ACT 1
Scene 3
...her witness it.
Enter Desdemona, Iago, Attendants.
...you owe obedience?
My noble father,
I do perceive here a divided duty.
To you I am bound for life and education.
My life and education both do learn me
How to respect you. You are the lord of duty.
I am hitherto your daughter. But here’s my husband.
And so much duty as my mother showed
To you, preferring you before her father,
So much I challenge that I may profess
Due to the Moor my lord.
...so. Nor I.
Nor would I there reside
To put my father in impatient thoughts
By being in his eye. Most gracious duke,
To my unfolding lend your prosperous ear
And let me find a charter in your voice
T’ assist my simpleness.
...would you, Desdemona?
That I love the Moor to live with him
My downright violence and storm of fortunes
May trumpet to the world. My heart’s subdued
Even to the very quality of my lord.
I saw Othello’s visage in his mind,
And to his honors and his valiant parts
Did I my soul and fortunes consecrate.
So that, dear lords, if I be left behind,
A moth of peace, and he go to the war,
The rites for why I love him are bereft me
And I a heavy interim shall support
By his dear absence. Let me go with him.
...obey the time.
Othello and Desdemona exit.
ACT 2
Scene 1
...all Cyprus comfort!
Enter Desdemona, Iago, Roderigo, and Emilia.
...thee round.He rises.
I thank you, valiant Cassio.
What tidings can you tell of my lord?
...be shortly here.
O, but I fear—How lost you company?
...would have enough.
Alas, she has no speech!
...in your beds.
Oh, fie upon thee, slanderer.
...let me not.
What wouldst write of me if thou shouldst praise me?
...if not critical.
Come on, assay.—There’s one gone to the harbor?
... Ay, madam.
aside
I am not merry, but I do beguile
The thing I am by seeming otherwise.—
Come, how wouldst thou praise me?
...other useth it.
Well praised! How if she be black and witty?
...her blackness hit.
Worse and worse.
...to an heir.
These are old fond paradoxes to make
fools laugh i’ th’ alehouse. What miserable praise
hast thou for her that’s foul and foolish?
...wise ones do.
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?
...such wight were—
To do what?
...chronicle small beer.
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 counselor?
...in the scholar.
Cassio takes Desdemona’s hand.
...’Tis truly so.
Let’s meet him and receive him.
...my fair warrior!
My dear Othello!
...in unknown fate.
The heavens forbid
But that our loves and comforts should increase
Even as our days do grow!
...much of joy.
They kiss.
...met at Cyprus.
All but Iago and Roderigo exit.
Scene 3
...noble general, Othello!
Enter Othello, Desdemona, Cassio, and Attendants.
...and you.— Goodnight.
Othello and Desdemona exit, with Attendants.
...officer of mine.
Enter Desdemona attended.
...thee an example.
What is the matter, dear?
...waked with strife.
All but Iago and Cassio exit.
ACT 3
Scene 3
...upon your Lordship.
Enter Desdemona, Cassio, and Emilia.
Be thou assured, good Cassio, I will do
All my abilities in thy behalf.
...cause were his.
O, that’s an honest fellow! Do not doubt, Cassio,
But I will have my lord and you again
As friendly as you were.
...your true servant.
I know ’t. I thank you. You do love my lord;
You have known him long; and be you well assured
He shall in strangeness stand no farther off
Than in a politic distance.
...love and service.
Do not doubt that. Before Emilia here,
I give thee warrant of thy place. Assure thee,
If I do vow a friendship, I’ll perform it
To 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 does
With Cassio’s suit. Therefore be merry, Cassio,
For thy solicitor shall rather die
Than give thy cause away.
...take my leave.
Why, stay, and hear me speak.
...mine own purposes.
Well, do your discretion.
...believe ’twas he.
How now, my lord?
I have been talking with a suitor here,
A man that languishes in your displeasure.
...’t you mean?
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 judgment in an honest face.
I prithee call him back.
...he hence now?
Yes, faith, so humbled
That he hath left part of his grief with me
To suffer with him. Good love, call him back.
...Some other time.
But shall ’t be shortly?
...sweet, for you.
Shall ’t be tonight at supper?
...No, not tonight.
Tomorrow dinner, then?
...at the citadel.
Why then tomorrow night, or Tuesday morn,
On Tuesday noon or night; on Wednesday morn.
I prithee name the time, but let it not
Exceed three days. In faith, he’s penitent;
And yet his trespass, in our common reason—
Save that, they say, the wars must make example
Out of her best—is not almost a fault
T’ 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 mamm’ring 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 do
To bring him in! By ’r Lady, I could do much—
...deny thee nothing.
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 profit
To your own person. Nay, when I have a suit
Wherein I mean to touch your love indeed,
It shall be full of poise and difficult weight,
And fearful to be granted.
...little to myself.
Shall I deny you? No. Farewell, my lord.
...to thee straight.
Emilia, come.—Be as your fancies teach you.
Whate’er you be, I am obedient.
Desdemona and Emilia exit.
