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 thou 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, assay.—There’s one gone to the harbour?
IAGO.Ay, madam.
DESDEMONA.I am not merry, but I do beguileThe thing I am, by seeming otherwise.—Come, how wouldst thou praise me?
IAGO.I am about it, but indeed, my inventionComes from my pate as birdlime does from frieze,It plucks out brains and all: but my Muse labours,And thus she is deliver’d.If she be fair and wise, fairness and wit,The one’s for use, the other useth it.
DESDEMONA.Well prais’d! 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 help’d her to an heir.
DESDEMONA.These are old fond paradoxes to make fools laugh i’ the alehouse. Whatmiserable praise hast thou for her that’s foul and foolish?
IAGO.There’s none so foul and foolish thereunto,But does foul pranks which fair and wise ones do.
DESDEMONA.O heavy ignorance! Thou praisest the worst best. But what praisecouldst thou bestow on a deserving woman indeed, one that in theauthority of her merit did justly put on the vouch of very maliceitself?
IAGO.She that was ever fair and never proud,Had tongue at will and yet was never loud,Never lack’d gold and yet went never gay,Fled from her wish, and yet said, “Now I may”;She that, being anger’d, her revenge being nigh,Bade her wrong stay and her displeasure fly;She that in wisdom never was so frailTo 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 wight 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 profaneand liberal counsellor?
CASSIO.He speaks home, madam. You may relish him more in the soldier than inthe scholar.
IAGO.[_Aside._] He takes her by the palm. Ay, well said, whisper. With aslittle a web as this will I ensnare as great a fly as Cassio. Ay, smileupon 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 yourlieutenantry, it had been better you had not kissed your three fingersso oft, which now again you are most apt to play the sir in. Very good;well kissed, an excellent courtesy! ’Tis so, indeed. Yet again yourfingers to your lips? Would they were clyster-pipes for your sake!
[_Trumpets within._]
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.O my fair warrior!
DESDEMONA.My dear Othello!
OTHELLO.It gives me wonder great as my contentTo see you here before me. O my soul’s joy!If after every tempest come such calms,May the winds blow till they have waken’d death!And let the labouring bark climb hills of seasOlympus-high, and duck again as lowAs hell’s from heaven! If it were now to die,’Twere now to be most happy, for I fearMy soul hath her content so absoluteThat not another comfort like to thisSucceeds in unknown fate.
DESDEMONA.The heavens forbidBut that our loves and comforts should increaseEven as our days do grow!
OTHELLO.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 [_They kiss._]That e’er our hearts shall make!
IAGO.[_Aside._] O, you are well tun’d now,But I’ll set down the pegs that make this music,As honest as I am.
OTHELLO.Come, let us to the castle.—News, friends, our wars are done, the Turks are drown’d.How does my old acquaintance of this isle?Honey, you shall be well desir’d in Cyprus;I have found great love amongst them. O my sweet,I prattle out of fashion, and I doteIn mine own comforts.—I prithee, good Iago,Go to the bay and disembark my coffers.Bring thou the master to the citadel;He is a good one, and his worthinessDoes challenge much respect.—Come, Desdemona,Once more well met at Cyprus.
[_Exeunt Othello, Desdemona and Attendants._]
IAGO.Do thou meet me presently at the harbour. Come hither. If thou be’stvaliant—as, they say, base men being in love have then a nobility intheir natures more than is native to them—list me. The lieutenanttonight watches on the court of guard: first, I must tell thee this:Desdemona is directly in love with him.
RODERIGO.With him? Why, ’tis not possible.
IAGO.Lay thy finger thus, and let thy soul be instructed. Mark me with whatviolence she first loved the Moor, but for bragging, and telling herfantastical lies. And will she love him still for prating? Let not thydiscreet heart think it. Her eye must be fed. And what delight shallshe have to look on the devil? When the blood is made dull with the actof sport, there should be, again to inflame it and to give satiety afresh appetite, loveliness in favour, sympathy in years, manners, andbeauties; all which the Moor is defective in: now, for want of theserequired conveniences, her delicate tenderness will find itself abused,begin to heave the gorge, disrelish and abhor the Moor, very naturewill instruct her in it, and compel her to some second choice. Now sir,this granted (as it is a most pregnant and unforced position) whostands so eminently in the degree of this fortune as Cassio does? aknave very voluble; no further conscionable than in putting on the mereform of civil and humane seeming, for the better compassing of his saltand most hidden loose affection? Why, none, why, none! A slipper andsubtle knave, a finder out of occasions; that has an eye can stamp andcounterfeit advantages, though true advantage never present itself: adevilish knave! Besides, the knave is handsome, young, and hath allthose requisites in him that folly and green minds look after. Apestilent complete knave, and the woman hath found him already.
