Lod. He did not call: he's busy in the paper. Is there division 'twixt thy lord and Cassio? Des. A most unhappy one: I would do much To atone them, for the love I bear to Cassio. Oth. Fire and brimstone! Des. My lord? Oth. Are you wise? Des. What, is he angry? Lod. 'May be, the letter mov'd him ; For, as I think, they do command him home, Des. By my troth, I am glad on't. Des. My lord? Oth. I am glad to see you mad. Des. How, sweet Othello? [striking her. Oth. Devil!. Des. I have not deserv'd this. Lod. My lord, this would not be believ'd in Though I should swear I saw it.—'Tis very much; Oth. O devil, devil! If that the earth could team with woman's tears, Des. I will not stay to offend you. Lod. Truly, an obedient lady : I do beseech your lordship, call her back. Des. My lord? Oth. What would you with her, sir? Lod. Who, I, my lord? Iago. Alas, alas! It is not honesty in me, to speak What I have seen and known. You shall observe Lod. I am sorry, that I am deceiv'd in him. SCENE II. A ROOM IN THE CASTLE. Enter Othello and Emilia. Oth. You have seen nothing then? Emil. Never, my lord. Oth. Nor send you out o'the way? Oth. To fetch her fan, her gloves, her mask, Emil. I durst, my lord, to wager she is honest, Oth. Bid her come hither:-go. [exit Emilia. Oth. Ay; you did wish, that I would make A closet-lock-and-key of villainous secrets: [do't. her turn: Sir, she can turn, and turn, and yet go on, Lod. Is this the noble Moor, whom our full senate Call-all-in-all sufficient?-This the noble nature Iago. He is much chang'd. Lod. Are his wits safe? is he not light of brain? censure. Leave procreants alone, and shut the door; [erit Emilia. Oth. Why, what art thou? Oth. Come, swear it, damn thyself; Lest, being like one of heaven, the devils them- What he might be,-if, what he might, he is not, Swear-thou art honest. [damn'd, Oth. Heaven truly knows, that thou art false as hell. [am I false? Des. To whom, my lord? With whom? How Oth. O Desdemona!-away! away! away! Des. Alas, the heavy day! Why do you weep? Am I the occasion of these tears, my lord? If, haply, you my father do suspect, Lay not your blame on me; if you have lost him, Why, I have lost him too. Oth. Had it pleas'd heaven To try me with affliction; had he rain'd Des. I have none: Do not talk to me, Emilia; All kinds of sores, and shames, on my bare head; I cannot weep; nor answer I have none, But what should go by water. Pr'ythee, to-night, Yet could I bear that too; well, very well: Des. I hope, my noble lord esteems me honest. Oth. 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! Des. Alas, what ignorant sin have I com- Des. By heaven, you do me wrong. Oth. What, not a whore? Des. O, heaven forgive us! I took you for that cunning, whore of Venice, That have the office opposite to saint Peter, I pray you, turn the key, and keep our counsel. [exit. Emil. Here is a change, indeed! Iago. What is your pleasure, madam? How Iago. What's the matter, lady? Emil. Alas, Iago, my lord hath so bewhor'd her, Des. Am I that name, Iago? Des. Such as, she says, my lord did say I was drink, Could not have laid such terms upon his callet. Iago. Why did he so? Des. I do not know; I am sure, I am none such. Iago. Do not weep, do not weep: Alas, the day! Emil. Has she forsook so many noble matches, Her father, and her country, and her friends, To be call'd-whore? would it not make one Des. It is my wretched fortune. [weep? Iago. Beshrew him for it! How comes this trick upon him? Des. Nay, heaven doth know. Emil. I will be hang'd, if some eternal villain, Some busy and insinuating rogue, Some cogging cozening slave, to get some office, Emil. O, fie upon hira! some such squire he That turn'd your wit the seamy side without, And made you to suspect me with the Moor. Iago. You are a fool; go to. Des. O, good Iago, 14 How do you, madam? how do you, my good lady? What shall I do to win my lord again? [heaven, I know not how I lost him. Here I kneel:If e'er my will did trespass 'gainst his love, Either in discourse of thought, or actual deed; Or that mine eyes, mine ears, or any sense, Delighted