A Bedchamber in the Castle. DESDEMONA in bed asleep. A light burning. |
|
Enter OTHELLO. |
Oth. It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul; |
Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars! |
It is the cause. Yet I'll not shed her blood, |
Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow, |
And smooth as monumental alabaster. |
Yet she must die, else she'll betray more men. |
Put out the light, and then put out the light: |
If I quench thee, thou flaming minister, |
I can again thy former light restore, |
Should I repent me; but once put out thy light, |
Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature, |
I know not where is that Promethean heat |
That can thy light relume. When I have pluck'd the rose, |
I cannot give it vital growth again, |
It needs must wither: I'll smell it on the tree. [Kisses her. |
O balmy breath, that dost almost persuade |
Justice to break her sword! One more, one more. |
Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee, |
And love thee after. One more, and this the last: |
So sweet was ne'er so fatal. I must weep, |
But they are cruel tears; this sorrow's heavenly, |
It strikes where it doth love. She wakes. |
Des. Who's there? Othello? |
Oth. Ay, Desdemona. |
Des. Will you come to bed, my lord? |
Oth. Have you pray'd to-night, Desdemona? |
Des. Ay, my lord. |
Oth. If you bethink yourself of any crime |
Unreconcil'd as yet to heaven and grace, |
Solicit for it straight. |
Des. Alas! my lord, what may you mean by that? |
Oth. Well, do it, and be brief; I will walk by: |
I would not kill thy unprepared spirit; |
No; heaven forfend! I would not kill thy soul. |
Des. Talk you of killing? |
Oth. Ay, I do. |
Des. Then heaven |
Have mercy on me! |
Oth. Amen! with all my heart. |
Des. If you say so, I hope you will not kill me. |
Oth. Hum! |
Des. And yet I fear you; for you are 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. |
Oth. Think on thy sins. |
Des. They are loves I bear to you. |
Oth. Ay, and for that thou diest. |
Des. 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. |
Oth. Peace, and be still! |
Des. I will so. What's the matter? |
Oth. That handkerchief which I so lov'd and gave thee |
Thou gav'st to Cassio. |
Des. No, by my life and soul! |
Send for the man and ask him. |
Oth. Sweet soul, take heed, |
Take heed of perjury; thou'rt on thy death-bed. |
Des. Ay, but not yet to die. |
Oth. Yes, presently; |
Therefore confess thee freely of thy sin; |
For to deny each article with oath |
Cannot remove nor choke the strong conception |
That I do groan withal. Thou art to die. |
Des. Then Lord have mercy on me! |
Oth. I say, amen. |
Des. And have you mercy too! I never did |
Offend you in my life; never lov'd Cassio |
But with such general warranty of heaven |
As I might love; I never gave him token. |
Oth. By heaven, I saw my handkerchief in 's hand. |
O perjur'd woman! thou dost stone my heart, |
And mak'st me call what I intend to do |
A murder, which I thought a sacrifice: |
I saw the handkerchief. |
Des. He found it then; |
I never gave it him. Send for him hither; |
Let him confess a truth. |
Oth. He hath confess'd. |
Des. What, my lord? |
Oth. That he hath us'd thee. |
Des. How? unlawfully? |
Oth. Ay. |
Des. He will not say so. |
Oth. No; his mouth is stopp'd: |
Honest Iago hath ta'en order for 't. |
Des. O! my fear interprets. What! is he dead? |
Oth. Had all his hairs been lives, my great revenge |
Had stomach for them all. |
Des. Alas! he is betray'd and I undone. |
Oth. Out, strumpet! Weep'st thou for him to my face? |
Des. O! banish me, my lord, but kill me not! |
Oth. Down, strumpet! |
Des. Kill me to-morrow; let me live to-night! |
Oth. Nay, if you strive,— |
Des. But half an hour! |
Oth. Being done, there is no pause. |
Des. But while I say one prayer! |
Oth. It is too late. [He smothers her. |
Emil. [Within.] My lord, my lord! what, ho! my lord, my lord! |
Oth. What noise is this? Not dead? not yet quite dead? |
I that am cruel am yet merciful; |
I would not have thee linger in thy pain. |
So, so. |
Emil. [Within.] What, ho! my lord, my lord! |
Oth. Who's there? |
Emil. [Within.] O! good my lord, I would speak a word with you! |
Oth. Yes; 'tis Emilia: by and by. She's dead. |
'Tis like she comes to speak of Cassio's death; |
The noise was high. Ha! no more moving? |
Still as the grave. Shall she come in? Were 't good? |