RODERIGO.I cannot believe that in her, she is full of most blessed condition.
IAGO.Blest fig’s end! the wine she drinks is made of grapes: if she had beenblessed, she would never have loved the Moor. Blessed pudding! Didstthou not see her paddle with the palm of his hand? Didst not mark that?
RODERIGO.Yes, that I did. But that was but courtesy.
IAGO.Lechery, by this hand. An index and obscure prologue to the history oflust and foul thoughts. They met so near with their lips that theirbreaths embrac’d together. Villainous thoughts, Roderigo! When thesemutualities so marshal the way, hard at hand comes the master and mainexercise, the incorporate conclusion. Pish! But, sir, be you ruled byme. I have brought you from Venice. Watch you tonight. For the command,I’ll lay’t upon you. Cassio knows you not. I’ll not be far from you. Doyou find some occasion to anger Cassio, either by speaking too loud, ortainting his discipline, or from what other course you please, whichthe time shall more favourably minister.
RODERIGO.Well.
IAGO.Sir, he is rash, and very sudden in choler, and haply with histruncheon may strike at you: provoke him that he may, for even out ofthat will I cause these of Cyprus to mutiny, whose qualification shallcome into no true taste again but by the displanting of Cassio. Soshall you have a shorter journey to your desires by the means I shallthen have to prefer them, and the impediment most profitably removed,without the which there were no expectation of our prosperity.
RODERIGO.I will do this, if I can bring it to any opportunity.
IAGO.I warrant thee. Meet me by and by at the citadel: I must fetch hisnecessaries ashore. Farewell.
RODERIGO.Adieu.
[_Exit._]
IAGO.That Cassio loves her, I do well believe it;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, he’ll prove to DesdemonaA most dear husband. Now, I do love her too,Not out of absolute lust (though peradventureI stand accountant for as great a sin)But partly led to diet my revenge,For that I do suspect the lusty MoorHath leap’d into my seat. The thought whereofDoth, like a poisonous mineral, gnaw my inwards,And nothing can or shall content my soulTill I am even’d with him, wife for wife,Or, failing so, yet that I put the MoorAt least into a jealousy so strongThat judgement cannot cure. Which thing to do,If this poor trash of Venice, whom I trashFor 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 night-cap too)Make the Moor thank me, love me, and reward meFor making him egregiously an assAnd practicing upon his peace and quietEven to madness. ’Tis here, but yet confus’d.Knavery’s plain face is never seen till us’d.
[_Exit._]
SCENE II. A street.
Enter Othello’s Herald with a proclamation.
HERALD.It is Othello’s pleasure, our noble and valiant general, that uponcertain tidings now arrived, importing the mere perdition of theTurkish fleet, every man put himself into triumph: some to dance, someto make bonfires, each man to what sport and revels his addition leadshim. For besides these beneficial news, it is the celebration of hisnuptial. So much was his pleasure should be proclaimed. All offices areopen, and there is full liberty of feasting from this present hour offive till the bell have told eleven. Heaven bless the isle of Cyprusand our noble general Othello!
[_Exit._]
SCENE III. A Hall in the Castle.
Enter Othello, Desdemona, Cassio and Attendants.
OTHELLO.Good Michael, look you to the guard tonight.Let’s teach ourselves that honourable stop,Not to outsport discretion.
CASSIO.Iago hath direction what to do.But notwithstanding with my personal eyeWill I look to’t.
OTHELLO.Iago is most honest.Michael, good night. Tomorrow with your earliestLet me have speech with you. [_To Desdemona._] Come, my dear love,The purchase made, the fruits are to ensue;That profit’s yet to come ’tween me and you.—Good night.
[_Exeunt Othello, Desdemona and Attendants._]
Enter Iago.
CASSIO.Welcome, Iago. We must to the watch.