...where she comes.
Enter Desdemona and Emilia.
...not believe ’t.
How now, my dear Othello?
Your dinner, and the generous islanders
By you invited, do attend your presence.
...am to blame.
Why do you speak so faintly? Are you not well?
...my forehead, here.
Faith, that’s with watching. ’Twill away again.
Let me but bind it hard; within this hour
It will be well.
...Let it alone.
The handkerchief falls, unnoticed.
...in with you.
I am very sorry that you are not well.
Othello and Desdemona exit.
Scene 4
...your own forever.
Enter Desdemona, Emilia, and Clown.
Do you know, sirrah, where Lieutenant
Cassio lies?
...he lies anywhere.
Why, man?
...lies, ’tis stabbing.
Go to! Where lodges he?
...where I lie.
Can anything be made of this?
...mine own throat.
Can you inquire him out, and be edified
by report?
...by them answer.
Seek him, bid him come hither. Tell him I
have moved my lord on his behalf and hope all will
be well.
...the doing it.
Where should I lose that handkerchief, Emilia?
...know not, madam.
Believe me, I had rather have lost my purse
Full of crusadoes. And but my noble Moor
Is true of mind and made of no such baseness
As jealous creatures are, it were enough
To put him to ill thinking.
...he not jealous?
Who, he? I think the sun where he was born
Drew all such humors from him.
... Enter Othello.
I will not leave him now till Cassio
Be called to him.—How is ’t with you, my lord?
...do you, Desdemona?
Well, my good lord.
...me your hand.
He takes her hand.
...moist, my lady.
It yet has felt no age nor known no sorrow.
...A frank one.
You may indeed say so,
For ’twas that hand that gave away my heart.
...hands, not hearts.
I cannot speak of this. Come now, your promise.
...What promise, chuck?
I have sent to bid Cassio come speak with you.
...me thy handkerchief.
Here, my lord.
...I gave you.
I have it not about me.
... Not?
No, faith, my lord.
...else could match.
Is ’t possible?
...of maidens’ hearts.
I’ faith, is ’t true?
...to ’t well.
Then would to God that I had never seen ’t!
... Ha? Wherefore?
Why do you speak so startingly and rash?
...o’ th’ way?
Heaven bless us!
... Say you?
It is not lost, but what an if it were?
... How?
I say it is not lost.
...me see ’t!
Why, so I can. But I will not now.
This is a trick to put me from my suit.
Pray you, let Cassio be received again.
...mind misgives.
Come, come.
You’ll never meet a more sufficient man.
... The handkerchief!
I pray, talk me of Cassio.
... The handkerchief!
A man that all his time
Hath founded his good fortunes on your love;
Shared dangers with you—
... The handkerchief!
I’ faith, you are to blame.
...this man jealous?
I ne’er saw this before.
Sure, there’s some wonder in this handkerchief!
I am most unhappy in the loss of it.
...and importune her.
How now, good Cassio, what’s the news with you?
...To fortune’s alms.
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 favor as in humor altered.
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.
...he be angry.
I prithee do so. Something, sure, of state,
Either from Venice, or some unhatched practice
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 endues
Our other healthful members even to a sense
Of pain. Nay, we must think men are not gods,
Nor of them look for such observancy
As fits 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 suborned the witness,
And he’s indicted falsely.
...toy concerning you.
Alas the day, I never gave him cause!
...born on itself.
Heaven keep that monster from Othello’s mind!
... Lady, amen.
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.
...thank your Ladyship.
Desdemona and Emilia exit.
ACT 4
Scene 1
...something from Venice.
Enter Lodovico, Desdemona, and Attendants.
...of their pleasures.
And what’s the news, good cousin Lodovico?
...Cassio? Lives, sir.
Cousin, there’s fall’n between him and my lord
An unkind breach, but you shall make all well.
...sure of that?
My lord?
...lord and Cassio?
A most unhappy one. I would do much
T’ atone them, for the love I bear to Cassio.
...Fire and brimstone!
My lord?
...Are you wise?
What, is he angry?
...in his government.
By my troth, I am glad on ’t.
... Indeed?
My lord?
...see you mad.
Why, sweet Othello!
OTHELLO, striking her
...Devil!
I have not deserved this.
...of my sight!
I will not stay to offend you. She begins to leave.
...her back. Mistress.
turning back
My lord?
...to Venice.—Hence, avaunt!
Desdemona exits.
Scene 2
...her do ’t.
Enter Desdemona and Emilia.
My lord, what is your will?
...chuck, come hither.
What is your pleasure?
...in my face.
What horrible fancy’s this?
...mystery! Nay, dispatch.
kneeling
Upon my knees, what doth your speech import?
I understand a fury in your words,
But not the words.
...What art thou?
Your wife, my lord, your true and loyal wife.
...thou art honest.
Heaven doth truly know it.
...false as hell.
standing
To whom, my lord? With whom? How am I false?
...away, away, away!
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.
...grim as hell.
I hope my noble lord esteems me honest.
...ne’er been born!
