The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works

by William Shakespeare

  DESDEMONA

  Tonight, my lord?

  DUKE

  This night.

  OTHELLO

  With all my heart.

  DUKE

  At nine i’th’ morning here we’ll meet again.

  Othello, leave some officer behind,

  And he shall our commission bring to you,

  And such things else of quality and respect

  As doth import you.

  OTHELLO

  So please your grace, my ensign.

  A man he is of honesty and trust.

  To his conveyance I assign my wife,

  With what else needful your good grace shall think

  To be sent after me.

  DUKE

  Let it be so.

  Good night to everyone. (To Brabanzio) And, noble

  signor,

  If virtue no delighted beauty lack,

  Your son-in-law is far more fair than black.

  A SENATOR

  Adieu, brave Moor. Use Desdemona well.

  BRABANZIO

  Look to her, Moor, if thou hast eyes to see.

  She has deceived her father, and may thee.

  Exeunt Duke, Brabanzio, Cassio, Senators, and officers

  OTHELLO

  My life upon her faith. Honest Iago,

  My Desdemona must I leave to thee.

  I prithee let thy wife attend on her,

  And bring them after in the best advantage.

  Come, Desdemona. I have but an hour

  Of love, of worldly matter and direction

  To spend with thee. We must obey the time.

  Exeunt Othello and Desdemona

  RODERIGO Iago.

  IAGO What sayst thou, noble heart?

  RODERIGO What will I do, think’st thou?

  IAGO Why, go to bed and sleep.

  RODERIGO I will incontinently drown myself.

  IAGO If thou dost, I shall never love thee after. Why, thou silly gentleman!

  RODERIGO It is silliness to live when to live is torment; and then have we a prescription to die when death is our physician.

  IAGO O, villainous! I ha’ looked upon the world for four times seven years, and since I could distinguish betwixt a benefit and an injury I never found man that knew how to love himself. Ere I would say I would drown myself for the love of a guinea-hen, I would change my humanity with a baboon.

  RODERIGO What should I do? I confess it is my shame to be so fond, but it is not in my virtue to amend it.

  IAGO Virtue? A fig! ’Tis in ourselves that we are thus or thus. Our bodies are our gardens, to the which our wills are gardeners; so that if we will plant nettles or sow lettuce, set hyssop and weed up thyme, supply it with one gender of herbs or distract it with many, either to have it sterile with idleness or manured with industry, why, the power and corrigible authority of this lies in our wills. If the beam of our lives had not one scale of reason to peise another of sensuality, the blood and baseness of our natures would conduct us to most preposterous conclusions. But we have reason to cool our raging motions, our carnal stings, our unbitted lusts; whereof I take this that you call love to be a sect or scion.

  RODERIGO It cannot be.

  IAGO It is merely a lust of the blood and a permission of the will. Come, be a man. Drown thyself? Drown cats and blind puppies. I have professed me thy friend, and I confess me knit to thy deserving with cables of perdurable toughness. I could never better stead thee than now. Put money in thy purse. Follow thou the wars, defeat thy favour with an usurped beard. I say, put money in thy purse. It cannot be long that Desdemona should continue her love to the Moor—put money in thy purse—nor he his to her. It was a violent commencement in her, and thou shalt see an answerable sequestration—put but money in thy purse. These Moors are changeable in their wills—fill thy purse with money. The food that to him now is as luscious as locusts shall be to him shortly as bitter as coloquintida. She must change for youth. When she is sated with his body, she will find the error of her choice. Therefore put money in thy purse. If thou wilt needs damn thyself, do it a more delicate way than drowning. Make all the money thou canst. If sanctimony and a frail vow betwixt an erring barbarian and a super-subtle Venetian be not too hard for my wits and all the tribe of hell, thou shalt enjoy her; therefore make money. A pox o’ drowning thyself—it is clean out of the way. Seek thou rather to be hanged in compassing thy joy than to be drowned and go without her.