them in any other form; Or that I do not yet, and ever did, And ever will,-though he do shake me off But never taint my love. I cannot say, whore; The business of the state does him offence, Des. If 'twere no other, [trumpets. Iago. It is but so, I warrant you. Hark, how these instruments summon to supper! And the great messengers of Venice stay: Go in, and weep not; all things shall be well. [exeunt Des. & Emil. Enter Roderigo. How now, Roderigo! Rod. I do not find, that thou deal'st justly with Iago. What in the contrary? [me. Rod. Every day thou doff'st me with some device, Iago; and rather (as it seems to me now,) keep'st me from 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? Rod. 'Faith, I have heard too much; for your words and performances are no kin together. Iago. You charge me most unjustly. Rod. With nought but truth. I have wasted myself out of my means. The jewels you have had from me, to deliver to Desdemona, 'would half have corrupted a votarist: You have told me-she has received them, and returned me expectations and comforts of sudden respect and acquittance; but I find none. Iago. Well; go to; very well. Rod. Very well! go to! I cannot go to, man; nor 'tis not very well: By this hand, I say, it is very scurvy; and begin to find myself fobbed in it. Iago. Very well. Rod. 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. Rod. Ay, and I have 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. Rod. It hath not appeared. Iago. I grant, indeed, it hath not appeared; and your suspicion is not without wit and judg ment. But, Roderigo, if thou hast that within thee indeed, which I have greater reason to believe now than ever,-I mean, purpose, courage, and valour, this night show it if thou the next night following enjoyest not Desdemona, take me from this world with treachery, and devise engines for my life. Rod. 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. Rod. 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 reinoving of Cassio. Rod. How do you mean-removing of him? Iago. Why, by making him incapable of Othello's place; knocking out his brains. Rod. And that you would have me do? Iago. Ay, if you dare do yourself a profit, and a right. He sups to-night with a harlot, and thither will I go to him; he knows not yet of his honourable fortune: if you will watch his going thence (which I shall 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 shew you such a necessity in his death, that you shall think yourself bound to put it on him. is now high supper-time, and the night grows to waste: about it. Rod. I will hear further reason for this. It [exeunt. Des. So would not I; my love doth so approve him, That even his stubbornness, his checks, and frowns, Pr'ythee unpin me,-have grace and favour in them. Emil. I have laid those sheets you bade me on the bed. Des. All's one:- -Good father! how foolish are our minds!If I do die before thee, pr'ythee, shroud me In one of those same sheets. Emil. Come, come, you talk. Des. My mother had a maid, called-Barbara; She was in love; and he, she lov'd, prov'd mad, And did forsake her: she had a song of-willow, An old thing 'twas, but it express'd her fortune, And she died singing it: That song, to-night, Will not go from my mind; I have much to do, But to go hang my head all at one side, And sing it like poor Barbara. Pr'ythee, despatch. Emil. Shall I go fetch your night-gown? Des. No, unpin me here.— This Lodovico is a proper man. Emil. A very handsome man. Des. And he speaks well. Emil. I know a lady in Venice, who would have walked bare-foot to Palestine, for a touch of his nether lip. Des. The poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree, [singing. Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee, The fresh streams ran by her, and murmur'd her Her salt tears fell from her, and soften'd the stones; Lay by these: Sing willow, willow, willow; Pr'ythee, hic 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 it that Emil. It is the wind. [knocks? Des. 1 call'd my love, false love; but what said he then? Sing willow, &c. If I court mo women, you'll couch with mo men. So, get thee gone; good night. Mine eyes do Doth that bode weeping? Emil. 