OTHELLO

by Shakespeare · Cluster: Blood · Verse Drama · Revenge

Abstract

A domestic tragedy in which the Moorish general Othello is poisoned by Iago’s deception into murderous jealousy of his innocent wife Desdemona; central themes of jealousy, deception, the outsider, and appearance versus reality.

Capitoli / Chapters

• Act I, Scene 1
• Act I, Scene 2
• Act I, Scene 3
• Act II, Scene 1
• Act II, Scene 2
• Act II, Scene 3
• Act III, Scene 1
• Act III, Scene 2
• Act III, Scene 3
• Act III, Scene 4
• Act IV, Scene 1
• Act IV, Scene 2
• Act IV, Scene 3
• Act V, Scene 1
• Act V, Scene 2

Connections

Topoi: Combat Strife Archetypes: Villain, Outsider, Tragic Hero, Innocent, Shadow Motifs: Blood, Death, Eyes and Sight, Light and Dark, Clothing and Costume, Animals Themes & Concepts: Jealousy, Deception, Appearance vs Reality, Alienation, Romantic Love, Marriage and Fidelity, Revenge, Good vs Evil, Pride, Guilt, Mortality Forms & Genres: Tragedy, Verse Drama, Blank Verse Historical References: Orient Arabia Settings: Venice, Court, Europe Characters: Othello, Iago, Desdemona, Cassio, Emilia, Roderigo, Brabantio, Bianca

Testo integrale / Full text

OTHELLO Othello was given before James I in the Banqueting House at Whitehall on I November 1604. Information about the Turkish invasion of Cyprus appears to derive from Richard Knolles’s History of the Turks, published no earlier than 30 September 1603, so Shakespeare probably completed his play some time between that date and the summer of 1604. It first appeared in print in a quarto of 1622; the version printed in the 1623 Folio is about 160 lines longer, and has over a thousand differences in wording. It seems that Shakespeare partially revised his play, adding, for example, Desdemona’s willow song (4.3) and building up Emilia’s role in the closing scenes. We base our text on the Folio as that seems to represent Shakespeare’s second thoughts. Shakespeare’s decision to make a black man a tragic hero was bold and original: by an ancient tradition, blackness was associated with sin and death; and blackamoors in plays before Shakespeare are generally villainous (as is Aaron in Titus Andronicus). The story of a Moorish commander deluded by his ensign (standard-bearer) into believing that his young wife has been unfaithful to him with another soldier derives from a prose tale by the Italian Giambattista Cinzio Giraldi first published in 1565 in a collection of linked tales, Gli Ecatommiti (The Hundred Tales). Shakespeare must have read it either in Italian or in a French translation of 1584, he may have looked at both. Giraldi tells the tale in a few pages of compressed, matter-of-fact narrative interspersed with brief conversations. His main characters are a Moor of Venice (Othello), his Venetian wife (Desdemona), his ensign (Iago), his ensign’s wife (Emilia), and a corporal (Cassio) ‘who was very dear to the Moor’. Only Desdemona is named. Shakespeare’s invented characters include Roderigo, a young, disappointed suitor of Desdemona, and Brabanzio, Desdemona’s father, who opposes her marriage to Othello. Bianca, Cassio’s mistress, is developed from a few hints in the source. Shakespeare also introduces the military action between Turkey and Venice—infidels and Christians—which gives especial importance to Othello’s posting to Cyprus, a Venetian protectorate which the Turks attacked in 1570 and conquered in the following year. In the source, Othello and Desdemona are already happily settled into married life when they go to Cyprus; Shakespeare compresses the time-scheme and makes many changes to the narrative. Othello, a great success in Shakespeare’s time, was one of the first plays to be acted after the reopening of the theatres in 1660, and since that time has remained one of the most popular plays on the English stage. THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY OTHELLO, the Moor of Venice DESDEMONA, his wife Michael CASSIO, his lieutenant BIANCA, a courtesan, in love with Cassio IAGO, the Moor’s ensign EMILIA, Iago’s wife A CLOWN, a servant of Othello The DUKE of Venice BRABANZIO, Desdemona’s father, a Senator of Venice GRAZIANO, Brabanzio’s brother LODOVICO, kinsman of Brabanzio SENATORS of Venice RODERIGO, a Venetian gentleman, in love with Desdemona MONTANO, Governor of Cyprus A HERALD A MESSENGER Attendants, officers, sailors, gentlemen of Cyprus, musicians

The Tragedy of Othello the Moor of Venice

Atto 1, Scena 1

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Enter Iago and Roderigo
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	’Sblood, but you’ll not hear me! If ever I did dream of such a matter, abhor me.
RODERIGO	Thou told’st 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 stuffed with epithets of war, 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 togaed consuls can propose As masterly as he. Mere prattle without practice 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 Christened and heathen—must be beleed and calmed By debitor and creditor. This counter-caster, He in good time must his lieutenant be, And I—God bless the mark!—his Moorship’s ensign.
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 naught but provender, and when he’s old, cashiered. 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 ‘em, 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 chances of vexation on’t As it may lose some colour.
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	(calling) What ho, Brabanzio, Signor Brabanzio, ho!
IAGO	(calling) Awake, what ho, Brabanzio, thieves, thieves, thieves! Look to your house, your daughter, and your bags. Thieves, thieves!
(didascalia)	Enter Brabanzio in his nightgown at a window above
BRABANZIO	What is the reason of this terrible summons? What is the matter there?
RODERIGO	Signor, is all your family within?
IAGO	Are your doors locked?
BRABANZIO	Why, wherefore ask you this?
IAGO	’Swounds, sir, you’re robbed. 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.
BRABANZIO	What, have you lost your wits?
RODERIGO	Most reverend signor, do you know my voice?
BRABANZIO	Not I. What are you?
RODERIGO	My name is Roderigo.
BRABANZIO	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.
BRABANZIO	But thou must needs be sure My spirits and my place have in their power To make this bitter to thee.
RODERIGO	Patience, good sir.
BRABANZIO	What tell’st thou me of robbing? This is Venice. My house is not a grange.
RODERIGO	Most grave Brabanzio, In simple and pure soul I come to you.
IAGO	(to Brabanzio) ’Swounds, 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 jennets for germans.
BRABANZIO	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.
BRABANZIO	Thou art a villain.
IAGO	You are a senator.
BRABANZIO	This thou shalt answer. I know thee, Roderigo.
RODERIGO	Sir, I will answer anything. 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’th’ 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 everywhere. 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.
BRABANZIO	(calling) 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!
(didascalia)	Exit
IAGO	Farewell, for I must leave you. It seems not meet nor wholesome to my place To be producted—as, if I stay, I shall— Against the Moor, for I do know the state, However this may gall him with some check, Cannot with safety cast him, for he’s embarked With such loud reason to the Cyprus wars, Which even now stands 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
(didascalia)	Enter below Brabanzio in his nightgown, and
IAGO	servants with torches
BRABANZIO	It is too true an evil. Gone she is, And what’s to come of my despised time Is naught but bitterness. Now, Roderigo, Where didst thou see her?—O unhappy girl!— With the Moor, sayst thou?—Who would be a father?— How didst thou know ’twas she?—O, she deceives me Past thought!—What said she to you? (To servants) Get more tapers, Raise all my kindred.
(didascalia)	Exit one or more
BRABANZIO	(To Roderigo) Are they married, think you?
RODERIGO	Truly, I think they are.
BRABANZIO	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.
BRABANZIO	(to servants) Call up my brother. (To Roderigo) O, would you had had her. (To servants) Some one way, some another.
(didascalia)	Exit one or more
BRABANZIO	(To Roderigo) 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.
BRABANZIO	Pray you lead on. At every house I’ll call; I may command at most. (Calling) Get weapons, ho, And raise some special officers of night. On, good Roderigo. I will deserve your pains. Exeunt

Atto 1, Scena 2

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	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’th’ conscience To do no contrived murder. I lack iniquity, Sometime, to do me service. Nine or ten times I had thought to’ve yerked 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 or 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 signory Shall out-tongue his complaints. ’Tis yet to know— Which, when I know that boasting is an honour, I shall promu]gate—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 reached. For know, Iago, But that I love the gentle Desdemona I would not my unhousèd free condition Put into circumscription and confine For the seas’ worth.
(didascalia)	Enter Cassio and officers, with torches
OTHELLO	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.
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 called for, When, being not at your lodging to be found, The senate sent about three several quests 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	Ensign, what makes he here?
IAGO	Faith, he tonight hath boarded a land-carrack. If it prove lawful prize, he’s made for ever.
CASSIO	I do not understand.
IAGO	He’s married.
CASSIO	To who?
(didascalia)	Enter
CASSIO	Brabanzio, Roderigo, and officers, with lights and weapons
IAGO	Marry, to—
(didascalia)	Enter Othello
IAGO	(To Othello) Come, captain, will you go?
OTHELLO	Have with you.
CASSIO	Here comes another troop to seek for you.
IAGO	It is Brabanzio. General, be advised. He comes to bad intent.
OTHELLO	Holla, stand, there!
RODERIGO	(to Brabanzio) Signor, it is the Moor.
BRABANZIO	Down with him, thief!
IAGO	(drawing his sword) You, Roderigo? Come, sir, I am for you.
OTHELLO	Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust ’em. (To Brabanzio) Good signor, you shall more command with years Than with your weapons.
BRABANZIO	O thou foul thief, where hast thou stowed my daughter? Damned 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, t‘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 weakens 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. (To officers) 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. Whither will you that I go To answer this your charge?
BRABANZIO	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?
OFFICER	(to Brabanzio) ’Tis true, most worthy signor. The Duke’s in council, and your noble self, I am sure, is sent for.
BRABANZIO	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, Bondslaves and pagans shall our statesmen be. Exeunt

