Thou told'st me thou
didst hold him in thy hate.
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 evades them...
...and non-suits 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 that never set
a squadron in the field...
...nor the division of a battle
knows more than a spinster.
He, in good time, must his lieutenant be...
...and I, God bless the
mark, his Moorship's ancient.
Now, sir, be judge yourself
whether I in any just term...
...am affined to love the Moor.
I would not follow him then.
O, sir, content you.
I follow him to serve my turn upon him.
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.
What a full fortune doth the
thick-lips owe if he can carry't thus.
Call up her father.
Rouse him, make after
him, poison his delight.
Proclaim him in the street,
incense her kinsmen...
...and though he in a fertile
climate dwell, plague him with flies.
RoDERIGo Here is her
father's house. I'll call aloud.
Do, with like timorous
accent and dire yell...
...as when by night and negligence
the fire is spied in populous cities.
RoDERIGo What, ho, Brabantio!
- Signor Brabantio, ho! IAGo: Ho!
Thieves! Thieves! Look to your house,
your daughter and your bags. Thieves!
What is the meaning of this terrible
summons? What is the matter there, huh?
Signor,
is all your family within?
IAGo: Are your doors locked?
BRABANTlo: Why, wherefore ask you this?
IAGo: Zounds, sir, you are 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. Awake the snorting
citizens with the bell...
...or else that devil will
make a grandsire of you.
- Arise, I say.
- What, have you lost your wits?
Most reverend signor, do you know my voice?
BRABANTlo: Not I, what are you?
- My name is Roderigo.
- The worse welcome. RoDERIGo: Sir.
I have told thee not to haunt about my doors.
In honest plainness thou hast heard me say...
...my daughter is not for thee.
- Patience, good sir.
Zounds, sir, you are one of those that
will not serve God if the devil bid you.
Because we come to do you
service, you think we are ruffians.
You'll have your daughter
covered with a Barbary horse.
You'll have your nephews neigh to you.
What profane wretch art thou?
I am one, sir, that come to tell you...
...that your daughter and the Moor
are now making a beast with two backs.
- Thou art a villain.
- You're a senator.
BRABANTlo: This thou shalt
answer. I know thee, 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.
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.
Strike on the tinder, give me
a taper, call up all my people.
- Light, I say. Light.
- Farewell, for I must leave you.
It seems not meet nor wholesome
to my place to be produced...
As if I stay, I shall.
- Against the Moor.
For I do know the state...
However this may gall him with some check.
- Cannot with safety cast him...
...for he's embarked with such
loud reason to the Cyprus wars.
That for their souls, another of his
fathom they have not to lead their business.
In which regard, though I do
hate him as I do hell's 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.
There will I be with him. So farewell.
It is too true an evil. Gone she is.
And what's to come of my despised
time is naught but bitterness.
- Are they married, think you?
- Truly, I think they are.
Go call my brother.
O, that you would had her.
Some one way, some another.
You know where we may
apprehend her and the Moor?
I think I can discover them...
...if you please to get good
guard and go along with me.
Well, I pray you lead on.
At every house I'll call.
I may command at most. Get weapons, ho.
And raise some special officers of the night.
On, good Roderigo. I'll deserve your pains.
Though in the trade of
war I have slain men...
...yet I hold it very stuff
o'th'conscience to do no contrived murder.
I lack iniquity sometimes to do me service.
Nine or 1 o times I had thought
t'have yerk'd him here under the ribs.
- 'Tis better as it is.
- Nay, but he prated...
...and spoke such scurvy and
provoking terms against your honor...
...that with the little godliness
I have, I did full hard forbear him.
But I pray, sir, are you fast married?
But be sure of this:
The magnifico is much beloved...
...and hath in his effect a voice
potential as double as the duke's.
He will divorce you or put upon you
what restraint and grievance that law...
...with all his might to enforce
it on, will give him cable.
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 honor, I shall promulgate.
- I fetch my life and being
from men of royal siege...
...and my demerits may speak unbonneted...
...to as proud a fortune
as this that I have reached.
For know, lago...
...but that I love the gentle Desdemona...
...I would not my unhoused free
condition put into circumscription...
...and confine for the sea's worth.
But look, what lights come yond?
Those are the raised father and his friends.
- You were best go in.
- 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.
- What is the news?
- The duke does greet you.
He requires your haste-post-haste
appearance on the instant.
- What is the matter, think you?
- Something from Cyprus, as I may divine.
It is a business of some heat.
Galleys 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.
Well, I'm found by you.
I will but spend a word here
in the house and go with you.
Ancient, what makes he here?
Faith, he tonight hath
boarded a land carrack.
If it prove lawful prize, he's made forever.
I do not understand.
He's married.
To who?
Marry, to...
- Come, captain, will you
go? OTHELLo: Have with you.
- Here comes another troop to
seek for you. RoDERIGo: Stop!
Brabantio. General, be
advised, he comes to bad intent.
OTHELLo: Holla! Stand there.
RoDERIGo: Signor, it is the Moor.
- Down with him, thief.
- Roderigo! Come, I am for you.
Keep up your bright swords
for the dew will rust them.
Good signor...
...you shall more command with
years than with your weapons.
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...
...whether a maid so
tender, fair and happy...
...could 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.
I therefore apprehend and do attach
thee for an abuser of the world.
A practicer of arts
inhibited and out of warrant.
- Lay hold upon him.
- Halt!
Hold your hands, both you
of my inclining and the rest.
Were it my cue to fight, I should
have known it without a prompter.
Where will you that I go
to answer this your charge?
To prison.
Till fit time of law and direct
session call thee to answer.
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?
'Tis true, most worthy
signor, the duke's in council.
- And your noble self, I am sure, is sent for.
- 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
shall have passage free...
...bond slaves and pagans
shall our statesmen be.
Valiant othello, we must
straight employ you...
...against the general enemy ottoman.
I did not see you. Welcome, gentle signor.
We lacked your counsel and your help tonight.
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 any 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.
- Why, what's the matter?
- My daughter.
O, my daughter.
- Dead?
- Ay, to me.
She is abused, stolen from me...
...and corrupted by spells and
medicines bought of mountebanks.
For nature so preposterously to err...
...being not deficient,
blind nor lame of sense...
...sans witchcraft could not.
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 its own sense
though our proper son stood in your action.
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.
We are very sorry for't.
What, in your own part, can you say to this?
Nothing, but this is so.
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 broil and battle.
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 conjurations or what mighty magic...
...for such proceedings am I charged withal.
I won his daughter.
A maiden never bold...
...of spirit so still and quiet
that her motion blushed at itself.
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 judgment maimed and most imperfect...
...that will confess perfection so
could err against all rules of nature.
I therefore vouch again that with
some mixture powerful o'er the blood...
...or with some dram
conjured to that effect...
...he wrought upon her.
To vouch this is no proof without
more certain and more overt test.
These are thin habits and poor likelihoods
of modern seeming you prefer against him.
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?
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.
Fetch Desdemona hither.
Ancient, conduct them.
You best know the place.
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.
Say it, 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 spake of
most disastrous chances...
...of moving accidents by flood and field...
...of hairbreadth 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 travels' history.
Wherein of antres vast and deserts idle...
...rough quarries, rocks and
hills whose heads touch heaven...
...it was my hint to speak.
Such was the process and of the
cannibals that each other eat...
...the anthropophagi...
...and men whose heads do
grow beneath their shoulders.
This to hear would
Desdemona seriously incline.
But still the house affairs
would draw her thence...
...which ever as she could
with haste dispatch...
...she'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 tell of some distressful
stroke that my youth suffered.
My story being done...
...she gave me for my pains a world of sighs.
She swore, in faith 'twas
strange, 'twas passing strange...
...'twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful.
She wished she had not heard it...
...yet she wished 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.
Here comes the lady, let her witness it.
I think this tale would win my daughter too.
Good Brabantio...
...take up this mangled matter at the best.
Men do their broken weapons
rather use than their bare hands.
I pray you, hear her speak.
If she confess that she was half the wooer...
...destruction light on me 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?
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.
God be with you.
I hath done. On to the affairs of state.
I had rather to adopt a child than get it.
Moor, I here do give thee
that with all my heart...
...which, but thou hast already...
...with all my heart I would keep from thee.
For thy sake, jewel, I am glad
at soul I have no other child...
...for thy escape would teach
me tyranny to hang clogs on them.
I have done, my lord.
Beseech you. On to the affairs of state.
The Turk with most mighty
preparation makes for Cyprus.
Othello, the fortitude of the
place is best known to you.
And though we have there a substitute
of most allowed sufficiency...
...yet opinion, a sovereign
mistress of effects...
...throws a more safer voice on you.
You must therefore be content to
slubber the gloss of your new fortunes...
...with this more stubborn
and boisterous expedition.
The tyrant custom, most grave senators...
...hath made the flinty
and steel couch of war...
...my thrice-driven bed of down.
I do agnise a natural and prompt
alacrity I find in hardness...
...and do undertake these present
wars against the ottomites.
Most humbly therefore
bending to your state...
...I crave fit disposition for my wife...
...due reference of place and exhibition...
...in such accommodation and
besort as levels with her breeding.
- Lf you please, be't at her father's.
- I'll not have it so.
- Nor I.
- Nor I.
I would not there reside to put my father
in impatient thoughts by being in his eye.
Most gracious duke...
...to my unfolding, lend a prosperous ear...
...and let me find a charter in
your voice t'assist my simpleness.
What would you? Speak.
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 utmost pleasure of my lord.
I saw othello's visage in his mind...
...and to his honors 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.
- I do beseech you, let her have your voice.
Vouch with me, heaven, I therefore beg it
not to please the palate of my appetite...
...but to be free and bounteous of her mind.
Heaven defend your good
souls that you think I will...
...your serious and great
business scant for she is with me.
Be it as you shall privately
determine, either for her stay or going.
Th'affair cries haste
and speed must answer it.
You must hence tonight.
- Tonight, my lord?
- This night.
With all my heart.
At 1 o i'th'morning, here we'll meet again.
Othello, leave some officer behind and
he shall our commission bring to you...
...with such things else of
courtesy and respect as doth concern.