I think she stirs again: no. What's best to do? |
If she come in she'll sure speak to my wife: |
My wife! my wife! what wife? I have no wife: |
O, insupportable! O heavy hour! |
Methinks it should be now a huge eclipse |
Of sun and moon, and that the affrighted globe |
Should yawn at alteration. |
Emil. [Within.] I do beseech you |
That I may speak with you, O! good my lord. |
Oth. I had forgot thee: O! come in, Emilia: |
Soft, by and by: let me the curtains draw. |
Where art thou? [Unlocks the door. |
|
Enter EMILIA. |
What's the matter with thee now? |
Emil. O! my good lord, yonder's foul murder done. |
Oth. What! now? |
Emil. But now, my lord. |
Oth. It is the very error of the moon; |
She comes more near the earth than she was wont, |
And makes men mad. |
Emil. Cassio, my lord, has kill'd a young Venetian |
Call'd Roderigo. |
Oth. Roderigo kill'd! |
And Cassio kill'd? |
Emil. No, Cassio is not kill'd. |
Oth. Not Cassio kill'd! then murder's out of tune, |
And sweet revenge grows harsh. |
Des. O! falsely, falsely murder'd. |
Emil. Alas! what cry is that? |
Oth. That! what? |
Emil. Out, and alas! that was my lady's voice: |
Help! Help, ho! help! O lady, speak again! |
Sweet Desdemona! O! sweet mistress, speak. |
Des. A guiltless death I die. |
Emil. O! who hath done this deed? |
Des. Nobody; I myself; farewell: |
Commend me to my kind lord. O! farewell! [Dies. |
Oth. Why, how should she be murder'd? |
Emil. Alas! who knows? |
Oth. You heard her say herself it was not I. |
Emil. She said so; I must needs report the truth. |
Oth. She's like a liar gone to burning hell; |
'Twas I that kill'd her. |
Emil. O! the more angel she, |
And you the blacker devil. |
Oth. She turn'd to folly, and she was a whore. |
Emil. Thou dost belie her, and thou art a devil. |
Oth. She was false as water. |
Emil. Thou art rash as fire to say |
That she was false: O! she was heavenly true. |
Oth. Cassio did tup her; ask thy husband else. |
O! I were damn'd beneath all depth in hell |
But that I did proceed upon just grounds |
To this extremity. Thy husband knew it all. |
Emil. My husband! |
Oth. Thy husband. |
Emil. That she was false to wedlock? |
Oth. Ay, with Cassio. Nay, had she been true, |
If heaven would make me such another world |
Of one entire and perfect chrysolite, |
I'd not have sold her for it. |
Emil. My husband! |
Oth. Ay, 'twas he that told me first: |
An honest man he is, and hates the slime |
That sticks on filthy deeds. |
Emil. My husband! |
Oth. What needs this iterance, woman? I say thy husband. |
Emil. O mistress! villany hath made mocks with love. |
My husband say that she was false! |
Oth. He, woman; |
I say, thy husband: dost understand the word? |
My friend, thy husband, honest, honest Iago. |
Emil. If he say so, may his pernicious soul |
Rot half a grain a day! he lies to the heart: |
She was too fond of her most filthy bargain. |
Oth. Ha! |
Emil. Do thy worst: |
This deed of thine is no more worthy heaven |
Than thou wast worthy her. |
Oth. Peace! you were best. |
Emil. Thou hast not half the power to do me harm |
As I have to be hurt. O gull! O dolt! |
As ignorant as dirt! thou hast done a deed,— |
I care not for thy sword; I'll make thee known, |
Though I lost twenty lives. Help! help, ho! help! |
The Moor has kill'd my mistress! Murder! murder! |
|
Enter MONTANO, GRATIANO, IAGO, and Others. |
Mon. What is the matter? How now, general! |
Emil. O! are you come, Iago? you have done well, |
That men must lay their murders on your neck. |
Gra. What is the matter? |
Emil. Disprove this villain if thou be'st a man: |
He says thou told'st him that his wife was false. |
I know thou didst not, thou'rt not such a villain. |
Speak, for my heart is full. |
Iago. I told him what I thought, and told no more |
Than what he found himself was apt and true. |
Emil. But did you ever tell him she was false? |
Iago. I did. |
Emil. You told a lie, an odious damned lie; |
Upon my soul, a lie, a wicked lie. |
She false with Cassio! Did you say with Cassio? |
Iago. With Cassio, mistress. Go to, charm your tongue. |
Emil. I will not charm my tongue; I am bound to speak. |
My mistress here lies murder'd in her bed. |
All. O heavens forfend! |
Emil. And your reports have set the murder on. |
Oth. Nay, stare not, masters; it is true, indeed. |
Gra. 'Tis a strange truth. |
Mon. O monstrous act! |
Emil. Villany! villany! villany! |