Atto 1, Scena 3

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Enter the Duke and Senators set at a table, with lights and officers
DUKE	There is no composition in these news That gives them credit.
FIRST SENATOR	Indeed, they are disproportioned. My letters say a hundred and seven galleys.
DUKE	And mine a hundred-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	Nay, it is possible enough to judgement. 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!
(didascalia)	Enter a Sailor
OFFICER	A messenger from the galleys.
DUKE	Now, what’s the business?
SAILOR	The Turkish preparation makes for Rhodes. So was I bid report here to the state By Signor Angelo.
DUKE	(to Senators) 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 th’abilities That Rhodes is dressed 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	Nay, in all confidence, he’s not for Rhodes.
OFFICER	Here is more news.
(didascalia)	Enter a Messenger
MESSENGER	The Ottomites, reverend and gracious, Steering with due course toward 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. Signor Montano, Your trusty and most valiant servitor, With his free duty recommends you thus, And prays you to believe him.
DUKE	’Tis certain then for Cyprus. Marcus Luccicos, is not he in town?
FIRST SENATOR	He’s now in Florence.
DUKE	Write from us to him post-post-haste. Dispatch.
(didascalia)	Enter Brabanzio, Othello, Roderigo, Iago, Cassio, and officers
FIRST SENATOR	Here comes Brabanzio and the valiant Moor.
DUKE	Valiant Othello, we must straight employ you Against the general enemy Ottoman. (To Brabanzio) I did not see you. Welcome, gentle signor. We lacked your counsel and your help tonight.
BRABANZIO	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 floodgate and o’erbearing nature That it engluts and swallows other sorrows, And it is still itself.
DUKE	Why, what’s the matter?
BRABANZIO	My daughter, O, my daughter!
SENATORS	Dead?
BRABANZIO	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	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.
BRABANZIO	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.
SENATORS	We are very sorry for’t.
DUKE	(to Othello) What in your own part can you say to this?
BRABANZIO	Nothing but this is so.
OTHELLO	Most potent, grave, and reverend signors, 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 blessed 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 broils and battle. And therefore little shall I grace my cause In speaking for myself. Yet, by your gracious patience, I will a round unvarnished tale deliver Of my whole course of love, what drugs, what charms, What conjuration and what mighty magic— For such proceeding I am charged withat— I won his daughter.
BRABANZIO	A maiden never bold, Of spirit so still and quiet that her motion Blushed at hersetf—and she in spite of nature, Of years, of country, credit, everything, To fall in love with what she feared to look on! It is a judgement maimed and most imperfect That will confess perfection so could err Against all rules of nature, and must be driven To find out practices 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	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. A 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	(to officers) Fetch Desdemona hither.
OTHELLO	Ensign, conduct them. You best know the place.
(didascalia)	Exit Iago with two or three officers
OTHELLO	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	Say it, Othello.
OTHELLO	Her father loved me, oft invited me, Still questioned 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 th’ very moment that he bade me tell it, Wherein I spoke of most disastrous chances, Of moving accidents by flood and field, Of hair-breadth scapes i‘th’ imminent deadly breach, Of being taken by the insolent foe And sold to slavery, of my redemption thence, And portance in my traveller’s 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 my process, And of the cannibals that each other eat, The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads Do grow beneath their shoulders. These things to hear Would Desdemona seriously incline, But still the house affairs would draw her thence, Which ever as she could with haste dispatch She’d 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 suffered. My story being done, She gave me for my pains a world of kisses. She swore in faith ’twas strange, ‘twas passing strange, ’Twas pitiful, ’twas wondrous pitiful. She wished she had not heard it, yet she wished That heaven had made her such a man. She thanked 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 passed, And I loved her that she did pity them. This only is the witchcraft I have used.
(didascalia)	Enter Desdemona, Iago, and attendants
OTHELLO	Here comes the lady. Let her witness it.
DUKE	I think this tale would win my daughter, too.— Good Brabanzio, Take up this mangled matter at the best. Men do their broken weapons rather use Than their bare hands.
BRABANZIO	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 showed To you, preferring you before her father, So much I challenge that I may profess Due to the Moor my lord.
BRABANZIO	God b‘wi’you, I ha’ 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. (To Desdemona) 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 ’em. I have done, my lord.
DUKE	Let me speak like yourself, and lay a sentence Which, as a grece 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 robbed that smiles steals something from the thief; He robs himself that spends a bootless grief.
BRABANZIO	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 th’affairs of state.
DUKE	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 more 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 agnize A natural and prompt alacrity I find in hardness, and do undertake This 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	Why, at her father’s!
BRABANZIO	I will not have it so.
OTHELLO	Nor I.
DESDEMONA	Nor would I 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 T’assist my simpleness.
DUKE	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 honours 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 why I love him are bereft me, And I a heavy interim shall support By his dear absence. Let me go with him.
OTHELLO	(to the Duke) Let her have your voice. Vouch with me heaven, I therefor 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 When she is with me. No, when light-winged toys Of feathered Cupid seel 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	Be it as you shall privately determine, Either for her stay or going. Th’affair cries haste, And speed must answer it. A SENATOR (to Othello) You must away tonight.
DESDEMONA	Tonight, my lord?
DUKE	This night.
OTHELLO	With all my heart.
DUKE	At nine i’th’ morning here we’ll meet again. Othello, leave some officer behind, And he shall our commission bring to you, And such things else of quality and respect As doth import you.
OTHELLO	So please your grace, my ensign. A man he is of honesty and trust. To his conveyance I assign my wife, With what else needful your good grace shall think To be sent after me.
DUKE	Let it be so. Good night to everyone. (To Brabanzio) And, noble signor, If virtue no delighted beauty lack, Your son-in-law is far more fair than black. A SENATOR Adieu, brave Moor. Use Desdemona well.
BRABANZIO	Look to her, Moor, if thou hast eyes to see. She has deceived her father, and may thee.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Duke, Brabanzio, Cassio, Senators, and officers
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 matter and direction To spend with thee. We must obey the time.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Othello and Desdemona
RODERIGO	Iago.
IAGO	What sayst thou, noble heart?
RODERIGO	What will I do, think’st 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 ha’ 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 beam of our lives had not one scale of reason to peise 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 long that Desdemona should continue her love to the Moor—put money in thy purse—nor he his to her. It was a violent commencement in her, 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. 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 super-subtle Venetian be not too hard for my wits and all the tribe of hell, thou shalt enjoy her; therefore make money. A pox o’ 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 tomorrow. Adieu.
RODERIGO	Where shall we meet i’th’ morning?
IAGO	At my lodging.
RODERIGO	I’ll be with thee betimes.
IAGO	Go to, farewell— Do you hear, Roderigo?
RODERIGO	I’ll sell all my land.
(didascalia)	Exit
IAGO	Thus do I ever make my fool my purse— For I mine own gained 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 ears 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 th’ nose As asses are. I ha’t. It is ingendered. Hell and night Must bring this monstrous birth to the world’s light.
(didascalia)	Exit

Atto 2, Scena 1

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Enter below Montano, Governor of Cyprus; two other gentlemen above
MONTANO	What from the cape can you discern at sea?
FIRST GENTLEMAN	Nothing at all. It is a high-wrought 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 ha’ ruffianed 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 th’ever-fixèd Pole. I never did like molestation view On the enchafèd flood.
MONTANO	If that the Turkish fleet Be not ensheltered and embayed, they are drowned. It is impossible to bear it out.
(didascalia)	Enter a third Gentleman
THIRD GENTLEMAN	News, lads! Our wars are done. The desperate tempest hath so banged the Turks That their designment halts. A noble ship of Venice Hath seen a grievous wrack and sufferance On most part of their fleet.
MONTANO	How, is this true?
THIRD GENTLEMAN	The ship is here put in, A Veronessa. 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 sea-side, 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 th’aerial blue An indistinct regard.
THIRD GENTLEMAN	Come, let’s do so, For every minute is expectancy Of more arrivance.
(didascalia)	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 him On a dangerous sea.
MONTANO	Is he well shipped?
CASSIO	His barque is stoutly timbered, and his pilot Of very expert and approved allowance. Therefore my hopes, not surfeited to death, Stand in bold cure.
VOICES	(within) A sail, a sail, a sail!
CASSIO	What noise? A GENTLEMAN The town is empty. On the brow o‘th’ sea Stand ranks of people, and they cry ‘A sail!’
CASSIO	My hopes do shape him for the governor. A shot A GENTLEMAN 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. A GENTLEMAN I shall.
(didascalia)	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 th’essential vesture of creation Does tire the engineer.
(didascalia)	Enter Gentleman
CASSIO	How now, who has put in?
GENTLEMAN	’Tis one Iago, ensign to the general.
CASSIO	He’s had most favourable and happy speed. Tempests themselves, high seas, and howling winds, The guttered rocks and congregated sands, Traitors ensteeped to enclog 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 sennight’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 renewed fire to our extincted spirits, And bring all Cyprus comfort.
(didascalia)	Enter Desdemona, Iago, Emilia, and Roderigo
CASSIO	O, behold, The riches of the ship is come on shore! You men of Cyprus, let her have your knees. Montano and the Gentlemen make curtsy to Desdemona 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.
VOICES	(within) A sail, a sail!
CASSIO	But hark, a sail. A shot A GENTLEMAN They give their greeting to the citadel. This likewise is a friend.
CASSIO	See for the news.
(didascalia)	Exit Gentleman
CASSIO	Good ensign, you are welcome. (Kissing 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.
IAGO	Sir, would she give you so much of her lips As of her tongue she oft bestows on me, You would have enough.
DESDEMONA	Alas, she has no speech!
IAGO	In faith, too much. I find it still when I ha’ leave to sleep. Marry, before your ladyship, I grant, She puts her tongue a little in her heart, And chides with thinking.
EMILIA	You ha’ little cause to say so.
IAGO	Come on, come on. You are pictures out of door, Bells in your parlours; wildcats in your kitchens, Saints in your injuries; devils being offended, Players in your housewifery, and hussies 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 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, essay—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 frieze— It plucks out brains and all. But my muse labours, And thus she is delivered: 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 helped her to an heir.
DESDEMONA	These are old fond paradoxes, to make fools laugh i’th’ 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 lacked gold and yet went never gay, Fled from her wish, and yet said ‘Now I may’; She that, being angered, 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 wights 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. Cassio and Desdemona talk apart
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 curtsy, ’tis so indeed; yet again your fingers to your lips? Would they were clyster-pipes for your sake.
(didascalia)	Trumpets within
IAGO	(Aloud) The Moor—I know his trumpet.
CASSIO	’Tis truly so.
DESDEMONA	Let’s meet him and receive him.
CASSIO	Lo where he comes!
(didascalia)	Enter Othello and attendants
OTHELLO	(to Desdemona) 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 wakened death, And let the labouring barque 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, (they kiss) and this, the greatest discords be 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 drowned. 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!
(didascalia)	Exeunt Othello and Desdemona with all but lago and Roderigo
IAGO	(to an attendant as he goes out) Do thou meet me presently at the harbour. (To Roderigo) Come hither. If thou beest 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.
RODERICO	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. To 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 compass of his salt and most hidden loose affection. Why, none; why, none—a slipper and subtle knave, a finder of occasion, 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? 255
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. Villainous thoughts, Roderigo! When these mutualities so marshal the way, hard at hand comes the master and main exercise, th’incorporate conclusion. Pish! But, sir, be you ruled by me. I have brought you from Venice. Watch you tonight. 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’s 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 you 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.
(didascalia)	Exit
IAGO	That Cassio loves her, I do well believe it. That she loves him, ‘tis apt and of great credit. The Moor—howbe’t 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 leapt 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 evened with him, wife for wife— Or failing so, yet that I put the Moor At least into a jealousy so strong That judgement cannot cure, which thing to do, If this poor trash of Venice whom I trace 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 nightcap, 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 till used.
(didascalia)	Exit

Atto 2, Scena 2

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Enter Othello’s Herald reading a proclamation
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! Exit

