Complete Plays, The

Home > Fiction > Complete Plays, The > Page 94
Complete Plays, The Page 94

by William Shakespeare


  That by your virtuous means I may again

  Exist, and be a member of his love

  Whom I with all the office of my heart

  Entirely honour: I would not be delay’d.

  If my offence be of such mortal kind

  That nor my service past, nor present sorrows,

  Nor purposed merit in futurity,

  Can ransom me into his love again,

  But to know so must be my benefit;

  So shall I clothe me in a forced content,

  And shut myself up in some other course,

  To fortune’s alms.

  Desdemona

  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 favour as in humour alter’d.

  So help me every spirit sanctified,

  As I have spoken for you all my best

  And stood within the blank of his displeasure

  For my free speech! you must awhile be patient:

  What I can do I will; and more I will

  Than for myself I dare: let that suffice you.

  Iago

  Is my lord angry?

  Emilia

  He went hence but now,

  And certainly in strange unquietness.

  Iago

  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

  Puff’d his own brother:— and can he be 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.

  Exit Iago

  Something, sure, of state,

  Either from Venice, or some unhatch’d practise

  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 indues

  Our other healthful members even to that sense

  Of pain: nay, we must think men are not gods,

  Nor of them look for such observances

  As fit 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 suborn’d the witness,

  And he’s indicted falsely.

  Emilia

  Pray heaven it be state-matters, as you think,

  And no conception nor no jealous toy

  Concerning you.

  Desdemona

  Alas the day! I never gave him cause.

  Emilia

  But jealous souls will not be answer’d so;

  They are not ever jealous for the cause,

  But jealous for they are jealous: ’tis a monster

  Begot upon itself, born on itself.

  Desdemona

  Heaven keep that monster from Othello’s mind!

  Emilia

  Lady, amen.

  Desdemona

  I will go seek him. Cassio, walk hereabout:

  If I do find him fit, I’ll move your suit

  And seek to effect it to my uttermost.

  Cassio

  I humbly thank your ladyship.

  Exeunt Desdemona and Emilia

  Enter Bianca

  Bianca

  Save you, friend Cassio!

  Cassio

  What make you from home?

  How is it with you, my most fair Bianca?

  I’ faith, sweet love, I was coming to your house.

  Bianca

  And I was going to your lodging, Cassio.

  What, keep a week away? seven days and nights?

  Eight score eight hours? and lovers’ absent hours,

  More tedious than the dial eight score times?

  O weary reckoning!

  Cassio

  Pardon me, Bianca:

  I have this while with leaden thoughts been press’d:

  But I shall, in a more continuate time,

  Strike off this score of absence. Sweet Bianca,

  Giving her Desdemona’s handkerchief

  Take me this work out.

  Bianca

  O Cassio, whence came this?

  This is some token from a newer friend:

  To the felt absence now I feel a cause:

  Is’t come to this? Well, well.

  Cassio

  Go to, woman!

  Throw your vile guesses in the devil’s teeth,

  From whence you have them. You are jealous now

  That this is from some mistress, some remembrance:

  No, in good troth, Bianca.

  Bianca

  Why, whose is it?

  Cassio

  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’ld have it copied:

  Take it, and do’t; and leave me for this time.

  Bianca

  Leave you! wherefore?

  Cassio

  I do attend here on the general;

  And think it no addition, nor my wish,

  To have him see me woman’d.

  Bianca

  Why, I pray you?

  Cassio

  Not that I love you not.

  Bianca

  But that you do not love me.

  I pray you, bring me on the way a little,

  And say if I shall see you soon at night.

  Cassio

  ’Tis but a little way that I can bring you;

  For I attend here: but I’ll see you soon.

  Bianca

  ’Tis very good; I must be circumstanced.

  Exeunt

  ACT IV

  SCENE I. CYPRUS. BEFORE THE CASTLE.

  Enter Othello and Iago

  Iago

  Will you think so?

  Othello

  Think so, Iago!

  Iago

  What,

  To kiss in private?