'Tis neither here nor there. [itch; Des. I have heard it said so.-O, these men, these men! Dost thou in conscience think,-tell me, Emilia, That there be women do abuse their husbands In such gross kind. Emil. There be some such, no question. SCENE 1. A STREET. Des. Good troth, I think thou would'st not. Emil. By my troth, I think I should; and undo't, when I had done. Marry, I would not do such a thing for a joint-ring; nor for measures of lawn; nor for gowns, petticoats, nor caps, nor any petty exhibition: but, for the whole world,— Why, who would not make her husband, a cuckold, to make him a monarch? I should venture purgatory for't. Des. Beshrew me, if I would do such a wrong for the whole world. Emil. Why, the wrong is but a wrong i'the world; and, having the world for your labour, 'tis a wrong in your own world, and you might quickly make it right. Des. I do not think there is any such woman. Emil. Yes, a dozen; and as many To the vantage, as would store the world they play'd for. But, I do think, it is their husbands' faults, grace, Yet we have some revenge. Let husbands know, Their wives have sense like them: they see, and smell, And have their palates both for sweet and sour, Des. Good night, good night: Heaven me such usage send, Not to pick bad from bad; but, by bad, mend! [exeunt ACT V. Enter Iago and Roderigo. Iago. Here, stand behind this bulk; straight will he come : Wear thy good rapier bare, and put it home; Rod. Be near at hand; I may miscarry in't. Tago. Here, at thy hand; be bold, and take thy sword. As gifts to Desdemona; It must not be: if Cassio do remain, He hath a daily beauty in his life, That makes me ugly; and, besides, the Moor May unfold me to him: there stand I in much peril: No, he must die:-But so, I hear him coming. Enter Cassio. Rod. I know his gait, 'tis he :-Villain, thou diest. Cas. That thrust had been mine enemy indeed, But that my coat is better than thou think'st; I will make proof of thine. [draws, and wounds Rod. Rod. O, I am slain! [Tago cuts Cas. in the leg; exit. Cas. I am maim'd for ever :- -Help, ho! murder! murder! Enter Othello, at a distance. [falls. Oth. The voice of Cassio:-Iago keeps his [word. Cas. O, help! ho! light! a surgeon! Oth. '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 fate hies apace :— Strumpet, I come: Forth of my heart those charms, thine eyes are blotted; Thy bed, lust-stain'd, shall with lust's blood be spotted. [exit Othello. Enter Lodovico and Gratiano. Cas. What, ho! no watch? no passage? murder! murder! Gra. 'Tis some mischance; the cry is very Cas. O, help! [direful. Lod. Hark. Rod. O wretched villain! [night: Lod. Two or three groans;-it is a heavy These may be counterfeits; let's think't unsafe To come into the cry, without more help. Rod. Nobody comes; then shall I bleed to death. Enter Iago, with a light. Lod. Hark! [and weapons. Gra. Here comes one in his shirt, with light Iago. Who's there? whose noise is this, that cries on murder? Lod. We do not know. Jago. Did you not hear a cry? Cas. Here, here; for heaven's sake, help me. Iage. What's the matter? Gra. This is Othello's ancient, as I take it. Lod. The same, indeed; a very valiant fellow. Iago. What are you here, that cry so grievously? Cas. Iago! O, I am spoil'd, undone by villains! Give me some help. [done this? Iago. O me, lieutenant! what villains have Cas. I think, that one of them is hereabout, And cannot make away. layo. O treacherous villains! What are you there? come in, and give some help. Rod. O, help me here! [to Lodovico and Grat. Cas. That's one of them. Jago. Umurderous slave! O villain! Iago. Gentlemen all, I do suspect this trash To be a party in this injury. Patience awhile, good Cassio.-Come, come; Iago. Even he, sir; did you know him? Iago. Signior Gratiano? I cry you gentle par don; Cas. and Rod. are borne off. Stay you, good gentleman:-Look you pale, unistress? Do you perceive the gastness of her eye?— [stabs Rod. Nay, if you stare, we shall hear more anon |