The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works
Page 291
Leave procreants alone, and shut the door,
Cough or cry ‘Hem’ if anybody come.
Your mystery, your mystery—nay, dispatch.
Exit Emilia
DESDEMONA
Upon my knees, what doth your speech import?
I understand a fury in your words,
But not the words.
OTHELLO Why, what art thou?
DESDEMONA
Your wife, my lord, your true and loyal wife.
OTHELLO Come, swear it, damn thyself,
Lest, being like one of heaven, the devils themselves
Should fear to seize thee. Therefore be double-damned:
Swear thou art honest.
DESDEMONA Heaven doth truly know it. 40
OTHELLO
Heaven truly knows that thou art false as hell.
DESDEMONA
To whom, my lord? With whom? How am I false?
OTHELLO (weeping)
Ah, Desdemon, away, away, away!
DESDEMONA
Alas, the heavy day! Why do you weep?
Am I the motive of these tears, my lord?
If haply you my father do suspect
An instrument of this your calling back,
Lay not your blame on me. If you have lost him,
I have lost him too.
OTHELLO Had it pleased God
To try me with affliction; had He rained
All kind of sores and shames on my bare head,
Steeped me in poverty to the very lips,
Given to captivity me and my utmost hopes,
I should have found in some place of my soul
A drop of patience. But, alas, to make me
The fixed figure for the time of scorn
To point his slow and moving finger at—
Yet could I bear that too, well, very well.
But there where I have garnered up my heart,
Where either I must live or bear no life,
The fountain from the which my current runs
Or else dries up—to be discarded thence,
Or keep it as a cistern for foul toads
To knot and gender in! Turn thy complexion there,
Patience, thou young and rose-lipped cherubin,
Ay, here look grim as hell.
DESDEMONA
I hope my noble lord esteems me honest.
OTHELLO
O, ay—as summer flies are in the shambles,
That quicken even with blowing. O thou weed,
Who art so lovely fair, and smell‘st so sweet,
That the sense aches at thee—would thou hadst ne’er
been born!
DESDEMONA
Alas, what ignorant sin have I committed?
OTHELLO
Was this fair paper, this most goodly book,
Made to write ‘whore’ upon? What committed?
Committed? O thou public commoner,
I should make very forges of my cheeks,
That would to cinders burn up modesty,
Did I but speak thy deeds. What committed?
Heaven stops the nose at it, and the moon winks;
The bawdy wind, that kisses all it meets,
Is hushed within the hollow mine of earth
And will not hear’t. What committed?
DESDEMONA By heaven, you do me wrong.
OTHELLO Are not you a strumpet?
DESDEMONA No, as I am a Christian.
If to preserve this vessel for my lord
From any other foul unlawful touch
Be not to be a strumpet, I am none.
OTHELLO
What, not a whore?
DESDEMONA No, as I shall be saved.
OTHELLO Is’t possible?
DESDEMONA O heaven forgive us!
OTHELLO I cry you mercy then.
I took you for that cunning whore of Venice
That married with Othello. (Calling) You, mistress,
That have the office opposite to Saint Peter
And keeps the gate of hell,
Enter Emilia
you, you, ay, you.
We ha’ done our course. (Giving money) There’s
money for your pains.
I pray you, turn the key and keep our counsel.
Exit
EMILIA
Alas, what does this gentleman conceive?
How do you, madam? How do you, my good lady?
DESDEMONA Faith, half asleep.
EMILIA
Good madam, what’s the matter with my lord?
DESDEMONA
With who?
EMILIA Why, with my lord, madam.
DESDEMONA
Who is thy lord?
EMILIA He that is yours, sweet lady.
DESDEMONA
I ha’ none. Do not talk to me, Emilia.
I cannot weep, nor answers have I none
But what should go by water. Prithee tonight
Lay on my bed my wedding sheets, remember.
And call thy husband hither.
EMILIA Here’s a change indeed.
Exit
DESDEMONA
‘Tis meet I should be used so, very meet.
How have I been behaved, that he might stick
The small’st opinion on my least misuse?
Enter Iago and Emilia,
IAGO
What is your pleasure, madam? How is’t with you?
DESDEMONA
I cannot tell. Those that do teach young babes
Do it with gentle means and easy tasks.
He might ha’ chid me so, for, in good faith,
I am a child to chiding.
IAGO What is the matter, lady?
EMILIA
Alas, Iago, my lord hath so bewhored her,
Thrown such despite and heavy terms upon her,
That true hearts cannot bear it.
DESDEMONA Am I that name, Iago?
IAGO What name, fair lady?
DESDEMONA
Such as she said my lord did say I was.
EMILIA
He called her whore. A beggar in his drink
Could not have laid such terms upon his callet.
IAGO Why did he so?
DESDEMONA
I do not know. I am sure I am none such.
IAGO
Do not weep, do not weep. Alas the day!