Atto 2, Scena 3

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Enter Othello, Desdemona, Cassio, and attendants
OTHELLO	Good Michael, look you to the guard tonight. 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. Tomorrow 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. (To Cassio) Good night.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Othello, Desdemona, and attendants
(didascalia)	Enter Iago
CASSIO	Welcome, Iago. We must to the watch.
IAGO	Not this hour, lieutenant; ‘tis not yet ten o’th’ 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 full of game.
CASSIO	Indeed, she’s a most fresh and delicate creature.
IAGO	What an eye she has! Methinks it sounds a parley to 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 tonight, 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 ha’ drunk but one cup tonight, and that was craftily qualified, too, and behold what innovation it makes here! I am infortunate 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.
(didascalia)	Exit
IAGO	If I can fasten but one cup upon him, With that which he hath drunk tonight already He’ll be as full of quarrel and offence As my young mistress’ dog. Now my sick fool Roderigo, Whom love hath turned almost the wrong side out, To Desdemona hath tonight caroused Potations pottle-deep, and he’s to watch. Three else of Cyprus—noble swelling spirits That hold their honours in a wary distance, The very elements of this warlike isle— Have I tonight flustered 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.
(didascalia)	Enter Montano, Cassio, Gentlemen, [and servants] with wine
IAGO	But here they come. If consequence do but approve my dream, My boat sails freely both with wind and stream.
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 cannikin clink, clink, And let me the cannikin clink. A soldier’s a man, O, man’s 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 exquisite 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! (Sings) King Stephen was and a worthy peer, His breeches cost him but a crown; He held them sixpence all too dear, With that he called 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 thy auld cloak about thee. Some wine, ho!
CASSIO	Fore God, 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 ensign. Let’s ha’ no more of this. Let’s to our affairs. God forgive us our sins. Gentlemen, let’s look to our business. Do not think, gentlemen, I am drunk. This is my ensign, this is my right hand, and this is my left. I am not drunk now. I can stand well enough, and I speak well enough.
GENTLEMEN	Excellent well.
CASSIO	Why, very well then. You must not think then that I am drunk.
(didascalia)	Exit
MONTANO	To th’ platform, masters. Come, let’s set the watch.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Gentlemen
IAGO	You see this fellow that is gone before— He’s 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 th’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 his 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?
(didascalia)	Enter Roderigo
IAGO	[aside] How now, Roderigo! I pray you after the lieutenant, go.
(didascalia)	Exit Roderigo
MONTANO	And ’tis great pity that the noble Moor Should hazard such a place as his own second With one of an engraffed 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.
VOICES	(within) Help, help!
IAGO	But hark, what noise?
(didascalia)	Enter Cassio, driving in Roderigo
CASSIO	’Swounds, 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?
MONTANO	Nay, good lieutenant, I pray you, sir, hold your hand.
CASSIO	Let me go, sir, or I’ll knock you o’er the mazard.
MONTANO	Come, come, you’re drunk.
CASSIO	Drunk? They fight
IAGO	(to Roderigo) Away, I say. Go out and cry a mutiny.
(didascalia)	Exit Roderigo
IAGO	Nay, good lieutenant. God’s will, gentlemen! Help, ho! Lieutenant! Sir! Montano! Sir! Help, masters. Here’s a goodly watch indeed. A bell rung Who’s that which rings the bell? Diablo, ho! The town will rise. God’s will, lieutenant, hold. You’ll be ashamed for ever.
(didascalia)	Enter Othello and attendants, with weapons
OTHELLO	What is the matter here?
MONTANO	’Swounds, I bleed still. I am hurt to th’ death. (Attacking Cassio) He dies.
OTHELLO	Hold, for your lives!
IAGO	Hold, ho, lieutenant, sir, Montano, gentlemen! Have you forgot all place of sense and duty? Hold, the general speaks to you. Hold, hold, for shame.
OTHELLO	Why, how now, ho? From whence ariseth this? Are we turned 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 belt—it frights the isle From her propriety.
(didascalia)	Bell stops
OTHELLO	What is the matter, masters? Honest Iago, that looks 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 others’ breasts 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. 1 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 judgement collied, Essays to lead the way. ‘Swounds, if I 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 twinned 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	(to Iago) 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 ha’ 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. This 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 returned, the rather For that I heard the clink and fall of swords And Cassio high in oath, which till tonight 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.
(didascalia)	Enter Desdemona, attended
OTHELLO	Look if my gentle love be not raised up. I’ll make thee an example.
DESDEMONA	What is the matter, dear?
OTHELLO	All’s well now, sweeting. Come away to bed. (To Montano) Sir, for your hurts Myself will be your surgeon. (To attendants) Lead him off.
(didascalia)	Exeunt attendants with Montano
OTHELLO	Iago, look with care about the town, And silence those whom this vile brawl distracted. Come, Desdemona. ’Tis the soldier’s life To have their balmy slumbers waked with strife.
(didascalia)	Exeunt all but Iago and Cassio
IAGO	What, are you hurt, lieutenant?
CASSIO	Ay, past all surgery.
IAGO	Marry, God forbid.
CASSIO	Reputation, reputation, reputation—O, I ha’ lost my reputation, I ha’ 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 more 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 moraller. 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. I 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 check me here.
IAGO	You are in the right. Good night, lieutenant. I must to the watch.
CASSIO	Good night, honest Iago.
(didascalia)	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 Th’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 enfettered 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 fortune, 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.
(didascalia)	Enter Roderigo
IAGO	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 ha’ been tonight 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 ha’ 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 cashiered Cassio. Though other things grow fair against the sun, Yet fruits that blossom first will first be ripe. Content thyself a while. 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.
(didascalia)	Exit Roderigo
IAGO	Two things are to be done. My wife must move for Cassio to her mistress. I’ll set her on. Myself a 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.
(didascalia)	Exit

Atto 3, Scena 1

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Enter Cassio with Musicians
CASSIO	Masters, play here—I will content your pains— Something that’s brief, and bid ‘Good morrow, general’.
(didascalia)	Music. Enter Clown
CLOWN	Why, masters, ha’ your instruments been in Naples, that they speak i’th’ nose thus?
MUSICIAN	HOW, sir, how?
CLOWN	Are these, I pray you, wind instruments?
MUSICIAN	Ay, marry are they, sir.
CLOWN	O, thereby hangs a tail.
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.
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.
MUSICIAN	We ha’ 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
(didascalia)	Enter Iago
CASSIO	In happy time, Iago.
IAGO	You ha’ not been abed, then.
CASSIO	Why, no. The day had broke Before we parted. I ha’ 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.
(didascalia)	Exit Iago
CASSIO	I never knew a Florentine more kind and honest.
(didascalia)	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 saf’st 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 Desdemon 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.
(didascalia)	Exeunt

Atto 3, Scena 2

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	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.
(didascalia)	Exit
OTHELLO	This fortification, gentlemen—shall we see’t? A GENTLEMAN We’ll wait upon your lordship.
(didascalia)	Exeunt

Atto 3, Scena 3

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	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 cause 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 anything 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 farther off Than in a politic distance.
CASSIO	Ay, but, lady, That policy may either last so long, Or feed upon such nice and wat’rish 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 everything he does With Cassio’s suit. Therefore be merry, Cassio, For thy solicitor shall rather die Than give thy cause away.
(didascalia)	Enter Othello and Iago
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.
(didascalia)	Exit Cassio
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 your 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 judgement in an honest face. I prithee call him back.
OTHELLO	Went he hence now?
DESDEMONA	Yes, faith, 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 Desdemon. Some other time.
DESDEMONA	But shall’t be shortly?
OTHELLO	The sooner, sweet, for you.
DESDEMONA	Shall’t be tonight at supper?
OTHELLO	No, not tonight.
DESDEMONA	Tomorrow dinner, then?
OTHELLO	I shall not dine at home. I meet the captains at the citadel.
DESDEMONA	Why then, tomorrow 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 example Out of her best—is not almost a fault T‘incur a private check. When shall he come? Tell me, Othello. I wonder in my soul What you would ask me that I should deny, Or stand so mamm’ring 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? By’r Lady, 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. (To Othello) Be as your fancies teach you. Whate’er you be, I am obedient.
(didascalia)	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 wooed 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, thou echo‘st me As if there were some monster in thy thought Too hideous to be shown! Thou dost mean something. I heard thee say even now thou liked’st 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 cried‘st ‘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 giv’st 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’re close dilations, 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 that breast so pure But some uncleanly apprehensions Keep leets and law-days, and in sessions sit With meditations lawful?
OTHELLO	Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago, If thou but think‘st him wronged and mak’st 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 then, 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, and 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 fondly 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 God the souls of all my tribe defend From jealousy!
OTHELLO	Why, why is this? Think‘st thou I’d make a life 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 blowed 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 this, 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 eyes 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 God 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 seemed 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 seel 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 dashed 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 Which my thoughts aimed not. 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 disproportions, thoughts unnatural! But pardon me. I do not in position Distinctly speak of her, though I may fear Her will, recoiling to her better judgement, 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 farther. Leave it to time. Although ’tis fit that Cassio have his place— For sure he fills it up with great ability— Yet, if you please to hold him off a while, 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.
(didascalia)	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 heart-strings I’d whistle her off and let her down the wind To prey 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.
(didascalia)	Enter Desdemona and Emilia
OTHELLO	Look where she comes. 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. ’will away again. Let me but bind it hard, within this hour It will be well.
OTHELLO	Your napkin is too little. He puts the napkin from him. It drops. Let it alone. Come, I’ll go in with you.
DESDEMONA	I am very sorry that you are not well.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Othello and Desdemona
EMILIA	(taking up the napkin) I am glad I have found this napkin. This was her first remembrance from the Moor. My wayward husband hath a hundred times Wooed 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 ha’ 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.
(didascalia)	Enter Iago
IAGO	How now, what do you here alone?
EMILIA	Do not you chide. I have a thing for you.
IAGO	You have 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 that 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 th‘advantage I, being here, took’t up. Look, here ’tis.
IAGO	A good wench! Give it me.
EMILIA	What will you do with it, that you have been so earnest To have me filch it?
IAGO	Why, what is that to you? He takes the napkin
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.
(didascalia)	Exit Emilia
IAGO	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.
(didascalia)	Enter Othello
IAGO	I did say so. Look where he comes. 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 harmed not me. I slept the next night well, fed well, was free and merry. I found not Cassio’s kisses on her lips. He that is robbed, not wanting what is stol’n, Let him not know’t and he’s not robbed at all.
IAGO	I am sorry to hear this.
OTHELLO	I had been happy if the general camp, Pioneers and all, had tasted her sweet body, So I had nothing known. O, now for ever Farewell the tranquil mind, farewell content, Farewell the plumèd troops and the big wars That makes ambition virtue! O, farewell, Farewell the neighing steed and the shrill trump, The spirit-stirring drum, th‘ear-piercing fife, The royal banner, and all quality, Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war! And O, you mortal engines whose rude throats Th’immortal Jove’s dread clamours counterfeit, Farewell! Othello’s occupation’s gone.
IAGO	Is’t possible, my lord?
(didascalia)	OTHELLO taking Iago by the throat
IAGO	Villain, be sure thou prove my love a whore. Be sure of it. Give me the ocular proof, Or, by the worth of mine 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 buy you, take mine office. O wretched fool, That lov’st 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. My 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, and I will.
IAGO	And may. But how, how satisfied, my lord? Would you, the supervisor, grossly gape on, Behold her topped?
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 might ha’t.
OTHELLO	Give me a living reason she’s disloyal.
IAGO	I do not like the office, But sith I am entered in this cause so far, Pricked 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 grip and wring my hand, Cry ‘O, sweet creature!’, then kiss me hard, As if he plucked up kisses by the roots, That grew upon my lips, lay his leg o‘er my thigh, And sigh, and kiss, and then cry ‘Cursèd 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.
IAGO	’Tis a shrewd doubt, though it be but a dream, And this may help to thicken other proofs That do demonstrate thinly.
OTHELLO	I’ll tear her all to pieces.
IAGO	Nay, yet 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 today 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 the hollow hell. Yield up, O love, thy crown and hearted throne To tyrannous hate! Swell, bosom, with thy freight, For ’tis of aspics’ tongues.
IAGO	Yet be content.
OTHELLO	O, blood, blood, blood!
IAGO	Patience, I say. Your mind may change.
OTHELLO	Never, Iago. Like to the Pontic Sea, Whose icy current and compulsive course Ne‘er knows 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.
(didascalia)	He kneels
OTHELLO	Now, by yon marble heaven, In the due reverence of a sacred vow I here engage my words.
IAGO	Do not rise yet. Iago kneels Witness you ever-burning lights above, You elements that clip us round about, Witness that here Iago doth give up The execution of his wit, hands, heart To wronged Othello’s service. Let him command, And to obey shall be in me remorse, What bloody business ever.
(didascalia)	They rise
OTHELLO	I greet thy love, Not with vain thanks, but with acceptance bounteous, And will upon the instant put thee to’t.
(didascalia)	Within these three days let me hear thee say
OTHELLO	That Cassio’s not alive.
IAGO	My friend is dead. ’Tis done at your request; but let her live.
OTHELLO	Damn her, lewd minx! O, damn her, damn her! Come, go with me apart. I will withdraw To furnish me with some swift means of death For the fair devil. Now art thou my lieutenant.
IAGO	I am your own for ever.
(didascalia)	Exeunt

