Othello Page #4

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betwixt an erring barbarian...

...and a super-subtle venetian,

be not too hard for my wits...

...and all the tribe of

hell, thou shalt enjoy her.

Go, make money.

A pox of drowning thyself.

It's clean out of the way.

Seek thou rather to be hanged

in compassing thy joy...

...than to be drowned and go without her.

Wilt thou be fast to my hopes

if I depend on the issue?

Thou art sure of me.

Go, make money.

I have told thee often and

I tell thee again and again...

...I hate the Moor.

My cause is hearted,

thine hath no less reason.

Let us be conjunctive in

our revenge against him.

If thou canst cuckold him...

...thou dost thyself a

pleasure and me a sport.

There are many events in the womb

of time which will be delivered.

Traverse. Go, provide thy money.

We'll have more of this tomorrow.

- Where shall we meet in the morning?

- At my lodging.

- I'll be with thee betimes.

- Go to. Farewell.

Do you hear, Roderigo?

What sayst thou?

No more of drowning, do you hear?

I am changed.

- I'll go sell all my land.

- Go to. Farewell.

Put money enough in your purse.

Thus do I ever make my fool my purse.

For I mine own gained

knowledge should profane...

...if I would time expend with such

a snipe but for my sport and profit.

I hate the Moor.

And it is thought abroad that 'twixt

my sheets he has done my office.

I know not if't be true...

...yet I, for mere suspicion in

that kind, will do as if for surety.

He holds me well, the better

shall my purpose work on him.

Cassio is a proper man.

Let me see, now. To get his place...

...and to plume up my will a double knavery.

How?

How? Let me see.

After some time, to abuse othello's ear

that he is too familiar with his wife.

He hath a person and a smooth

dispose to be suspected...

...framed to make women false.

The Moor is of a free and open nature...

...that thinks men honest

that but seem to be so...

...and would as tenderly be

led by the nose as asses are.

I have it.

It is engendered.

Hell and night must bring

this monstrous birth...

...to the world's light.

MoNTANo:
Methinks the wind

does speak aloud at land.

A fuller blast ne'er shook our battlements.

If it hath ruffianed so upon

the sea, what ribs of oak...

...when the huge mountain

melts, can hold the mortise?

- What shall we hear of this?

- A segregation of the Turkish fleet...

...for do but stand upon the foaming shore,

the chidden billow seems to pelt the clouds.

The wind-shaked surge with

high and monstrous mane...

...seems to pour water on the burning Bear...

...and quench the guards

of the ever-fixed Pole.

I never did like molestation

view on the enchafed flood.

If the Turkish fleet be not ensheltered

and embayed, they are drowned.

It is impossible they bear it out.

The ship is here put in, a veronesa.

Michael Cassio, lieutenant to the

warlike Moor othello, is come ashore.

The Moor himself at sea and is in

full commission here for Cyprus.

I am glad on't. 'Tis a worthy governor.

For I have served him and the

man commands like a full soldier.

CASSlo:
Thanks, you the valiant of this

warlike isle that so approve the Moor!

Let the heavens give him

defense against the elements...

...for I have lost him on a dangerous sea.

- Is he well shipped?

- His bark is stoutly timbered.

His pilot of very expert

and approved allowance.

Therefore my hopes, not surfeited

to death, stand in bold cure.

CASSlo:
Hello, what noise?

The town is empty. On the brow o'th'sea

stand ranks of people and they cry, "A sail!"

My hopes do shape him for the governor.

They do discharge

their shot of courtesy.

- Our friends at least. CASSlo: I pray you.

- Go forth and give us truth who arrived.

- I shall.

Good lieutenant, is your general married?

Most fortunately.

He hath achieved a maid that

paragons description and wild fame.

One that excels the

quirks of blazoning pens...

...and in th'essential vesture of

creation does bare all excellency.

CASSlo:
Who has put in?

- 'Tis one lago, ancient to the general.

He has had most favorable and happy speed.

Tempests themselves, high

seas and howling winds...

...the guttered rocks

and congregated sands...

...traitors ensteeped to

clog the guiltless keel...

...as having sense of beauty

do omit their mortal natures...

...letting go safely by the divine Desdemona.

What is she?

She that I speak of, our

great captain's captain...

...left in the conduct of the bold lago...

...whose footing here anticipates

our thoughts a se'nnight's speed.

Great Jove, othello guard...

...and swell his sail with

thine own powerful breath...

...that he may bless this

bay with his tall ship...

...and swiftly come to Desdemona's arms...

...give renewed fire to our extincted

spirits and bring all Cyprus comfort.

O, behold.

The riches of the ship is come onshore.

You men of Cyprus, let her have your knees.

Hail to thee, lady, and

the grace of heaven...

...before, behind thee and on

every hand enwheel thee round.

I thank thee, valiant Cassio.

What tidings can you tell me of my lord?

He is not yet arrived.

Nor know I aught but that he's

well and will be shortly here.

But I fear. How lost you company?

The great contention of the sea

and skies parted our fellowship.

CASSlo:
But hark, a sail.

- They bring their greeting to the citadel.

- This likewise is a friend.

CASSlo:
See for the news.

Good ancient, you are

welcome. Welcome, mistress.

Let it not gall your patience,

good lago, that I extend my manners.

'Tis my breeding that gives

me this bold show of courtesy.

Would she give you so much of her lips

as her tongue she oft bestows on me...

...you'd have enough.

You have little cause to say so.

Come on, you are pictures out of

doors, bells in your parlors...

...wild cats in your kitchens,

saints in your injuries...

...devils being offended, players in your

housewifery and housewives in your beds.

- Fie upon thee, slanderer.

- Nay, it is true or else I am a Turk.

You rise to play and go to bed to work.

Do not learn of him, Emilia,

though he be thy husband.

How say you, Cassio?

Is he not a most profane

and liberal counselor?

He speaks home, madam.

You may relish him more in the

soldier than in the scholar.

Why, Cassio.

He takes her by the palm.

Ay, well said, whisper.

With as little a web as this will

I ensnare as great a fly as Cassio.

Ay, smile upon her, do. I will

catch you in your own courtesies.

You say true, 'tis so indeed.

If such tricks as these strip

you out of your lieutenantry...

...it were better you had not

kissed your three fingers so oft...

...which now again you are

most apt to play the sir in.

Oh, very good. Well-kissed, an

excellent courtesy. 'Tis so indeed.

Yet again your fingers to your lips?

Would they were Clyster pipes for your sake.

The Moor. I know his trumpet.

'Tis truly so.

Lo where he comes.

O, my fair warrior.

O, my dear othello.

It gives me wonder great as my

content to see you here before me.

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