GENTLE MUSIC PLAYS
Tush! Never tell me! I take it
much unkindly that thou, Iago,
who hast had my purse as if the strings
were thine, shouldst know of this.
'Sblood, but you will not hear me!
If ever I did dream of such
a matter, abhor me.
Thou told'st me
thou didst hold him in thy hate.
Despise me, if I do not.
Sit down! Come!
Three great ones of the city,
in personal suit to make me
his lieutenant, off-capp'd to him,
and, by the faith of man, I know my
price. I am worth no worse a place.
But he, as loving his own pride
and purposes, evades them,
with a bombast circumstance,
horribly stuff'd
with epithets of war.
And, in conclusion,
nonsuits my mediators.
For, "Certes," says he,
"I have already chose my officer."
And what was he?
Forsooth, a great arithmetician.
One Michael Cassio, a Florentine,
a fellow almost
damn'd in a fair wife.
That never set a squadron
in the field,
nor the division of a battle knows
more than a spinster.
Mere prattle, without practice,
is all his soldiership.
But he, sir, had the election.
And I...
..of whom his eyes had seen
the proof at Rhodes, at Cyprus,
and on other grounds Christian and
heathen, must be lee'd and calm'd
by debitor and creditor. This...
..counter-caster, he, in his time,
must his lieutenant be
and I - God bless the mark!
- his Moorship's ensign.
By heaven, I rather would have
been his hangman.
Why, there's no remedy!
'Tis the curse of service.
Preferment goes by letter and
affection, and not by old gradation
where each second stood
heir to the first.
Now, sir, be judge yourself,
whether I in any just term
am affined to love this Moor.
I would not follow him, then.
O, sir, content you.
I follow him
to serve my turn upon him.
We cannot all be masters, nor all
masters cannot be truly follow'd.
For, sir, it is
as sure as you are Roderigo,
were I this Moor - ha!
- I would not be Iago.
In following him,
I follow but myself.
Heaven is my judge,
not I for love nor duty,
but, seeming so,
for my peculiar end.
For when my outward action
doth demonstrate
the native act and figure
of my heart in compliment extern,
'tis not long after but I will
wear my heart upon my sleeve
for daws to peck at.
Nyack-yack-yack-yack-yack!
RODERIGO LAUGHS
I am not what I am.
Oh, what a full fortune
does the thicklips owe
if he can carry't thus!
AUDIENCE LAUGH
THEY LAUGH
Brrr!
Brrr!
Brrr!
Brrr-brrr-brrr!
Brrr-brrr!
Oh...
Call up her father.
Rouse him, make after him.
Proclaim him in the streets.
Poison his delight.
Incense her kinsmen and, though he
in a fertile climate dwell,
plague him with flies.
Though that his joy be joy, yet
throw such changes of vexation on't,
as it may lose some colour.
Here is her father's house.
I'll call aloud.
Do.
FAINTLY: What, ho, Brabantio!
Signior Brabantio, ho!
MOCKINGLY: Signior Brabantio, ho!
AUDIENCE LAUGHS
Awake!
What, ho, Brabantio!
Thieves! Thieves! Thieves!
Look to your house,
your daughter and your bags!
Thieves! Thieves!
What is the reason of this
terrible summons?
What's the matter there?
Signior, is all your family within?
Are your doors lock'd?
Why, wherefore ask you this?
'Zounds, sir, for shame,
you're robb'd. Put on your gown.
Your heart's burst,
you've lost half your soul.
Even now... Now! Now...
Now! Very now... Very now...
..an old black ram
is tapping your white ewe!
RODERIGO SNORTS
Arise, arise!
Awake the snorting
citizens with the bell,
or else the devil will make
a grandsire of you.
Arise, I say!
What, have you lost your wits?
Most reverend signior,
do you know my voice?
Not I. What are you?
My name is Roderigo.
The worser welcome.
I have charged thee not to
haunt about my doors.
In honest plainness thou hast heard
me say my daughter is not for thee.
And now, in madness, being full
of supper and distempering draughts,
upon malicious knavery,
dost thou come to start my quiet.
But sir, sir, sir, sir...
But thou must be sure,
my spirit and my place have in them
power to make this bitter to thee.
Patience, good sir!
What tell'st thou me of robbing?
This is Venice,
my house is not a grange.
Most grave Brabantio, in simple
and pure soul I come to you...
'Zounds, sir, you are one of those
that will not serve God
if the devil bid you.
Because we come to do you service
and you think we are ruffians,
you'll have your daughter covered
with a Barbary horse.
RODERIGO SNIGGERS
You'll have your nephews
neigh to you,
you'll have coursers for cousins
and gennets for germans.
What profane wretch art thou?
I am one, sir, that comes to tell
you your daughter and the Moor
are now making
the beast with two backs.
Thou art a villain.
You are a senator!
This thou shalt answer.
I know thee, Roderigo.
Sir, I will answer any thing.
But, I beseech you, if't be
your pleasure and most wise consent,
as partly I find it is,
that your fair daughter,
at this odd-even
and dull watch o' the night,
transported, with no worse nor
better guard
but with a knave of common hire,
a gondolier, to the gross clasps
of a lascivious Moor...
Boom!
..if this be known to you
and your allowance,
we then have done you bold
and saucy wrongs.
But if you know not this, my manners
tell me we have your wrong rebuke.
Boom-boom!
Do not believe that,
from the sense of all civility,
I thus would play
and trifle with your reverence.
Your daughter, if you have
not given her leave,
I say again,
hath made a gross revolt.
Tying her duty... Duty! ..beauty...