Atto 3, Scena 4

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Enter Desdemona, Emilia, and the Clown
DESDEMONA	Do you know, sirrah, where Lieutenant Cassio lies?
CLOWN	I dare not say he lies anywhere.
DESDEMONA	Why, man?
CLOWN	He’s a soldier, and for me to say a soldier lies, ’tis stabbing.
DESDEMONA	Go to. Where lodges he?
CLOWN	To tell you where he lodges is to tell you where I lie.
DESDEMONA	Can anything be made of this?
CLOWN	I know not where he lodges, and for me to devise a lodging and say he lies here, or he lies there, were to lie in mine own throat.
DESDEMONA	Can you enquire him out, and be edified by report?
CLOWN	I will catechize the world for him; that is, make questions, and by them answer.
DESDEMONA	Seek him, bid him come hither, tell him I have moved my lord on his behalf, and hope all will be well.
CLOWN	To do this is within the compass of man’s wit, and therefore I will attempt the doing it.
(didascalia)	Exit
DESDEMONA	Where should I lose the handkerchief, Emilia?
EMILIA	I know not, madam.
DESDEMONA	Believe me, I had rather have lost my purse Full of crusadoes, and but my noble Moor Is true of mind, and made of no such baseness As jealous creatures are, it were enough To put him to ill thinking.
EMILIA	Is he not jealous?
DESDEMONA	Who, he? I think the sun where he was born Drew all such humours from him.
(didascalia)	Enter Othello
EMILIA	Look where he comes.
DESDEMONA	I will not leave him now till Cassio Be called to him. How is’t with you, my lord?
OTHELLO	Well, my good lady. (Aside) O hardness to dissemble!— How do you, Desdemona?
DESDEMONA	Well, my good lord.
OTHELLO	Give me your hand. This hand is moist, my lady.
DESDEMONA	It hath felt no age, nor known no sorrow.
OTHELLO	This argues fruitfulness and liberal heart. Hot, hot and moist—this hand of yours requires A sequester from liberty; fasting, and prayer, Much castigation, exercise devout, For here’s a young and sweating devil here That commonly rebels. ’Tis a good hand, A frank one.
DESDEMONA	You may indeed say so, For ’twas that hand that gave away my heart.
OTHELLO	A liberal hand. The hearts of old gave hands, But our new heraldry is hands, not hearts.
DESDEMONA	I cannot speak of this. Come now, your promise.
OTHELLO	What promise, chuck?
DESDEMONA	I have sent to bid Cassio come speak with you.
OTHELLO	I have a salt and sorry rheum offends me. Lend me thy handkerchief.
DESDEMONA	(offering a handkerchief) Here, my lord.
OTHELLO	That which I gave you.
DESDEMONA	I have it not about me.
OTHELLO	Not?
DESDEMONA	No, faith, my lord.
OTHELLO	That’s a fault. That handkerchief Did an Egyptian to my mother give. She was a charmer, and could almost read The thoughts of people. She told her, while she kept it ’Twould make her amiable, and subdue my father Entirely to her love; but if she lost it, Or made a gift of it, my father’s eye Should hold her loathèd, and his spirits should hunt After new fancies. She, dying, gave it me, And bid me, when my fate would have me wived, To give it her. I did so, and take heed on’t. Make it a darling, like your precious eye. To lose’t or give’t away were such perdition As nothing else could match.
DESDEMONA	Is’t possible?
OTHELLO	’Tis true. There’s magic in the web of it. A sibyl that had numbered in the world The sun to course two hundred compasses In her prophetic fury sewed the work. The worms were hallowed that did breed the silk, And it was dyed in mummy, which the skilful Conserved of maidens’ hearts.
DESDEMONA	I’faith, is’t true?
OTHELLO	Most veritable. Therefore look to’t well.
DESDEMONA	Then would to God that I had never seen it!
OTHELLO	Ha, wherefore?
DESDEMONA	Why do you speak so startingly and rash?
OTHELLO	Is’t lost? Is’t gone? Speak, is’t out o’th’ way?
DESDEMONA	Heaven bless us!
OTHELLO	Say you?
DESDEMONA	It is not lost, but what an if it were?
OTHELLO	HOW?
DESDEMONA	I say it is not lost.
OTHELLO	Fetch’t, let me see’t.
DESDEMONA	Why, so I can, sir, but I will not now. This is a trick to put me from my suit. Pray you let Cassio be received again.
OTHELLO	Fetch me the handkerchief. My mind misgives.
DESDEMONA	Come, come, you’ll never meet a more sufficient man.
OTHELLO	The handkerchief.
DESDEMONA	I pray, talk me of Cassio.
OTHELLO	The handkerchief.
DESDEMONA	A man that all his time Hath founded his good fortunes on your love, Shared dangers with you—
OTHELLO	The handkerchief.
DESDEMONA	I’faith, you are to blame.
OTHELLO	’Swounds! Exit
EMILIA	Is not this man jealous?
DESDEMONA	I ne’er saw this before. Sure there’s some wonder in this handkerchief. I am most unhappy in the loss of it.
EMILIA	’Tis not a year or two shows us a man. They are all but stomachs, and we all but food. They eat us hungrily, and when they are full, They belch us.
(didascalia)	Enter Iago and Cassio
EMILIA	Look you, Cassio and my husband.
IAGO	(to Cassio) There is no other way. ‘Tis she must do’t, And lo, the happiness! Go and importune her.
DESDEMONA	How now, good Cassio? What’s the news with you?
CASSIO	Madam, my former suit. I do beseech you That by your virtuous means I may again Exist and be a member of his love Whom I, with all the office of my heart, Entirely honour. I would not be delayed. If my offence be of such mortal kind That nor my service past, nor present sorrows, Nor purposed merit in futurity Can ransom me into his love again, But to know so must be my benefit. So shall I clothe me in a forced content, And shut myself up in some other course To fortune’s alms.
DESDEMONA	Alas, thrice-gentle Cassio! My advocation is not now in tune. My lord is not my lord, nor should I know him Were he in favour as in humour altered. So help me every spirit sanctified As I have spoken for you all my best, And stood within the blank of his displeasure For my free speech! You must a while be patient. What I can do I will, and more I will Than for myself I dare. Let that suffice you.
IAGO	Is my lord angry?
EMILIA	He went hence but now, And certainly in strange unquietness.
IAGO	Can he be angry? I have seen the cannon When it hath blown his ranks into the air, And, like the devil, from his very arm Puffed his own brother; and is he angry? Something of moment then. I will go meet him. There’s matter in’t indeed, if he be angry.
DESDEMONA	I prithee do so.
(didascalia)	Exit Iago
DESDEMONA	Something sure of state, Either from Venice or some unhatched practice Made demonstrable here in Cyprus to him, Hath puddled his clear spirit; and in such cases Men’s natures wrangle with inferior things, Though great ones are their object. ’Tis even so; For let our finger ache and it indues Our other, healthful members even to a sense Of pain. Nay, we must think men are not gods, Nor of them look for such observancy As fits the bridal. Beshrew me much, Emilia, I was—unhandsome warrior as I am— Arraigning his unkindness with my soul; But now I find I had suborned the witness, And he’s indicted falsely.
EMILIA	Pray heaven it be State matters, as you think, and no conception Nor no jealous toy concerning you.
DESDEMONA	Alas the day, I never gave him cause.
EMILIA	But jealous souls will not be answered so. They are not ever jealous for the cause, But jealous for they’re jealous. It is a monster Begot upon itself, born on itself.
DESDEMONA	Heaven keep the monster from Othello’s mind.
EMILIA	Lady, amen.
DESDEMONA	I will go seek him. Cassio, walk here about. If I do find him fit I’ll move your suit, And seek to effect it to my uttermost.
CASSIO	I humbly thank your ladyship.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Desdemona and Emilia
(didascalia)	Enter Bianca
BIANCA	Save you, friend Cassio.
CASSIO	What make you from home? How is’t with you, my most fair Bianca? I’faith, sweet love, I was coming to your house.
BIANCA	And I was going to your lodging, Cassio. What, keep a week away? Seven days and nights, Eightscore-eight hours, and lovers’ absent hours More tedious than the dial eightscore times! O weary reckoning!
CASSIO	Pardon me, Bianca, I have this while with leaden thoughts been pressed, But I shall in a more continuate time Strike off this score of absence. Sweet Bianca, Take me this work out. He gives her Desdemona’s napkin
BIANCA	O Cassio, whence came this? This is some token from a newer friend. To the felt absence now I feel a cause. Is’t come to this? Well, well.
CASSIO	Go to, woman. Throw your vile guesses in the devil’s teeth, From whence you have them. You are jealous now That this is from some mistress, some remembrance. No, by my faith, Bianca.
BIANCA	Why, whose is it?
CASSIO	I know not, neither. I found it in my chamber. I like the work well. Ere it be demanded— As like enough it witt—I would have it copied. Take it, and do’t, and leave me for this time.
BIANCA	Leave you? Wherefore?
CASSIO	I do attend here on the general, And think it no addition, nor my wish, To have him see me womaned.
BIANCA	Why, I pray you?
CASSIO	Not that I love you not.
BIANCA	But that you do not love me. I pray you bring me on the way a little, And say if I shall see you soon at night.
CASSIO	’Tis but a little way that I can bring you, For I attend here; but I’ll see you soon.
BIANCA	’Tis very good. I must be circumstanced. Exeunt