EMILIA
Hath she forsook so many noble matches,
Her father and her country and her friends,
To be called whore? Would it not make one weep?
DESDEMONA
It is my wretched fortune.
IAGO Beshrew him for’t.
How comes this trick upon him?
DESDEMONA Nay, heaven doth know.
EMILIA
I will be hanged if some eternal villain,
Some busy and insinuating rogue,
Some cogging, cozening slave, to get some office,
Have not devised this slander. I will be hanged else.
IAGO
Fie, there is no such man. It is impossible.
DESDEMONA
If any such there be, heaven pardon him.
EMILIA
A halter pardon him, and hell gnaw his bones!
Why should he call her whore? Who keeps her
company?
What place, what time, what form, what likelihood?
The Moor’s abused by some most villainous knave,
Some base, notorious knave, some scurvy fellow.
O heaven, that such companions thou’dst unfold,
And put in every honest hand a whip
To lash the rascals naked through the world,
Even from the east to th’ west!
IAGO Speak within door.
EMILIA
O, fie upon them. Some such squire he was
That turned your wit the seamy side without,
And made you to suspect me with the Moor.
IAGO
You are
a fool. Go to.
DESDEMONA O God, Iago,
What shall I do to win my lord again?
Good friend, go to him; for by this light of heaven,
I know not how I lost him.
She kneels
Here I kneel.
If e‘er my will did trespass ’gainst his love,
Either in discourse of thought or actual deed,
Or that mine eyes, mine ears, or any sense
Delighted them in any other form,
Or that I do not yet, and ever did,
And ever will—though he do shake me off
To beggarly divorcement—love him dearly,
Comfort forswear me. Unkindness may do much,
And his unkindness may defeat my life,
But never taint my love.
[She rises]
I cannot say ‘whore’.
It does abhor me now I speak the word.
To do the act that might the addition earn,
Not the world’s mass of vanity could make me.
IAGO
I pray you, be content. ’Tis but his humour.
The business of the state does him offence,
And he does chide with you.
DESDEMONA If ’twere no other!
IAGO It is but so, I warrant.
Flourish within
Hark how these instruments summon you to supper.
The messengers of Venice stays the meat.
Go in, and weep not. All things shall be well.
Exeunt Desdemona and Emilia
Enter Roderigo
How now, Roderigo?
RODERIGO
I do not find that thou deal’st justly with me.
IAGO What in the contrary?
RODERIGO Every day thou daff‘st me with some device, Iago, and rather, as it seems to me now, keep’st from me all conveniency than suppliest me with the least advantage of hope. I will indeed no longer endure it, nor am I yet persuaded to put up in peace what already I have foolishly suffered.
IAGO Will you hear me, Roderigo?
RODERIGO Faith, I have heard too much, for your words and performances are no kin together.
IAGO You charge me most unjustly.
RODERIGO With naught but truth. I have wasted myself out of my means. The jewels you have had from me to deliver Desdemona would half have corrupted a votarist. You have told me she hath received ’em, and returned me expectations and comforts of sudden respect and acquaintance, but I find none. 195
IAGO Well, go to, very well.
RODERIGO ‘Very well’, ‘go to’! I cannot go to, man, nor ’tis not very well. Nay, I think it is scurvy, and begin to find myself fopped in it.
IAGO Very well.
RODERIGO I tell you ’tis not very well. I will make myself known to Desdemona. If she will return me my jewels, I will give over my suit and repent my unlawful solicitation. If not, assure yourself I will seek satisfaction of you.
IAGO You have said now.
RODERIGO Ay, and said nothing but what I protest intendment of doing.
IAGO Why, now I see there’s mettle in thee, and even from this instant do build on thee a better opinion than ever before. Give me thy hand, Roderigo. Thou hast taken against me a most just exception, but yet I protest I have dealt most directly in thy affair.
RODERIGO It hath not appeared.
IAGO I grant, indeed, it hath not appeared, and your suspicion is not without wit and judgement. But, Roderigo, if thou hast that in thee indeed which I have greater reason to believe now than ever—I mean purpose, courage, and vatour—this night show it. If thou the next night following enjoy not Desdemona, take me from this world with treachery, and devise engines for my life.
RODERIGO Well, what is it? Is it within reason and compass?
IAGO Sir, there is especial commission come from Venice to depute Cassio in Othello’s place.
RODERIGO Is that true? Why then, Othello and Desdemona return again to Venice.
IAGO O no, he goes into Mauritania, and takes away with him the fair Desdemona, unless his abode be lingered here by some accident, wherein none can be so determinate as the removing of Cassio.
RODERIGO How do you mean‘removing’ of him?
IAGO Why, by making him uncapable of Othello’s place—knocking out his brains.
RODERIGO And that you would have me to do.
