The arden shakespeare co.., p.424
The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works, page 424
some minx’s token, and I must take out the work?
There, give it your hobby-horse; wheresoever you had
it, I’ll take out no work on’t!
CASSIO How now, my sweet Bianca, how now, how now?
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OTHELLO By heaven, that should be my handkerchief!
BIANCA If you’ll come to supper tonight, you may; if
you will not, come when you are next prepared for.
Exit.
IAGO After her, after her!
CASSIO Faith, I must, she’ll rail in the streets else.
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IAGO Will you sup there?
CASSIO Faith, I intend so.
IAGO Well, I may chance to see you, for I would very
fain speak with you.
CASSIO Prithee come, will you?
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IAGO Go to, say no more. Exit Cassio.
OTHELLO How shall I murder him, Iago?
IAGO Did you perceive how he laughed at his vice?
OTHELLO O Iago!
IAGO And did you see the handkerchief?
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OTHELLO Was that mine?
IAGO Yours, by this hand: and to see how he prizes the
foolish woman your wife! She gave it him, and he hath
given it his whore.
OTHELLO I would have him nine years a-killing. A fine
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woman, a fair woman, a sweet woman!
IAGO Nay, you must forget that.
OTHELLO Ay, let her rot and perish and be damned
tonight, for she shall not live. No, my heart is turned
to stone: I strike it, and it hurts my hand. O, the world
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hath not a sweeter creature: she might lie by an
emperor’s side and command him tasks.
IAGO Nay, that’s not your way.
OTHELLO Hang her, I do but say what she is: so delicate
with her needle, an admirable musician. O, she will
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sing the savageness out of a bear! of so high and
plenteous wit and invention!
IAGO She’s the worse for all this.
OTHELLO O, a thousand, a thousand times: and then of
so gentle a condition.
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IAGO Ay, too gentle.
OTHELLO Nay, that’s certain. But yet the pity of it, Iago
– O, Iago, the pity of it, Iago!
IAGO If you are so fond over her iniquity, give her
patent to offend, for if it touch not you it comes near
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nobody.
OTHELLO I will chop her into messes! Cuckold me!
IAGO O, ’tis foul in her.
OTHELLO With mine officer!
IAGO That’s fouler.
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OTHELLO Get me some poison, Iago, this night. I’ll not
expostulate with her, lest her body and beauty
unprovide my mind again. This night, Iago.
IAGO Do it not with poison, strangle her in her bed –
even the bed she hath contaminated.
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OTHELLO Good, good, the justice of it pleases; very
good!
IAGO And for Cassio, let me be his undertaker. You shall
hear more by midnight.
OTHELLO Excellent good. [A trumpet within.] What
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trumpet is that same?
IAGO I warrant something from Venice.
Enter LODOVICO, DESDEMONA and attendants.
’Tis Lodovico, this, comes from the duke.
See, your wife’s with him.
LODOVICO God save you, worthy general.
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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.
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Welcome to Cyprus.
LODOVICO I thank you. How does Lieutenant Cassio?
IAGO Lives, sir.
DESDEMONA
Cousin, there’s fallen between him and my lord
An unkind breach, but you shall make all well –
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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?
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DESDEMONA A most unhappy one: I would do much
T’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 Maybe the letter moved him.
For, as I think, they do command him home,
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Deputing Cassio in his government.
DESDEMONA By my troth, I am glad on’t.
OTHELLO Indeed!
DESDEMONA My lord?
OTHELLO I am glad … to see you mad.
DESDEMONA Why, sweet Othello?
OTHELLO Devil! [striking her]
DESDEMONA I have not deserved this.
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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:
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Out of my sight!
DESDEMONA I will not stay to offend you.
LODOVICO Truly, an obedient lady.
I do beseech your lordship, call her back.
OTHELLO Mistress!
DESDEMONA My lord?
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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,
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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! –
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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? This the nature
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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
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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
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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
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And mark how he continues.
LODOVICO
I am sorry that I am deceived in him. Exeunt.
4.2 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.
5
OTHELLO What, did they never whisper?
EMILIA Never, my lord.
OTHELLO Nor send you out o’th’ way?
EMILIA Never.
OTHELLO
To fetch her fan, her gloves, her mask, nor nothing?
EMILIA Never, my lord.
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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
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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
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That cannot say as much. This is a subtle whore,
A closet, lock and key, of villainous secrets;
And yet she’ll kneel and pray, I have seen her do’t.
Enter DESDEMONA and EMILIA.
DESDEMONA My lord, what is your will?
OTHELLO Pray, chuck, come hither.
DESDEMONA What is your pleasure?
OTHELLO Let me see your eyes.
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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 anybody come.
Your mystery, your mystery: nay, dispatch!
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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.
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OTHELLO Come, swear it, damn thyself,
Lest, being like one of heaven, the devils themselves
Should fear to seize thee: therefore be double-damned,
Swear thou art honest!
DESDEMONA Heaven doth truly know it.
OTHELLO
Heaven truly knows that thou art false as hell.
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DESDEMONA
To whom, my lord? with whom? how am I false?
OTHELLO Ah, Desdemon, 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
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An instrument of this your calling back,
Lay not your blame on me: if you have lost him
Why, I have lost him too.
OTHELLO Had it pleased heaven
To try me with affliction, had they rained
All kinds of sores and shames on my bare head,
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Steeped 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
The fixed figure for the time of scorn
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To point his slow and moving finger at!
Yet could I bear that too, well, very well:
But there where I have garnered up my heart,
Where either I must live or bear no life,
The fountain from the which my current runs
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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,