So please your grace, my ancient.
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.
Let it be so.
Good night to everyone.
And, noble signor...
...if virtue no delighted beauty lack...
...your son-in-law is
far more fair than black.
Adieu, brave Moor. Use Desdemona well.
Look to her, Moor, have a quick eye to see.
She has deceived her father and may thee.
My life upon her faith.
Honest lago, my Desdemona
must I leave to thee.
I prithee, let thy wife attend on her and
bring them after in the best advantage.
Come, my Desdemona, I
have but an hour of love...
...of worldly matters and
direction to spend with thee.
We must obey the time.
Lago.
What sayst thou, noble heart?
What shall I do, thinkest thou?
Why, go to bed and sleep.
I will incontinently drown myself.
Well, if thou dost, I shall
never love thee after it.
Why, thou silly gentleman?
What shall I do?
I confess it is my shame to be so fond,
but it is not in my virtue to amend it.
Virtue? A fig.
'Tis in ourselves that we are thus or thus.
Our bodies are gardens to the
which our wills are gardeners.
If the balance of our lives
had not one scale of reason...
...to poise another of sensuality...
...by 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.
- It cannot be.
- 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 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 these wars.
Defeat thy favor with an usurped beard.
It cannot be that Desdemona should
long continue her love to the Moor.
She must change for youth.
When she is sated with his body, she
will find the error of her choice.
She must have change.
She must.
Therefore put money in thy purse.
If thou wilt needs damn thyself, do
it a more delicate way than drowning.
Make all the money thou canst.
If sanctimony and a frail vow
betwixt an erring barbarian...
...and a super-subtle venetian,
be not too hard for my wits...
...and all the tribe of
hell, thou shalt enjoy her.
Go, make money.
A pox of drowning thyself.
It's clean out of the way.
Seek thou rather to be hanged
in compassing thy joy...
...than to be drowned and go without her.
Wilt thou be fast to my hopes
if I depend on the issue?
Thou art sure of me.
Go, make money.
I have told thee often and
I 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 and me a sport.
There are many events in the womb
of time which will be delivered.
Traverse. Go, provide thy money.
We'll have more of this tomorrow.
- Where shall we meet in the morning?
- At my lodging.
- I'll be with thee betimes.
- Go to. Farewell.
Do you hear, Roderigo?
What sayst thou?
No more of drowning, do you hear?
I am changed.
- I'll go sell all my land.
- Go to. Farewell.
Put money enough in your purse.
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...
...yet 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 is a proper man.
Let me see, now. To get his place...
...and to plume up my will a double knavery.
How?
How? Let me see.
After some time, to abuse othello's ear
that he is too familiar with his wife.
He hath a person and a smooth
dispose to be suspected...
...framed to make women false.
The Moor is of a free and open nature...
...that thinks men honest
that but seem to be so...
...and would as tenderly be
led by the nose as asses are.
I have it.
It is engendered.
Hell and night must bring
this monstrous birth...
...to the world's light.
MoNTANo: Methinks the wind
does speak aloud at land.
A fuller blast ne'er shook our battlements.
If it hath ruffianed so upon
the sea, what ribs of oak...
...when the huge mountain
melts, can hold the mortise?
- What shall we hear of this?
- 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 pour water on the burning Bear...
...and quench the guards
of the ever-fixed Pole.
I never did like molestation
view on the enchafed flood.
If the Turkish fleet be not ensheltered
and embayed, they are drowned.
It is impossible they bear it out.
The ship is here put in, a veronesa.
Michael Cassio, lieutenant to the
warlike Moor othello, is come ashore.
The Moor himself at sea and is in
full commission here for Cyprus.
I am glad on't. 'Tis a worthy governor.
For I have served him and the
man commands like a full soldier.
CASSlo: Thanks, you the valiant of this
warlike isle that so approve the Moor!
Let the heavens give him
defense against the elements...
...for I have lost him on a dangerous sea.
- Is he well shipped?
- His bark is stoutly timbered.
His pilot of very expert
and approved allowance.
Therefore my hopes, not surfeited
to death, stand in bold cure.
CASSlo: Hello, what noise?
The town is empty. On the brow o'th'sea
stand ranks of people and they cry, "A sail!"
My hopes do shape him for the governor.
They do discharge
their shot of courtesy.
- Our friends at least. CASSlo: I pray you.
- Go forth and give us truth who arrived.
- I shall.
Good lieutenant, is your general married?
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 bare all excellency.
CASSlo: Who has put in?
- 'Tis one lago, ancient to the general.
He has had most favorable and happy speed.
Tempests themselves, high
seas and howling winds...
...the guttered rocks
and congregated sands...
...traitors ensteeped to
clog the guiltless keel...
...as having sense of beauty
do omit their mortal natures...
...letting go safely by the divine Desdemona.
What is she?
She that I speak of, our
great captain's captain...
...left in the conduct of the bold lago...
...whose footing here anticipates
our thoughts a se'nnight's speed.
Great Jove, othello guard...
...and swell his sail with
thine own powerful breath...
...that he may bless this
bay with his tall ship...
...and swiftly come to Desdemona's arms...
...give renewed fire to our extincted
spirits and bring all Cyprus comfort.
O, behold.
The riches of the ship is come onshore.
You men of Cyprus, let her have your knees.
Hail to thee, lady, and
the grace of heaven...
...before, behind thee and on
every hand enwheel thee round.
I thank thee, valiant Cassio.
What tidings can you tell me of my lord?
He is not yet arrived.
Nor know I aught but that he's
well and will be shortly here.
But I fear. How lost you company?
The great contention of the sea
and skies parted our fellowship.
CASSlo: But hark, a sail.
- They bring their greeting to the citadel.
- This likewise is a friend.
CASSlo: See for the news.
Good ancient, you are
welcome. Welcome, mistress.
Let it not gall your patience,
good lago, that I extend my manners.
'Tis my breeding that gives
me this bold show of courtesy.
Would she give you so much of her lips
as her tongue she oft bestows on me...
...you'd have enough.
You have little cause to say so.
Come on, you are pictures out of
doors, bells in your parlors...
...wild cats in your kitchens,
saints in your injuries...
...devils being offended, players in your
housewifery and housewives in your beds.
- Fie upon thee, slanderer.
- Nay, it is true or else I am a Turk.
You rise to play and go to bed to work.
Do not learn of him, Emilia,
though he be thy husband.
How say you, Cassio?
Is he not a most profane
and liberal counselor?
He speaks home, madam.
You may relish him more in the
soldier than in the scholar.
Why, Cassio.
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
catch you in your own courtesies.
You say true, 'tis so indeed.
If such tricks as these strip
you out of your lieutenantry...
...it were better you had not
kissed your three fingers so oft...
...which now again you are
most apt to play the sir in.
Oh, very good. Well-kissed, an
excellent courtesy. 'Tis so indeed.
Yet again your fingers to your lips?
Would they were Clyster pipes for your sake.
The Moor. I know his trumpet.
'Tis truly so.
Lo where he comes.
O, my fair warrior.
O, my dear 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 their wakened death...
...and let the laboring bark
climb hills of seas olympus-high...
...and duck again as low
as hell's from heaven.
If it were now to die...
...'twere now to be most happy...
...for I fear my soul hath
her content so absolute...
...that not another comfort like
to this succeeds in unknown fate.
The heavens forbid but that our
loves and comforts should increase...
...even as our days do grow.
Amen to that, sweet powers.
I cannot speak enough of this content.
It stops me here.
It is too much of joy.
And this...
...and this...
...the greatest discords be
that e'er our hearts shall make.
O, you are well-tuned now.
But I'll set down the pegs that
make this music, as honest as I am.
OTHELLo: 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 lago, 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, my Desdemona.
Once more, well-met at Cyprus.
Do thou meet me presently at the harbor.
Come hither.
Roderigo.
The lieutenant, Cassio, tonight
watches on the court of guard.
First, I must tell thee this:
Desdemona is directly in love with him.
With him? Why, 'tis not possible.
The knave is young, handsome...
...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.
I cannot believe that in her.
She's full of most blessed condition.
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?
- Ay, that I did.
But that was but courtesy.
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 mutualarities
so marshal the way...
...hard at hand comes the
master and main exercise...
...th'incorporate conclusion.
But, sir, be you ruled by me.
I have brought you from venice.
Watch you tonight. For your
command, I'll lay't upon you.
Cassio knows you not.
I'll not be far from you.
Find you some occasion to anger Cassio...
...either by speaking too loud
or tainting his discipline...
...or from whatever cause you may please...
...which the time shall
more favorably minister.
- Well.
- Sir, he is rash, very sudden in choler...
...and haply with his truncheon 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 expectations of our prosperity.
I will do this if I can
bring it to any opportunity.
I warrant thee. Meet me
by and by at the citadel.
I must fetch his necessaries ashore.
- Adieu.
- Adieu.
That Cassio loves her, I do well believe't.
That she loves him, 'tis
apt and of great credit.
The Moor, howbeit that I endure him not,
is of a constant, loving, noble nature.
And I dare think to Desdemona
will prove a most dear husband.
Now, I do love her too.
Not out of absolute lust...
Although peradventure I stand
accountant for as great a sin.
- But partly led to diet my revenge...
...for that I do suspect the lustful
Moor hath leaped into my seat.
The thought whereof doth
like a poisonous mineral...
...gnaw my innards.
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 judgment cannot cure.
Which thing to do if this
poor trash of venice...
...whom I trail 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 love me,
thank me and reward me...
...for making him egregiously an ass...
...and practicing upon his peace and quiet...
...even to madness.
'Tis here, but yet confused.
Knavery's plain face is never seen till used.
OTHELLo: Good Michael.
Look you to the guard tonight.
Let's teach ourselves that honorable
stop, not to outsport discretion.
Lago hath direction what to do...
...but notwithstanding, with my
personal eye will I look to't.
Lago is most honest. Michael, good night.
Tomorrow with your earliest,
let me have speech with you.
Come, my dear love.
The purchase made, the fruits are to ensue.
That profit's yet to come...
...'twixt me...
...and you.
CASSlo: Lago.
We must to the watch.
Not this hour, lieutenant.