IAGO Ay, if you dare do yourself a profit and a right. He sups tonight with a harlotry, and thither will I go to him. He knows not yet of his honourable fortune. If you will watch his going thence, which I will fashion to fall out between twelve and one, you may take him at your pleasure. I will be near, to second your attempt, and he shall fall between us. Come, stand not amazed at it, but go along with me. I will show you such a necessity in his death that you shall think yourself bound to put it on him. It is now high supper-time, and the night grows to waste. About it.
RODERIGO I will hear further reason for this.
IAGO And you shall be satisfied.
Exeunt
4.3 Enter Othello, Desdemona, Lodovico, Emilia, and attendants
LODOVICO
I do beseech you, sir, trouble yourself no further.
OTHELLO
O, pardon me, ’twill do me good to walk.
LODOVICO (to Desdemona)
Madam, good night. I humbly thank your ladyship.
DESDEMONA
Your honour is most welcome.
OTHELLO Will you walk, sir?
O, Desdemona!
DESDEMONA My lord?
OTHELLO Get you to bed on th’instant. I will be returned forthwith. Dismiss your attendant there. Look’t be done.
DESDEMONA I will, my lord.
Exeunt Othello, Lodovico, and attendants
EMILIA How goes it now? He looks gentler than he did.
DESDEMONA
He says he will return incontinent.
He hath commanded me to go to bed,
And bid me to dismiss you.
EMILIA Dismiss me?
DESDEMONA
It was his bidding. Therefore, good Emilia,
Give me my nightly wearing, and adieu. is
We must not now displease him.
EMILIA I would you had never seen him.
DESDEMONA
So would not I. My love doth so approve him
That even his stubbornness, his checks, his frowns—
Prithee unpin me—have grace and favour in them.
Emilia helps Desdemona to undress
EMILIA
I have laid those sheets you bade me on the bed.
DESDEMONA
All’s one. Good faith, how foolish are our minds!
If I do die before thee, prithee shroud me
In one of these same sheets.
EMILIA Come, come, you talk.
DESDEMONA
My mother had a maid called Barbary.
She was in love, and he she loved proved mad
And did forsake her. She had a song of willow.
An old thing ’twas, but it expressed her fortune,
And she died singing it. That song tonight
Will not go from my mind. I have much to do
But to go hang my head all at one side
And sing it, like poor Barbary. Prithee, dispatch.
EMILIA
Shall I go fetch your nightgown?
DESDEMONA No. Unpin me here.
This Lodovico is a proper man.
EMILIA
A very handsome man.
DESDEMONA He speaks well.
EMILIA I know a lady in Venice would have walked barefoot to Palestine for a touch of his nether lip.
DESDEMONA (sings)
‘The poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree,
Sing all a green willow.
Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee,
Sing willow, willow, willow.
The fresh streams ran by her and murmured her
moans,
Sing willow, willow,
willow.
Her salt tears fell from her and softened the stones,
Sing willow’—
Lay by these.—
‘willow, willow.’
Prithee, hie thee. He’ll come anon.
‘Sing all a green willow must be my garland.
‘Let nobody blame him, his scorn I approve’—
Nay, that’s not next. Hark, who is’t that knocks?
EMILIA It’s the wind.
DESDEMONA (sings)
‘I called my love false love, but what said he then?
Sing willow, willow, willow.
If I court more women, you’ll couch with more men.’
So, get thee gone. Good night. Mine eyes do itch. 56
Doth that bode weeping?
EMILIA ’Tis neither here nor there.
DESDEMONA
I have heard it said so. O, these men, these men!
Dost thou in conscience think—ten me, Emilia—
That there be women do abuse their husbands
In such gross kind?
EMILIAThere be some such, no question.
DESDEMONA
Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world?
EMILIA
Why, would not you?
DESDEMONA No, by this heavenly light.
EMILIA Nor I neither, by this heavenly light. I might do’t
as well i’th’ dark.
DESDEMONA
Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world?
EMILIA The world’s a huge thing. It is a great price for
a small vice.
DESDEMONA In truth, I think thou wouldst not.
EMILIA In truth, I think I should, and undo’t when I had done. Marry, I would not do such a thing for a joint ring, nor for measures of lawn, nor for gowns, petticoats, nor caps, nor any petty exhibition; but for all the whole world? Ud’s pity, who would not make her husband a cuckold to make him a monarch? I should venture purgatory for’t.
DESDEMONA
Beshrew me if I would do such a wrong
For the whole world.
EMILIA Why, the wrong is but a wrong i‘th’ world, and having the world for your labour, ’tis a wrong in your own world, and you might quickly make it right.
DESDEMONA
I do not think there is any such woman.
EMILIA
Yes, a dozen, and as many
To th’ vantage as would store the world they played
for.
But I do think it is their husbands’ faults
If wives do fall. Say that they slack their duties,
And pour our treasures into foreign laps,
Or else break out in peevish jealousies,
Throwing restraint upon us; or say they strike us,