  RODERIGO Wilt thou be fast to my hopes if I depend on the issue?

  IAGO Thou art sure of me. Go, make money. I have told thee often, and I re-tell thee again and again, I hate the Moor. My cause is hearted, thine hath no less reason. Let us be conjunctive in our revenge against him. If thou canst cuckold him, thou dost thyself a pleasure, me a sport. There are many events in the womb of time, which will be delivered. Traverse, go, provide thy money. We will have more of this tomorrow. Adieu.

  RODERIGO

  Where shall we meet i’th’ morning?

  IAGO At my lodging.

  RODERIGO

  I’ll be with thee betimes.

  IAGO Go to, farewell—

  Do you hear, Roderigo?

  RODERIGO

  I’ll sell all my land.

  Exit

  IAGO

  Thus do I ever make my fool my purse—

  For I mine own gained knowledge should profane

  If I would time expend with such a snipe

  But for my sport and profit. I hate the Moor,

  And it is thought abroad that ’twixt my sheets

  He has done my office. I know not if’t be true,

  But I, for mere suspicion in that kind,

  Will do as if for surety. He holds me well:

  The better shall my purpose work on him.

  Cassio’s a proper man. Let me see now,

  To get his place, and to plume up my will

  In double knavery—how, how? Let’s see.

  After some time to abuse Othello’s ears

  That he is too familiar with his wife;

  He hath a person and a smooth dispose

  To be suspected, framed to make women false.

  The Moor is of a free and open nature,

  That thinks men honest that but seem to be so,

  And will as tenderly be led by th’ nose

  As asses are.

  I ha’t. It is ingendered. Hell and night

  Must bring this monstrous birth to the world’s light.

  Exit

  2.1 Enter below Montano, Governor of Cyprus; two other gentlemen ⌈above⌉

  MONTANO

  What from the cape can you discern at sea?

  FIRST GENTLEMAN

  Nothing at all. It is a high-wrought flood.

  I cannot ’twixt the heaven and the main

  Descry a sail.

  MONTANO

  Methinks the wind hath spoke aloud at land.

  A fuller blast ne’er shook our battlements.

  If it ha’ ruffianed so upon the sea,

  What ribs of oak, when mountains melt on them,

  Can hold the mortise? What shall we hear of this?

  SECOND GENTLEMAN

  A segregation of the Turkish fleet;

  For do but stand upon the foaming shore,

  The chidden billow seems to pelt the clouds,

  The wind-shaked surge with high and monstrous mane

  Seems to cast water on the burning Bear

  And quench the guards of th’ever-fixèd Pole.

  I never did like molestation view

  On the enchafèd flood.

  MONTANO

  If that the Turkish fleet

  Be not ensheltered and embayed, they are drowned.

  It is impossible to bear it out.

  Enter a third Gentleman

  THIRD GENTLEMAN News, lads! Our wars are done.

  The desperate tempest hath so banged the Turks

  That their designment halts. A noble ship of Venice

  Hath se
en a grievous wrack and sufferance

  On most part of their fleet.

  MONTANO How, is this true?

  THIRD GENTLEMAN The ship is here put in,

  A Veronessa. Michael Cassio,

  Lieutenant to the warlike Moor Othello,

  Is come on shore; the Moor himself at sea,

  And is in full commission here for Cyprus.

  MONTANO

  I am glad on’t; ’tis a worthy governor.

  THIRD GENTLEMAN

  But this same Cassio, though he speak of comfort

  Touching the Turkish loss, yet he looks sadly,

  And prays the Moor be safe, for they were parted

  With foul and violent tempest.

  MONTANO

  Pray heavens he be,

  For I have served him, and the man commands

  Like a full soldier. Let’s to the sea-side, ho!—

  As well to see the vessel that’s come in

  As to throw out our eyes for brave Othello,

  Even till we make the main and th’aerial blue

  An indistinct regard.

  THIRD GENTLEMAN

  Come, let’s do so,

  For every minute is expectancy

  Of more arrivance.

  Enter Cassio

  CASSIO

  Thanks, you the valiant of this warlike isle

  That so approve the Moor! O, let the heavens

  Give him defence against the elements,

  For I have lost him On a dangerous sea.

  MONTANO Is he well shipped?

  CASSIO

  His barque is stoutly timbered, and his pilot

  Of very expert and approved allowance.

  Therefore my hopes, not surfeited to death,

  Stand in bold cure.

  VOICES (within)

  A sail, a sail, a sail!

  CASSIO What noise?

  A GENTLEMAN

  The town is empty. On the brow o‘th’ sea

  Stand ranks of people, and they cry ‘A sail!’

  CASSIO

  My hopes do shape him for the governor.

  A shot

  A GENTLEMAN

  They do discharge their shot of courtesy—

  Our friends, at least.

  CASSIO I pray you, sir, go forth,

  And give us truth who ’tis that is arrived.

  A GENTLEMAN I shall.

  Exit

  MONTANO

  But, good lieutenant, is your general wived?

  CASSIO

  Most fortunately. He hath achieved a maid

  That paragons description and wild fame,

  One that excels the quirks of blazoning pens,

  And in th’essential vesture of creation

  Does tire the engineer.

  Enter Gentleman

  How now, who has put in?

  GENTLEMAN

  ’Tis one Iago, ensign to the general.

  CASSIO

  He’s had most favourable and happy speed.

  Tempests themselves, high seas, and howling winds,

  The guttered rocks and congregated sands,

  Traitors ensteeped to enclog the guiltless keel,

  As having sense of beauty do omit

  Their mortal natures, letting go safely by

  The divine Desdemona.

  MONTANO

  What is she?

  CASSIO

  She that I spake of, our great captain’s captain,

  Left in the conduct of the bold Iago,

  Whose footing here anticipates our thoughts

  A sennight’s speed. Great Jove, Othello guard,

  And swell his sail with thine own powerful breath,

  That he may bless this bay with his tall ship,

  Make love’s quick pants in Desdemona’s arms,

  Give renewed fire to our extincted spirits,

  And bring all Cyprus comfort.

  Enter Desdemona, Iago, Emilia, and Roderigo

  O, behold,

  The riches of the ship is come on shore!

  You men of Cyprus, let her have your knees.

  Montano and the Gentlemen make curtsy to Desdemona

  Hail to thee, lady, and the grace of heaven

  Before, behind thee, and on every hand

  Enwheel thee round!

  DESDEMONA

  I thank you, valiant Cassio.

  What tidings can you tell me of my lord?

  CASSIO

  He is not yet arrived, nor know I aught

  But that he’s well and will be shortly here.

  DESDEMONA

  O, but I fear—how lost you company?

  CASSIO

  The great contention of the sea and skies

  Parted our fellowship.

  VOICES (within) A sail, a sail!

  CASSIO But hark, a sail.

  A shot

  A GENTLEMAN

  They give their greeting to the citadel.

  This likewise is a friend.

  CASSIO

  See for the news.

  Exit Gentleman

  Good ensign, you are welcome. (Kissing Emilia)

  Welcome, mistress.

  Let it not gall your patience, good Iago,

  That I extend my manners. ’Tis my breeding

  That gives me this bold show of courtesy.

  IAGO

  Sir, would she give you so much of her lips

  As of her tongue she oft bestows on me,

  You would have enough.

  DESDEMONA Alas, she has no speech!

  IAGO In faith, too much.

  I find it still when I ha’ leave to sleep.

  Marry, before your ladyship, I grant,

  She puts her tongue a little in her heart,

  And chides with thinking.

  EMILIA

  You ha’ little cause to say so.

  IAGO

  Come on, come on. You are pictures out of door,

  Bells in your parlours; wildcats in your kitchens,

  Saints in your injuries; devils being offended,

  Players in your housewifery, and hussies in your beds.

  DESDEMONA

  O, fie upon thee, slanderer!

  IAGO

  Nay, it is true, or else I am a Turk.

  You rise to play and go to bed to work.

  EMILIA

  You shall not write my praise.

  IAGO No, let me not.

  DESDEMONA

  What wouldst write of me, if thou shouldst praise me?

  IAGO

  O, gentle lady, do not put me to’t,

  For I am nothing if not critical.

  DESDEMONA

  Come on, essay—there’s one gone to the harbour?

  IAGO Ay, madam.

  DESDEMONA

  I am not merry, but I do beguile

  The thing I am by seeming otherwise.

  Come, how wouldst thou praise me?

  IAGO

  I am about it, but indeed my invention

  Comes from my pate as birdlime does from frieze—

  It plucks out brains and all. But my muse labours,

  And thus she is delivered:

  If she be fair and wise, fairness and wit,

  The one’s for use, the other useth it.

  DESDEMONA Well praised! How if she be black and witty?

  IAGO

  If she be black and thereto have a wit,

  She’ll find a white that shall her blackness fit.

  DESDEMONA

  Worse and worse.

  EMILIA

  How if fair and foolish?

  IAGO

  She never yet was foolish that was fair,

  For even her folly helped her to an heir.

  DESDEMONA These are old fond paradoxes, to make fools laugh i’th’ alehouse.

  What miserable praise hast thou for her

  That’s foul and foolish?

  IAGO

  There’s none so foul and foolish thereunto,

  But does foul pranks whic
h fair and wise ones do.

  DESDEMONA O heavy ignorance! Thou praisest the worst best. But what praise couldst thou bestow on a deserving woman indeed—one that, in the authority of her merit, did justly put on the vouch of very malice itself?

  IAGO

  She that was ever fair and never proud,

  Had tongue at will and yet was never loud,

  Never lacked gold and yet went never gay,

  Fled from her wish, and yet said ‘Now I may’;

  She that, being angered, her revenge being nigh,

  Bade her wrong stay and her displeasure fly;

  She that in wisdom never was so frail

  To change the cod’s head for the salmon’s tail;

  She that could think and ne’er disclose her mind,

  See suitors following, and not look behind—

  She was a wight, if ever such wights were—

  DESDEMONA To do what?

  IAGO

  To suckle fools, and chronicle small beer.

  DESDEMONA O most lame and impotent conclusion! Do not learn of him, Emilia, though he be thy husband. How say you, Cassio, is he not a most profane and liberal counsellor?

  CASSIO He speaks home, madam. You may relish him more in the soldier than in the scholar.

  Cassio and Desdemona talk apart

  IAGO (aside) He takes her by the palm. Ay, well said—whisper. With as little a web as this will I ensnare as great a fly as Cassio. Ay, smile upon her, do. I will gyve thee in thine own courtship. You say true, ‘tis so indeed. If such tricks as these strip you out of your lieutenantry, it had been better you had not kissed your three fingers so oft, which now again you are most apt to play the sir in. Very good, well kissed, an excellent curtsy, ’tis so indeed; yet again your fingers to your lips? Would they were clyster-pipes for your sake.

  Trumpets within

  (Aloud) The Moor—I know his trumpet.

  CASSIO ’Tis truly so.

  DESDEMONA

  Let’s meet him and receive him.

  CASSIO Lo where he comes!

  Enter Othello and attendants

  OTHELLO (to Desdemona)

  O my fair warrior!

  DESDEMONA My dear Othello.

  OTHELLO

  It gives me wonder great as my content

  To see you here before me. O my soul’s joy,

  If after every tempest come such calms,

  May the winds blow till they have wakened death,

  And let the labouring barque climb hills of seas

  Olympus-high, and duck again as low

  As hell’s from heaven. If it were now to die

  ’Twere now to be most happy, for I fear

  My soul hath her content so absolute

  That not another comfort like to this