'Tis not yet 1 o 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.
- She's a most exquisite lady.
- And I'll warrant her full of game.
Indeed, she's a most fresh
and delicate creature.
What an eye she has. Methinks it
sounds a parley to provocation.
An inviting eye and yet
methinks right modest.
And when she speaks, 'tis an alarum to love.
It is indeed perfection.
Well, happiness to their sheets.
Come, lieutenant, I have a stoup of wine.
Here without are a brace of gallants...
...that'd fain have a measure
to the health of othello.
Not tonight, good lago. I have very
poor and unhappy brains for drinking.
I could wish courtesy would invent
other custom of entertainment.
They are our friends, but one cup.
I have drunk but one cup tonight,
and that was craftily qualified too...
...and behold what innovation it makes here.
I am unfortunate in this infirmity. I
dare not task my weakness with any more.
What, man. 'Tis a night of
revels, the gallants desire it.
- Where are they?
- Here, at the door.
- I pray you, call them in.
- I'll do it.
But it dislikes me.
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
offense as my young mistress' dog.
Now, my sick fool Roderigo...
...whom love hath turned
almost the wrong side outward...
...to Desdemona tonight hath
caroused potations pottle-deep...
...and he's to watch.
Three lads of Cyprus have I tonight
flustered with flowing cups...
...and they watch too.
Now, 'mongst this flock of drunkards...
...am I to put our Cassio to some
action that may offend the isle.
But here they come.
If consequence do but approve my dream...
...my boat sails freely
with both wind and stream.
'Fore God, they have
given me a rouse already.
Good faith, a little one. Not
past a pint as I am a soldier.
And let me the canakin clink
And let me the canakin clink
A soldier's a man
A life's but a span
Why, then, let a soldier drink
Why, then, let a soldier drink
A soldier's a man
A life's but a span
Why, then, let a soldier drink
Why, then, let a soldier drink
'Fore God, an excellent song.
I learned it in England, where indeed
they are most potent in potting.
Your Dane, your German, your
swagbellied Hollander... Drink, ho.
- Are nothing to your English.
Is your Englishman so expert in his drinking?
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.
- Here's to the health of our general.
- And for you, lieutenant. I'll do you justice.
O, sweet England.
King Stephen was a worthy peer
His breeches cost him but a crown
He held them sixpence all too dear
With that he 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
Take thine auld cloak about thee
CASSlo: 'Fore God, you.
This is a more exquisite song than the other.
- Will you hear't again?
- No...
...for I hold him unworthy of
his place that does those things.
Well, God's above all and there
be souls that must be saved...
...and there be souls must not be saved.
- That is true, good lieutenant.
- For mine own part...
No offense to the general
nor any man of quality.
- I hope to be saved.
- And so do I, lieutenant.
- Ay, but not before me.
The lieutenant is to be
saved before the ancient.
Let's have 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, that I am drunk.
This is my ancient.
This is my right hand...
This is my left hand.
I am not drunk now.
I can walk well enough.
I can speak well enough.
- Excellent, well.
- Very well, then!
You must not think that I am drunk.
To th'platform, masters.
Come, let's set the watch.
You see this fellow that is gone before?
He is a soldier fit to stand
by Caesar and give direction.
And do but see his vice.
'Tis pity of him. I fear the
trust othello puts him in...
...on some odd time of his
infirmity, will shake this island.
- But is he often thus?
- 'Tis evermore the prologue to his sleep.
Not too 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 so?
How now, Roderigo.
After the lieutenant, go.
'Tis a great pity that the noble Moor...
...should hazard such a
place as his own second...
...with one of an ingraft infirmity.
It were an honest action
to say so to the Moor.
Not I, for this fair island.
I do love Cassio well and would
do much to cure him of this evil.
- But hark, what noise? CASSlo:
Zounds, you rogue. You rascal.
MoNTANo: What's the matter, lieutenant?
- A knave teach me my duty.
I'll beat the knave into a wicker bottle.
- Beat me?
- Dost thou prate, rogue?
- Pray, hold your hand.
- Let go or I'll knock you o'er the mazzard.
MoNTANo: Come, come. You're drunk.
Drunk!
Come, chrissake, cry mutiny.
Diablo, ho! The town will rise.
God's will, lieutenant.
You will be shamed forever.
What is the matter here?
Zounds, I bleed. I am hurt to the death.
- Hold for your lives!
- Hold! Lieutenant, sir, Montano, gentlemen.
Have you forgot all sense of place and duty?
Hold! The general speaks. Hold for shame.
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 bell!
It frights the isle from her propriety.
What is the matter, masters?
Honest lago, that looks dead with grieving.
Speak, who began this?
On thy love, I charge thee.
If partially affined or leagued in office,
thou dost deliver more or less than truth.
- Thou art no soldier...
- Touch me not so near.
I'd rather have this
tongue cut from my mouth...
...than it should do
offense to Michael Cassio.
Yet I persuade myself, to speak
the truth shall nothing wrong him.
Thus it is, general. Montano
and myself being in speech...
...there comes a fellow
crying out for help...
...and Cassio following him with
determined sword to execute upon him.
Sir, this gentleman steps in to
Cassio and entreats his pause.
Myself the crying fellow did
pursue, lest by his clamor...
...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 can I not report.
But men are men...
...the best sometimes forget.
Though Cassio did some little wrong to him...
...as men in rage strike
those who wish them best...
...yet surely Cassio, I
believe, received from him...
...that fled some strange indignity,
which patience could not pass.
I know, lago.
Thy honesty and love
doth mince this matter...
...making it light to Cassio.
Cassio.
I love thee, but never
more be officer of mine.
Look if my gentle love be not raised up.
I'll make thee an example.
What's the matter?
All's well now, sweeting. Come away to bed.
Sir, for your hurts, myself will
be your surgeon. Lead him off.
Lago, look with care about the town...
...and silence those whom
this vile brawl distracted.
Come, my Desdemona.
'Tis the soldiers' life to have their
balmy slumbers waked with strife.
- What, are you hurt, lieutenant?
- Ay, past all surgery.
Marry, heaven forbid.
Reputation.
Reputation. Reputation,
I have lost my reputation.
I have lost the immortal
part, sir, of myself...
...and what remains is bestial.
My reputation, lago, my reputation.
As I am an honest man...
...I thought you'd
received some bodily wound.
There is more offense in
that than in reputation.
Reputation is an idle and
most false disposition...
...oft got without merit
and lost without deserving.
You have lost no reputation at all
unless you repute yourself such a loser.
What, man, there are ways
to recover the general again.
You are now but cast in his mood, a
punishment more in policy than in malice.
Sue to him again and he's yours.
I will rather sue to be despised
than to deceive so good a commander...
...with so slight, so drunken,
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.
What was he that you
followed with your sword?
- What had he done to you?
- I know not.
Is it possible?
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,
revel, pleasure and applause...
...transform ourselves into beasts!
Come, come. Good wine is
a good familiar creature...
...if it be well used.
And, good lieutenant, I
think you think I love you.
I have well approved it, sir.
I drunk.
You or any man living
may be drunk at some time.
I'll tell you what you shall do.
Our general's wife is now the general.
Confess yourself freely
to her, importune her.
She'll help to put you in your place again.
This broken joint between
you and her husband...
...entreat her to splinter and my
fortunes against any lay worth naming...
...this crack in your love shall
grow stronger than it was before.
You advise me well.
I protest in the sincerity
of love and honest kindness.
I think it freely.
And betimes in the morning will
I beseech the virtuous Desdemona...
...to undertake for me.
I am desperate of my fortunes
if they check me here.
You are in the right.
Good night, lieutenant.
I must to the watch.
Night...
...honest lago.
IAGo: How now, Roderigo?
I do follow here in the chase,
not like a hound that hunts...
...but one that fills up the cry.
My money is almost spent.
I have been tonight exceedingly well
- cudgeled.
And I think the issue will be, I shall
have so much experience for my pains...
...and so, with a little more
wit and no money at all...
...return again to venice.
How poor are they that have not patience.
What wound did ever heal but by degrees?
Thou know'st we work by
wit and not by witchcraft.
And wit depends on dilatory time.
Does it not go well?
Cassio hath beaten thee.
But thou by that small
hurt hath cashiered Cassio.
Though other things grow
fair against the sun...
...yet fruits that blossom
first will first be ripe.
Content thyself a while.
By th'mass, 'tis morning.
Pleasure and action makes
the hours seem short.
Retire thee. Go where thou art billeted.
Away, I say. Thou shalt hear more hereafter.
Nay, get thee gone.
Two things are to be done:
My wife must move for Cassio to
her mistress. I'll set her on it.
Myself the while to draw the Moor apart...
...and bring him jump
when he may Cassio find...
...soliciting his wife.
Ay, that's the way.
Dull not device by coldness and delay.
CASSlo: Masters?
Play here.
I will content your pains,
something that's brief...
...and bid, "Good morrow, general."
Sirrah, if the gentlewoman that attends
the general's wife be stirring...
...tell her there is one Cassio
entreats her a small favor of speech.
- Wilt thou do this?
- I shall do it, sir.
In happy time, lago.
- You have not been abed, then?
- Why, no.
The day had broke before we parted.
I have made bold, good lago,
to send in to your wife.
My suit to her is that she will to
virtuous Desdemona procure me some access.
I'll send her to you presently.
And I'll devise a mean to
draw the Moor out of the way...
...so that your converse and
business may be more free.
I humbly thank you for it.
I never knew a Florentine
more kind and honest.
Lo, the happiness.
Good morrow, good lieutenant.
I am sorry for your displeasure,
but all will sure be well.
The general and his wife are talking
of it and she speaks for you stoutly.
The Moor replies that he you
hurt is of great fame in Cyprus...
...and great affinity...
...and that in wholesome wisdom,
he might not but refuse you...
...but he protests he loves you and
needs no other suitor but his likings...
...to take the safest occasion by
the front to bring you in again.
Yet I beseech you, if you think
it fit, or that it may be done...
...give me advantage of some brief
discourse with Desdemona alone.
I pray you, come in.
I will bestow you where you shall
have time to speak your bosom freely.
I am much bound to you.
