yours, sweet lady.
Desdemona
I have none: do not talk to me, Emilia;
I cannot weep; nor answer have I none,
But what should go by water. Prithee, tonight
Lay on my bed my wedding sheets: remember;
And call thy husband hither.
Emilia
Here’s a change indeed!
Exit
Desdemona
’Tis meet I should be used so, very meet.
How have I been behaved, that he might stick
The small’st opinion on my least misuse?
Re-enter Emilia with Iago
Iago
What is your pleasure, madam?
How is’t with you?
Desdemona
I cannot tell. Those that do teach young babes
Do it with gentle means and easy tasks:
He might have chid me so; for, in good faith,
I am a child to chiding.
Iago
What’s the matter, lady?
Emilia
Alas, Iago, my lord hath so bewhored her.
Thrown such despite and heavy terms upon her,
As true hearts cannot bear.
Desdemona
Am I that name, Iago?
What name, fair lady?
Desdemona
Such as she says my lord did say I was.
Emilia
He call’d her whore: a beggar in his drink
Could not have laid such terms upon his callat.
Iago
Why did he so?
Desdemona
I do not know; I am sure I am none such.
Iago
Do not weep, do not weep. Alas the day!
Emilia
Hath she forsook so many noble matches,
Her father and her country and her friends,
To be call’d whore? would it not make one weep?
Desdemona
It is my wretched fortune.
Iago
Beshrew him for’t!
How comes this trick upon him?
Desdemona
Nay, heaven doth know.
Emilia
I will be hang’d, if some eternal villain,
Some busy and insinuating rogue,
Some cogging, cozening slave, to get some office,
Have not devised this slander; I’ll be hang’d else.
Iago
Fie, there is no such man; it is impossible.
Desdemona
If any such there be, heaven pardon him!
Emilia
A halter pardon him! and hell gnaw his bones!
Why should he call her whore? who keeps her company?
What place? what time? what form? what likelihood?
The Moor’s abused by some most villanous knave,
Some base notorious knave, some scurvy fellow.
O heaven, that such companions thou’ldst unfold,
And put in every honest hand a whip
To lash the rascals naked through the world
Even from the east to the west!
Iago
Speak within door.
Emilia
O, fie upon them! Some such squire he was
That turn’d your wit the seamy side without,
And made you to suspect me with the Moor.
Iago
You are a fool; go to.
Desdemona
O good
Iago,
What shall I do to win my lord again?
Good friend, go to him; for, by this light of heaven,
I know not how I lost him. Here I kneel:
If e’er my will did trespass ’gainst his love,
Either in discourse of thought or actual deed,
Or that mine eyes, mine ears, or any sense,
Delighted them in any other form;
Or that I do not yet, and ever did.
And ever will — though he do shake me off
To beggarly divorcement — love him dearly,
Comfort forswear me! Unkindness may do much;
And his unkindness may defeat my life,
But never taint my love. I cannot say ‘whore:’
It does abhor me now I speak the word;
To do the act that might the addition earn
Not the world’s mass of vanity could make me.
Iago
I pray you, be content; ’tis but his humour:
The business of the state does him offence,
And he does chide with you.
Desdemona
If ’twere no other —
Iago
’Tis but so, I warrant.
Trumpets within
Hark, how these instruments summon to supper!
The messengers of Venice stay the meat;
Go in, and weep not; all things shall be well.
Exeunt Desdemona and Emilia
Enter Roderigo
How now, Roderigo!
Roderigo
I do not find that thou dealest justly with me.
Iago
What in the contrary?
Roderigo
Every day thou daffest me with some device, Iago; and rather, as it seems to me now, keepest from me all conveniency than suppliest me with the least advantage of hope. I will indeed no longer endure it, nor am I yet persuaded to put up in peace what already I have foolishly suffered.
Iago
Will you hear me, Roderigo?
Roderigo
’Faith, I have heard too much, for your words and performances are no kin together.
Iago
You charge me most unjustly.
Roderigo
With nought but truth. I have wasted myself out of my means. The jewels you have had from me to deliver to Desdemona would half have corrupted a votarist: you have told me she hath received them and returned me expectations and comforts of sudden respect and acquaintance, but I find none.
Iago
Well; go to; very well.
Roderigo
Very well! go to! I cannot go to, man; nor ’tis not very well: nay, I think it is scurvy, and begin to find myself fobbed in it.
Iago
Very well.
Roderigo
I tell you ’tis not very well. I will make myself known to Desdemona: if she will return me my jewels, I will give over my suit and repent my unlawful solicitation; if not, assure yourself I will seek satisfaction of you.
Iago
You have said now.
Roderigo
Ay, and said nothing but what I protest intendment of doing.
Iago
Why, now I see there’s mettle in thee, and even from this instant to build on thee a better opinion than ever before. Give me thy hand, Roderigo: thou hast taken against me a most just exception; but yet, I protest, I have dealt most directly in thy affair.