Alas, what ignorant sin have I committed?
...committed? Impudent strumpet!
By heaven, you do me wrong!
...you a strumpet?
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.
...not a whore?
No, as I shall be saved.
...Is ’t possible?
O, heaven forgive us!
...my good lady?
Faith, half asleep.
...with my lord?
With who?
...my lord, madam.
Who is thy lord?
...yours, sweet lady.
I have 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.
...a change indeed.
’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?
...’t with you?
I cannot tell. Those that do teach young babes
Do it with gentle means and easy tasks.
He might have chid me so, for, in good faith,
I am a child to chiding.
...hearts cannot bear.
Am I that name, Iago?
...fair lady?
Such as she said my lord did say I was.
...did he so?
I do not know. I am sure I am none such.
...one weep?
It is my wretched fortune.
...trick upon him?
Nay, heaven doth know.
...It is impossible.
If any such there be, heaven pardon him.
...fool. Go to!
Alas, 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! She stands.
Unkindness may do much,
And his unkindness may defeat my life,
But never taint my love. 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.
...chide with you.
If ’twere no other—
...shall be well.
Desdemona and Emilia exit.
Scene 3
...shall be satisfied.
Enter Othello, Lodovico, Desdemona, Emilia, and Attendants.
...thank your Ladyship.
Your Honor is most welcome.
...walk, sir?—O, Desdemona—
My lord?
...’t be done.
I will, my lord.
...than he did.
He says he will return incontinent,
And hath commanded me to go to bed,
And bade me to dismiss you.
... Dismiss me?
It was his bidding. Therefore, good Emilia,
Give me my nightly wearing, and adieu.
We must not now displease him.
...never seen him.
So would not I. My love doth so approve him
That even his stubbornness, his checks, his frowns—
Prithee, unpin me—have grace and favor in them.
...on the bed.
All’s one. Good faith, how foolish are our minds!
If I do die before thee, prithee, shroud me
In one of those same sheets.
...come, you talk!
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.
...fetch your nightgown?
No, unpin me here.
This Lodovico is a proper man.
...very handsome man.
He speaks well.
...his nether lip.
singing
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—
Lay by these.
Sing willow, 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?
...It’s the wind.
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;
Doth that bode weeping?
...here nor there.
I have heard it said so. O these men, these men!
Dost thou in conscience think—tell me, Emilia—
That there be women do abuse their husbands
In such gross kind?
...no question.
Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world?
...would not you?
No, by this heavenly light!
...i’ th’ dark.
Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world?
...a small vice.
In troth, I think thou wouldst not.
...purgatory for ’t.
Beshrew me if I would do such a wrong
for the whole world!
...make it right.
I do not think there is any such woman.
...instruct us so.
Good night, good night. God me such uses send,
Not to pick bad from bad, but by bad mend.
They exit.
ACT 5
Scene 2
...fordoes me quite.
Enter Othello with a light, and Desdemona in her bed.
...break her sword!
He kisses her.
...this the last.
He kisses her.
...love. She wakes.
Who’s there? Othello?
... Ay, Desdemona.
Will you come to bed, my lord?
...prayed tonight, Desdemon?
Ay, my lord.
...for it straight.
Alack, my lord,
What may you mean by that?
...kill thy soul.
Talk you of killing?
...Ay, I do.
Then heaven have mercy on me.
...all my heart.
If you say so, I hope you will not kill me.
... Humh.
And yet I fear you, for you’re fatal then
When your eyes roll so. Why I should fear I know not,
Since guiltiness I know not, but yet I feel I fear.
...on thy sins.
They are loves I bear to you.
...that thou diest.
That death’s unnatural that kills for loving.
Alas, why gnaw you so your nether lip?
Some bloody passion shakes your very frame.
These are portents, but yet I hope, I hope
They do not point on me.
...and be still.
I will so. What’s the matter?
...to Cassio.
No, by my life and soul! Send for the man
And ask him.
...on thy deathbed.
Ay, but not yet to die.
...art to die.
Then Lord have mercy on me!
...I say “Amen.”
And have you mercy, too. I never did
Offend you in my life, never loved Cassio
But with such general warranty of heaven
As I might love. I never gave him token.
...saw the handkerchief!
He found it, then.
I never gave it him. Send for him hither.
Let him confess a truth.
...He hath confessed.
What, my lord?
...hath used thee.
How? Unlawfully?
... Ay.
He will not say so.
...order for ’t.
O, my fear interprets. What, is he dead?
...for them all.
Alas, he is betrayed, and I undone.She weeps.
...to my face?
O banish me, my lord, but kill me not!
... Down, strumpet!
Kill me tomorrow, let me live tonight.
...if you strive—
But half an hour!
...is no pause.
But while I say one prayer!
...is too late.
He smothers her.
...revenge grows harsh.
O falsely, falsely murdered.
...sweet mistress, speak!
A guiltless death I die.
...done this deed?
Nobody. I myself. Farewell.
Commend me to my kind lord. O, farewell.
She dies.