IAGO.Not this hour, lieutenant. ’Tis not yet ten o’ th’ clock. Our generalcast us thus early for the love of his Desdemona; who let us nottherefore blame: he hath not yet made wanton the night with her; andshe is sport for Jove.
CASSIO.She’s a most exquisite lady.
IAGO.And, I’ll warrant her, full of game.
CASSIO.Indeed, she is a most fresh and delicate creature.
IAGO.What an eye she has! methinks it sounds a parley to provocation.
CASSIO.An inviting eye, and yet methinks right modest.
IAGO.And when she speaks, is it not an alarm to love?
CASSIO.She is indeed perfection.
IAGO.Well, happiness to their sheets! Come, lieutenant, I have a stoup ofwine; and here without are a brace of Cyprus gallants that would fainhave a measure to the health of black Othello.
CASSIO.Not tonight, good Iago. I have very poor and unhappy brains fordrinking. I could well wish courtesy would invent some other custom ofentertainment.
IAGO.O, they are our friends; but one cup: I’ll drink for you.
CASSIO.I have drunk but one cup tonight, and that was craftily qualified too,and behold, what innovation it makes here: I am unfortunate in theinfirmity, and dare not task my weakness with any more.
IAGO.What, man! ’Tis a night of revels. The gallants desire it.
CASSIO.Where are they?
IAGO.Here at the door. I pray you, call them in.
CASSIO.I’ll do’t; but it dislikes me.
[_Exit._]
IAGO.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 offenceAs my young mistress’ dog. Now my sick fool Roderigo,Whom love hath turn’d almost the wrong side out,To Desdemona hath tonight carous’dPotations pottle-deep; and he’s to watch:Three lads of Cyprus, noble swelling spirits,That hold their honours in a wary distance,The very elements of this warlike isle,Have I tonight fluster’d with flowing cups,And they watch too. Now, ’mongst this flock of drunkards,Am I to put our Cassio in some actionThat may offend the isle. But here they come:If consequence do but approve my dream,My boat sails freely, both with wind and stream.
Enter Cassio, Montano and Gentlemen; followed by Servant with wine.
CASSIO.’Fore God, they have given me a rouse already.
MONTANO.Good faith, a little one; not past a pint, as I am a soldier.
IAGO.Some wine, ho![_Sings._]
_And let me the cannikin clink, clink,And let me the cannikin clink, clink:A soldier’s a man,O, man’s life’s but a span,Why then let a soldier drink._
Some wine, boys!
CASSIO.’Fore God, an excellent song.
IAGO.I learned it in England, where indeed they are most potent in potting:your Dane, your German, and your swag-bellied Hollander,—drink, ho!—arenothing to your English.
CASSIO.Is your Englishman so expert in his drinking?
IAGO.Why, he drinks you, with facility, your Dane dead drunk; he sweats notto overthrow your Almain; he gives your Hollander a vomit ere the nextpottle can be filled.
CASSIO.To the health of our general!
MONTANO.I am for it, lieutenant; and I’ll do you justice.
IAGO.O sweet England!
[_Sings._]
_King Stephen was a worthy peer,His breeches cost him but a crown;He held them sixpence all too dear,With that he call’d the tailor lown.He was a wight of high renown,And thou art but of low degree:’Tis pride that pulls the country down,Then take thine auld cloak about thee._
Some wine, ho!
CASSIO.’Fore God, this is a more exquisite song than the other.
IAGO.Will you hear ’t again?
CASSIO.No, for I hold him to be unworthy of his place that does those things.Well, God’s above all, and there be souls must be saved, and there besouls must not be saved.
IAGO.It’s true, good lieutenant.
CASSIO.For mine own part, no offence to the general, nor any man of quality, Ihope to be saved.
IAGO.And so do I too, lieutenant.
CASSIO.Ay, but, by your leave, not before me; the lieutenant is to be savedbefore the ancient. Let’s have no more of this; let’s to our affairs.Forgive us our sins! Gentlemen, let’s look to our business. Do notthink, gentlemen, I am drunk. This is my ancient, this is my righthand, and this is my left. I am not drunk now. I can stand well enough,and I speak well enough.
ALL.Excellent well.
CASSIO.Why, very well then. You must not think, then, that I am drunk.
[_Exit._]
MONTANO.To the platform, masters. Come, let’s set the watch.
IAGO.You see this fellow that is gone before,He is a soldier fit to stand by CæsarAnd give direction: and do but see his vice,’Tis to his virtue a just equinox,The one as long as th’ other. ’Tis pity of him.I fear the trust Othello puts him in,On some odd time of his infirmity,Will shake this island.
MONTANO.But is he often thus?
IAGO.’Tis evermore the prologue to his sleep:He’ll watch the horologe a double setIf drink rock not his cradle.
MONTANO.It were wellThe general were put in mind of it.Perhaps he sees it not, or his good naturePrizes the virtue that appears in Cassio,And looks not on his evils: is not this true?
Enter Roderigo.
IAGO.[_Aside to him._] How now, Roderigo?I pray you, after the lieutenant; go.
[_Exit Roderigo._]
MONTANO.And ’tis great pity that the noble MoorShould hazard such a place as his own secondWith one of an ingraft infirmity:It were an honest action to say soTo the Moor.
IAGO.Not I, for this fair island.I do love Cassio well and would do muchTo cure him of this evil. But, hark! What noise?
[_Cry within_: “Help! help!”]
Enter Cassio, driving in Roderigo.
CASSIO.Zounds, you rogue, you rascal!
MONTANO.What’s the matter, lieutenant?
CASSIO.A knave teach me my duty! I’ll beat the knave into a twiggen bottle.
RODERIGO.Beat me?
CASSIO.Dost thou prate, rogue?
[_Striking Roderigo._]
MONTANO.Nay, good lieutenant;I pray you, sir, hold your hand.
CASSIO.Let me go, sir,Or I’ll knock you o’er the mazard.
MONTANO.Come, come, you’re drunk.
CASSIO.Drunk?
[_They fight._]
IAGO.[_Aside to Roderigo._] Away, I say! Go out and cry a mutiny.
[_Exit Roderigo._]
Nay, good lieutenant, God’s will, gentlemen.Help, ho!—Lieutenant,—sir,—Montano,—sir:—Help, masters! Here’s a goodly watch indeed!
[_A bell rings._]
Who’s that which rings the bell?—Diablo, ho!The town will rise. God’s will, lieutenant, hold,You will be sham’d forever.
Enter Othello and Attendants.
OTHELLO.What is the matter here?
MONTANO.Zounds, I bleed still, I am hurt to the death.
OTHELLO.Hold, for your lives!
IAGO.Hold, ho! lieutenant,—sir,—Montano,—gentlemen,—Have you forgot all place of sense and duty?Hold! The general speaks to you; hold, hold, for shame!
OTHELLO.Why, how now, ho! From whence ariseth this?Are we turn’d Turks, and to ourselves do thatWhich heaven hath forbid the Ottomites?For Christian shame, put by this barbarous brawl:He that stirs next to carve for his own rageHolds his soul light; he dies upon his motion.Silence that dreadful bell, it frights the isleFrom her propriety. What is the matter, masters?Honest Iago, that looks dead with grieving,Speak, who began this? On thy love, I charge thee.
IAGO.I do not know. Friends all but now, even now,In quarter, and in terms like bride and groomDevesting them for bed; and then, but now,As if some planet had unwitted men,Swords out, and tilting one at other’s breast,In opposition bloody. I cannot speakAny beginning to this peevish odds;And would in action glorious I had lostThose legs that brought me to a part of it!
OTHELLO.How comes it, Michael, you are thus forgot?
CASSIO.I pray you, pardon me; I cannot speak.
OTHELLO.Worthy Montano, you were wont be civil.The gravity and stillness of your youthThe world hath noted, and your name is greatIn mouths of wisest censure: what’s the matter,That you unlace your reputation thus,And spend your rich opinion for the nameOf a night-brawler? Give me answer to it.
MONTANO.Worthy Othello, I am hurt to danger.Your officer, Iago, can inform you,While I spare speech, which something now offends me,Of all that I do know; nor know I aughtBy me that’s said or done amiss this night,Unless self-charity be sometimes a vice,And to defend ourselves it be a sinWhen violence assails us.
OTHELLO.Now, by heaven,My blood begins my safer guides to rule,And passion, having my best judgement collied,Assays to lead the way. Zounds, if I stir,Or do but lift this arm, the best of youShall sink in my rebuke. Give me to knowHow this foul rout began, who set it on,And he that is approv’d in this offence,Though he had twinn’d with me, both at a birth,Shall lose me. What! in a town of war,Yet wild, the people’s hearts brimful of fear,To manage private and domestic quarrel,In night, and on the court and guard of safety?’Tis monstrous. Iago, who began’t?
MONTANO.If partially affin’d, or leagu’d in office,Thou dost deliver more or less than truth,Thou art no soldier.
IAGO.Touch me not so near.I had rather have this tongue cut from my mouthThan it should do offence to Michael Cassio.Yet I persuade myself, to speak the truthShall 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 determin’d sword,To execute upon him. Sir, this gentlemanSteps in to Cassio and entreats his pause.Myself the crying fellow did pursue,Lest by his clamour (as it so fell out)The town might fall in fright: he, swift of foot,Outran my purpose: and I return’d the ratherFor that I heard the clink and fall of swords,And Cassio high in oath, which till tonightI 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 wereWhen you yourself did part them.More of this matter cannot I report.But men are men; the best sometimes forget;Though Cassio did some little wrong to him,As men in rage strike those that wish them best,Yet surely Cassio, I believe, receiv’dFrom him that fled some strange indignity,Which patience could not pass.
OTHELLO.I know, Iago,Thy honesty and love doth mince this matter,Making it light to Cassio. Cassio, I love thee,But never more be officer of mine.
Enter Desdemona, attended.
Look, if my gentle love be not rais’d up!I’ll make thee an example.
DESDEMONA.What’s the matter?
OTHELLO.All’s well now, sweeting; come away to bed.Sir, for your hurts, myself will be your surgeon.Lead him off.
[_Montano is led off._]
Iago, look with care about the town,And silence those whom this vile brawl distracted.Come, Desdemona: ’tis the soldiers’ lifeTo have their balmy slumbers wak’d with strife.
[_Exeunt all but Iago and Cassio._]
IAGO.What, are you hurt, lieutenant?
CASSIO.Ay, past all surgery.
IAGO.Marry, Heaven forbid!
CASSIO.Reputation, reputation, reputation! O, I have lost my reputation! Ihave lost the immortal part of myself, and what remains is bestial. Myreputation, Iago, my reputation!
IAGO.As I am an honest man, I thought you had received some bodily wound;there is more sense in that than in reputation. Reputation is an idleand most false imposition, oft got without merit and lost withoutdeserving. You have lost no reputation at all, unless you reputeyourself such a loser. What, man, there are ways to recover the generalagain: you are but now cast in his mood, a punishment more in policythan in malice, even so as one would beat his offenceless dog toaffright an imperious lion: sue to him again, and he’s yours.
CASSIO.I will rather sue to be despised than to deceive so good a commanderwith so slight, so drunken, and so indiscreet an officer. Drunk? andspeak parrot? and squabble? swagger? swear? and discourse fustian withone’s own shadow? O thou invisible spirit of wine, if thou hast no nameto be known by, let us call thee devil!
IAGO.What was he that you followed with your sword? What had he done to you?
CASSIO.I know not.
IAGO.Is’t possible?
CASSIO.I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly; a quarrel, butnothing wherefore. O God, that men should put an enemy in their mouthsto steal away their brains! That we should with joy, pleasance, revel,and applause, transform ourselves into beasts!
IAGO.Why, but you are now well enough: how came you thus recovered?
CASSIO.It hath pleased the devil drunkenness to give place to the devil wrath.One unperfectness shows me another, to make me frankly despise myself.
IAGO.Come, you are too severe a moraler. As the time, the place, and thecondition of this country stands, I could heartily wish this had notbefallen; but since it is as it is, mend it for your own good.
CASSIO.I will ask him for my place again; he shall tell me I am a drunkard!Had I as many mouths as Hydra, such an answer would stop them all. Tobe now a sensible man, by and by a fool, and presently a beast! Ostrange! Every inordinate cup is unbless’d, and the ingredient is adevil.
IAGO.Come, come, good wine is a good familiar creature, if it be well used.Exclaim no more against it. And, good lieutenant, I think you think Ilove you.
CASSIO.I have well approved it, sir.—I drunk!
