The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works
Page 426
Give me my nightly wearing, and adieu.
We must not now displease him.
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EMILIA Ay. – Would you had never seen him!
DESDEMONA
So would not I: my love doth so approve him
That even his stubbornness, his checks, his frowns
– Prithee unpin me – have grace and favour.
EMILIA
I have laid those sheets you bade me on the bed.
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DESDEMONA
All’s one. Good faith, how foolish are our minds!
If I do die before thee, prithee shroud me
In one of these same sheets.
EMILIA Come, come, you talk.
DESDEMONA
My mother had a maid called Barbary,
She was in love, and he she loved proved mad
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And did forsake her. She had a song of ‘willow’,
An old thing ’twas, but it expressed her fortune
And she died singing it. That song tonight
Will not go from my mind. I have much to do
But to go hang my head all at one side
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And sing it like poor Barbary. Prithee dispatch.
EMILIA Shall I go fetch your night-gown?
DESDEMONA No, unpin me here.
EMILIA This Lodovico is a proper man. A very
handsome man.
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DESDEMONA He speaks well.
EMILIA I know a lady in Venice would have walked
barefoot to Palestine for a touch of his nether lip.
DESDEMONA [Sings.]
The poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree,
Sing all a green willow:
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Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee,
Sing willow, willow, willow.
The fresh streams ran by her and murmured her moans,
Sing willow, willow, willow:
Her salt tears fell from her and softened the stones,
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Sing willow, willow, willow.
[Speaks.] Lay by these.
Willow, willow –
[Speaks.] Prithee hie thee: he’ll come anon.
Sing all a green willow must be my garland.
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Let nobody blame him, his scorn I approve –
[Speaks.] Nay, that’s not next. Hark, who is’t that knocks?
EMILIA It’s the wind.
DESDEMONA [Sings.]
I called my love false love; but what said he then? Sing willow, willow, willow:
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If I court moe women, you’ll couch with moe men.
[Speaks.] So, get thee gone; good night. Mine eyes do itch,
Doth that bode weeping?
EMILIA ’Tis neither here nor there.
DESDEMONA
I have heard it said so. O, these men, these men!
Dost thou in conscience think – tell me, Emilia –
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That there be women do abuse their husbands
In such gross kind?
EMILIA There be some such, no question.
DESDEMONA
Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world?
EMILIA Why, would not you?
DESDEMONA No, by this heavenly light!
EMILIA Nor I neither, by this heavenly light:
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I might do’t as well i’th’ dark.
DESDEMONA
Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world?
EMILIA The world’s a huge thing: it is a great price
For a small vice.
DESDEMONA Good troth, I think thou wouldst not.
EMILIA By my troth, I think I should, and undo’t when
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I had done. Marry, I would not do such a thing for a
joint-ring, nor for measures of lawn, nor for gowns,
petticoats, nor caps, nor any petty exhibition. But for
all the whole world? ud’s pity, who would not make
her husband a cuckold to make him a monarch? I
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should venture purgatory for’t.
DESDEMONA Beshrew me, if I would do such a wrong
For the whole world!
EMILIA Why, the wrong is but a wrong i’th’ world; and
having the world for your labour, ’tis a wrong in your
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own world, and you might quickly make it right.
DESDEMONA I do not think there is any such woman.
EMILIA Yes, a dozen, and as many to th’ vantage as
would store the world they played for.
But I do think it is their husbands’ faults
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If wives do fall. Say that they slack their duties
And pour our treasures into foreign laps;
Or else break out in peevish jealousies,
Throwing restraint upon us; or say they strike us,
Or scant our former having in despite,
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Why, we have galls: and though we have some grace
Yet have we some revenge. Let husbands know
Their wives have sense like them: they see, and smell,
And have their palates both for sweet and sour
As husbands have. What is it that they do
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When they change us for others? Is it sport?
I think it is. And doth affection breed it?
I think it doth. Is’t frailty that thus errs?
It is so too. And have not we affections?
Desires for sport? and frailty, as men have?
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Then let them use us well: else let them know,
The ills we do, their ills instruct us so.
DESDEMONA
Good night, good night. God me such usage send
Not to pick bad from bad, but by bad mend!
Exeunt.
5.1 Enter IAGO and RODERIGO.
IAGO
Here, stand behind this bulk, straight will he come.
Wear thy good rapier bare, and put it home;
Quick, quick, fear nothing, I’ll be at thy elbow.
It makes us or it mars us, think on that
And fix most firm thy resolution.
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RODERIGO Be near at hand, I may miscarry in’t.
IAGO Here, at thy hand: be bold, and take thy stand.
[Retires.]