Atto 4, Scena 1

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Enter Iago and Othello
IAGO	Will you think so?
OTHELLO	Think so, Iago?
IAGO	What, to kiss in private?
OTHELLO	An unauthorized kiss.
IAGO	Or to be naked with her friend in bed An hour or more, not meaning any harm?
OTHELLO	Naked in bed, Iago, and not mean harm? It is hypocrisy against the devil. They that mean virtuously and yet do so, The devil their virtue tempts, and they tempt heaven.
IAGO	If they do nothing, ’tis a venial slip. But if I give my wife a handkerchief—
OTHELLO	What then?
IAGO	Why then, ’tis hers, my lord, and being hers, She may, I think, bestow’t on any man.
OTHELLO	She is protectress of her honour, too. May she give that?
IAGO	Her honour is an essence that’s not seen. They have it very oft that have it not. But for the handkerchief—
OTHELLO	By heaven, I would most gladly have forgot it. Thou said‘st—O, it comes o’er my memory As doth the raven o’er the infectious house, Boding to all!—he had my handkerchief.
IAGO	Ay, what of that?
OTHELLO	That’s not so good now.
IAGO	What if I had said I had seen him do you wrong, Or heard him say—as knaves be such abroad, Who having by their own importunate suit Or voluntary dotage of some mistress Convinced or supplied them, cannot choose But they must blab—
OTHELLO	Hath he said anything?
IAGO	He hath, my lord. But, be you well assured, No more than he’ll unswear.
OTHELLO	What hath he said?
IAGO	Faith, that he did—I know not what he did.
OTHELLO	What, what?
IAGO	Lie—
OTHELLO	With her?
IAGO	With her, on her, what you will.
OTHELLO	Lie with her? Lie on her? We say ‘lie on her’ when they belie her. Lie with her? ’Swounds, that’s fulsome! Handkerchief—confessions—hankerchief. To confess and be hanged for his labour. First to be hanged and then to confess! I tremble at it. Nature would not invest herself in such shadowing passion without some instruction. It is not words that shakes me thus. Pish! Noses, ears, and lips! Is’t possible? Confess? Handkerchief? O devil! He falls down in a trance
IAGO	Work on; my medicine works. Thus credulous fools are caught, And many worthy and chaste dames even thus, All guiltless, meet reproach. What ho, my lord! My lord, I say. Othello!
(didascalia)	Enter Cassio
IAGO	How now, Cassio?
CASSIO	What’s the matter?
IAGO	My lord is fall’n into an epilepsy. This is his second fit. He had one yesterday.
CASSIO	Rub him about the temples.
IAGO	No, forbear. The lethargy must have his quiet course. If not, he foams at mouth, and by and by Breaks out to savage madness. Look, he stirs. Do you withdraw yourself a little while, He will recover straight. When he is gone I would on great occasion speak with you.
(didascalia)	Exit Cassio
IAGO	How is it, general? Have you not hurt your head?
OTHELLO	Dost thou mock me?
IAGO	I mock you not, by heaven. Would you would bear your fortune like a man.
OTHELLO	A hornèd man’s a monster and a beast.
IAGO	There’s many a beast then in a populous city, And many a civil monster.
OTHELLO	Did he confess it?
IAGO	Good sir, be a man. Think every bearded fellow that’s but yoked May draw with you. There’s millions now alive That nightly lie in those unproper beds Which they dare swear peculiar. Your case is better. O, ’tis the spite of hell, the fiend’s arch-mock, To lip a wanton in a secure couch And to suppose her chaste! No, let me know, And knowing what I am, I know what she shall be.
OTHELLO	O, thou art wise, ’tis certain.
IAGO	Stand you a while apart. Confine yourself but in a patient list. Whilst you were here, o‘erwhelmèd with your grief— A passion most unsuiting such a man— Cassio came hither. I shifted him away, And laid good ’scuse upon your ecstasy, Bade him anon return and here speak with me, The which he promised. Do but encave yourself, And mark the fleers, the gibes and notable scorns That dwell in every region of his face. For I will make him tell the tale anew, Where, how, how oft, how long ago, and when He hath and is again to cope your wife. I say, but mark his gesture. Marry, patience, Or I shall say you’re all-in-all in spleen, And nothing of a man.
OTHELLO	Dost thou hear, Iago? I will be found most cunning in my patience, But—dost thou hear?—most bloody.
IAGO	That’s not amiss, But yet keep time in all. Will you withdraw? Othello stands apart Now will I question Cassio of Bianca, A hussy that by selling her desires Buys herself bread and cloth. It is a creature That dotes on Cassio—as ’tis the strumpet’s plague To beguile many and be beguiled by one. He, when he hears of her, cannot restrain From the excess of laughter.
(didascalia)	Enter Cassio
IAGO	Here he comes. As he shall smile, Othello shall go mad; And his unbookish jealousy must conster Poor Cassio’s smiles, gestures, and light behaviours Quite in the wrong. How do you now, lieutenant?
CASSIO	The worser that you give me the addition Whose want even kills me.
IAGO	Ply Desdemona well and you are sure on’t. Now, if this suit lay in Bianca’s power, How quickly should you speed!
CASSIO	(laughing) Alas, poor caitiff!
OTHELLO	(aside) Look how he laughs already.
IAGO	I never knew a woman love man so.
CASSIO	Alas, poor rogue! I think i’faith she loves me.
OTHELLO	(aside) Now he denies it faintly, and laughs it out.
IAGO	Do you hear, Cassio?
OTHELLO	(aside) Now he importunes him To tell it o’er. Go to, well said, well said.
IAGO	She gives it out that you shall marry her. Do you intend it?
CASSIO	Ha, ha, ha!
OTHELLO	(aside) Do ye triumph, Roman, do you triumph?
CASSIO	I marry! What, a customer? Prithee, bear some charity to my wit—do not think it so unwholesome. Ha, ha, ha!
OTHELLO	(aside) So, so, so, so. They laugh that wins.
IAGO	Faith, the cry goes that you marry her.
CASSIO	Prithee, say true.
IAGO	I am a very villain else.
OTHELLO	(aside) Ha’ you scored me? Well. 125
CASSIO	This is the monkey’s own giving out. She is persuaded I will marry her out of her own love and flattery, not out of my promise.
OTHELLO	(aside) Iago beckons me. Now he begins the story. Othello draws closer
CASSIO	She was here even now. She haunts me in every place. I was the other day talking on the sea-bank with certain Venetians, and thither comes the bauble, and falls me thus about my neck.
OTHELLO	(aside) Crying ‘O dear Cassiol’ as it were. His gesture imports it.
CASSIO	So hangs and lolls and weeps upon me, so shakes and pulls me—ha, ha, ha!
OTHELLO	(aside) Now he tells how she plucked him to my chamber. O, I see that nose of yours, but not that dog I shall throw it to!
CASSIO	Well, I must leave her company.
(didascalia)	Enter Bianca
IAGO	Before me, look where she comes.
CASSIO	’Tis such another fitchew! Marry, a perfumed one. (To Bianca) What do you mean by this haunting of me?
BIANCA	Let the devil and his dam haunt you. What did you mean by that same handkerchief you gave me even now? I was a fine fool to take it. I must take out the whole work—a likely piece of work, that you should find it in your chamber and know not who left it there. This is some minx’s token, and I must take out the work. There, give it your hobby-horse. (Giving Cassio the napkin) Wheresoever you had it, I’ll take out no work on’t.
CASSIO	How now, my sweet Bianca, how now, how now?
OTHELLO	(aside) By heaven, that should be my handkerchief.
BIANCA	An you’ll come to supper tonight, you may. An you will not, come when you are next prepared for.
(didascalia)	Exit
IAGO	After her, after her.
CASSIO	Faith, I must, she’ll rail in the streets else.
IAGO	Will you sup there?
CASSIO	Faith, I intend so.
IAGO	Well, I may chance to see you, for I would very fain speak with you.
CASSIO	Prithee, come, will you?
IAGO	Go to, say no more.
(didascalia)	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?
OTHELLO	Was that mine?
IAGO	Yours, by this hand. And to see how he prizes the foolish woman your wife. She gave it him, and he hath given it his whore.
OTHELLO	I would have him nine years a-killing. A fine woman, a fair woman, a sweet woman.
IAGO	Nay, you must forget that.
OTHELLO	Ay, let her rot and perish, and be damned tonight, for she shall not live. No, my heart is turned to stone; I strike it, and it hurts my hand. O, the world hath not a sweeter creature! She might lie by an emperor’s side, and command him tasks.
IAGO	Nay, that’s not your way.
OTHELLO	Hang her, I do but say what she is—so delicate with her needle, an admirable musician. O, she will sing the savageness out of a bear! Of so high and plenteous wit and invention.
IAGO	She’s the worse for all this.
OTHELLO	O, a thousand, a thousand times! And then of so gentle a condition.
IAGO	Ay, too gentle.
OTHELLO	Nay, that’s certain. But yet the pity of it, Iago. O, Iago, the pity of it, Iago!
IAGO	If you are so fond over her iniquity, give her patent to offend; for if it touch not you, it comes near nobody.
OTHELLO	I will chop her into messes. Cuckold me!
IAGO	O, ’tis foul in her.
OTHELLO	With mine officer.
IAGO	That’s fouler.
OTHELLO	Get me some poison, Iago, this night. I’ll not expostulate with her, lest her body and beauty unprovide my mind again. This night, Iago.
IAGO	Do it not with poison. Strangle her in her bed, even the bed she hath contaminated.
OTHELLO	Good, good, the justice of it pleases, very good.
IAGO	And for Cassio, let me be his undertaker. You shall hear more by midnight.
OTHELLO	Excellent good. A trumpet What trumpet is that same?
IAGO	I warrant, something from Venice.
(didascalia)	Enter Lodovico, Desdemona, and attendants
IAGO	’Tis Lodovico. This comes from the Duke. See, your wife’s with him.
LODOVICO	God save the worthy general.
OTHELLO	With all my heart, sir.
LODOVICO	(giving Othello a letter) The Duke and the senators of Venice greet you.
OTHELLO	I kiss the instrument of their pleasures. He reads the letter
DESDEMONA	And what’s the news, good cousin Lodovico?
IAGO	(to Lodovico) I am very glad to see you, signor. 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 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, Deputing Cassio in his government.
DESDEMONA	By my troth, I am glad on’t.
OTHELLO	Indeed!
DESDEMONA	My lord?
OTHELLO	(to Desdemona) I am glad to see you mad.
DESDEMONA	Why, sweet Othello!
OTHELLO	Devil! He strikes her
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. OTHELLOO, devil, devil! If that the earth could teem with woman’s tears, Each drop she falls would prove a crocodile. Out of my sight!
DESDEMONA	(going) I will not stay to offend you.
LODOVICO	Truly, an obedient lady. I do beseech your lordship call her back.
OTHELLO	Mistress!
DESDEMONA	(returning) My lord?
OTHELLO	(to Lodovico) 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. (To Desdemona) Proceed you in your tears. (To Lodovico) Concerning this, sir—(To Desdemona) O well painted passion! (To Lodovico) I am commanded home. (To Desdemona) Get you away. I’ll send for you anon. (To Lodovico) Sir, I obey the mandate, And will return to Venice. (To Desdemona) Hence, avaunt!
(didascalia)	Exit Desdemona
OTHELLO	(To Lodovico) 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!
(didascalia)	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 his fault? IAGOAlas, 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.
(didascalia)	Exeunt

Atto 4, Scena 2

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	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 ’em.
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.
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 ha’ 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.
(didascalia)	Exit Emilia
OTHELLO	She says enough, yet she’s a simple bawd That cannot say as much. This is a subtle whore, A closet lock and key of villainous secrets, And yet she’ll kneel and pray—I ha’ seen her do’t.
(didascalia)	Enter Desdemona and Emilia
DESDEMONA	My lord, what is your will?
OTHELLO	Pray you, 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 anybody come. Your mystery, your mystery—nay, dispatch.
(didascalia)	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-damned: Swear thou art honest.
DESDEMONA	Heaven doth truly know it. 40
OTHELLO	Heaven truly knows that thou art false as hell.
DESDEMONA	To whom, my lord? With whom? How am I false?
OTHELLO	(weeping) 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 An instrument of this your calling back, Lay not your blame on me. If you have lost him, I have lost him too.
OTHELLO	Had it pleased God To try me with affliction; had He rained All kind of sores and shames on my bare head, 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 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 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-lipped cherubin, Ay, here 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 hushed within the hollow mine of earth And will not hear’t. What committed?
DESDEMONA	By heaven, you do me wrong.
OTHELLO	Are not you a strumpet?
DESDEMONA	No, as I am a Christian. If to preserve this vessel for my lord From any other foul unlawful touch Be not to be a strumpet, I am none.
OTHELLO	What, not a whore?
DESDEMONA	No, as I shall be 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. (Calling) You, mistress, That have the office opposite to Saint Peter And keeps the gate of hell,
(didascalia)	Enter Emilia
OTHELLO	you, you, ay, you. We ha’ done our course. (Giving money) There’s money for your pains. I pray you, turn the key and keep our counsel.
(didascalia)	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 ha’ none. Do not talk to me, Emilia. I cannot weep, nor answers 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.
(didascalia)	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?
(didascalia)	Enter Iago and Emilia,
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 ha’ chid me so, for, in good faith, I am a child to chiding.
IAGO	What is the matter, lady?
EMILIA	Alas, Iago, my lord hath so bewhored her, Thrown such despite and heavy terms upon her, That true hearts cannot bear it.
DESDEMONA	Am I that name, Iago?
IAGO	What name, fair lady?
DESDEMONA	Such as she said my lord did say I was.
EMILIA	He called her whore. A beggar in his drink Could not have laid such terms upon his callet.
IAGO	Why did he so?
DESDEMONA	I do not know. I am sure I am none such.
IAGO	Do not weep, do not weep. Alas the day!
EMILIA	Hath she forsook so many noble matches, Her father and her country and her friends, To be called 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 hanged if some eternal villain, Some busy and insinuating rogue, Some cogging, cozening slave, to get some office, Have not devised this slander. I will be hanged else.
IAGO	Fie, there is no such man. It is impossible.
DESDEMONA	If any such there be, heaven pardon him.
EMILIA	A halter pardon him, and hell gnaw his bones! Why should he call her whore? Who keeps her company? What place, what time, what form, what likelihood? The Moor’s abused by some most villainous knave, Some base, notorious knave, some scurvy fellow. O heaven, that such companions thou’dst unfold, And put in every honest hand a whip To lash the rascals naked through the world, Even from the east to th’ west!
IAGO	Speak within door.
EMILIA	O, fie upon them. Some such squire he was That turned your wit the seamy side without, And made you to suspect me with the Moor.
IAGO	You are a fool. Go to.
DESDEMONA	O God, 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. She kneels 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. [She rises] 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	It is but so, I warrant.
(didascalia)	Flourish within
IAGO	Hark how these instruments summon you to supper. The messengers of Venice stays the meat. Go in, and weep not. All things shall be well.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Desdemona and Emilia
(didascalia)	Enter Roderigo
IAGO	How now, Roderigo?
RODERIGO	I do not find that thou deal’st justly with me.
IAGO	What in the contrary?
RODERIGO	Every day thou daff‘st me with some device, Iago, and rather, as it seems to me now, keep’st from me all conveniency than suppliest me with the least advantage of hope. I will indeed no longer endure it, nor am I yet persuaded to put up in peace what already I have foolishly suffered.
IAGO	Will you hear me, Roderigo?
RODERIGO	Faith, I have heard too much, for your words and performances are no kin together.
IAGO	You charge me most unjustly.
RODERIGO	With naught but truth. I have wasted myself out of my means. The jewels you have had from me to deliver Desdemona would half have corrupted a votarist. You have told me she hath received ’em, and returned me expectations and comforts of sudden respect and acquaintance, but I find none. 195
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 fopped in it.
IAGO	Very well.
RODERIGO	I tell you ’tis not very well. I will make myself known to Desdemona. If she will return me my jewels, I will give over my suit and repent my unlawful solicitation. If not, assure yourself I will seek satisfaction of you.
IAGO	You have said now.
RODERIGO	Ay, and said nothing but what I protest intendment of doing.
IAGO	Why, now I see there’s mettle in thee, and even from this instant do build on thee a better opinion than ever before. Give me thy hand, Roderigo. Thou hast taken against me a most just exception, but yet I protest I have dealt most directly in thy affair.
RODERIGO	It hath not appeared.
IAGO	I grant, indeed, it hath not appeared, and your suspicion is not without wit and judgement. But, Roderigo, if thou hast that in thee indeed which I have greater reason to believe now than ever—I mean purpose, courage, and vatour—this night show it. If thou the next night following enjoy not Desdemona, take me from this world with treachery, and devise engines for my life.
RODERIGO	Well, what is it? Is it within reason and compass?
IAGO	Sir, there is especial commission come from Venice to depute Cassio in Othello’s place.
RODERIGO	Is that true? Why then, Othello and Desdemona return again to Venice.
IAGO	O no, he goes into Mauritania, and takes away with him the fair Desdemona, unless his abode be lingered here by some accident, wherein none can be so determinate as the removing of Cassio.
RODERIGO	How do you mean‘removing’ of him?
IAGO	Why, by making him uncapable of Othello’s place—knocking out his brains.
RODERIGO	And that you would have me to do.
IAGO	Ay, if you dare do yourself a profit and a right. He sups tonight with a harlotry, and thither will I go to him. He knows not yet of his honourable fortune. If you will watch his going thence, which I will fashion to fall out between twelve and one, you may take him at your pleasure. I will be near, to second your attempt, and he shall fall between us. Come, stand not amazed at it, but go along with me. I will show you such a necessity in his death that you shall think yourself bound to put it on him. It is now high supper-time, and the night grows to waste. About it.
RODERIGO	I will hear further reason for this.
IAGO	And you shall be satisfied.
(didascalia)	Exeunt