I think upon 't, I think, I smell 't; O villany! |
I thought so then; I'll kill myself for grief. |
O! villany, villany! |
Iago. What! are you mad? I charge you, get you home. |
Emil. Good gentlemen, let me have leave to speak: |
'Tis proper I obey him, but not now. |
Perchance, Iago, I will ne'er go home. |
Oth. O! O! O! [Falls on the bed. |
Emil. Nay, lay thee down and roar, |
For thou hast kill'd the sweetest innocent |
That e'er did lift up eye. |
Oth. O! she was foul. |
I scarce did know you, uncle. There lies your niece, |
Whose breath, indeed, these hands have newly stopp'd: |
I know this act shows terrible and grim. |
Gra. Poor Desdemona! I am glad thy father's dead. |
Thy match was mortal to him, and pure grief |
Shore his old thread in twain: did he live now, |
This sight would make him do a desperate turn, |
Yea, curse his better angel from his side, |
And fall to reprobation. |
Oth. 'Tis pitiful; but yet Iago knows |
That she with Cassio hath the act of shame |
A thousand times committed; Cassio confess'd it: |
And she did gratify his amorous works |
With that recognizance and pledge of love |
Which I first gave her. I saw it in his hand: |
It was a handkerchief, an antique token |
My father gave my mother. |
Emil. O heaven! O heavenly powers! |
Iago. Come, hold your peace. |
Emil. 'Twill out, 'twill out; I hold my peace, sir? no; |
No, I will speak as liberal as the north; |
Let heaven and men and devils, let them all, |
All, all, cry shame against me, yet I'll speak. |
Iago. Be wise, and get you home. |
Emil. I will not. [IAGO offers to stab EMILIA. |
Gra. Fie! |
Your sword upon a woman? |
Emil. O thou dull Moor! that handkerchief thou speak'st of |
I found by fortune and did give my husband; |
For often, with a solemn earnestness, |
More than, indeed, belong'd to such a trifle, |
He begg'd of me to steal it. |
Iago. Villanous whore! |
Emil. She give it Cassio! no, alas! I found it, |
And I did give 't my husband. |
Iago. Filth, thou liest! |
Emil. By heaven, I do not, I do not, gentlemen. |
O murderous coxcomb! what should such a fool |
Do with so good a wife? |
Oth. Are there no stones in heaven |
But what serve for the thunder? Precious villain! [He runs at IAGO. IAGO stabs EMILIA, and exit. |
Gra. The woman falls: sure, he has kill'd his wife. |
Emil. Ay, ay; O! lay me by my mistress' side. |
Gra. He's gone; but his wife's kill'd. |
Mon. 'Tis a notorious villain. Take you this weapon, |
Which I have here recover'd from the Moor. |
Come, guard the door without; let him not pass, |
But kill him rather. I'll after that same villain, |
For 'tis a damned slave. [Exeunt MONTANO and GRATIANO. |
Oth. I am not valiant neither, |
But every puny whipster gets my sword. |
But why should honour outlive honesty? |
Let it go all. |
Emil. What did thy song bode, lady? |
Hark, canst thou hear me? I will play the swan, |
And die in music:— |
Moor, she was chaste; she lov'd thee, cruel Moor; |
So come my soul to bliss as I speak true; |
So speaking as I think, I die, I die. [Dies. |
Oth. I have another weapon in this chamber; |
It is a sword of Spain, the ice brook's temper. |
O! here it is. Uncle, I must come forth. |
Gra. [Within.] If thou attempt it, it will cost thee dear: |
Thou hast no weapon, and perforce must suffer. |
Oth. Look in upon me then, and speak with me, |
Or, naked as I am, I will assault thee. |
|
Re-enter GRATIANO. |
Gra. What is the matter? |
Oth. Behold! I have a weapon; |
A better never did itself sustain |
Upon a soldier's thigh: I have seen the day, |
That with this little arm, and this good sword, |
I have made my way through more impediments |
Than twenty times your stop: but, O vain boast! |
Who can control his fate? 'tis not so now. |
Be not afraid, though you do see me weapon'd; |
Here is my journey's end, here is my butt, |
And very sea-mark of my utmost sail. |
Do you go back dismay'd? 'tis a lost fear; |
Man but a rush against Othello's breast, |
And he retires. Where should Othello go? |
Now how dost thou look now? O ill-starr'd wench! |
Pale as thy smock! when we shall meet at compt, |
This look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven, |
And fiends will snatch at it. Cold, cold, my girl! |
Even like thy chastity. |
O! cursed, cursed slave. Whip me, ye devils, |
From the possession of this heavenly sight! |
Blow me about in winds! roast me in sulphur! |
Wash me in steep-down gulfs of liquid fire! |
O Desdemona! Desdemona! dead! |
Oh! Oh! Oh! |
|
Enter LODOVICO, MONTANO, CASSIO carried in a chair, and Officers with IAGO, prisoner. |
Lod. Where is this rash and most unfortunate man? |
Oth. That's he that was Othello; here I am. |
Lod. Where is that viper? bring the villain forth. |
Oth. I look down towards his feet; but that's a fable. |
If that thou be'st a devil, I cannot kill thee. [Wounds IAGO. |
Lod. Wrench his sword from him. |
Iago. I bleed, sir; but not kill'd. |
Oth. I am not sorry neither; I'd have thee live; |
For, in my sense, 'tis happiness to die. |
Lod. O thou Othello! that wert once so good, |
Fall'n in the practice of a damned slave, |
What shall be said to thee? |
Oth. Why, any thing: |
An honourable murderer, if you will; |
For nought did I in hate, but all in honour. |
Lod. This wretch hath part confess'd his villany: |
Did you and he consent in Cassio's death? |
Oth. Ay. |
Cas. Dear general, I never gave you cause. |
Oth. I do believe it, and I ask your pardon. |
Will you, I pray, demand that demi-devil |
Why he hath thus ensnar'd my soul and body? |
Iago. Demand me nothing: what you know, you know: |
From this time forth I never will speak word. |
Lod. What! not to pray? |
Gra. Torments will ope your lips. |
Oth. Well, thou dost best. |
Lod. Sir, you shall understand what hath befall'n, |
Which, as I think, you know not. Here is a letter |
Found in the pocket of the slain Roderigo, |
And here another; the one of them imports |
The death of Cassio to be undertook |
By Roderigo. |
Oth. O villain! |
Cas. Most heathenish and most gross! |
Lod. Now here's another discontented paper, |
Found in his pocket too; and this, it seems, |
Roderigo meant to have sent this damned villain, |
But that, belike, Iago in the interim |
Came in and satisfied him. |
Oth. O the pernicious caitiff! |
How came you, Cassio, by that handkerchief |
That was my wife's? |
Cas. I found it in my chamber; |
And he himself confess'd but even now |
That there he dropp'd it for a special purpose |
Which wrought to his desire. |
Oth. O fool! fool! fool! |
Cas. There is besides in Roderigo's letter |
How he upbraids Iago that he made him |
Brave me upon the watch; whereon it came |
That I was cast: and even but now he spake, |
After long seeming dead, Iago hurt him, |
Iago set him on. |
Lod. You must forsake this room and go with us; |
Your power and your command is taken off, |
And Cassio rules in Cyprus. For this slave, |
If there be any cunning cruelty |
That can torment him much and hold him long, |
It shall be his. You shall close prisoner rest. |
Till that the nature of your fault be known |
To the Venetian state. Come, bring him away. |
Oth. Soft you; a word or two before you go. |
I have done the state some service, and they know 't; |
No more of that. I pray you, in your letters, |
When you shall these unlucky deeds relate, |
Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate, |
Nor set down aught in malice: then, must you speak |
Of one that lov'd not wisely but too well; |
Of one not easily jealous, but, being wrought, |
Perplex'd in the extreme; of one whose hand, |
Like the base Indian, threw a pearl away |
Richer than all his tribe; of one whose subdu'd eyes |
Albeit unused to the melting mood, |
Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees |
Their med'cinable gum. Set you down this; |
And say besides, that in Aleppo once, |
Where a malignant and a turban'd Turk |
Beat a Venetian and traduc'd the state, |
I took by the throat the circumcised dog, |
And smote him thus. [Stabs himself. |
Lod. O bloody period! |
Gra. All that's spoke is marr'd. |
Oth. I kiss'd thee ere I kill'd thee; no way but this, [Falling upon DESDEMONA. |
Killing myself to die upon a kiss. [Dies. |
Cas. This did I fear, but thought he had no weapon; |
For he was great of heart. |
Lod. [To IAGO.] O Spartan dog! |
More fell than anguish, hunger, or the sea. |
Look on the tragic loading of this bed; |
This is thy work; the object poisons sight; |
Let it be hid. Gratiano, keep the house, |
And seize upon the fortunes of the Moor, |
For they succeed on you. To you, lord governor, |
Remains the censure of this hellish villain, |
The time, the place, the torture; O! enforce it. |
Myself will straight aboard, and to the state |
This heavy act with heavy heart relate. [Exeunt. |
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