Othello Page #7

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...I should have found in some

place of my soul a drop ofpatience.

But alas, there, where

I have garnered up my heart...

...where either I must live

or bear no life...

...the fountain from the which

my current runs or else dries up...

...to be discarded or keep as a cistern

for foul toads to knot and gender in!

O thou...

...who art so lovely fair...

...and smells so sweet

that the sense aches at thee.

Wouldst thou had never been born!

Alas, what ignorant

sin have I committed?

Was this fair paper

made to write "whore" upon?

- What committed! Lmpudent strumpet!

- By heaven, you do me wrong.

- Are you not a strumpet?

- I am a Christian!

What! Not a whore?

- No, as I shall be saved.

- Is it possible?

Heaven forgive us!

I cry you mercy then.

I took you for that cunning whore of

Venice that married with Othello.

You, mistress...

...who have the office opposite

St. Peter and keeps the gate of hell!

You, you, ay, you!

We have done our course.

I pray you, turn the key,

and keep our counsel.

Am I that name, lago?

What name, fair lady?

Such as my lord did say I was.

He called her whore.

Why did he so?

I do not know.

I am sure I am none such.

Do not weep!

Do not weep.

Alas the day!

Hath she forsook

so many noble matches...

...her father, her country,

her friends to be called whore?

Would it not make one weep?

It is my wretched fortune.

O, good lago...

...what shall I do to win my lord again?

Good friend...

...go to him...

...for by this light of heaven,

I know not how I lost him.

Here I kneel:

If ever my will did trespass

against his love...

...either in discourse

of thought or actual deed...

...or that mine eyes, mine ears...

...or any sense, delighted

them in any other form...

...or that I do not yet...

...and ever did and ever will...

...though he do shake me

off to beggarly divorcement...

...love him dearly...

...comfort forswear me!

Unkindness may do much...

...and his unkindness

may defeat my life...

...but never taint my love.

I cannot say "whore."

It does abhor me now

I speak the word.

To do the act that might

the addition earn...

...not the world's mass

of vanity could make me!

I pray you, be content.

'Tis but his humor:

The business of the state does him

offense, and he does chide with you.

- Lf it were no other...

- It is so, I warrant.

Hark, how these

instruments summon to supper!

The messengers of Venice stay the meat.

Go in and weep not.

All things shall be well.

- How now, Roderigo?

- Thou deals unjustly with me.

- What in the contrary?

- Every day thou daffest me.

I will no longer endure it.

Nor am I persuaded to put up in

peace what already I've suffered.

- Will you hear me?

- Your words and performance are not kin.

- You charge me most unjustly.

- With nought but truth!

I will make myself known to Desdemona.

If she will return me my jewels...

...I will give over my suit

and repent my unlawful solicitation.

If not...

...assure yourself, I will seek

satisfaction of you.

You have said now.

Ay, and said nothing but what

I protest intendment of doing.

Why, now I see...

...there's mettle in thee.

And even from now do build on thee

a better opinion than before.

Give me thy hand, Roderigo.

Thou hast taken against me a just

exception. Yet, I protest...

...l've dealt most justly in thy affair.

- It's not appeared.

I grant that and your suspicions

are not without wit and judgment.

But if thou hast

that in thee indeed...

...which I have greater reason to

believe now...

...I mean purpose, courage and valor,

this night show it.

If thou the next night following

enjoy not Desdemona...

...take me from this world

and devise engines on my life.

Well...

...what is it?

This is the night that either

makes me or fordoes me quite.

Trouble yourself no further, sir.

O, pardon me.

It will do me good to walk.

Desdemona!

- My lord?

- Get thee to bed on the instant.

I shall return forthwith.

Dismiss your attendant there.

Look it be done.

I will, my lord.

Madam, good night.

- I humbly thank your ladyship.

- Your honor is most welcome.

Will you walk, sir?

Dismiss me?

'Twas his bidding.

I would you'd never seen him.

So would not I!

Prithee...

...unpin me here.

The poor soul sat sighing

By a sycamore tree

My mother had a maid called Barbary.

She was in love

and he she loved proved mad...

...and did forsake her.

She had a song of "Willow."

An old thing it was,

but it expressed her fortune.

And she died singing it.

That song tonight

will not go from my mind.

The poor soul sat sighing

By a sycamore tree

Sing willow, willow, willow

Her hand on her bosom

Her head on her knee

Sing willow, willow, willow

Her salt tears fell from her

And softened the stones

Sing willow, willow, willow

So get thee gone, good night.

Mine eyes do itch.

Does that bode weeping?

'Tis neither here nor there.

I have heard it said so.

O, these men...

...these men!

Dost thou in conscience think,

tell me Emilia, that there be women...

...do abuse their husbands

in such gross kind?

There be some, no question.

Wouldst thou do such a deed?

- Would not you?

- No, by this heavenly light.

Nor I by this heavenly light.

I might do it as well in the dark.

Wouldst thou do

such a deed for all the world?

The world's a huge thing.

It is a great price for a small vice.

I think thou wouldst not.

I think I should

and undo it again when I'd done it.

For the whole world?

Who'd not make her husband

a cuckold to make him a monarch?

I should venture purgatory for it.

I don't think there

is any such woman.

Yes...

...a dozen.

But I do think it is their

husbands' faults if wives do fall.

Say that they slack their duties...

...and pour our treasures

into foreign laps.

Or else break out in peevish jealousies,

throwing restraint upon us.

Or say they strike us.

Why, we have galls...

...and though we have some grace,

yet have we some revenge.

Let husbands know their wives

have sense like them.

They see and smell...

...and have their palates both for

sweet and sour as husbands have.

What is it that they do

when they change us for others?

Is it sport?

I think it is.

And doth affection breed it?

I think it doth.

Is it frailty that thus errs?

I think so too.

And have not we affections...

...desires for sport,

and frailty as men have?

Then let them use us well.

Else let them know the ills we do,

their ills instruct us so.

Good night.

- Be near at hand, I may miscarry in it.

- Here, at thy hand...

...be bold, and take thy stand.

'Tis but a man gone.

Forth my sword, he dies!

If Cassio do remain, he hath a daily

beauty in his life that makes me ugly.

Besides, he may unfold me to the Moor...

...there stand I in much peril.

No, he must die.

Villain, thou diest!

Help, ho!

O villain that I am!

Murder! Murder!

Murder!

It is some mischance.

The cry is very direful!

Help!

O wretched villain!

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