Othello Page #11

---

The worms were hallowed

that did breed the silk.

And it was dyed in mummy...

...which the skillful

conserved of maidens' hearts.

Your face. Is't true?

Most veritable, therefore look to't well.

- Then would to God I had never seen it.

- Ha! Wherefore?

Why do you speak so startingly and rash?

Is't lost? Is't gone?

Speak, is't out o'th'way?

- Heaven bless us.

- Say you?

I say it is not lost.

But what and if it were?

- How?

- I say it is not lost.

Fetch't, let me see't.

Why, so I can, sir, but I will not now.

This is a trick to put me from my suit.

I pray you, let Cassio be received again.

Fetch me the handkerchief. My mind misgives.

- I pray, talk me of Cassio.

- The handkerchief!

- You'll never meet a more sufficient man.

- The handkerchief!

A man who all his time hath founded

his good fortunes on your love...

...shared dangers with you...

- Handkerchief!

- In sooth, you are to blame.

- Away!

Is not this man jealous?

DESDEMoNA:
I ne'er saw this before.

Sure, there's some wonder

in this handkerchief.

I am most unhappy at the loss of it.

There is no other way, 'tis she

must do't. Go and importune her.

How now, good Cassio?

What's the news with you?

Madam, my former suit.

I do beseech you that by your

virtuous means, I may again exist...

...and be a member of his love...

...whom I, with all the duty

of my heart, entirely honor.

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.

Is my lord angry?

He went hence but now, and

certainly in strange unquietness.

Can he be angry?

I have seen the cannon when it

hath blown his ranks into the air...

...and like the devil from his

very arm puffed his own brother.

And is he angry?

Something of moment,

then. I will go meet him.

- There's matter in't indeed if he

be angry. DESDEMoNA: 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

observances 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.

Pray heaven it be state

matters as you think...

...and no conception nor no

jealous toy concerning you.

Alas the day, I never gave him cause.

But jealous souls will not be answered so.

They are not ever jealous for the

cause, but jealous for they are jealous.

'Tis a monster begot upon

itself, born on itself.

Heaven keep that monster from othello's mind.

Milady, amen.

I will go seek him.

Cassio, walk here about.

If I do find him fit, I'll move your suit

and seek to effect it to it's uttermost.

CASSlo:
I humbly thank your ladyship.

- Emilia, come.

'Save you, friend Cassio.

What makes you from home?

How is it with you, my most fair Bianca?

I'faith, sweet love, I

was coming to your house.

And I was going to your lodging, Cassio.

What, keep a week away?

Seven days and nights?

- Eight score eight hours?

- Shh! Oh!

And lovers' absent hours more tedious

than the dial eight score times?

- O, weary reckoning.

- Pardon me, Bianca.

I have this while with

leaden thoughts been pressed.

But I shall in a more convenient

time strike off this score of absence.

Sweet Bianca, make me this work out.

Cassio, whence came this?

I know not, sweet. I found it in my chamber.

I like the work well. Ere it be demanded...

As like enough it will... I'd have it copied.

Take it, do't and leave me for this time.

I attend here.

Will you think so?

Think so, lago?

What, to kiss in private?

An unauthorized kiss.

Or to be naked with her friend in bed

an hour or more, not meaning any harm?

Naked in bed, lago, and not mean harm?

It is hypocrisy against the devil.

They that mean virtuously and yet do

so, the devil their virtue tempts...

...and they tempt heaven.

So they do nothing, 'tis a venial slip.

But if I give my wife a handkerchief...

What then?

Why, then, 'tis hers, my lord.

And, being hers, she may, I

think, bestow't on any man.

She is protectress of her

honor too. May she give that?

Her honor is an essence that's not seen.

They have it very oft that have it not.

- But for the handkerchief...

- oh!

By heaven, I would most

gladly have forgot it.

Thou said'st... o, it comes o'er my memory...

...as doth the raven o'er the

infected house, boding to all.

- He had my handkerchief.

Ay, what of that?

That's not so good now.

What if I had said I had

seen him do you wrong?

Or heard him say...

- Hath he said anything?

- He hath, my lord.

But be you well assured,

no more than he'll unswear.

- What hath he said?

- Faith, that he did...

I know not what he did.

What?

What?

Lie...

- With her?

- With her...

...on her...

...what you will.

Lie with her?

Lie on her?

We say lie on her when they belie her.

Lie with her? Zounds, that's fulsome.

Handkerchief, confession, handkerchief.

To confess and be hanged for his labor.

Or first to be hanged and then to confess.

I tremble at it.

Nature would not invest herself

with such shadowing passion...

...without some instruction.

It is not words that shakes me thus!

Pish!

Noses, ears and lips.

Is't possible?

Confess, handkerchief.

O, devil.

Work on, my medicine, work.

How now, my lord. My lord, I say. Othello.

- How now, Cassio.

- What's the matter?

My lord is fallen into an epilepsy.

His second fit, he had one yesterday.

- Rub him about the temples.

- No, forbear.

The lethargy must have his quiet

course. If not, he foams at mouth...

...and by and by breaks

out to savage madness.

Look, he stirs.

Do you withdraw yourself.

He will recover straight.

When he is gone, I would on

great occasion speak with you.

How now, general?

Have you not hurt your head?

Dost thou mock me?

I mock you? No, by heaven.

Would you would bear

your fortunes like a man!

A horned man's a monster and a beast.

There's many a beast then in a

populous city and many a civil monster.

- Did he confess?

- Good sir, be a man.

Think every bearded fellow that's

but yoked may draw with you.

There's millions now alive that

nightly lie in those unproper beds...

...which they dare swear

peculiar. Your case is better.

O, 'tis the spite of hell, the fiend's arch

- mock...

...to lip a wanton in a secure

couch and to suppose her chaste.

No, let me know.

And knowing what I am,

I know what she shall be.

O, thou art wise, 'tis certain.

Stand you a while apart. Confine

yourself but in a patient list.

Whilst you were here

o'erwhelmed with your grief...

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes