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woman your wife! She gave it him, and he hath given it his whore.

OTHELLO. I would have him nine years akilling. 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 tonight, 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, a 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.

OTHELLO. Excellent good. [A trumpet within.] What trumpet is that same?

IAGO. Something from Venice, sure. ‘Tis Lodovico Come from the Duke. And, see your wife is with him.

 

Enter Lodovico, Desdemona, and Attendants.

 

LODOVICO. God save the worthy general!

OTHELLO. With all my heart, sir.

LODOVICO. The Duke and Senators of Venice greet you.

Gives him a letter.

OTHELLO. I kiss the instrument of their pleasures.

Opens the letter, and reads.

DESDEMONA. And what’s the news, good cousin Lodovico?

IAGO. I am very glad to see you, signior; Welcome to Cyprus.

LODOVICO. I thank you. How does Lieutenant Cassio?

IAGO. Lives, sir.

DESDEMONA. Cousin, there’s fall’n between him and my lord An unkind breech; but you shall make all well.

OTHELLO. Are you sure of that?

DESDEMONA. My lord?

OTHELLO. [Reads.] “This fail you not to do, as you will-”

LODOVICO. He did not call; he’s busy in the paper.

Is there division ‘twixt my lord and Cassio?

DESDEMONA. A most unhappy one. I would do much To atone them, for the love I bear to Cassio.

OTHELLO. Fire and brimstone!

DESDEMONA. My lord?

OTHELLO. Are you wise?

DESDEMONA. What, is he angry?

LODOVICO. May be the letter moved him; For, as I think, they do command him home, Deputing Cassio in his government.

DESDEMONA. By my troth, I am glad on’t.

OTHELLO. Indeed!

DESDEMONA. My lord?

OTHELLO. I am glad to see you mad.

DESDEMONA. Why, sweet Othello?

OTHELLO. Devil! Strikes her.

DESDEMONA. I have not deserved this.

LODOVICO. My lord, this would not be believed in Venice, Though I should swear I saw’t. ‘Tis very much.

Make her amends; she weeps.

OTHELLO. O devil, devil!

If that the earth could teem with woman’s tears, Each drop she falls would prove a crocodile.

Out of my sight!

DESDEMONA. [Going.] I will not stay to offend you.

LODOVICO. Truly, an obedient lady.

I do beseech your lordship, call her back.

OTHELLO. Mistress!

DESDEMONA. My lord?

OTHELLO. What would you with her, sir?

LODOVICO. Who, I, my lord?

OTHELLO. Ay, you did wish that I would make her turn.

Sir, she can turn and turn, and yet go on, And turn again; and she can weep, sir, weep; And she’s obedient, as you say, obedient, Very obedient. Proceed you in your tears.

Concerning this, sir-O well-painted passion!-

I am commanded home. Get you away;

I’ll send for you anon. Sir, I obey the mandate, And will return to Venice. Hence, avaunt!

Exit Desdemona.

Cassio shall have my place. And, sir, tonight, I do entreat that we may sup together.

You are welcome, sir, to Cyprus. Goats and monkeys!

Exit.

LODOVICO. Is this the noble Moor whom our full Senate Call all in all sufficient? This the nature Whom passion could not shake? whose solid virtue The shot of accident nor dart of chance Could neither graze nor pierce?

IAGO. He is much changed.

LODOVICO. Are his wits safe? Is he not light of brain?

IAGO. He’s that he is. I may not breathe my censure What he might be: if what he might he is not, I would to heaven he were!

LODOVICO. What, strike his wife!

IAGO. Faith, that was not so well; yet would I knew That stroke would prove the worst!

LODOVICO. Is it his use?

Or did the letters work upon his blood, And new create this fault?

IAGO. Alas, alas!

It is not honesty in me to speak

What I have seen and known. You shall observe him, And his own courses will denote him so That I may save my speech. Do but go after, And mark how he continues.

LODOVICO. I am sorry that I am deceived in him. Exeunt.

 

SCENE II.

A room in the castle.

 

Enter Othello and Emilia.

 

OTHELLO. You have seen nothing, then?

EMILIA. Nor ever heard, nor ever did suspect.

OTHELLO. Yes, you have seen Cassio and she together.

EMILIA. But then I saw no harm, and then I heard Each syllable that breath made up between them.

OTHELLO. What, did they never whisper?

EMILIA. Never, my lord.

OTHELLO. Nor send you out o’ the way?

EMILIA. Never.

OTHELLO. To fetch her fan, her gloves, her mask, nor nothing?

EMILIA. Never, my lord.

OTHELLO. That’s strange.

EMILIA. I durst, my lord, to wager she is honest, Lay down my soul at stake. If you think other, Remove your thought; it doth abuse your bosom.

If any wretch have put this in your head, Let heaven requite it with the serpent’s curse!

For if she be not honest, chaste, and true, There’s no man happy; the purest of their wives Is foul as slander.

OTHELLO. Bid her come hither; go. Exit Emilia.

She says enough; yet she’s a simple bawd That cannot say as much. This is a subtle whore, A closet lock and key of villainous secrets.

And yet she’ll kneel and pray; I have seen her do’t.

 

Enter Desdemona with Emilia.

 

DESDEMONA. My lord, what is your will?

OTHELLO. Pray, chuck, come hither.

DESDEMONA. What is your pleasure?

OTHELLO. Let me see your eyes; Look in my face.

DESDEMONA. What horrible fancy’s this?

OTHELLO. [To Emilia.] Some of your function, mistress, 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-damn’d; Swear thou art honest.

DESDEMONA. Heaven doth truly know it.

OTHELLO. Heaven truly knows that thou art false as hell.

DESDEMONA. To whom, my lord? with whom? how am I false?

OTHELLO. O Desdemona! 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, Why, I have lost him too.

OTHELLO. Had it pleased heaven To try me with affliction, had they rain’d All kinds of sores and shames on my bare head, Steep’d 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 A fixed figure for the time of scorn

To point his slow unmoving finger at!

Yet could I bear that too, well, very well; But there, where I have garner’d 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-lipp’d cherubin, Ay, there, 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 hush’d within the hollow mine of earth, And will not hear it. What committed?

Impudent strumpet!

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. [Raises his voice.] You, mistress, That have the office opposite to Saint Peter, And keep the gate of hell!

 

Re-enter Emilia.

 

You, you, ay, you!

We have done our course; 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 have none. Do not talk to me, Emilia; I cannot weep, nor answer 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?

 

Re-enter Emilia with Iago.

 

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 have chid me so, for in good faith, I am a child to chiding.

IAGO. What’s the matter, lady?

EMILIA. Alas, Iago, my lord hath so bewhored her, Thrown such despite and heavy terms upon her, As true hearts cannot bear.

DESDEMONA. Am I that name, Iago?

IAGO. What name, fair lady?

DESDEMONA. Such as she says my lord did say I was.

EMILIA. He call’d 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.

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