  Othello

  An unauthorized kiss.

  Iago

  Or to be naked with her friend in bed

  An hour or more, not meaning any harm?

  Othello

  Naked in bed, Iago, 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.

  Iago

  So they do nothing, ’tis a venial slip:

  But if I give my wife a handkerchief,—

  Othello

  What then?

  Iago

  Why, then, ’tis hers, my lord; and, being hers,

  She may, I think, bestow’t on any man.

  Othello

  She is protectress of her honour too:

  May she give that?

  Iago

  Her honour is an essence that’s not seen;

  They have it very oft that have it not:

  But, for the handkerchief,—

  Othello

  By heaven, I would most gladly have forgot it.

  Thou said’st, it comes o’er my memory,

  As doth the raven o’er the infected house,

  Boding to all — he had my handkerchief.

  Iago

  Ay, what of that?

  Othello

  That’s not so good now.

  Iago

  What,

  If I had said I had seen him do you wrong?

  Or heard him say,— as knaves be such abroad,

  Who having, by their own importunate suit,

  Or voluntary dotage of some mistress,

  Convinced or supplied them, cannot choose

  But they must blab —

  Othello />
  Hath he said any thing?

  Iago

  He hath, my lord; but be you well assured,

  No more than he’ll unswear.

  Othello

  What hath he said?

  Iago

  ’Faith, that he did — I know not what he did.

  Othello

  What? what?

  Iago

  Lie —

  Othello

  With her?

  Iago

  With her, on her; what you will.

  Othello

  Lie with her! lie on her! We say lie on her, when they belie her. Lie with her! that’s fulsome. — Handkerchief — confessions — handkerchief!— To confess, and be hanged for his labour;— first, to be hanged, and then to confess.— I tremble at it. Nature would not invest herself in such shadowing passion without some instruction. It is not words that shake me thus. Pish! Noses, ears, and lips. — Is’t possible?— Confess — handkerchief!— O devil!—

  Falls in a trance

  Iago

  Work on,

  My medicine, work! Thus credulous fools are caught;

  And many worthy and chaste dames even thus,

  All guiltless, meet reproach. What, ho! my lord!

  My lord, I say! Othello!

  Enter Cassio

  How now, Cassio!

  Cassio

  What’s the matter?

  Iago

  My lord is fall’n into an epilepsy:

  This is his second fit; he had one yesterday.

  Cassio

  Rub him about the temples.

  Iago

  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 a little while,

  He will recover straight: when he is gone,

  I would on great occasion speak with you.

  Exit Cassio

  How is it, general? have you not hurt your head?

  Othello

  Dost thou mock me?

  Iago

  I mock you! no, by heaven.

  Would you would bear your fortune like a man!

  Othello

  A horned man’s a monster and a beast.

  Iago

  There’s many a beast then in a populous city,

  And many a civil monster.

  Othello

  Did he confess it?

  Iago

  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.

  Othello

  O, thou art wise; ’tis certain.

  Iago

  Stand you awhile 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. Do but encave yourself,

  And mark the fleers, the gibes, 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 you are all in all in spleen,

  And nothing of a man.

  Othello

  Dost thou hear, Iago?

  I will be found most cunning in my patience;

  But — dost thou hear?— most bloody.

  Iago

  That’s not amiss;

  But yet keep time in all. Will you withdraw?

  Othello retires

  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:

  Re-enter Cassio

  As he shall smile, Othello shall go mad;

  And his unbookish jealousy must construe

  Poor Cassio’s smiles, gestures and light behavior,

  Quite in the wrong. How do you now, lieutenant?

  Cassio

  The worser that you give me the addition

  Whose want even kills me.

  Iago

  Ply Desdemona well, and you are sure on’t.

  Speaking lower

  Now, if this suit lay in Bianco’s power,

  How quickly should you speed!

  Cassio

  Alas, poor caitiff!

  Othello

  Look, how he laughs already!

  Iago

  I never knew woman love man so.

  Cassio

  Alas, poor rogue! I think, i’ faith, she loves me.

  Othello

  Now he denies it faintly, and laughs it out.

  Iago

  Do you hear, Cassio?

  Othello

  Now he importunes him

  To tell it o’er: go to; well said, well said.

  Iago

  She gives it out that you shall marry hey:

  Do you intend it?

  Cassio

  Ha, ha, ha!

  Othello

  Do you triumph, Roman? do you triumph?

  Cassio

  I marry her! what? a customer! Prithee, bear some charity to my wit: do not think it so unwholesome. Ha, ha, ha!

  Othello

  So, so, so, so: they laugh that win.

  Iago

  ’Faith, the cry goes that you shall marry her.

  Cassio

  Prithee, say true.

  Iago

  I am a very villain else.

  Othello

  Have you scored me? Well.

  Cassio

  This is the monkey’s own giving out: she is persuaded I will marry her, out of her own love and flattery, not out of my promise.

  Othello

  Iago beckons me; now he begins the story.

  Cassio

  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 the bauble, and, by this hand, she falls me thus about my neck —

  Othello

  Crying ‘O dear Cassio!’ as it were: his gesture imports it.

  Cassio

  So hangs, and lolls, and weeps upon me; so hales, and pulls me: ha, ha, ha!

  Othello

  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.

  Cassio

  Well, I must leave her company.

  Iago

  Before me! look, where she comes.

  Cassio

  ’Tis such another fitchew! marry a perfumed one.

  Enter Bianca

  What do you mean by this haunting of me?

  Bianca

  Let the devil and his dam haunt you! What did you mean by that same handkerchief you gave me even now? I was a fine fool to take it. I must take out the work?— A likely piece of work, that you should 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? There; give it your hobby-horse: wheresoever you had it, I’ll take out no work on’
t.

  Cassio

  How now, my sweet Bianca! how now! how now!

  Othello

  By heaven, that should be my handkerchief!

  Bianca

  An you’ll come to supper to-night, you may; an you will not, come when you are next prepared for.

  Exit

  Iago

  After her, after her.

  Cassio

  ’Faith, I must; she’ll rail in the street else.

  Iago

  Will you sup there?

  Cassio

  ’Faith, I intend so.

  Iago

  Well, I may chance to see you; for I would very fain speak with you.

  Cassio

  Prithee, come; will you?

  Iago

  Go to; say no more.

  Exit Cassio

  Othello

  [Advancing] How shall I murder him, Iago?

  Iago

  Did you perceive how he laughed at his vice?

  Othello

  O Iago!

  Iago

  And did you see the handkerchief?

  Othello

  Was that mine?

  Iago

  Yours by this hand: and to see how he prizes the foolish woman your wife! she gave it him, and he hath given it his whore.

  Othello

  I would have him nine years a-killing.

  A fine woman! a fair woman! a sweet woman!

  Iago

  Nay, you must forget that.

  Othello

  Ay, let her rot, and perish, and be damned to-night; 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.

  Iago

  Nay, that’s not your way.

  Othello

  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:—

  Iago

  She’s the worse for all this.

  Othello

  O, a thousand thousand times: and then, of so gentle a condition!

  Iago

  Ay, too gentle.

  Othello

  Nay, that’s certain: but yet the pity of it, Iago!

  O Iago, the pity of it, Iago!

  Iago

  If you are so fond over her iniquity, give her patent to offend; for, if it touch not you, it comes near nobody.

  Othello

  I will chop her into messes: cuckold me!

  Iago

  O, ’tis foul in her.

  Othello

  With mine officer!

  Iago

  That’s fouler.

  Othello

  Get me some poison, Iago; this night: I’ll not expostulate with her, lest her body and beauty unprovide my mind again: this night, Iago.

  Iago

  Do it not with poison, strangle her in her bed, even the bed she hath contaminated.

  Othello

  Good, good: the justice of it pleases: very good.

  Iago

  And for Cassio, let me be his undertaker: you shall hear more by midnight.

 

‹ Prev