Atto 4, Scena 3

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Enter Othello, Desdemona, Lodovico, Emilia, and attendants
LODOVICO	I do beseech you, sir, trouble yourself no further.
OTHELLO	O, pardon me, ’twill do me good to walk.
LODOVICO	(to Desdemona) Madam, good night. I humbly thank your ladyship.
DESDEMONA	Your honour is most welcome.
OTHELLO	Will you walk, sir? O, Desdemona!
DESDEMONA	My lord?
OTHELLO	Get you to bed on th’instant. I will be returned forthwith. Dismiss your attendant there. Look’t be done.
DESDEMONA	I will, my lord.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Othello, Lodovico, and attendants
EMILIA	How goes it now? He looks gentler than he did.
DESDEMONA	He says he will return incontinent. He hath commanded me to go to bed, And bid me to dismiss you.
EMILIA	Dismiss me?
DESDEMONA	It was his bidding. Therefore, good Emilia, Give me my nightly wearing, and adieu. is We must not now displease him.
EMILIA	I would you had never seen him.
DESDEMONA	So would not I. My love doth so approve him That even his stubbornness, his checks, his frowns— Prithee unpin me—have grace and favour in them. Emilia helps Desdemona to undress
EMILIA	I have laid those sheets you bade me on the bed.
DESDEMONA	All’s one. Good faith, how foolish are our minds! If I do die before thee, prithee shroud me In one of these same sheets.
EMILIA	Come, come, you talk.
DESDEMONA	My mother had a maid called Barbary. She was in love, and he she loved proved mad And did forsake her. She had a song of willow. An old thing ’twas, but it expressed her fortune, And she died singing it. That song tonight Will not go from my mind. I have much to do But to go hang my head all at one side And sing it, like poor Barbary. Prithee, dispatch.
EMILIA	Shall I go fetch your nightgown?
DESDEMONA	No. Unpin me here. This Lodovico is a proper man.
EMILIA	A very handsome man.
DESDEMONA	He speaks well.
EMILIA	I know a lady in Venice would have walked barefoot to Palestine for a touch of his nether lip.
DESDEMONA	(sings) ‘The poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree, Sing all a green willow. Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee, Sing willow, willow, willow. The fresh streams ran by her and murmured her moans, Sing willow, willow, willow. Her salt tears fell from her and softened the stones, Sing willow’— Lay by these.— ‘willow, willow.’ Prithee, hie thee. He’ll come anon. ‘Sing all a green willow must be my garland. ‘Let nobody blame him, his scorn I approve’— Nay, that’s not next. Hark, who is’t that knocks?
EMILIA	It’s the wind.
DESDEMONA	(sings) ‘I called my love false love, but what said he then? Sing willow, willow, willow. If I court more women, you’ll couch with more men.’ So, get thee gone. Good night. Mine eyes do itch. 56 Doth that bode weeping?
EMILIA	’Tis neither here nor there.
DESDEMONA	I have heard it said so. O, these men, these men! Dost thou in conscience think—ten me, Emilia— That there be women do abuse their husbands In such gross kind? EMILIAThere be some such, no question.
DESDEMONA	Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world?
EMILIA	Why, would not you?
DESDEMONA	No, by this heavenly light.
EMILIA	Nor I neither, by this heavenly light. I might do’t as well i’th’ dark.
DESDEMONA	Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world?
EMILIA	The world’s a huge thing. It is a great price for a small vice.
DESDEMONA	In truth, I think thou wouldst not.
EMILIA	In truth, I think I should, and undo’t when I had done. Marry, I would not do such a thing for a joint ring, nor for measures of lawn, nor for gowns, petticoats, nor caps, nor any petty exhibition; but for all the whole world? Ud’s pity, who would not make her husband a cuckold to make him a monarch? I should venture purgatory for’t.
DESDEMONA	Beshrew me if I would do such a wrong For the whole world.
EMILIA	Why, the wrong is but a wrong i‘th’ world, and having the world for your labour, ’tis a wrong in your own world, and you might quickly make it right.
DESDEMONA	I do not think there is any such woman.
EMILIA	Yes, a dozen, and as many To th’ vantage as would store the world they played for. But I do think it is their husbands’ faults If wives do fall. Say that they slack their duties, And pour our treasures into foreign laps, Or else break out in peevish jealousies, Throwing restraint upon us; or say they strike us, Or scant our former having in despite: Why, we have galls; and though we have some grace, Yet have we some revenge. Let husbands know Their wives have sense like them. They see, and smell, And have their palates both for sweet and sour, As husbands have. What is it that they do When they change us for others? Is it sport? I think it is. And doth affection breed it? I think it doth. Is’t frailty that thus errs? It is so, too. And have not we affections, Desires for sport, and frailty, as men have? Then let them use us well, else let them know The ills we do, their ills instruct us so.
DESDEMONA	Good night, good night. God me such uses send Not to pick bad from bad, but by bad mend! Exeunt

Atto 5, Scena 1

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Enter Iago and Roderigo
IAGO	Here, stand behind this bulk. Straight will he come. Wear thy good rapier bare, and put it home. Quick, quick, fear nothing. I’ll be at thy elbow. It makes us or it mars us. Think on that, And fix most firm thy resolution.
RODERIGO	Be near at hand. I may miscarry in’t.
IAGO	Here at thy hand. Be bold, and take thy stand.
RODERIGO	(aside) I have no great devotion to the deed, And yet he hath given me satisfying reasons. ’Tis but a man gone. Forth my sword—he dies!
IAGO	(aside) I have rubbed this young quat almost to the sense, And he grows angry. Now, whether he kill Cassio Or Cassio him, or each do kill the other, Every way makes my gain. live Roderigo, He calls me to a restitution large Of gold and jewels that I bobbed from him As gifts to Desdemona. It must not be. If Cassio do remain, He hath a daily beauty in his life That makes me ugly; and besides, the Moor May unfold me to him-there stand I in much peril. No, he must die. But so, I hear him coming.
(didascalia)	Enter Cassio
RODERIGO	I know his gait, ’tis he. (Attacking Cassio) Villain, thou diest.
CASSIO	That thrust had been mine enemy indeed, But that my coat is better than thou know’st. I will make proof of thine. He stabs Roderigo, who falls
RODERIGO	O, I am slain! Iago wounds Cassio in the leg from behind. Exit Iago
CASSIO	(falling) I am maimed for ever. Help, ho, murder, murder!
(didascalia)	Enter Othello [above]
OTHELLO	The voice of Cassio. Iago keeps his word.
RODERIGO	O, villain that I am!
OTHELLO	It is even so.
CASSIO	O, help, ho! Light, a surgeon!
OTHELLO	’Tis he. O brave Iago, honest and just, That hast such noble sense of thy friend’s wrong— Thou teachest me. Minion, your dear lies dead, And your unblessed fate hies. Strumpet, I come. Forth of my heart those charms, thine eyes, are blotted. Thy bed, lust-stained, shall with lust’s blood be spotted.
(didascalia)	Exit
(didascalia)	Enter Lodovico and Graziano
CASSIO	What ho, no watch, no passage? Murder, murder!
GRAZIANO	’Tis some mischance. The voice is very direful.
CASSIO	O, help!
LODOVICO	Hark.
RODERIGO	O wretched villain!
LODOVICO	Two or three groan. ’Tis heavy night. These may be counterfeits. Let’s think’t unsafe To come into the cry without more help.
RODERIGO	Nobody come? Then shall I bleed to death.
(didascalia)	Enter Iago with a light
LODOVICO	Hark.
GRAZIANO	Here’s one comes in his shirt, with light and weapons.
IAGO	Who’s there? Whose noise is this that cries on murder?
LODOVICO	We do not know.
IAGO	Do not you hear a cry?
CASSIO	Here, here. For heaven’s sake, help me.
IAGO	What’s the matter?
GRAZIANO	(to Lodovico) This is Othello’s ensign, as I take it.
LODOVICO	The same indeed, a very valiant fellow.
IAGO	(to Cassio) What are you here that cry so grievously?
CASSIO	Iago—O, I am spoiled, undone by villains. Give me some help.
IAGO	O me, lieutenant, what villains have done this?
CASSIO	I think that one of them is hereabout And cannot make away.
IAGO	O treacherous villains! (To Lodovico and Graziano) What are you there? Come in and give some help.
RODERIGO	O, help me there!
CASSIO	That’s one of ’em.
IAGO	(stabbing Roderigo) O murderous slave! O villain!
RODERIGO	O damned Iago! O inhuman dog!
IAGO	Kill men i’th’ dark? Where be these bloody thieves? How silent is this town! Ho, murder, murder! (To Lodovico and Graziano) What may you be? Are you of good or evil?
LODOVICO	As you shall prove us, praise us.
IAGO	Signor Lodovico.
LODOVICO	He, sir.
IAGO	I cry you mercy. Here’s Cassio hurt by villains.
GRAZIANO	Cassio?
IAGO	How is’t, brother?
CASSIO	My leg is cut in two.
IAGO	Marry, heaven forbid! Light, gentlemen. I’ll bind it with my shirt.
(didascalia)	Enter Bianca
BIANCA	What is the matter, ho? Who is’t that cried?
IAGO	Who is’t that cried?
BIANCA	O my dear Cassio, My sweet Cassio, O, Cassio, Cassio!
IAGO	O notable strumpet! Cassio, may you suspect Who they should be that have thus mangled you? 80
CASSIO	No.
GRAZIANO	I am sorry to find you thus. I have been to seek you.
IAGO	Lend me a garter. So. O for a chair, To bear him easily hence!
BIANCA	Alas, he faints. O, Cassio, Cassio, Cassio!
IAGO	Gentlemen all, I do suspect this trash To be a party in this injury. Patience a while, good Cassio. Come, come, Lend me a light. (Going to Roderigo) Know we this face or no? Alas, my friend, and my dear countryman. Roderigo? No—yes, sure—O heaven, Roderigo!
GRAZIANO	What, of Venice?
IAGO	Even he, sir. Did you know him?
GRAZIANO	Know him? Ay.
IAGO	Signor Graziano, I cry your gentle pardon. These bloody accidents must excuse my manners That so neglected you.
GRAZIANO	I am glad to see you.
IAGO	How do you, Cassio? O, a chair, a chair!
GRAZIANO	Roderigo.
IAGO	He, he, ’tis he.
(didascalia)	Enter attendants with a chair
IAGO	O, that’s well said, the chair! Some good man bear him carefully from hence. I’ll fetch the general’s surgeon. (To Bianca) For you, mistress, Save you your labour. He that lies slain here, Cassio, Was my dear friend. What malice was between you?
CASSIO	None in the world, nor do I know the man.
IAGO	(to Bianca) What, look you pale? (To attendants) O, bear him out o’th’ air. (To Lodovico and Graziano) Stay you, good gentlemen.
(didascalia)	Exeunt attendants with Cassio in the chair [and with Roderigo’s body]
IAGO	(To Bianca) Look you pale, mistress? (To Lodovico and Graziano) Do you perceive the ghastness of her eye? (To Bianca) Nay, an you stare we shall hear more anon. (To Lodovico and Graziano) Behold her well; I pray you look upon her. Do you see, gentlemen? Nay, guiltiness Will speak, though tongues were out of use.
(didascalia)	Enter Emilia
EMILIA	Alas, what is the matter? What is the matter, husband?
IAGO	Cassio hath here been set on in the dark By Roderigo and fellows that are scaped. He’s almost slain, and Roderigo dead.
EMILIA	Alas, good gentleman! Alas, good Cassio!
IAGO	This is the fruits of whoring. Prithee, Emilia, Go know of Cassio where he supped tonight. (To Bianca) What, do you shake at that?
BIANCA	He supped at my house, but I therefore shake not.
IAGO	O, did he so? I charge you go with me.
EMILIA	(to Bianca) O, fie upon thee, strumpet!
BIANCA	I am no strumpet, but of life as honest As you that thus abuse me.
EMILIA	As I? Fough, fie upon thee!
IAGO	Kind gentlemen, let’s go see poor Cassio dressed. (To Bianca) Come, mistress, you must tell’s another tale. Emilia, run you to the citadel And tell my lord and lady what hath happed. Will you go on afore?
(didascalia)	Exit Emilia
IAGO	(Aside) This is the night That either makes me or fordoes me quite. Exeunt