These letters give, lago, 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.
Well, my good lord, I'll do it.
OTHELLo: This fortification,
gentlemen, shall we see't?
We'll wait upon your lordship.
Be thou assured, good Cassio, I will
do all my abilities in thy behalf.
Good madam, do, I know it grieves
my husband as if the case were his.
DESDEMoNA: O, that's an honest fellow.
Do not doubt, Cassio...
...I will have my lord and you
again as friendly as you were.
Madam, whatever shall
become of Michael Cassio...
...he's never anything but your true servant.
O, sir, I thank you.
You do love my lord.
You have known him long
and be you well assured...
...he shall in strangeness stand no
further off than in a politic distance.
Ay, but, lady, that policy
may either last so long...
...or feed upon such nice and waterish diet,
or breed itself so out of circumstance...
...that, I being absent
and my place supplied...
...my general will forget
my love and service.
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.
Madam, here comes my lord.
DESDEMoNA: Why, stay and hear me speak.
CASSlo: Not now, I am very ill at ease,
- Unfit for mine own purposes.
DESDEMoNA: Well, do your discretion.
Ha! I like not that.
What dost thou say?
Nothing, my lord, or if, I know not what.
Was that not Cassio parted from my wife?
Cassio, my lord?
No, sure, I cannot think it...
...that he would sneak away so
guilty-like, seeing you coming.
- I do believe 'twas he.
- How now, my lord?
I have been talking with a suitor here,
a man that languishes in your displeasure.
- Who is't you mean?
- Why, your lieutenant, Cassio.
Good my lord, if I have any
grace or power to move you...
...his present reconciliation take.
For if he be not one that truly loves you...
...that errs in ignorance
and not in cunning...
...I have no judgment in an honest face.
- I prithee, call him back.
- Went he hence now?
Ay, sooth, so humbled he hath
left part of his grief with me.
I suffer with him.
Good love, call him back.
Not now, sweet Desdemon. Some other time.
But shall't be shortly?
- The sooner, sweet, for you.
- Shall't be tonight, at supper?
- No, not tonight.
- Tomorrow dinner, then?
I shall not dine at
home. I meet the captains.
Why, then, tomorrow night, or Tuesday morn.
On Tuesday noon or night, or Wednesday morn.
I prithee, name the time, but
let it not exceed three days.
When shall he come? Tell me, othello.
I wonder in my soul what
you would ask of me...
...that I should deny
or stand so mammering on.
What, Michael Cassio that
came a-wooing with you.
And 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.
- Prithee, no more.
Let him come when he will,
I will deny thee nothing.
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.
I will deny thee nothing.
Whereon, I do beseech you, grant me this:
To leave me but a little to myself.
Shall I deny you? No.
Farewell, my lord.
Farewell, my Desdemona.
I'll come to thee straight.
Emilia, come. Oh, be as
your fancies teach you.
Whate'er you be, I am obedient.
Excellent wretch.
Perdition catch my soul...
...but I do love thee.
And when I love thee not...
...chaos is come again.
My noble lord.
What dost thou say, lago?
Did Michael Cassio...
...when you wooed my lady, know of your love?
He did from first to last. Why dost thou ask?
But for a satisfaction of
my thoughts, no further harm.
Why of thy thought, lago?
I did not think he had
been acquainted with her.
O, yes...
...and went between us very oft.
- Indeed.
- "Indeed"? Ay, indeed.
Discern'st thou aught in that?
Is he not honest?
- Honest, my lord?
- "Honest"? Ay, honest.
My lord, for aught I know.
What dost thou think?
Think, my lord?
"Think, my lord?" By heaven, he echoes me...
...as if there were some monster in
his thoughts too hideous to be shown.
Thou dost mean something.
I heard thee say even now,
thou lik'st not that...
...when Cassio left my
wife. What did'st 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 brows together...
...as if thou then hadst shut up
in thy brain some horrible conceit.
If thou dost love me, show me thy thought.
- My lord, you know I love you.
- 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 are close denotements...
...working from the heart
that passion cannot rule.
For Michael Cassio, I dare be
sworn I think that he is honest.
- I think so too.
- Men should be that they seem.
Or if they be not, would
they might seem none.
Certain, men should be what they seem.
Why, then, I think Cassio is an honest man.
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.
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 where into
foul things sometimes intrude not?
Thou dost conspire against thy friend
if thou but think'st him wronged...
...and makest his ear a
stranger to thy thoughts.
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.
- Ay.
- I entreat you, then...
...from one that so imperfectly
conjects, you'll take no notice...
...nor build yourself a trouble out
of my scattering and unsure observance.
It were not for your quiet nor your good...
...nor for my manhood, honesty or
wisdom, to let you know my thoughts.
What dost thou mean?
Good name...
...in man and woman, dear my lord...
...is the immediate jewel of our 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.
By heaven, I'll know thy thoughts.
You cannot, if my heart were in your hand,
nor shall not, whilst 'tis in my custody.
O, beware, my lord, of jealousy.
It is the green-eyed monster which
doth mock and that meat it feeds on.
That cuckold lives in bliss, who, certain
of his fate, loves not his wronger.
But o, what damned minutes tells
he o'er, who dotes, yet doubts...
...suspects, yet strongly loves.
- Misery.
- 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.
Why, why is this?
Think'st thou I'd lead 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 blown
surmises matching thy inference.
Not to make me jealous
to say my wife is fair...
...loves company, is free of
speech, sings, plays and dances well.
Where virtue is, these are more virtuous.
Nor from my own weak merits will I draw
the smallest fear or doubt of her revolt...
...for she had eyes and chose me.
No, lago, I'll see before I doubt.
And when I doubt, prove.
And on the proof, there is no more but this:
Away at once with love or jealousy.
I am glad of it, for now
I shall have reason...
...to show the love and duty that
I bear you with franker spirit.
Therefore, as I am bound, receive it from me.
I speak not yet of proof.
Look to your wife.
Observe her well with Cassio.
Wear your eye thus, not jealous nor secure.
I would not have your free and noble
nature out of self-bounty be abused.
Look to't. I know our
country disposition well.
In venice, they do let God see the
pranks they dare not show their husbands.
Their best conscience is
not to leave't undone...
...but keep't unknown.
- Dost thou say so?
- She did deceive her father, marrying you.
And when she seemed to shake and
fear your looks, she loved them most.
- So she did.
- Why, go to, then!
She that so young could
give out such a seeming...
...to seal her father's
eyes up close as oak...
...he thought 'twas witchcraft.
But I am much to blame.
I humbly do beseech you of your
pardon for too much loving you.
I am bound to thee forever.
I see this hath a little dashed your spirits.
Not a jot.
Not a jot.
In faith, I fear it has.
I hope you will consider what
is spoke comes from my love.
But I do see you are moved.
I am to pray you not to strain
my speech to grosser issues...
...nor to larger reach than to suspicion.
- I will not.
- Should you do so, my lord...
...my speech would fall
into such vile success...
...as my thoughts aim not at.
Cassio is my trusty friend.
My lord, I see you are moved.
No, not much moved.
I do not think but Desdemona's honest.
Long live her so and
long live you to think so.
And yet...
...how nature erring from itself...
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.
Fie! One may smell in
such a will most rank...
...foul disproportion...
...thoughts unnatural.
But pardon me, I do not in
position distinctly speak of her...
...though I may fear her will,
recoiling to her better judgment...
...may fall to match you with her
country forms and happily repent.
Farewell, farewell.
If more thou dost perceive, let me know more.
Set on thy wife to observe.
- Leave me, lago.
- My lord, I take my leave.
Why did I marry?
This honest creature doubtless
sees and knows more...
...much more than he unfolds.
My noble lord...
...I would I might entreat your
honor to scan this thing no further.
Leave it to time.
Though it be fit that
Cassio have his place...
...for sure, he fills
it up with great ability.
Yet if you please to hold him off awhile...
...you shall by that
perceive him and his means.
Note if your lady strain his entertainment
with any strong or vehement importunity...
...much will be seen in that.
And in the meantime...
...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 honor.
- Fear not my government!
- My lord, I once more take my leave.
This fellow's of exceeding honesty...
...and knows all qualities with
a learned spirit of human dealings.
If I do...
...prove her haggard...
...though that her jesses
were my dear heartstrings...
...I'd whistle her off and
let her down the wind...
...to pray at fortune.
Haply for I am black...
...and have not those soft parts of
conversation that chamberers have.
Or for I am declined into the vale of years.
Yet that's not much.
She's gone.
I am abused...
...and my relief must be to loathe her!
O, curse of marriage...
...that we may call these delicate
creatures ours and not their appetites.
I'd rather be a toad, and live
upon the vapor in a dungeon...
...than keep a corner in the
thing I love for others' uses.
Yet 'tis the plague of great ones.
Prerogatived are we less than the base.
'Tis destiny unshunnable, like death.
Even then this forked
plague is fated to us...
...when we do quicken.
Look, she comes.
If she be false...
...o, then heaven mocks itself.
- I'll not believe't.
- How now, my dear othello.
Your dinner, and the generous islanders
by you invited, do attend your presence.
I am to blame.
Why do you speak so
faintly? Are you not well?
I have a pain...
...upon my forehead.
- Here.
- Oh.
Faith, that's with watching.
'Twill away again.
Let me but bind it hard,
within an hour, it will be well.
Your napkin is too little, let it alone.
Come.
I'll go in with you.
DESDEMoNA: I'm very sorry
that you are not well.
I'm 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 have a copy made and give't to lago.
What he will do with it, heaven knows, not I.
I nothing, no, but for his fantasy.
How now? What do you here alone?
Do not you chide, I have a thing for you.
- A thing for me? It is a common thing.
- Ha!
- To have a foolish wife.
- O, is that all?
What would you give me now
for that same handkerchief?
- What handkerchief?
- What handkerchief?
Why, that the Moor first gave to Desdemona...
...that which so often you did bid me steal.
- Hast stol'n it from her?
- No, faith, she let it drop by negligence.
To th'advantage, I, being there,
took't up. Look, here it is.
A good wench, give it me.
What will you do with't...
...that you have been so
earnest to have me filch it?
Why, what's that to you?
If it be not for some
purpose of import, give't me.
Poor lady, she'll run mad if she do lack it.
Be not acknown on't. I have a use for it.
O, go, relieve me.
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 sulfur.
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.
False to me?
- To me!
- How now, general. No more of that.
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.
- How now.
What sense had I of her stolen hours of lust?
I saw't not, thought it
not, it harmed not me.
I slept the next night
well, was free and merry.
I found not Cassio's kisses on her lips.
He that is robbed not wanting what is stolen,
let him not know't and he's not robbed.
- I am sorry to hear.
- 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 plumed troops and the
big wars that make ambition virtue.
O, farewell.
Farewell the neighing steed
and the shrill trump...
...the spirit-stirring drum,
the ear- piercing fife...
...the royal banner and all quality...
...pride, pomp and
circumstance of glorious war!
And, o, you mortal engines,
whose rude throats...
...th'immortal Jove's dread
clamors counterfeit, farewell!
- Othello's occupation's gone!
- Is't possible, my lord?
Villain, be sure thou prove my love a whore.
Be sure of it, give me the ocular proof
or by the worth of man's eternal soul...
...thou hadst been better have born
a dog than answer my waked wrath.
- Is't come to this?
- Make me to see't or prove it...
...that the probation bear no
hinge nor loop to hang a doubt on...
...or woe upon thy life!
- My noble lord...
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.
O, grace! O, heaven defend me.
Are you a man? Have you a soul or sense?
God bu'y, take mine office.
O, wretched fool that liv'st
to make thine honesty a vice.
O, monstrous world! 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...
...since love breeds such offense.
- Nay, stay. Thou shouldst be honest.
I should be wise, for honesty's a
fool and loses that it works for.
By the world, I think my wife
be honest and think she is not.
I think thou art just and think
thou art not. I'll have some proof.
Thy name which 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.
- I see, sir, you are eaten up with passion.
I do repent me that I put it
to you. You would be satisfied?
- Would. Nay, I will.
- And may, but how?
How satisfied, my lord? Would you,
the supervisor, grossly gape on?
- Behold her topped?
- Death and damnation! O!
It were a tedious difficulty, I
think, to bring them to that prospect.
Damn them if ever mortal eyes shall
see them bolster more than their own.
What then? How then? What shall
I say? Where is 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.
Yet I say if imputation
and strong circumstance...
...that lead to the door of truth will
give you satisfaction, you may have it.
- Give me a living reason she's disloyal.
- 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."
Then, sir, would he gripe and wring
my hand, cry out, "Sweet creature."
Then he kissed me hard, as if he plucked up
kisses by the roots that grew upon my lips.
Then laid his leg over my thigh and
sighed and kissed and then cried:
"Cursed fate that gave thee to the Moor!"
O, monstrous!
- Monstrous!
- Nay, this was but a dream.
- But this denoted a foregone conclusion.
- A shrewd doubt, though it be but a dream.
And this may help to thicken other
proofs that do demonstrate thinly.
I'll tear her all to pieces!
Nay, but be wise, yet we see
nothing done. She may be honest yet.
Tell me but this, have you not
sometimes seen a handkerchief...
...spotted with strawberries
in your wife's hand?
I gave her such a one. 'Twas my first gift.
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.
- Lf it be that...
- If it be that or any that was hers...
...it speaks against her
with the other proofs.
That the slave had 4o, ooo lives!
One is too poor, too weak for my revenge.
Now do I see 'tis true.
Look here, lago.
All my fond love...
...thus do I blow to heaven.
'Tis gone.
Arise, black vengeance, from thy hollow cell.
Yield up, o, love, thy crown and
hearted throne to tyrannous hate.
Swell, bosom, with thy fraught,
for 'tis of aspics' tongues!
IAGo: Pray, be content. OTHELLo: O, blood!
Blood!
- Blood!
- Patience, I say.
- Your mind perhaps may change.
- Never, lago.
Like to the Pontic sea...
...whose icy current and compulsive
course ne'er feels retiring ebb...
...but keeps due on to the
Propontic and the Hellespont...
...even so my bloody
thoughts, with violent pace...
...shall ne'er look back,
ne'er ebb to humble...
...love...
...till that a capable and
wide revenge swallow them up.
Now, by yond marble heaven...
...in the due reverence of a
sacred vow, I here engage my words.
Do not rise yet. Witness,
ever-burning lights above...
...you elements that clip us
round about, witness that here...
...lago 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 work soever.
I greet thy love...
...not with vain thanks, but
with acceptance bounteous.
And will upon the instant put thee to't.
Within these three days,
let me hear thee say...
...that Cassio is not alive.
My friend is dead, 'tis done as
you request. But let her live.
Damn her, lewd minx!
O, damn her! Damn her.
Come, go with me apart.
I will go furnish me with some swift
means of death for the fair devil.
Now art thou...
...my lieutenant.
I am your own...
...forever.
Where should I lose that
handkerchief, Emilia?
I know not, madam.
Believe me, I had rather lose
my purse full of crusadoes.
And, but my noble Moor is true of
mind and made of no such baseness...
...as jealous creatures are, 'twere
enough to put him to ill thinking.
- Is he not jealous?
- Who, he?
I think the sun where he was born
drew all such humors from him.
- Look, here he comes.
- I will not leave him now.
Let Cassio be called to him.
How is it with you, my lord?
Well, good my lady.
O, hardness to dissemble.
- How do you, Desdemona?
- Well, my good lord.
Give me your hand.
This hand is moist, my lady.
It yet hath felt no pain nor known no sorrow.
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 there's a young and sweating
devil here that commonly rebels.
'Tis a good hand...
...a frank one.
You may, indeed, say so, for 'twas
that hand that gave away my heart.
A liberal hand.
The hearts of old gave hands, but
our new heraldry is hands, not hearts.
I cannot speak of this.
Come, come, your promise.
What promise, chuck?
I have sent to bid Cassio
come speak with you.
I have a salt and sullen rheum
offends me. Lend me thy handkerchief.
- Here, my good lord.
- That which I gave you.
- I have it not about me.
- Not?
No, indeed, my lord.
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 loathly...
...and his spirits should
hunt after new fancies.
She, dying, gave it me...
...and bade me, when my fate
would have me wife, to give it her.
I did so and take heed on't.
Make it a darling like your precious eye.
To lose it or give't away...
...were such perdition as
nothing else could match.
- Is't possible?
- 'Tis true.
There's magic in the web of it.
The worms were hallowed
that did breed the silk.
And it was dyed in mummy...
...which the skillful
conserved of maidens' hearts.
Your face. Is't true?
Most veritable, therefore look to't well.
- Then would to God I had never seen it.
- Ha! Wherefore?
Why do you speak so startingly and rash?
Is't lost? Is't gone?
Speak, is't out o'th'way?
- Heaven bless us.
- Say you?
I say it is not lost.
But what and if it were?
- How?
- I say it is not lost.
Fetch't, let me see't.
Why, so I can, sir, but I will not now.
This is a trick to put me from my suit.
I pray you, let Cassio be received again.
Fetch me the handkerchief. My mind misgives.
- I pray, talk me of Cassio.
- The handkerchief!
- You'll never meet a more sufficient man.
- The handkerchief!
A man who all his time hath founded
his good fortunes on your love...
...shared dangers with you...
- Handkerchief!
- In sooth, you are to blame.
- Away!
Is not this man jealous?
DESDEMoNA: I ne'er saw this before.
Sure, there's some wonder
in this handkerchief.
I am most unhappy at the loss of it.
There is no other way, 'tis she
must do't. Go and importune her.
How now, good Cassio?
What's the news with you?
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 duty
of my heart, entirely honor.
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 favor as in humor altered.
Is my lord angry?
He went hence but now, and
certainly in strange unquietness.
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.
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
endues our other healthful members...
...even to a sense of pain.
Nay, we must think men are not gods...
...nor of them look for such
observances 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.
Pray heaven it be state
matters as you think...
...and no conception nor no
jealous toy concerning you.
Alas the day, I never gave him cause.
But jealous souls will not be answered so.
They are not ever jealous for the
cause, but jealous for they are jealous.
'Tis a monster begot upon
itself, born on itself.
Heaven keep that monster from othello's mind.
Milady, amen.
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 it's uttermost.
CASSlo: I humbly thank your ladyship.
- Emilia, come.
'Save you, friend Cassio.
What makes you from home?
How is it with you, my most fair Bianca?
I'faith, sweet love, I
was coming to your house.
And I was going to your lodging, Cassio.
What, keep a week away?
Seven days and nights?
- Eight score eight hours?
- Shh! Oh!
And lovers' absent hours more tedious
than the dial eight score times?
- O, weary reckoning.
- Pardon me, Bianca.
I have this while with
leaden thoughts been pressed.
But I shall in a more convenient
time strike off this score of absence.
Sweet Bianca, make me this work out.
Cassio, whence came this?
I know not, sweet. I found it in my chamber.
I like the work well. Ere it be demanded...
As like enough it will... I'd have it copied.
Take it, do't and leave me for this time.
I attend here.
Will you think so?
Think so, lago?
What, to kiss in private?
An unauthorized kiss.
Or to be naked with her friend in bed
an hour or more, not meaning any harm?
Naked in bed, lago, 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.
So they do nothing, 'tis a venial slip.
But if I give my wife a handkerchief...
What then?
Why, then, 'tis hers, my lord.
And, being hers, she may, I
think, bestow't on any man.
She is protectress of her
honor too. May she give that?
Her honor is an essence that's not seen.
They have it very oft that have it not.
- But for the handkerchief...
- oh!
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
infected house, boding to all.
- He had my handkerchief.
Ay, what of that?
That's not so good now.
What if I had said I had
seen him do you wrong?
Or heard him say...
- Hath he said anything?
- He hath, my lord.
But be you well assured,
no more than he'll unswear.
- What hath he said?
- Faith, that he did...
I know not what he did.
What?
What?
Lie...
- With her?
- With her...
...on her...
...what you will.
Lie with her?
Lie on her?
We say lie on her when they belie her.
Lie with her? Zounds, that's fulsome.
Handkerchief, confession, handkerchief.
