Othello Page #20

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RODERIGO:

O, help me here!

CASSIO:

That's one of them.

IAGO:

O murderous slave! O villain!

Stabs RODERIGO

RODERIGO:

O damn'd Iago! O inhuman dog!

IAGO:

Kill men i' the dark!--Where be these bloody thieves?--

How silent is this town!--Ho! murder! murder!--

What may you be? are you of good or evil?

LODOVICO:

As you shall prove us, praise us.

IAGO:

Signior Lodovico?

LODOVICO:

He, sir.

IAGO:

I cry you mercy. Here's Cassio hurt by villains.

GRATIANO:

Cassio!

IAGO:

How is't, brother!

CASSIO:

My leg is cut in two.

IAGO:

Marry, heaven forbid!

Light, gentlemen; I'll bind it with my shirt.

Enter BIANCA

BIANCA:

What is the matter, ho? who is't that cried?

IAGO:

Who is't that cried!

BIANCA:

O my dear Cassio! my sweet Cassio! O Cassio,

Cassio, Cassio!

IAGO:

O notable strumpet! Cassio, may you suspect

Who they should be that have thus many led you?

CASSIO:

No.

GRATIANO:

I am to find you thus: I have been to seek you.

IAGO:

Lend me a garter. So. O, for a chair,

To bear him easily hence!

BIANCA:

Alas, he faints! O Cassio, Cassio, Cassio!

IAGO:

Gentlemen all, I do suspect this trash

To be a party in this injury.

Patience awhile, good Cassio. Come, come;

Lend me a light. Know we this face or no?

Alas my friend and my dear countryman

Roderigo! no:
--yes, sure: O heaven! Roderigo.

GRATIANO:

What, of Venice?

IAGO:

Even he, sir; did you know him?

GRATIANO:

Know him! ay.

IAGO:

Signior Gratiano? I cry you gentle pardon;

These bloody accidents must excuse my manners,

That so neglected you.

GRATIANO:

I am glad to see you.

IAGO:

How do you, Cassio? O, a chair, a chair!

GRATIANO:

Roderigo!

IAGO:

He, he 'tis he.

A chair brought in

O, that's well said; the chair!

GRATIANO:

Some good man bear him carefully from hence;

I'll fetch the general's surgeon.

To BIANCA

For you, mistress,

Save you your labour. He that lies slain

here, Cassio,

Was my dear friend: what malice was between you?

CASSIO:

None in the world; nor do I know the man.

IAGO:

[To BIANCA] What, look you pale? O, bear him out

o' the air.

CASSIO and RODERIGO are borne off

Stay you, good gentlemen. Look you pale, mistress?

Do you perceive the gastness of her eye?

Nay, if you stare, we shall hear more anon.

Behold her well; I pray you, look upon her:

Do you see, gentlemen? nay, guiltiness will speak,

Though tongues were out of use.

Enter EMILIA

EMILIA:

'Las, what's the matter? what's the matter, husband?

IAGO:

Cassio hath here been set on in the dark

By Roderigo and fellows that are scaped:

He's almost slain, and Roderigo dead.

EMILIA:

Alas, good gentleman! alas, good Cassio!

IAGO:

This is the fruit of whoring. Prithee, Emilia,

Go know of Cassio where he supp'd to-night.

To BIANCA

What, do you shake at that?

BIANCA:

He supp'd at my house; but I therefore shake not.

IAGO:

O, did he so? I charge you, go with me.

EMILIA:

Fie, fie upon thee, strumpet!

BIANCA:

I am no strumpet; but of life as honest

As you that thus abuse me.

EMILIA:

As I! foh! fie upon thee!

IAGO:

Kind gentlemen, let's go see poor Cassio dress'd.

Come, mistress, you must tell's another tale.

Emilia run you to the citadel,

And tell my lord and lady what hath happ'd.

Will you go on? I pray.

Aside

This is the night

That either makes me or fordoes me quite.

Exeunt

SCENE II. A bedchamber in the castle: DESDEMONA in bed asleep;

a light burning.

Enter OTHELLO

OTHELLO:

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 must needs wither: I'll smell it on the tree.

Kissing her

Ah 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.

DESDEMONA:

Who's there? Othello?

OTHELLO:

Ay. Desdemona.

DESDEMONA:

Will you come to bed, my lord?

OTHELLO:

Have you pray'd to-night, Desdemona?

DESDEMONA:

Ay, my lord.

OTHELLO:

If you bethink yourself of any crime

Unreconciled as yet to heaven and grace,

Solicit for it straight.

DESDEMONA:

Alas, my lord, what do you mean by that?

OTHELLO:

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.

DESDEMONA:

Talk you of killing?

OTHELLO:

Ay, I do.

DESDEMONA:

Then heaven

Have mercy on me!

OTHELLO:

Amen, with all my heart!

DESDEMONA:

If you say so, I hope you will not kill me.

OTHELLO:

Hum!

DESDEMONA:

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.

OTHELLO:

Think on thy sins.

DESDEMONA:

They are loves I bear to you.

OTHELLO:

Ay, and for that thou diest.

DESDEMONA:

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.

OTHELLO:

Peace, and be still!

DESDEMONA:

I will so. What's the matter?

OTHELLO:

That handkerchief which I so loved and gave thee

Thou gavest to Cassio.

DESDEMONA:

No, by my life and soul!

Send for the man, and ask him.

OTHELLO:

Sweet soul, take heed,

Take heed of perjury; thou art on thy deathbed.

DESDEMONA:

Ay, but not yet to die.

OTHELLO:

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.

DESDEMONA:

Then Lord have mercy on me!

OTHELLO:

I say, amen.

DESDEMONA:

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.

OTHELLO:

By heaven, I saw my handkerchief in's hand.

O perjured woman! thou dost stone my heart,

And makest me call what I intend to do

A murder, which I thought a sacrifice:

I saw the handkerchief.

DESDEMONA:

He found it then;

I never gave it him: send for him hither;

Let him confess a truth.

OTHELLO:

He hath confess'd.

DESDEMONA:

What, my lord?

OTHELLO:

That he hath used thee.

DESDEMONA:

How? unlawfully?

OTHELLO:

Ay.

DESDEMONA:

He will not say so.

OTHELLO:

No, his mouth is stopp'd;

Honest Iago hath ta'en order for't.

DESDEMONA:

O! my fear interprets: what, is he dead?

OTHELLO:

Had all his hairs been lives, my great revenge

Had stomach for them all.

DESDEMONA:

Alas! he is betray'd and I undone.

OTHELLO:

Out, strumpet! weep'st thou for him to my face?

DESDEMONA:

O, banish me, my lord, but kill me not!

OTHELLO:

Down, strumpet!

DESDEMONA:

Kill me to-morrow: let me live to-night!

OTHELLO:

Nay, if you strive--

DESDEMONA:

But half an hour!

OTHELLO:

Being done, there is no pause.

DESDEMONA:

But while I say one prayer!

OTHELLO:

It is too late.

He stifles her

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