Othello Page #9

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Not a jot.

In faith, I fear it has.

I hope you will consider what

is spoke comes from my love.

But I do see you are moved.

I am to pray you not to strain

my speech to grosser issues...

...nor to larger reach than to suspicion.

- I will not.

- Should you do so, my lord...

...my speech would fall

into such vile success...

...as my thoughts aim not at.

Cassio is my trusty friend.

My lord, I see you are moved.

No, not much moved.

I do not think but Desdemona's honest.

Long live her so and

long live you to think so.

And yet...

...how nature erring from itself...

Ay, there's the point,

as to be bold with you.

Not to affect many proposed matches of

her own clime, complexion and degree...

...whereto we see in all things nature tends.

Fie! One may smell in

such a will most rank...

...foul disproportion...

...thoughts unnatural.

But pardon me, I do not in

position distinctly speak of her...

...though I may fear her will,

recoiling to her better judgment...

...may fall to match you with her

country forms and happily repent.

Farewell, farewell.

If more thou dost perceive, let me know more.

Set on thy wife to observe.

- Leave me, lago.

- My lord, I take my leave.

Why did I marry?

This honest creature doubtless

sees and knows more...

...much more than he unfolds.

My noble lord...

...I would I might entreat your

honor to scan this thing no further.

Leave it to time.

Though it be fit that

Cassio have his place...

...for sure, he fills

it up with great ability.

Yet if you please to hold him off awhile...

...you shall by that

perceive him and his means.

Note if your lady strain his entertainment

with any strong or vehement importunity...

...much will be seen in that.

And in the meantime...

...let me be thought too busy in my fears...

As worthy cause I have to fear I am.

- And hold her free, I

do beseech your honor.

- Fear not my government!

- My lord, I once more take my leave.

This fellow's of exceeding honesty...

...and knows all qualities with

a learned spirit of human dealings.

If I do...

...prove her haggard...

...though that her jesses

were my dear heartstrings...

...I'd whistle her off and

let her down the wind...

...to pray at fortune.

Haply for I am black...

...and have not those soft parts of

conversation that chamberers have.

Or for I am declined into the vale of years.

Yet that's not much.

She's gone.

I am abused...

...and my relief must be to loathe her!

O, curse of marriage...

...that we may call these delicate

creatures ours and not their appetites.

I'd rather be a toad, and live

upon the vapor in a dungeon...

...than keep a corner in the

thing I love for others' uses.

Yet 'tis the plague of great ones.

Prerogatived are we less than the base.

'Tis destiny unshunnable, like death.

Even then this forked

plague is fated to us...

...when we do quicken.

Look, she comes.

If she be false...

...o, then heaven mocks itself.

- I'll not believe't.

- How now, my dear othello.

Your dinner, and the generous islanders

by you invited, do attend your presence.

I am to blame.

Why do you speak so

faintly? Are you not well?

I have a pain...

...upon my forehead.

- Here.

- Oh.

Faith, that's with watching.

'Twill away again.

Let me but bind it hard,

within an hour, it will be well.

Your napkin is too little, let it alone.

Come.

I'll go in with you.

DESDEMoNA:
I'm very sorry

that you are not well.

I'm glad I have found this napkin.

This was her first remembrance from the Moor.

My wayward husband hath a hundred

times wooed me to steal it.

But she so loves the token...

...for he conjured her

she should ever keep it...

...that she reserves it evermore

about her to kiss and talk to.

I'll have a copy made and give't to lago.

What he will do with it, heaven knows, not I.

I nothing, no, but for his fantasy.

How now? What do you here alone?

Do not you chide, I have a thing for you.

- A thing for me? It is a common thing.

- Ha!

- To have a foolish wife.

- O, is that all?

What would you give me now

for that same handkerchief?

- What handkerchief?

- What handkerchief?

Why, that the Moor first gave to Desdemona...

...that which so often you did bid me steal.

- Hast stol'n it from her?

- No, faith, she let it drop by negligence.

To th'advantage, I, being there,

took't up. Look, here it is.

A good wench, give it me.

What will you do with't...

...that you have been so

earnest to have me filch it?

Why, what's that to you?

If it be not for some

purpose of import, give't me.

Poor lady, she'll run mad if she do lack it.

Be not acknown on't. I have a use for it.

O, go, relieve me.

I will in Cassio's lodging lose

this napkin and let him find it.

Trifles light as air are to

the jealous confirmations...

...strong as proofs of holy writ.

This may do something.

The Moor already changes with my poison.

Dangerous conceits are in

their natures poisons...

...which at the first are

scarce found to distaste...

...but with a little act upon the

blood burn like the mines of sulfur.

I did say so. Look where he comes.

Not poppy, nor mandragora...

...nor all the drowsy syrups of the world...

...shall ever medicine

thee to that sweet sleep...

...which thou owedst yesterday.

False to me?

- To me!

- How now, general. No more of that.

Avaunt. Be gone.

Thou hast set me on the rack.

I swear 'tis better to be much abused...

...than but to know't a little.

- How now.

What sense had I of her stolen hours of lust?

I saw't not, thought it

not, it harmed not me.

I slept the next night

well, was free and merry.

I found not Cassio's kisses on her lips.

He that is robbed not wanting what is stolen,

let him not know't and he's not robbed.

- I am sorry to hear.

- I had been happy if the general camp...

...pioneers and all, had

tasted her sweet body...

...so I had nothing known.

O, now...

...for ever farewell the tranquil mind.

Farewell content.

Farewell the plumed troops and the

big wars that make ambition virtue.

O, farewell.

Farewell the neighing steed

and the shrill trump...

...the spirit-stirring drum,

the ear- piercing fife...

...the royal banner and all quality...

...pride, pomp and

circumstance of glorious war!

And, o, you mortal engines,

whose rude throats...

...th'immortal Jove's dread

clamors counterfeit, farewell!

- Othello's occupation's gone!

- Is't possible, my lord?

Villain, be sure thou prove my love a whore.

Be sure of it, give me the ocular proof

or by the worth of man's eternal soul...

...thou hadst been better have born

a dog than answer my waked wrath.

- Is't come to this?

- Make me to see't or prove it...

...that the probation bear no

hinge nor loop to hang a doubt on...

...or woe upon thy life!

- My noble lord...

If thou dost slander her and

torture me, never pray more.

Abandon all remorse, on horror's

head horrors accumulate...

...do deeds to make heaven

weep, all earth amazed...

...for nothing canst thou to

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