To confess and be hanged for his labor.
Or first to be hanged and then to confess.
I tremble at it.
Nature would not invest herself
with 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.
Work on, my medicine, work.
How now, my lord. My lord, I say. Othello.
- How now, Cassio.
- What's the matter?
My lord is fallen into an epilepsy.
His second fit, he had one yesterday.
- Rub him about the temples.
- 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.
He will recover straight.
When he is gone, I would on
great occasion speak with you.
How now, general?
Have you not hurt your head?
Dost thou mock me?
I mock you? No, by heaven.
Would you would bear
your fortunes like a man!
A horned man's a monster and a beast.
There's many a beast then in a
populous city and many a civil monster.
- Did he confess?
- 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.
O, thou art wise, 'tis certain.
Stand you a while apart. Confine
yourself but in a patient list.
Whilst you were here
o'erwhelmed 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.
But encave yourself and note the
gibes, the jeers 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 all in all in
spleen and nothing of a man.
Dost thou hear, lago?
I will be found most
cunning in my patience...
...but... Dost thou hear?
- Most bloody.
That's not amiss...
...but yet keep time in all.
Will you withdraw?
Now will I question Cassio of Bianca...
...a housewife that by selling her
desires buys herself bread and clothes.
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
refrain from the excess of laughter.
Here he comes. As he shall
smile, othello shall go mad.
How do you now, lieutenant?
The worser that you give me the
addition whose want even kills me.
Ply Desdemona well and you are sure on't.
Now, if this suit lay in Bianca's
power, how quickly should you speed.
Alas, poor caitiff.
I never knew a woman love man so.
Alas, poor rogue. I think,
i'faith, she loves me.
IAGo: Do you hear, Cassio?
She gives it out that you shall
marry her. Do you intend it?
CASSlo: I marry her?
This is the monkey's own giving out.
She's persuaded I will marry her...
...out of her own love and
flattery, not out of my promise.
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 this bauble.
By this hand, she falls thus about my neck.
So hangs and lolls and weeps upon me...
...and also pulls and hales me.
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.
CASSlo: Well, I must leave her company.
- Before me.
- Look where she comes.
- 'Tis such another fitchew.
Marry, a perfumed one.
Now, what do you mean by this haunting of me?
What did you mean by this same
handkerchief you gave me even now?
O, I was a fine fool to take it.
I must take out the work on't.
A piece of work that you find it in your
chamber and not know who left it there.
This is some minx's token and
I must take out the work on't?
There. Give it your hobbyhorse.
By heaven, that should be my handkerchief.
Wheresoever you had
it, I'll take out no work on't.
How now, my sweet Bianca. How now.
And you'll come to supper tonight, you shall.
And you will not, come when
you are next prepared for.
IAGo: After her, after her.
- Faith, I must, she'll rail in the street else.
IAGo: Will you sup there?
- Faith, I intend so.
IAGo: Well, I may chance to see you,
for I would very fain speak with you.
- Prithee, come, will you?
- Go to, say no more.
How shall I murder him, lago?
Did you perceive how he laughed at his vice?
O, lago.
And did you see the handkerchief?
- Was that mine?
- Yours, by this hand.
And to see how he prizes
a foolish woman your wife.
She gave it him and he
hath giv'n it his whore.
I would have him nine years a-killing!
Fine woman, fair woman, a sweet woman.
- Nay, you must forget that.
- 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.
- Nay, that's not your way.
- 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.
- She's the worse for all this.
- A thousand, thousand times...
...and then, of so gentle a condition.
Ay, too gentle.
Nay, that's certain. But
yet the pity of it, lago.
O, lago...
...the pity of it, lago.
If you be so fond over her iniquity,
give her patent to offend...
...for if it touches not
you, it comes near nobody.
- I will chop her into messes! Cuckold me!
- O, 'tis foul in her!
- With mine officer!
- That's fouler.
Get me some poison this night.
I'll not expostulate with her lest her
body and beauty unprovide my mind again...
...this night, lago.
Do it not with poison.
Strangle her in her bed, even
the bed she hath contaminated.
Good.
Good.
The justice of it pleases.
Very good.
And for Cassio, let me be his undertaker.
You shall hear more by midnight.
Excellent, good.
What trumpet is that same?
Something from venice, sure.
'Tis Lodovico, come from the duke.
And see, your wife is with him.
God save the worthy general.
With all my heart.
The duke and senators of venice greet you.
I kiss the instrument of their pleasure.
How now, good cousin Lodovico,
what's the news with you?
I am very pleased to see you,
signor. Welcome to Cyprus.
I thank you.
How does Lieutenant Cassio?
Lives, sir.
Cousin, there's fallen between
him and my lord an unkind breach...
...but you shall make all well.
- Are you sure of that?
- My lord?
- "This fail you not to do..."
He did not call. He is busy in the paper.
- Division between thy lord and Cassio?
- A most unhappy one.
I would do much t'atone them,
for the love I bear to Cassio.
- Fire and brimstone!
- My lord?
Are you wise?
- What, is he angry?
- Maybe the letter moved him.
They do command him home,
deputing Cassio in his government.
By my troth, I'm glad on't.
- Indeed!
- My lord.
I'm glad to see you mad!
- Why, sweet othello?
- Devil!
DESDEMoNA: I have not deserved this.
My lord, this would not be believed in
venice, though I should swear I saw't.
'Tis very much. Make her amends, she weeps.
O, devil, devil!
If that the earth could
teem with women's tears...
...each drop she falls
would prove a crocodile!
Out of my sight!
I will not stay to offend you.
LoDo vlCo: Truly an obedient lady. I
do beseech your lordship call her back.
Mistress!
My lord.
What would you with her, sir?
- Who, I, my lord?
- Ay, sir.
You did wish that I should make her turn.
Sir, she can turn and turn,
and yet go on and turn again.
And she can weep, sir. Weep.
And she's obedient. As you
say, obedient, very obedient...
Proceed you in your
tears... Concerning this...
o, well-painted passion...
I am commanded here...
Get you away. I'll send for you anon.
Sir, I obey the mandate and will
return again to venice. Cass...
Hence, avaunt!
Cassio shall have my place.
And, sir, I do beseech tonight
that we may sup together.
You are welcome, sir, to Cyprus.
Goats and monkeys!
Is this the noble Moor whom our full
senate call all in all sufficient?
This the noble nature whom
passion could not shake?
Whose solid virtue the shot of accident
nor dart of chance could graze nor pierce?
IAGo: He is much changed.
Are his wits safe?
GRATIANo: Is he not light of brain?
He's that he is. I may not breathe
my censure what he might be.
- What, strike his wife?
- Faith, that was not so well...
...yet would I knew that
stroke would prove the worst.
Is it his use? Did the letters work
upon his blood and new-create this fault?
Alas, alas. It is not honesty in me
to speak what I have seen and known.
You shall observe him, and his
own courses shall denote him...
...so that I may save my speech.
I am sorry that I am deceived in him.
- You have seen nothing then?
- Nor ever heard, nor ever did suspect.
Yes, you have seen Cassio and she together.
But then I saw no harm. I heard each
syllable that breath made up between them.
- What, did they never whisper?
- Never.
- Nor send you o'th'way?
- Never.
To fetch her fan, her
gloves, her mask, nor nothing?
- Never, my lord.
- That's strange.
I durst, my lord, to wager she is
honest, lay down my soul at stake.
If you think other, remove the
thought. It doth abuse your bosom.
If any wretch have put this in your head...
...let heaven requite it
with the serpent's curse.
For if she be not honest, chaste
and true, there's no man happy.
Bid her come hither. Go.
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 have seen her do't.
My lord, what is your will?
OTHELLo: Pray, chuck, come hither.
What is your pleasure?
Let me see your eyes.
Look in my face.
- What horrible fancy's this?
OTHELLo: Some of your function.
Leave procreants alone and shut the door.
Cough or cry "hem" if any body come.
Your mystery, your mystery. Nay, dispatch.
Upon my knees, what doth your speech import?
I understand a fury in your
words, but not the words.
Why, what art thou?
Your wife, my lord, your true and loyal wife.
Come, swear it, damn thyself.
Lest being like one of heaven...
...the devils themselves should fear to
seize thee. Therefore be double-damned.
- Swear that thou art honest.
- Heaven doth know it.
Heaven truly knows that
thou art false as hell.
To whom, my lord? With whom? How am I false?
O, Desdemona.
Desdemonda. Away, away.
Alas, the heavy day. Why do you weep?
Am I the occasion of these tears, my lord?
Had it pleased heaven to
try me with afflictions...
...had they rained all kinds 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
part of my soul a drop of patience.
But alas, to make me a fixed
figure for the time of scorn...
...to point his slow unmoving finger at.
Yet I could 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 cherubim!
Ay, there look grim as hell!
My noble lord esteems me honest.
O, ay. As summer flies are in the
shambles, that quicken even with blowing.
O, thou weed, that art so lovely fair...
...and smell'st so sweet...
...that the sense aches at thee...
...would thou hadst ne'er been born!
Alas, what ignorant sin have I committed?
Was this fair paper, this most goodly
book, made to write "whore" upon?
What 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 wind, the bawdy wind
that kisses all it meets...
...is hushed within the hollow
mine of earth and will not hear it.
What committed? Lmpudent strumpet!
- By heaven, you do me wrong.
- Are you not a strumpet?
- No, as I am a Christian.
- What?
If to preserve this vessel
from any foul unlawful touch...
...be not to be a strumpet, I am none.
- Not a whore?
- No, as I shall be saved.
- Is't possible?
- O, heaven bless us.
I cry you mercy then:
I took you for that cunning whore
of venice that married with othello.
You, mistress, that have the office opposite
to Saint Peter and keep the gate of hell!
You, you, ay, you! We have done our course.
Here's money for your pains.
Pray you, turn the key and keep our counsel.
Alas, what does
this gentleman conceive?
How do you, madam? How do you, my sweet lady?
Faith, half asleep.
Good madam, what's the matter with my lord?
- With who?
- With my lord, madam.
Who is thy lord?
Why, he that is yours, sweet lady.
I have none. Do not talk to me, Emilia.