RODERIGO I have no great devotion to the deed
And yet he hath given me satisfying reasons:
’Tis but a man gone. Forth, my sword: he dies.
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IAGO
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
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Of gold and jewels that I bobbed from him
As gifts to Desdemona:
It must not be. If Cassio do remain
He hath a daily beauty in his life
That makes me ugly; and besides, the Moor
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May unfold me to him – there stand I in much peril.
No, he must die. Be’t so! I hear him coming.
Enter CASSIO.
RODERIGO I know his gait, ’tis he. Villain, thou diest!
[Makes a thrust at Cassio.]
CASSIO That thrust had been mine enemy indeed
But that my coat is better than thou know’st:
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I will make proof of thine.
[Draws, and wounds Roderigo.]
RODERIGO O, I am slain!
[Iago from behind wounds Cassio in the leg, and exit.]
CASSIO
I am maimed for ever! Help, ho! murder! murder!
Enter OTHELLO.
OTHELLO The voice of Cassio. Iago keeps his word.
RODERIGO O, v
illain that I am!
OTHELLO It is even so.
CASSIO O, help ho! light! a surgeon!
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OTHELLO ’Tis he. O brave Iago, honest and just,
That hast such noble sense of thy friend’s wrong!
Thou teachest me. Minion, your dear lies dead,
And your unblest fate hies; strumpet, I come.
Forth of my heart those charms, thine eyes, are
blotted,
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Thy bed, lust-stained, shall with lust’s blood be
spotted. Exit.
Enter LODOVICO and GRATIANO.
CASSIO
What ho, no watch, no passage? murder, murder!
GRATIANO
’Tis some mischance, the voice is very direful.
CASSIO O help!
LODOVICO Hark!
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RODERIGO O wretched villain!
LODOVICO Two or three groan. It is a heavy night;
These may be counterfeits, let’s think’t unsafe
To come in to the cry without more help.
RODERIGO Nobody come? then shall I bleed to death.
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Enter IAGO, with a light.
LODOVICO Hark!
GRATIANO
Here’s one comes in his shirt, with light and weapons.
IAGO
Who’s there? Whose noise is this that cries on murder?
LODOVICO We do not know.
IAGO Did not you hear a cry?
CASSIO Here, here! for heaven’s sake help me!
IAGO What’s the matter?
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GRATIANO This is Othello’s ancient, as I take it.
LODOVICO The same indeed, a very valiant fellow.
IAGO What are you here that cry so grievously?
CASSIO Iago? O, I am spoiled, undone by villains!
Give me some help.
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IAGO O me, lieutenant! What villains have done this?
CASSIO I think that one of them is hereabout
And cannot make away.
IAGO O treacherous villains!
What are you there? Come in, and give some help.
RODERIGO O, help me here!
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CASSIO That’s one of them.
IAGO O murderous slave! O villain!
[Stabs Roderigo.]
RODERIGO O damned Iago! O inhuman dog!
IAGO
Kill men i’th’ dark? Where be these bloody thieves?
How silent is this town! Ho, murder, murder!
What may you be? Are you of good or evil?
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LODOVICO As you shall prove us, praise us.
IAGO Signior Lodovico?
LODOVICO He, sir.
IAGO I cry you mercy: here’s Cassio hurt by villains.
GRATIANO Cassio?
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IAGO How is’t, brother?
CASSIO My leg is cut in two.
IAGO Marry, heaven forbid!
Light, gentlemen, I’ll bind it with my shirt.
Enter BIANCA.
BIANCA What is the matter, ho? who is’t that cried?
IAGO Who is’t that cried?
BIANCA O my dear Cassio!
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My sweet Cassio! O Cassio, Cassio, Cassio!
IAGO O notable strumpet! Cassio, may you suspect
Who they should be that have thus mangled you?
CASSIO No.
GRATIANO I am sorry to find you thus;
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I have been to seek you.
IAGO Lend me a garter. So. – O for a chair
To bear him easily hence!
BIANCA Alas, he faints! O Cassio, Cassio, Cassio!
IAGO Gentlemen all, I do suspect this trash
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To be a party in this injury.
Patience awhile, good Cassio. Come, come,
Lend me a light. Know we this face, or no?
Alas, my friend and my dear countryman,
Roderigo? No – yes sure! – O heaven, Roderigo!
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GRATIANO What, of Venice?
IAGO Even he, sir. Did you know him?
GRATIANO Know him? Ay.
IAGO Signior Gratiano? I cry you gentle pardon:
These bloody accidents must excuse my manners
That so neglected you.
GRATIANO I am glad to see you.
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IAGO How do you, Cassio? O, a chair, a chair!
GRATIANO Roderigo?
IAGO
He, he, ’tis he. [A chair is brought in.]