IAGO.You, or any man living, may be drunk at a time, man. I’ll tell you whatyou shall do. Our general’s wife is now the general; I may say so inthis respect, for that he hath devoted and given up himself to thecontemplation, mark, and denotement of her parts and graces. Confessyourself freely to her. Importune her help to put you in your placeagain. She is of so free, so kind, so apt, so blessed a disposition,she holds it a vice in her goodness not to do more than she isrequested. This broken joint between you and her husband entreat her tosplinter, and, my fortunes against any lay worth naming, this crack ofyour love shall grow stronger than it was before.
CASSIO.You advise me well.
IAGO.I protest, in the sincerity of love and honest kindness.
CASSIO.I think it freely; and betimes in the morning I will beseech thevirtuous Desdemona to undertake for me; I am desperate of my fortunesif they check me here.
IAGO.You are in the right. Good night, lieutenant, I must to the watch.
CASSIO.Good night, honest Iago.
[_Exit._]
IAGO.And what’s he then, that says I play the villain?When this advice is free I give and honest,Probal to thinking, and indeed the courseTo win the Moor again? For ’tis most easyThe inclining Desdemona to subdueIn any honest suit. She’s fram’d as fruitfulAs the free elements. And then for herTo win the Moor, were’t to renounce his baptism,All seals and symbols of redeemed sin,His soul is so enfetter’d to her loveThat she may make, unmake, do what she list,Even as her appetite shall play the godWith his weak function. How am I then, a villainTo counsel Cassio to this parallel course,Directly to his good? Divinity of hell!When devils will the blackest sins put on,They do suggest at first with heavenly shows,As I do now: for whiles this honest foolPlies Desdemona to repair his fortune,And she for him pleads strongly to the Moor,I’ll pour this pestilence into his ear,That she repeals him for her body’s lust;And by how much she strives to do him good,She shall undo her credit with the Moor.So will I turn her virtue into pitch,And out of her own goodness make the netThat shall enmesh them all.
Enter Roderigo.
How now, Roderigo?
RODERIGO.I do follow here in the chase, not like a hound that hunts, but onethat fills up the cry. My money is almost spent, I have been tonightexceedingly well cudgelled; and I think the issue will be, I shall haveso much experience for my pains, and so, with no money at all and alittle more wit, return again to Venice.
IAGO.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’t not go well? Cassio hath beaten thee,And thou, by that small hurt, hast cashier’d Cassio;Though other things grow fair against the sun,Yet fruits that blossom first will first be ripe.Content thyself awhile. By the mass, ’tis morning;Pleasure and action make the hours seem short.Retire thee; go where thou art billeted.Away, I say, thou shalt know more hereafter.Nay, get thee gone.
[_Exit Roderigo._]
Two things are to be done,My wife must move for Cassio to her mistress.I’ll set her on;Myself the while to draw the Moor apart,And bring him jump when he may Cassio findSoliciting his wife. Ay, that’s the way.Dull not device by coldness and delay.
[_Exit._]
ACT III
SCENE I. Cyprus. Before the Castle.
Enter Cassio and some Musicians.
CASSIO.Masters, play here, I will content your pains,Something that’s brief; and bid “Good morrow, general.”
[_Music._]
Enter Clown.
CLOWN.Why, masters, have your instruments been in Naples, that they speak i’the nose thus?
FIRST MUSICIAN.How, sir, how?
CLOWN.Are these, I pray you, wind instruments?
FIRST MUSICIAN.Ay, marry, are they, sir.
CLOWN.O, thereby hangs a tail.
FIRST MUSICIAN.Whereby hangs a tale, sir?
CLOWN.Marry, sir, by many a wind instrument that I know. But, masters, here’smoney for you: and the general so likes your music, that he desiresyou, for love’s sake, to make no more noise with it.
FIRST MUSICIAN.Well, sir, we will not.
CLOWN.If you have any music that may not be heard, to’t again. But, as theysay, to hear music the general does not greatly care.
FIRST MUSICIAN.We have none such, sir.
CLOWN.Then put up your pipes in your bag, for I’ll away. Go, vanish into air,away!
[_Exeunt Musicians._]
CASSIO.Dost thou hear, mine honest friend?
CLOWN.No, I hear not your honest friend. I hear you.
CASSIO.Prithee, keep up thy quillets. There’s a poor piece of gold for thee:if the gentlewoman that attends the general’s wife be stirring, tellher there’s one Cassio entreats her a little favour of speech. Wiltthou do this?