I cannot weep, nor answer have I
none, but what should go by water.
Prithee, tonight lay on my
bed our wedding sheets...
...remember...
...and call thy husband hither.
Here is a change indeed.
'Tis meet I should be used so, very meet.
How have I been behaved...
...that he might stick the
smallest opinion on my least misuse?
What is your pleasure,
madam? How is't with you?
I cannot tell.
Those that do teach young babes do
it with gentle means and easy tasks.
He might have chid me so, for, in
good faith, I am a child at chiding.
What's the matter, lady?
Alas, lago, my lord hath so bewhored her...
...thrown such despite and heavy terms
upon her, as true hearts cannot bear.
Am I that name, lago?
What name, fair lady?
Such as she says my lord did say I was.
He called her whore. A beggar could not
have laid such terms upon his callet.
- Why did he so?
- I do not know.
I am sure I am none such.
O, do not weep, do not weep. Alas the day.
Hath she forsook so many noble matches...
...her father, her country,
her friends, to be called whore?
- Would it not make one weep?
- It is my wretched fortune.
O, beshrew him for't. How
comes this trick upon him?
Heaven doth know.
I will be hanged if some eternal villain,
some busy and insinuating rogue...
...some cozening slave to get some
office, have not devised this slander.
- I'll be hanged else.
- Fie, there is no such man.
It is impossible.
DESDEMoNA: If any such
there be, heaven pardon him.
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 outrageous knave...
...some base notorious
knave, some scurvy fellow.
- Speak within door.
- O, fie.
Some such squire he was that turned
your wit the seamy side without...
...and made you to suspect me with the Moor.
You are a fool, go to.
O, good lago, what can I
do to win my lord again?
Good friend, go to him.
For, by this light of heaven,
I know not how I lost him.
Here I kneel.
If e'er my will did
trespass 'gainst his love...
...either in discourse or
thought or actual deed...
...or that mine eyes,
mine ears, or any sense...
...delighted them in any other form.
Or that I do not yet and
ever did and ever will...
Though he do shake me off
to beggarly divorcement.
- Love him dearly, comfort forswear me.
Unkindness may do much...
...and his unkindness may defeat
my life, but never taint my love.
I cannot say "whore."
It does abhor me now I speak the word.
To do the act that might the addition earn...
...not the world's mass
of vanity could make me.
I pray you, be content.
'Tis but his humor.
The business of the state does him
offense, and he doth chide with you.
- Lf 'twere no other...
- 'Tis but so, I warrant you.
Hark, how these instruments
summon you to supper.
The great messengers of venice stay the meat.
Go in and weep not, all things shall be well.
IAGo: How now, Roderigo?
I do not find that thou
deal'st justly with me.
What in the contrary?
Every day thou daff'st me
with some new device, lago.
And rather, as it seems to me,
keep'st from me all conveniency...
...than suppliest me with hope.
- You charge me most unjustly.
With naught but truth.
I have wasted myself out of means.
The jewels you have had from
me to deliver to Desdemona...
...would half have corrupted a votarist.
You have told me she hath received
them and returned me expectation...
...and comforts of respect and
acquaintance, but I find none.
Very well, go to. Very well.
"Very well, go to"? It is not
very well and cannot I go to.
By this hand, I say too very scurvy,
and I begin to find myself fobbed in it.
Very well.
I tell you, it is 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
shall seek satisfaction of you.
You have said now!
Ay, and I have said nothing but
what I protest intendment of doing!
Why, now I see there is mettle in thee...
...and to build on thee an even
better opinion than ever before.
Give me thy hand.
Roderigo, if thou hast that within thee...
...indeed, which I have greater
reason to believe now than ever...
I mean purpose, courage, valor.
- This night show it.
If thou the next night following
enjoyeth not Desdemona...
...take me from this world with
treachery and devise engines for my life.
Well, what is it? Is it within
the bounds of reason and compass?
Sir, there is a special
command come from venice...
...to depute Cassio in othello's place.
- Is that true?
- Ay.
Why, then othello and Desdemona
return again to venice.
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.
How do you mean, removing of him?
By making him uncapable of othello's place.
Knocking out his brains.
And that you would have me do?
Ay, and if you dare do
yourself a profit and a right.
He sups tonight with a harlot,
thither will I go to him.
If you will watch his going
thence... Which I shall fashion...
...to fall between 12 and 1.
- You may take him at your pleasure.
I shall 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...
...you shall feel bound to put it on him.
'Tis now high suppertime, the
night grows to waste. About it.
I will hear further reasons for this.
And you shall be satisfied.
I do beseech you, sir,
trouble yourself no further.
O, pardon me, 'twill do me good to walk.
Madam, good night. I
humbly thank your ladyship.
Your honor is most welcome.
OTHELLo: Will you walk, sir?
- Desdemona.
- My lord?
Get thee to bed on th'instant,
I will be returned forthwith.
Dismiss your attendant there. Look't be done.
I will, my lord.
How goes it now, madam? He
looks gentler than he did.
He says he will return incontinent.
He hath commanded me to go to
bed and bade me to dismiss you.
Dismiss me?
It was his bidding.
Therefore, good Emilia, fetch
me my nightly wearing, and adieu.
We must not now displease him.
- I would that you had never seen him.
- Well, so would not I...
...my love doth so approve him...
...that even his stubbornness,
his checks and frowns...
Prithee, unpin me.
- Have grace and favor in them.
I have laid those sheets
you bade me on the bed.
All's one.
Good faith...
...how foolish are our minds.
If I do die before thee, prithee
shroud me in one of those same sheets.
O, come, come you talk.
My mother had a maid called Barbara.
She was in love...
...and he she loved proved
mad and did forsake her.
She had a song of "Willow."
O, 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 go
hang my head all on one side...
...and sing it like poor Barbara.
Prithee, dispatch.
Shall I go fetch your nightgown?
- O, no, unpin me here.
This Lodovico is a proper man.
A very handsome man.
He speaks well.
I know a lady in venice would have
walked barefoot to Palestine...
...for a touch of his nether lip.
The poor soul sat sighing
By a sycamore tree
Sing all a green willow
Her hand on her bosom
Her head on her knee
The fresh streams ran by her
And murmured her moans
Sing all a green willow
Her salt tears fell from her
Which softened the stones
Lay by these.
Prithee, hie thee, he'll come anon.
Let nobody blame him
His scorn / approve
Nay, that's not next.
Hark! Who is't that knocks?
It is the wind.
/ called my love false love
And what said he then?
Sing all a green willow
/f / court moe women
You'll couch with moe men
So get thee gone.
Mine eyes do itch.
Doth that bode weeping?
'Tis neither here nor there.
O, I have heard it said so.
O, these men, these men.
Here, stand behind this
bulk. Straight will he come.
Wear thy good rapier bare, and put it home.
Be near at hand, I may miscarry in't.
Here, at thy hand. Be bold, take thy sword.
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 has a daily beauty in
his life that makes me ugly.
And besides, the Moor may unfold
me to him. There stand I in peril.
No, he must die.
Be it so.
I hear him coming.
Villain, thou diest!
That thrust had been mine enemy indeed,
but my coat is better than thou think'st.
I will make proof of thine.
RoDERIGo: I am slain.
No watch? No passage?
Damn! Murder!
Murder!
Murder! MAN 3: Help!
Who's there? Whose noise is
this that cries of murder?
- Here, here. For heaven's
sake, help me. MAN 4: Murder!
IAGo: What is the matter? What
are you, that cry so grievously?
Lago, I am undone, spoiled by villains.
O, me, lieutenant. What
villains have done this?
I think that one of them is
hereabout, he cannot make away.
Help me here.
That's one of them.
IAGo: O, murderous slave. MAN 1: Murder!
Help! Help!
Villain.
- Damned lago. O, inhuman dog. MAN 1: Help!
Kill men i'th'dark!? Where
be these bloody thieves?
Murder! Murder!
What may you be? Are you of good or evil?
As you shall prove us, praise us.
IAGo: Signor Lodovico?
- He, sir.
I cry you mercy. Here's
Cassio hurt by villains.
- Cassio.
- How is't, brother?
- My leg is cut in two.
- Marry, heaven forbid.
- Light, light, gentlemen.
What is the matter?!
- Who is't that cried?
- Who is't that cried?
O, my dear Cassio. O, my sweet Cassio.
IAGo: O, notable strumpet.
Cassio, may you suspect who they should be...
...that have thus have mangled you?
- No.
I am sorry to find you thus.
I have been to seek you.
Alas, he faints.
O, Cassio.
Gentlemen all, I do suspect
this trash to be a party in this.
Patience a while, good Cassio.
Come, come, lend me a light.
Know we this face or no?
Alas, my friend and my
dear countryman Roderigo.
- O, heaven, Roderigo.
- What! Of venice?
- Even he, sir. Did you know him?
- Know him? Ay.
Signor Gratiano, I cry you gentle pardon.
These bloody accidents must excuse
my manners for so neglecting you.
How is it, Cassio?
Some good man bear him carefully from hence.
I'll fetch the general's surgeon.
For you, mistress, save you your labor!
He that lies slain here,
Cassio, was my dear friend.
What malice was between you?
None in the world, nor do I know the man.
What, look you pale? O,
bear him within doors.
- No.
- Look you pale, mistress?
Behold her well, I pray
you. Do you see, gentlemen?
Nay, guiltiness will speak,
though tongues were out of use.
'Las, what's the matter?
What's the matter, husband?
Cassio has here been set on in the dark
by Roderigo and fellows that are scaped.
He's almost slain and Roderigo dead.
Alas, good gentleman! Alas, good Cassio!
This is the fruit of whoring.
Pray, Emilia, go know of
Cassio where he supped tonight.
What, do you shake at that?
He supped at my house,
but I therefore shake not.
O, did he so? I charge you go with her.
Cassio! Cassio!
- Kind gentlemen. BIANCA: Cassio!
Kind gentlemen, let's go
see poor Cassio dressed.
Emilia, run you to the citadel, tell
my lord and lady what hath happed.
Will you go on? I pray.
This is the night that either makes me...
...or fordoes me quite.
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 my 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 the rose, I
cannot give it vital growth again.
It needs must wither.
I'll smell it on the tree.
O, balmy breath...
...that dost almost persuade
Justice to break her sword.
Once more, once more.
Be thus when thou art dead...
...and I will kill thee, and love thee after.
Once more...
...and this the last.
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.
Who's there?
Othello?
Ay, Desdemona.
Will you come to bed, my lord?
Have you prayed tonight, Desdemona?
Ay, my good lord.
If you bethink yourself of any crime...
...unreconciled as yet to heaven
and grace, solicit for it straight.
Alas, my lord, what may you mean by that?
Well, do it, and be brief.
I will walk by.
I would not kill thy unprepared spirit.
No, heaven forfend, I
would not kill thy soul.
- Talk you of killing?
- Ay, I do.
Then heaven have mercy on me.
Amen, with all my heart.
If you say so, I hope you will not kill me.
And yet I fear you.
Why I should fear I know not,
since guiltiness I know not...
...and yet I feel I fear.
Think on thy sins.
But they are loves I bear to you.
And for that thou diest.
That death's unnatural that kills for loving.
- Peace, and be still!
- I will so.
What's the matter?
That handkerchief which
I so loved and gave thee...
...thou gav'st to Cassio.
No, by my life and soul.
Send for the man, and ask him.
Sweet soul, take heed, take heed of perjury.
- Thou art on thy deathbed.
- Ay, but not yet to die.
Yes, 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.
- Then Lord have mercy on me.
- I say, amen.
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.
By heaven, I saw my handkerchief in his hand.
O, perjured woman. Thou
dost stone my heart...
...and mak'st me call what
I intend to do a murder...
...which I thought a sacrifice.
- I saw the handkerchief!
- He found it then, I never gave it him.
Send for him hither. Let him confess a truth.
He hath confessed.
What, my lord?
That he hath used thee.
How? Unlawfully?
Ay.
He will not say so.
No, his mouth is stopped.
Honest lago hath ta'en order for't.
O, my fear interprets. What, is he dead?
Had all his hairs been lives, my
great revenge had stomach for them all.
O, alas! He is betrayed and I undone.
Out, strumpet. Weep'st
thou for him to my face?
- O, banish me, my lord, but kill me not.
- Down, strumpet!
- Kill me tomorrow.
- Nay, if you strive...
- But half an hour.
- Being done, there is no pause.
- But while I say one prayer!
- It is too late!
DESDEMoNA: O, lord...
...lord...
...lord.
My lord, my lord!
What, ho! My lord, my lord!
What voice 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...
What, ho! My lord, my lord!
So... Who's there?
O, good my lord, I'd speak with you.
Yes, 'tis Emilia. By and by!
She's dead.
'Tis like she comes to
speak of Cassio's death.
The noise was high.
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 have no wife.
O, insupportable.
O, heavy hour.
Methinks it should be now a
huge eclipse of sun and moon...
...and that th'affrighted
globe did yawn at alteration.
I do beseech you that I
may speak with you, good my lord.
I had forgot thee.
O, come in, Emilia.
O, good my lord, yonder's foul murder done.
- What, now?
- But now, my lord.
It is the very error of the moon.
She comes more near the Earth than
she was wont and makes men mad.
Cassio hath killed a young
venetian called Roderigo.
Roderigo killed? And Cassio killed?
No, Cassio is not killed.
Not Cassio killed!
Then murder's out of tune,
and sweet revenge grows harsh.
Falsely, falsely murdered.
Lord, what cry is that?
That? What?
Out and alas, that is my lady's voice.
Help! Help, help!
O, lady, lady, speak again.
Sweet Desdemona. O, sweet lady, speak.
A guiltless death I die.
But who hath done this deed?
Nobody.
I myself.
Commend me to my kind lord.
Why, how should she be murdered?
Alas, who knows?
You heard her say herself it was not I.
She said so. I must needs report the truth.
She's like a liar gone to burning hell.
'Twas I that killed her.
O, the more angel she,
and you the blacker devil.
She turned to folly...
...and she was a whore.
Thou dost belie her and thou art a devil.
She was false as water.
Thou art rash as fire,
to say that she was false.
O, she was heavenly true.
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.
- My husband?
- Thy husband.
That she was false to wedlock?
Ay, with Cassio.
Nay, 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.
- My husband.
- Ay, 'twas he that told me first.
An honest man he is, and hates the
slime that sticks on filthy deeds.
My husband.
What needs this iteration,
woman? I say thy husband.
Dost understand the word?
My friend, thy husband, honest, honest lago!
If he say so, may his pernicious
soul rot half a grain a day.
He lies to the heart!
She was too fond of her most filthy bargain!
Do thy worst. This deed of
thine is no more worthy heaven...
...than thou was worthy her.
- Peace, you were best.
Thou hast not half the 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 have thee known, though I lost 2o lives.
Help! Help!
The Moor has killed my
mistress! Murder! Murder!
MoNTANo: What is the matter?
How now, general.
O, are you come, lago? You have done well,
that men lay their murders on your neck.
- What is the matter?
- Disprove this villain, if thou be'st 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.
- I told him what I thought...
...and told no more than what
he found himself was true.
- But did you tell him she was false?
- I did.
You told a lie, an odious, damned lie!
Upon my soul, a wicked, wicked lie.
She false with Cassio.
Did you say with Cassio?
With Cassio. Go to, charm your tongue.
I will not charm my
tongue. I am bound to speak.
My mistress here lies murdered on her bed,
and your reports have set the murder on!
OTHELLo: Nay, stare not,
masters. It is true, indeed.
Villainy! Villainy!
GRATIANo: 'Tis a strange truth.
I think upon't, I think.
I smell't.
O, villainy.
I thought so then.
I'll kill myself for grief!
What, are you mad? I
charge you, get you home.
Good gentlemen, give me leave to speak.
'Tis proper I obey him, but not now.
Perchance, lago, I will ne'er go home.
Nay, lay thee down and roar.
Thou hast killed the sweetest
innocent that e'er did lift up eye.
O, she was foul!
I scarce did know you, uncle.
Here lies your niece, whose breath
indeed these hands have newly stopped.
Poor Desdemona.
I'm glad thy father's dead.
Did he live now, this sight would
make him do a desperate turn...
...yea, curse his better angel from
his side, and fall to reprobation.
'Tis pitiful, but yet lago
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.
O, God.
- O, heavenly God. IAGo:
Come, hold your peace.
'Twill out, 'twill out. I hold my peace?
No, I'll be in speaking liberal as the air!
Let heaven and men and
devils, let them all...
...all cry shame against me, yet I'll speak!
- Be wise, and get you home!
- I will not!
GRATIANo: Fie! Your sword upon a
woman? EMILIA: O, thou dull Moor...
...that handkerchief thou speak'st
of I found 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
it. IAGo: Villainous whore!
She give it Cassio?
No, alas, I found it and
I did give't my husband.
- Filth, thou liest!
- By heaven, I do not, I do not, gentlemen!
O, murderous coxcomb...
...what should such a fool
do with so good a woman?
Are there no stones in heaven...
...but what serve for the thunder?
Precious villain!
The woman falls, sure
he hath killed his wife.
Ay, ay.
Lay me by my mistress' side.
Come, guard the door without.
Let him not pass, but kill him rather.
I'll after that same villain,
for 'tis a damned slave.
What did thy song bode, lady?
Hark, canst thou hear me?
I will play the swan and die in music.
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, I die, I die.
I am not valiant neither...
...but every puny whipster gets my sword.
But why should honor outlive honesty?
Let it go all.
I have another weapon in this chamber.
It is a sword of Spain,
the ice-brook's temper.
Here it is.
Uncle, I must come forth!
If thou attempt
it, it will cost thee dear!
Thou hast no weapon,
and perforce must suffer!
Look in upon me then and speak to me,
or, naked as I am, I will assault thee.
- What's the matter?
- 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 2o times your stop!
Ah. 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 seamark 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?
Now...
...how dost thou look now?
O, ill-starred wench...
...pale as thy smock.
When we shall meet at compt...
...this look of thine will
hurl my soul from heaven...
...and fiends will snatch at it.
Cold, cold, my girl...
...even like thy chastity.
O, cursed, cursed slave.
Whip me, ye devils, from the
possession of this heavenly sight!
Blow me about in winds! Roast me in sulfur!
Wash me in steep-down gulfs of liquid fire!
O, Desdemon dead!
Desdemon dead! Dead!
Where is this rash and most unfortunate man?
OTHELLo: That's he that was othello.
Here I am.
Where is that viper? Bring the villain forth.
I look down towards his feet...
...but that's a fable.
If that thou be'st a
devil, I cannot kill thee.
I bleed, sir, but not killed.
I am not sorry neither. I'd have thee live...
...for in my sense 'tis happiness to die.
O, thou othello, thou wast once so good...
...fallen in the practice
of a damned slave...
...what should be said to thee?
Why, anything.
An honorable murderer, if you will.
For naught did I in hate, but all in honor.
This wretch hath part confessed his villainy.
Did you and he consent in Cassio's death?
- Ay.
- Dear general, I never gave you cause.
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?
Demand me nothing.
What you know, you know.
From this time forth I never will speak word.
- What, not to pray?
- Torments will ope thy lips.
Well, thou dost best.
How came you, Cassio, by a
handkerchief that was my wife's?
I found it in my chamber. And he
himself confessed it even now...
...that there he dropped it for a
purpose which wrought to his desire.
O, fool...
...fool...
...fool.
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.
Come, bring him away.
Soft you.
A word or two before you go.
I have done the state some
service and they know it.
No more of that.
I pray you, in your letters...
...when you shall these
unlucky deeds relate...
...speak of them as they are.
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...
...drop tears as fast as the
Arabian trees their medicinal 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 the throat
the circumcised dog...
...and smote him thus.
I kissed thee ere I killed thee.
No way but this...
...killing myself to die...
...upon a kiss.
This did I fear, but
thought he had no weapon...
...for he was great of heart.
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.
LoDo vlCo: Gratiano, keep the house and
seize upon the fortunes of the Moor...
...for they succeed to you.
To you, lord governor, remains the
censure of that 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.