Othello Page #16

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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.

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:

Save you, 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 breach: 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:

Trust me, I am glad on't.

OTHELLO:

Indeed!

DESDEMONA:

My lord?

OTHELLO:

I am glad to see you mad.

DESDEMONA:

Why, sweet Othello,--

OTHELLO:

[Striking her] Devil!

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:

I will not stay to offend you.

Going

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

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