Othello Page #15

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- Here, here. For heaven's

sake, help me. MAN 4: Murder!

IAGo:
What is the matter? What

are you, that cry so grievously?

Lago, I am undone, spoiled by villains.

O, me, lieutenant. What

villains have done this?

I think that one of them is

hereabout, he cannot make away.

Help me here.

That's one of them.

IAGo:
O, murderous slave. MAN 1: Murder!

Help! Help!

Villain.

- Damned lago. O, inhuman dog. MAN 1: Help!

Kill men i'th'dark!? Where

be these bloody thieves?

Murder! Murder!

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

As you shall prove us, praise us.

IAGo:
Signor Lodovico?

- He, sir.

I cry you mercy. Here's

Cassio hurt by villains.

- Cassio.

- How is't, brother?

- My leg is cut in two.

- Marry, heaven forbid.

- Light, light, gentlemen.

What is the matter?!

- Who is't that cried?

- Who is't that cried?

O, my dear Cassio. O, my sweet Cassio.

IAGo:
O, notable strumpet.

Cassio, may you suspect who they should be...

...that have thus have mangled you?

- No.

I am sorry to find you thus.

I have been to seek you.

Alas, he faints.

O, Cassio.

Gentlemen all, I do suspect

this trash to be a party in this.

Patience a while, good Cassio.

Come, come, lend me a light.

Know we this face or no?

Alas, my friend and my

dear countryman Roderigo.

- O, heaven, Roderigo.

- What! Of venice?

- Even he, sir. Did you know him?

- Know him? Ay.

Signor Gratiano, I cry you gentle pardon.

These bloody accidents must excuse

my manners for so neglecting you.

How is it, Cassio?

Some good man bear him carefully from hence.

I'll fetch the general's surgeon.

For you, mistress, save you your labor!

He that lies slain here,

Cassio, was my dear friend.

What malice was between you?

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

What, look you pale? O,

bear him within doors.

- No.

- Look you pale, mistress?

Behold her well, I pray

you. Do you see, gentlemen?

Nay, guiltiness will speak,

though tongues were out of use.

'Las, what's the matter?

What's the matter, husband?

Cassio has here been set on in the dark

by Roderigo and fellows that are scaped.

He's almost slain and Roderigo dead.

Alas, good gentleman! Alas, good Cassio!

This is the fruit of whoring.

Pray, Emilia, go know of

Cassio where he supped tonight.

What, do you shake at that?

He supped at my house,

but I therefore shake not.

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

Cassio! Cassio!

- Kind gentlemen. BIANCA: Cassio!

Kind gentlemen, let's go

see poor Cassio dressed.

Emilia, run you to the citadel, tell

my lord and lady what hath happed.

Will you go on? I pray.

This is the night that either makes me...

...or fordoes me quite.

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 my 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 plucked the rose, I

cannot give it vital growth again.

It needs must wither.

I'll smell it on the tree.

O, balmy breath...

...that dost almost persuade

Justice to break her sword.

Once more, once more.

Be thus when thou art dead...

...and I will kill thee, and love thee after.

Once 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.

Who's there?

Othello?

Ay, Desdemona.

Will you come to bed, my lord?

Have you prayed tonight, Desdemona?

Ay, my good lord.

If you bethink yourself of any crime...

...unreconciled as yet to heaven

and grace, solicit for it straight.

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

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.

- Talk you of killing?

- Ay, I do.

Then heaven have mercy on me.

Amen, with all my heart.

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

And yet I fear you.

Why I should fear I know not,

since guiltiness I know not...

...and yet I feel I fear.

Think on thy sins.

But they are loves I bear to you.

And for that thou diest.

That death's unnatural that kills for loving.

- Peace, and be still!

- I will so.

What's the matter?

That handkerchief which

I so loved and gave thee...

...thou gav'st to Cassio.

No, by my life and soul.

Send for the man, and ask him.

Sweet soul, take heed, take heed of perjury.

- Thou art on thy deathbed.

- Ay, but not yet to die.

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.

- Then Lord have mercy on me.

- I say, amen.

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.

By heaven, I saw my handkerchief in his hand.

O, perjured 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!

- He found it then, I never gave it him.

Send for him hither. Let him confess a truth.

He hath confessed.

What, my lord?

That he hath used thee.

How? Unlawfully?

Ay.

He will not say so.

No, his mouth is stopped.

Honest lago hath ta'en order for't.

O, my fear interprets. What, is he dead?

Had all his hairs been lives, my

great revenge had stomach for them all.

O, alas! He is betrayed and I undone.

Out, strumpet. Weep'st

thou for him to my face?

- O, banish me, my lord, but kill me not.

- Down, strumpet!

- Kill me tomorrow.

- Nay, if you strive...

- But half an hour.

- Being done, there is no pause.

- But while I say one prayer!

- It is too late!

DESDEMoNA:
O, lord...

...lord...

...lord.

My lord, my lord!

What, ho! My lord, my lord!

What voice 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...

What, ho! My lord, my lord!

So... Who's there?

O, good my lord, I'd speak with you.

Yes, 'tis Emilia. By and by!

She's dead.

'Tis like she comes to

speak of Cassio's death.

The noise was high.

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 th'affrighted

globe did yawn at alteration.

I do beseech you that I

may speak with you, good my lord.

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