CLOWN.She is stirring, sir; if she will stir hither, I shall seem to notifyunto her.
CASSIO.Do, good my friend.
[_Exit Clown._]
Enter Iago.
In happy time, Iago.
IAGO.You have not been a-bed, then?
CASSIO.Why, no. The day had brokeBefore we parted. I have made bold, Iago,To send in to your wife. My suit to herIs, that she will to virtuous DesdemonaProcure me some access.
IAGO.I’ll send her to you presently,And I’ll devise a mean to draw the MoorOut of the way, that your converse and businessMay be more free.
CASSIO.I humbly thank you for’t.
[_Exit Iago._]
I never knewA Florentine more kind and honest.
Enter Emilia.
EMILIA.Good morrow, good lieutenant; I am sorryFor 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 repliesThat he you hurt is of great fame in CyprusAnd great affinity, and that in wholesome wisdomHe might not but refuse you; but he protests he loves youAnd needs no other suitor but his likingsTo take the safest occasion by the frontTo bring you in again.
CASSIO.Yet, I beseech you,If you think fit, or that it may be done,Give me advantage of some brief discourseWith Desdemona alone.
EMILIA.Pray you, come in.I will bestow you where you shall have timeTo speak your bosom freely.
CASSIO.I am much bound to you.
[_Exeunt._]
SCENE II. Cyprus. A Room in the Castle.
Enter Othello, Iago and Gentlemen.
OTHELLO.These letters give, Iago, 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.
IAGO.Well, my good lord, I’ll do’t.
OTHELLO.This fortification, gentlemen, shall we see’t?
GENTLEMEN.We’ll wait upon your lordship.
[_Exeunt._]
SCENE III. Cyprus. The Garden of the Castle.
Enter Desdemona, Cassio and Emilia.
DESDEMONA.Be thou assured, good Cassio, I will doAll my abilities in thy behalf.
EMILIA.Good madam, do. I warrant it grieves my husbandAs if the cause were his.
DESDEMONA.O, that’s an honest fellow. Do not doubt, Cassio,But I will have my lord and you againAs friendly as you were.
CASSIO.Bounteous madam,Whatever shall become of Michael Cassio,He’s never anything but your true servant.
DESDEMONA.I know’t. I thank you. You do love my lord.You have known him long; and be you well assur’dHe shall in strangeness stand no farther offThan in a politic distance.
CASSIO.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.
DESDEMONA.Do not doubt that. Before Emilia hereI give thee warrant of thy place. Assure thee,If I do vow a friendship, I’ll perform itTo 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 doesWith Cassio’s suit. Therefore be merry, Cassio,For thy solicitor shall rather dieThan give thy cause away.
Enter Othello and Iago.
EMILIA.Madam, here comes my lord.
CASSIO.Madam, I’ll take my leave.
DESDEMONA.Why, stay, and hear me speak.
CASSIO.Madam, not now. I am very ill at ease,Unfit for mine own purposes.
DESDEMONA.Well, do your discretion.
[_Exit Cassio._]
IAGO.Ha, I like not that.
OTHELLO.What dost thou say?
IAGO.Nothing, my lord; or if—I know not what.
OTHELLO.Was not that Cassio parted from my wife?
IAGO.Cassio, my lord? No, sure, I cannot think it,That he would steal away so guilty-like,Seeing you coming.
OTHELLO.I do believe ’twas he.
DESDEMONA.How now, my lord?I have been talking with a suitor here,A man that languishes in your displeasure.
OTHELLO.Who is’t you mean?
DESDEMONA.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 judgement in an honest face.I prithee call him back.
OTHELLO.Went he hence now?
DESDEMONA.Ay, sooth; so humbledThat he hath left part of his grief with meTo suffer with him. Good love, call him back.
OTHELLO.Not now, sweet Desdemon, some other time.
DESDEMONA.But shall’t be shortly?
OTHELLO.The sooner, sweet, for you.
DESDEMONA.Shall’t be tonight at supper?
OTHELLO.No, not tonight.
DESDEMONA.Tomorrow dinner then?
OTHELLO.I shall not dine at home;I meet the captains at the citadel.
DESDEMONA.Why then tomorrow night, or Tuesday morn,On Tuesday noon, or night; on Wednesday morn.I prithee name the time, but let it notExceed three days. In faith, he’s penitent;And yet his trespass, in our common reason,(Save that, they say, the wars must make examplesOut of their best) is not almost a faultTo incur a private check. When shall he come?Tell me, Othello: I wonder in my soul,What you would ask me, that I should deny,Or stand so mammering on. What? Michael Cassio,That came a-wooing with you, and so many a time,When I have spoke of you dispraisingly,Hath ta’en your part, to have so much to doTo bring him in! Trust me, I could do much.
OTHELLO.Prithee no more. Let him come when he will;I will deny thee nothing.
DESDEMONA.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 profitTo your own person: nay, when I have a suitWherein I mean to touch your love indeed,It shall be full of poise and difficult weight,And fearful to be granted.
OTHELLO.I will deny thee nothing.Whereon, I do beseech thee, grant me this,To leave me but a little to myself.
DESDEMONA.Shall I deny you? No, farewell, my lord.
OTHELLO.Farewell, my Desdemona. I’ll come to thee straight.
DESDEMONA.Emilia, come. Be as your fancies teach you.Whate’er you be, I am obedient.
[_Exit with Emilia._]
OTHELLO.Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul,But I do love thee! And when I love thee not,Chaos is come again.
IAGO.My noble lord,—
OTHELLO.What dost thou say, Iago?
IAGO.Did Michael Cassio, when you woo’d my lady,Know of your love?
OTHELLO.He did, from first to last. Why dost thou ask?
IAGO.But for a satisfaction of my thought.No further harm.
OTHELLO.Why of thy thought, Iago?
IAGO.I did not think he had been acquainted with her.
OTHELLO.O yes, and went between us very oft.
IAGO.Indeed?
OTHELLO.Indeed? Ay, indeed. Discern’st thou aught in that?Is he not honest?
IAGO.Honest, my lord?
OTHELLO.Honest? ay, honest.
IAGO.My lord, for aught I know.
OTHELLO.What dost thou think?
IAGO.Think, my lord?
OTHELLO.Think, my lord? By heaven, he echoes me,As if there were some monster in his thoughtToo 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 didst not like?And when I told thee he was of my counselIn my whole course of wooing, thou criedst, “Indeed?”And didst contract and purse thy brow together,As if thou then hadst shut up in thy brainSome horrible conceit: if thou dost love me,Show me thy thought.
IAGO.My lord, you know I love you.
OTHELLO.I think thou dost;And for I know thou’rt full of love and honestyAnd 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 knaveAre tricks of custom; but in a man that’s just,They’re close dilations, working from the heart,That passion cannot rule.
IAGO.For Michael Cassio,I dare be sworn I think that he is honest.
OTHELLO.I think so too.
IAGO.Men should be what they seem;Or those that be not, would they might seem none!
OTHELLO.Certain, men should be what they seem.
IAGO.Why then, I think Cassio’s an honest man.
OTHELLO.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 thoughtsThe worst of words.
IAGO.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 whereinto foul thingsSometimes intrude not? Who has a breast so pureBut some uncleanly apprehensionsKeep leets and law-days, and in session sitWith meditations lawful?
OTHELLO.Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago,If thou but think’st him wrong’d and mak’st his earA stranger to thy thoughts.
IAGO.I do beseech you,Though I perchance am vicious in my guess,As, I confess, it is my nature’s plagueTo spy into abuses, and of my jealousyShapes faults that are not,—that your wisdomFrom one that so imperfectly conceits,Would take no notice; nor build yourself a troubleOut of his 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.
OTHELLO.What dost thou mean?
IAGO.Good name in man and woman, dear my lord,Is the immediate jewel of their 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 nameRobs me of that which not enriches himAnd makes me poor indeed.
OTHELLO.By heaven, I’ll know thy thoughts.
IAGO.You cannot, if my heart were in your hand,Nor shall not, whilst ’tis in my custody.
OTHELLO.Ha?
IAGO.O, beware, my lord, of jealousy;It is the green-ey’d monster which doth mockThe meat it feeds on. That cuckold lives in blissWho, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger;But O, what damned minutes tells he o’erWho dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves!
OTHELLO.O misery!
IAGO.Poor and content is rich, and rich enough;But riches fineless is as poor as winterTo him that ever fears he shall be poor.Good heaven, the souls of all my tribe defendFrom jealousy!