Atto 5, Scena 2

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Enter Othello with a light. He draws back a curtain, revealing Desdemona asleep in her bed
OTHELLO	It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul. Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars. It is the cause. Yet I’ll not shed her blood, Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow, And smooth as monumental alabaster. Yet she must die, else she’ll betray more men. Put out the light, and then put out the light. If I quench thee, thou flaming minister, I can again thy former light restore Should I repent me; but once put out thy light, Thou cunning‘st pattern of excelling nature, I know not where is that Promethean heat That can thy light relume. When I have plucked thy rose I cannot give it vital growth again. It needs must wither. I’ll smell thee on the tree. [He kisses her] O balmy breath, that dost almost persuade Justice to break her sword! One more, one more. Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee And love thee after. One more, and that’s the last. He kisses her So sweet was ne’er so fatal. I must weep, But they are cruel tears. This sorrow’s heavenly, It strikes where it doth love. She wakes.
DESDEMONA	Who’s there? Othello?
OTHELLO	Ay, Desdemona.
DESDEMONA	Will you come to bed, my lord? OTHELLOHave you prayed tonight, Desdemon?
DESDEMONA	Ay, my lord.
OTHELLO	If you bethink yourself of any crime Unreconciled as yet to heaven and grace, Solicit for it straight.
DESDEMONA	Alack, my lord, what may you mean by that?
OTHELLO	Well, do it, and be brief. I will walk by. I would not kill thy unprepared spirit. No, heavens forfend! I would not kill thy soul.
DESDEMONA	Talk you of killing?
OTHELLO	Ay, I do.
DESDEMONA	Then heaven Have mercy on me.
OTHELLO	Amen, with all my heart.
DESDEMONA	If you say so, I hope you will not kill me.
OTHELLO	Hum!
DESDEMONA	And yet I fear you, for you’re fatal then When your eyes roll so. Why I should fear I know not, Since guiltiness I know not, but yet I feel I fear.
OTHELLO	Think on thy sins.
DESDEMONA	They are loves I bear to you.
OTHELLO	Ay, and for that thou diest.
DESDEMONA	That death’s unnatural that kills for loving. Alas, why gnaw you so your nether lip? Some bloody passion shakes your very frame. These are portents, but yet I hope, I hope They do not point on me.
OTHELLO	Peace, and be still.
DESDEMONA	I will so. What’s the matter?
OTHELLO	That handkerchief Which I so loved and gave thee, thou gav’st to Cassio.
DESDEMONA	No, by my life and soul. Send for the man And ask him.
OTHELLO	Sweet soul, take heed, take heed of perjury. Thou art on thy deathbed.
DESDEMONA	Ay, but not yet to die.
OTHELLO	Presently. Therefore confess thee freely of thy sin, For to deny each article with oath Cannot remove nor choke the strong conception That I do groan withal. Thou art to die.
DESDEMONA	Then Lord have mercy on me.
OTHELLO	I say amen.
DESDEMONA	And have you mercy, too. I never did Offend you in my life, never loved Cassio But with such general warranty of heaven As I might love. I never gave him token.
OTHELLO	By heaven, I saw my handkerchief in’s hand. O perjured woman! Thou dost stone my heart, And makes me call what I intend to do A murder, which I thought a sacrifice. I saw the handkerchief.
DESDEMONA	He found it, then. I never gave it him. Send for him hither. Let him confess a truth.
OTHELLO	He hath confessed.
DESDEMONA	What, my lord?
OTHELLO	That he hath used thee.
DESDEMONA	How, unlawfully?
OTHELLO	Ay.
DESDEMONA	He will not say so. OTHELLONo, his mouth is stopped. Honest Iago hath ta’en order for’t.
DESDEMONA	O, my fear interprets! What, is he dead?
OTHELLO	Had all his hairs been lives, my great revenge Had stomach for em all.
DESDEMONA	(weeping) Alas, he is betrayed, and I undone.
OTHELLO	Out, strumpet! Weep’st thou for him to my face?
DESDEMONA	O, banish me, my lord, but kill me not.
OTHELLO	(attacking her) Down, strumpet.
DESDEMONA	Kill me tomorrow; let me live tonight.
OTHELLO	Nay, an you strive—
DESDEMONA	But half an hour.
OTHELLO	Being done, there is no pause.
DESDEMONA	But while I say one prayer.
OTHELLO	It is too late. He smothers her
DESDEMONAO	Lord, Lord, Lord! Emilia at the door
EMILIA	(within) My lord, my lord, what ho, my lord, my lord!
OTHELLO	What noise is this? Not dead? Not yet quite dead? I that am cruel am yet merciful. I would not have thee linger in thy pain. So, so.
EMILIA	(within) What ho, my lord, my lord! OTHELLOWho’s there?
EMILIA	(within) O, good my lord, I would speak a word with you.
OTHELLO	(calling) Yes.—‘Tis Emilia. (Calling) By and by!—She’s dead. ’Tis like she comes to speak of Cassio’s death. The noise was high. Ha! No more moving. Still as the grave. Shall she come in? Were’t good? I think she stirs again. No. What’s best to do? If she come in, she’ll sure speak to my wife. My wife, my wife! What wife? I ha’ no wife. O insupportable, O heavy hour! Methinks it should be now a huge eclipse Of sun and moon, and that th’affrighted globe Should yawn at alteration.
EMILIA	(within) I do beseech you That I may speak with you. O, good my lord!
OTHELLO	I had forgot thee.—O, come in, Emilia.— Soft, by and by. Let me the curtains draw. He closes the bed-curtains Where art thou? He opens the door. Enter Emilia What’s the matter with thee now?
EMILIA	O my good lord, yonder’s foul murder’s done.
OTHELLO	What, now?
EMILIA	But now, my lord.
OTHELLO	It is the very error of the moon, She comes more nearer earth than she was wont, And makes men mad.
EMILIA	Cassio, my lord, hath killed a young Venetian Called Roderigo.
OTHELLO	Roderigo killed And Cassio killed?
EMILIA	No, Cassio is not killed.
OTHELLO	Not Cassio killed? Then murder’s out of tune, And sweet revenge grows harsh.
DESDEMONA	O, falsely, falsely murdered!
EMILIA	O Lord, what cry is that?
OTHELLO	That? What?
EMILIA	Out and alas, that was my lady’s voice!
(didascalia)	She opens the bed-curtains
EMILIA	Help, help, ho, help ! O lady, speak again! Sweet Desdemona, O sweet mistress, speak!
DESDEMONA	A guiltless death I die.
EMILIA	O, who hath done this deed?
DESDEMONA	Nobody, I myself. Farewell. Commend me to my kind lord. O, farewell! She dies
OTHELLO	Why, how should she be murdered?
EMILIA	Alas, who knows?
OTHELLO	You heard her say herself it was not I.
EMILIA	She said so, I must needs report the truth.
OTHELLO	She’s like a liar gone to burning hell. ’Twas I that killed her.
EMILIA	O, the more angel she, and you the blacker devil!
OTHELLO	She turned to folly, and she was a whore.
EMILIA	Thou dost belie her, and thou art a devil.
OTHELLO	She was false as water.
EMILIA	Thou art rash as fire To say that she was false. O, she was heavenly true!
OTHELLO	Cassio did top her. Ask thy husband else. O, I were damned beneath all depth in hell But that I did proceed upon just grounds To this extremity! Thy husband knew it all.
EMILIA	My husband?
OTHELLO	Thy husband.
EMILIA	That she was false to wedlock?
OTHELLO	Ay, with Cassio. Had she been true, If heaven would make me such another world Of one entire and perfect chrysolite I’d not have sold her for it.
EMILIA	My husband?
OTHELLO	Ay, ’twas he that told me on her first. An honest man he is, and hates the slime That sticks on filthy deeds.
EMILIA	My husband?
OTHELLO	What needs this iterance? Woman, I say thy husband.
EMILIA	O mistress, villainy hath made mocks with love. My husband say she was false?
OTHELLO	He, woman. I say thy husband. Dost understand the word? My friend, thy husband, honest, honest Iago.
EMILIA	If he say so, may his pernicious soul Rot half a grain a day. He lies to th’ heart. She was too fond of her most filthy bargain.
OTHELLO	Ha?
EMILIA	Do thy worst. This deed of thine is no more worthy heaven Than thou wast worthy her.
OTHELLO	Peace, you were best.
EMILIA	Thou hast not half that power to do me harm As I have to be hurt. O gull, O dolt, As ignorant as dirt! Thou hast done a deed— I care not for thy sword, I’ll make thee known Though I lost twenty lives. Help, help, hot Help! The Moor hath killed my mistress. Murder, murder!
(didascalia)	Enter Montano, Graziano, and Iago
MONTANO	What is the matter? How now, general?
EMILIA	O, are you come, Iago? You have done well, That men must lay their murders on your neck.
GRAZIANO	What is the matter?
EMILIA	(to Iago) Disprove this villain if thou beest a man. He says thou told‘st him that his wife was false. I know thou didst not. Thou’rt not such a villain. Speak, for my heart is full.
IAGO	I told him what I thought, and told no more Than what he found himself was apt and true.
EMILIA	But did you ever tell him she was false?
IACO	I did.
EMILIA	You told a lie, an odious, damnèd lie, Upon my soul a lie, a wicked lie. She false with Cassio? Did you say with Cassio?
IAGO	With Cassio, mistress. Go to, charm your tongue.
EMILIA	I will not charm my tongue. I am bound to speak. My mistress here lies murdered in her bed.
(didascalia)	MONTANO and GRAZIANO O heavens forfend!
EMILIA	(to Iago) And your reports have set the murder on.
OTHELLO	Nay, stare not, masters. It is true indeed.
GRAZIANO	’Tis a strange truth.
MONTANO	O monstrous act!
EMILIA	Villainy, villainy, villainy! I think upon’t, I think. I smell’t. O villainy! I thought so then. I’ll kill myself for grief. O villainy, villainy!
IAGO	What, are you mad? I charge you get you home.
EMILIA	Good gentlemen, let me have leave to speak. ‘Tis proper I obey him, but not now. Perchance, Iago, I will ne’er go home.
OTHELLO	O, O, O! Othello falls on the bed
EMILIA	Nay, lay thee down and roar, For thou hast killed the sweetest innocent That e’er did lift up eye.
(didascalia)	OTHELLO rising O, she was foul!
EMILIA	(To Graziano) I scarce did know you, uncle. There lies your niece, Whose breath indeed these hands have newly stopped. I know this act shows horrible and grim
GRAZIANO	Poor Desdemon, I am glad thy father’s dead. Thy match was mortal to him, and pure grief Shore his old thread in twain. Did he live now This sight would make him do a desperate turn, Yea, curse his better angel from his side, And fall to reprobance.
OTHELLO	’Tis pitiful. But yet Iago knows That she with Cassio hath the act of shame A thousand times committed. Cassio confessed it, And she did gratify his amorous works With that recognizance and pledge of love Which I first gave her. I saw it in his hand. It was a handkerchief, an antique token My father gave my mother.
EMILIA	O God! O heavenly God!
IAGO	’Swounds, hold your peace!
EMILIA	‘Twill out, ’twill out. I peace? No, I will speak as liberal as the north. Let heaven, and men, and devils, let ’em all, All, all cry shame against me, yet I’ll speak.
IAGO	Be wise and get you home.
EMILIA	I will not. Iago draws his sword
GRAZIANO	(to Iago) Fie, your sword upon a woman?
EMILIA	O thou dull Moor, that handkerchief thou speak’st of I found by fortune and did give my husband, For often, with a solemn earnestness— More than indeed belonged to such a trifle— He begged of me to steal’t.
IAGO	Villainous whore!
EMILIA	She give it Cassio? No, alas, I found it, And I did give’t my husband.
IAGO	Filth, thou liest.
EMILIA	By heaven I do not, I do not, gentlemen. O murderous coxcomb! What should such a fool Do with so good a wife?
OTHELLO	Are there no stones in heaven But what serves for the thunder? Precious villain! The Moor runs at lago. Montano disarms Othello. Iago wounds his wife
GRAZIANO	The woman falls. Sure he hath killed his wife.
EMILIA	Ay, ay. O, lay me by my mistress’ side!
(didascalia)	Exit lago
GRAZIANO	He’s gone, but his wife’s killed.
MONTANO	‘Tis a notorious villain. Take you this weapon Which I have here recovered from the Moor. Come, guard the door without. Let him not pass, But kill him rather. I’ll after that same villain, For ’tis a damned slave. Exeunt Montano and Graziano
OTHELLO	I am not valiant neither, But every puny whipster gets my sword. But why should honour outlive honesty? Let it go all.
EMILIA	What did thy song bode, lady? Hark, canst thou hear me? I will play the swan, And die in music. (Sings) ‘Willow, willow, willow.’— Moor, she was chaste. She loved thee, cruel Moor. So come my soul to bliss as I speak true. So, speaking as I think, alas, I die. She dies
OTHELLO	I have another weapon in this chamber. It was a sword of Spain, the ice-brook’s temper. O, here it is. (Calling) Uncle, I must come forth.
GRAZIANO	(within) If thou attempt it, it will cost thee dear. Thou hast no weapon, and perforce must suffer.
OTHELLO	Look in upon me then, and speak with me, Or, naked as I am, I will assault thee.
(didascalia)	Enter Graziano
GRAZIANO	What is the matter?
OTHELLO	Behold, I have a weapon; A better never did itself sustain Upon a soldier’s thigh. I have seen the day That, with this little arm and this good sword, I have made my way through more impediments Than twenty times your stop. But O, vain boast! Who can control his fate? ‘Tis not so now. Be not afraid, though you do see me weaponed. Here is my journey’s end, here is my butt And very sea-mark of my utmost sail. Do you go back dismayed? ’Tis a lost fear. Man but a rush against Othello’s breast And he retires. Where should Othello go? (To Desdemona) Now, how dost thou look now? O ill- starred wench, Pale as thy smock! When we shall meet at count This look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven, And fiends will snatch at it.
(didascalia)	He touches her
OTHELLO	Cold, cold, my girl, Even like thy chastity. O cursed, cursed slavel Whip me, ye devils, From the possession of this heavenly sight. Blow me about in winds, roast me in sulphur, Wash me in steep-down gulfs of liquid fire! O Desdemon! Dead Desdemon! Dead! 0! 0!
(didascalia)	Enter Lodovico, Montano, Iago guarded by officers, with Cassio in a chair
LODOVICO	Where is this rash and most unfortunate man?
OTHELLO	That’s he that was Othello. Here I am.
LODOVICO	Where is that viper? Bring the villain forth.
OTHELLO	I look down towards his feet, but that’s a fable. (To Iago) If that thou beest a devil I cannot kill thee. He wounds Iago
LODOVICO	Wrench his sword from him. Officers disarm Othello
IAGO	I bleed, sir, but not killed.
OTHELLO	I am not sorry, neither. I’d have thee live, For in my sense ’tis happiness to die.
LODOVICO	O thou Othello, that was once so good, Fall’n in the practice of a cursed slave, What shall be said to thee?
OTHELLO	Why, anything; An honourable murderer, if you will, For naught I did in hate, but all in honour.
LODOVICO	This wretch hath part confessed his villainy. Did you and he consent in Cassio’s death?
OTHELLO	Ay.
CASSIO	Dear general, I never gave you cause.
OTHELLO	I do believe it, and I ask your pardon. Will you, I pray, demand that demi-devil Why he hath thus ensnared my soul and body?
IAGO	Demand me nothing. What you know, you know. From this time forth I never will speak word.
LODOVICO	(to Iago) What, not to pray?
GRAZIANO	(to Iago) Torments will ope your lips.
OTHELLO	Well, thou dost best.
LODOVICO	Sir, you shall understand what hath befall’n, Which as, I think, you know not. Here is a letter, Found in the pocket of the slain Roderigo, And here another. The one of them imports The death of Cassio, to be undertook By Roderigo.
OTHELLO	O villain!
CASSIO	Most heathenish and most gross.
LODOVICO	Now here’s another discontented paper Found in his pocket too, and this it seems Roderigo meant to’ve sent this damned villain, But that, belike, Iago in the interim Came in and satisfied him.
OTHELLO	(to Iago) O thou pernicious caitiff! How came you, Cassio, by that handkerchief That was my wife’s?
CASSIO	I found it in my chamber, And he himself confessed it, but even now, That there he dropped it for a special purpose Which wrought to his desire.
OTHELLO	O fool, fool, fool!
CASSIO	There is besides in Roderigo’s letter How he upbraids Iago, that he made him Brave me upon the watch, whereon it came That I was cast; and even but now he spake After long seeming dead, Iago hurt him, Iago set him on.
LODOVICO	(to Othello) You must forsake this room and go with us. Your power and your command is taken off, And Cassio rules in Cyprus. For this slave, If there be any cunning cruelty That can torment him much and hold him long, It shall be his. You shall close prisoner rest Till that the nature of your fault be known To the Venetian state. (To officers) Come, bring away.
OTHELLO	Soft you, a word or two before you go. I have done the state some service, and they know’t. No more of that. I pray you, in your letters, When you shall these unlucky deeds relate, Speak of me as I am. Nothing extenuate, Nor set down aught in malice. Then must you speak Of one that loved not wisely but too well, Of one not easily jealous but, being wrought, Perplexed in the extreme; of one whose hand, Like the base Indian, threw a pearl away Richer than all his tribe; of one whose subdued eyes, Albeit unused to the melting mood, Drops tears as fast as the Arabian trees Their medicinable gum. Set you down this, And say besides that in Aleppo once, Where a malignant and a turbaned Turk Beat a Venetian and traduced the state, I took by th’ throat the circumcised dog And smote him thus. He stabs himself
LODOVICO	O bloody period!
GRAZIANO	All that is spoke is marred.
OTHELLO	(to Desdemona) I kissed thee ere I killed thee. No way but this: Killing myself, to die upon a kiss. He kisses Desdemona and dies
CASSIO	This did I fear, but thought he had no weapon, For he was great of heart.
LODOVICO	(to Iago) O Spartan dog, More fell than anguish, hunger, or the sea, Look on the tragic loading of this bed. This is thy work. The object poisons sight. Let it be hid.
(didascalia)	They close the bed-curtains
LODOVICO	Graziano, keep the house, And seize upon the fortunes of the Moor, For they succeed on you. (To Cassio) To you, Lord Governor, Remains the censure of this hellish villain. The time, the place, the torture, O, enforce it! Myself will straight aboard, and to the state This heavy act with heavy heart relate.
(didascalia)	Exeunt with Emilia’s bodyl
THE HISTORY OF KING	LEAR
THE QUARTO TEXT	King Lear first appeared in print in a quarto of 1608. A substantially different text appeared in the 1623 Folio. Until the first appearance of the Oxford text, editors, assuming that each of these early texts imperfectly represented a single play, conflated them. But research conducted mainly during the 1970s and 1980s confirms an earlier view that the 1608 quarto represents the play as Shakespeare originally wrote it, and the 1623 Folio as he substantially revised it. He revised other plays, too, but usually by making many small changes in the dialogue and adding or omitting passages, as in Hamlet, Troilus and Cressida, and Othello. For these plays we print the revised text in so far as it can be ascertained. But in King Lear revisions are not simply local but structural, too; conflation, as Harley Granville-Barker wrote, ‘may make for redundancy or confusion’, so we print an edited version of each text. The first, printed in the following pages, represents the play as Shakespeare first conceived it, probably before it was performed. The story of a king who, angry with the failure of his virtuous youngest daughter (Cordelia) to respond as he desires in a love-test, divides his kingdom between her two malevolent sisters (Gonoril and Regan), had been often told; Shakespeare would have come upon it in Holinshed’s Chronicles and in A Mirror for Magistrates while reading for his plays on English history. It is told also (though briefly) in Edmund Spenser’s Faerie Queene (Book 2, canto 10), and had been dramatized in a play of unknown authorship—The True Chronicle History of King Leir and his three daughters—published in 1605, but probably written some fifteen years earlier. This play particularly gave Shakespeare much, including suggestions for the characters of Lear’s loyal servant, Kent, and of Gonoril’s husband, Albany, and her steward, Oswald; for the storm; for Lear’s kneeling to Cordelia; and for many details of language. Nevertheless, his play is a highly original creation. Lear’s madness and the harrowing series of disasters in King Lear’s final stages are of Shakespeare’s invention, and he complicates the plot by adding the story (based on an episode of Sir Philip Sidney’s Arcadia) of Gloucester and his two sons, Edmund and Edgar. Edgar’s love and loyalty to the father who, failing to see the truth, has rejected him in favour of the villainous Edmund makes him a counterpart to Cordelia; and the horrific blinding of Gloucester brought about by Edmund creates a physical parallel to Lear’s madness which reaches its consummation in the scene (Sc. 20) at Dover Cliff when the mad and the blind old men commune together. The clear-eyed intensity of Shakespeare’s tragic vision in King Lear has been too much for some audiences, and Nahum Tate’s adaptation, which gave the play a happy ending, held the stage from 1681 to 1843; since then, increased understanding of Shakespeare’s stagecraft along with a greater seriousness in theatre audiences has assisted in the rehabilitation of a play that is now recognized as one of the profoundest of all artistic explorations of the human condition. In the text which follows, the Quarto scene numbers are followed by the equivalent Folio act and scene numbers in parentheses. There is no equivalent to Sc. 17 in the Folio.
THE PERSONS OF THE	PLAY LEAR, King of Britain GONORIL, Lear’s eldest daughter Duke of ALBANY, her husband REGAN, Lear’s second daughter Duke of CORNWALL, her husband CORDELIA, Lear’s youngest daughter Earl of KENT, later disguised as Caius Earl of GLOUCESTER EDGAR, elder son of Gloucester, later disguised as Tom o’ Bedlam EDMUND, bastard son of Gloucester
OLD	MAN, a tenant of Gloucester CURAN, Gloucester’s retainer Lear’s FOOL OSWALD, Gonoril’s steward Three SERVANTS of Cornwall DOCTOR, attendant on Cordelia Three CAPTAINS A HERALD A KNIGHT A MESSENGER Gentlemen, servants, soldiers, followers, trumpeters, others