Beauty! ..wit and fortunes...
Fortunes!
..in an extravagant and wheeling
stranger of here and every where.
Boom-boom-boom!
Straight satisfy yourself.
If she be in her chamber
or your house,
let loose on me the justice
of the state for thus deluding you.
Strike on the tinder, ho!
Call up all my people!
Light, I say! Light!
No, no, no, no, no, no.
Farewell, farewell.
AUDIENCE LAUGHS
It seems not meet, nor wholesome
to my place, to be produced -
as if I stay,
I shall - against the Moor.
That you shall surely find him,
lead to the Sagittary...
The Sagittary. ..the raised search,
and there will I be. So, farewell.
It is too true an evil. Gone she is.
With the Moor, say'st thou? Uh-huh.
Are they married, think you?
Truly, I think they are.
O, heavens! How got she out?!
O, treason of the blood!
Fathers, from hence trust not your
daughters' minds
by what you see them act.
Is there not charms by which
the property of youth and maidhood
may be abused? Have you not read,
Roderigo, of some such thing?
Yes, sir, I have indeed.
O, would that you had had her!
Do you know where we may apprehend
her and the Moor?
I think I can discover him,
if you please,
to get good guard
and go along with me.
Pray you, lead on. At every house
I'll call, I may command at most.
On, good Roderigo.
I'll deserve your pains.
Nah, but he prated, and spoke such
scurvy and provoking terms
against your honour, that...
Sir!
Though in the trade of war
I have slain men,
yet I do hold it very stuff
o' the conscience
to do no contrived murder.
I lack iniquity sometimes
to do me service.
Nine or ten times I'd have thought
to have yerk'd him here,
under the ribs.
'Tis better as it is.
But, I pray you, sir,
are you fast married?
JOVIAL GUITAR CHORDS
Be... Be you assured of this,
that the magnifico is much beloved,
and hath in his effect a voice
potential as double as the duke's.
He will divorce you, or put upon you
what restraint
or grievance the law,
with all his might to enforce it on,
will give him cable.
Let him do his spite.
My services which I have done
the signiory
shall out-tongue his complaints.
'Tis yet to know - which, when I
know that boasting is an honour,
I shall promulgate -
I fetch my life and being
from men of royal siege,
and my demerits may speak unbonneted
to as proud a fortune
as this that I have reach'd.
For know, Iago... Yes, sir?
..but that I love the
gentle Desdemona,
I would not
my unhoused free condition
put into circumscription and confine
for the sea's worth.
But, look! What lights come yond?
Those are the raised father and his
friends. You were best go in.
Not I, I must be found.
My parts, my title and my perfect
soul shall manifest me rightly.
Is it they?
By Janus, I think not.
The servant of the duke,
and my lieutenant.
The goodness of the night upon you,
friends!
What is the news?
The duke does greet you, general.
She requires your haste-post-haste
appearance, even on the instant.
What is the matter, think you?
Something from Cyprus
as I may divine.
It is a business of some heat.
The galleys have sent a dozen
sequent messengers this very night
at one another's heels, and many
of the consuls, raised and met,
are at the duke's already.
You have been hotly call'd for.
When, being not at
your lodging to be found,
the senate hath sent out three
several quests to search you out.
'Tis well I am found by you.
I will but spend a word
here in the house, and go with you.
Ensign?! Sir?
What makes he here?
'Faith, he tonight hath
boarded a land carrack.
If it prove lawful prize,
he's made forever.
I do not understand.
He's married.
To who?
Marry, to...
Come, captain, will you go?
Have with you. Here comes another
troop to seek for you.
General, it is Brabantio.
Be advised, he comes to bad intent.
Holla! Stand there!
Signior, it is the Moor.
Down with him! Thief!
You, Roderigo!
Come, sir, I am for you.
Keep up your bright swords,
for the dew will rust them.
Good signior, you shall more command
with years than with your weapons.
O, thou foul thief,
where hast thou stow'd my daughter?
Damn'd as thou art,
thou hast enchanted her.
For I'll refer me
to all things of sense... Signior...
..if she in chains
of magic were not bound,
whether a maid so tender,
fair and happy,
so opposite to marriage
that she shunned
the wealthy curled darlings
of our nation...
Get up!
AUDIENCE LAUGHS
..would ever have,
to incur a general mock,
run from her guardage to the
sooty bosom of such a thing as thou,
to fear, not to delight.
Judge me, the world,
if 'tis not gross in sense
that thou hast practised
on her with foul charms,
abused her delicate youth with drugs
or minerals that weakens motion,
I'll have't disputed on.
'Tis probable
and palpable to thinking.
I therefore apprehend and do attach
thee for an abuser of the world,
a practiser of arts prohibited
and out of warrant.
Lay hold upon him. If he do resist,
subdue him at his peril.
Hold your hands, both
you of my inclining, and the rest.
Were it my cue to fight, I should
have known it without a prompter.
Where will you that I go
to answer this your charge?
To prison, till fit time of law
and course of direct session
call thee to answer.
What if I do obey? How may the duke
be therewith satisfied,
whose officers are here
about my side
upon some present business
of the state to bring me to her?
'Tis true, most worthy signior.
The duke's in council and your noble
self, I am sure, is sent for.
How? The duke in council?!
In this time of night?
Bring him away.
Mine's not an idle cause.
The duke herself,
or any of my brothers of the state,
cannot but feel this wrong
as 'twere their own.
For, if such actions
shall have passage free,
bond-slaves and pagans
shall our statesmen be.
DRAMATIC MUSIC
There's no composition in these
news that gives them credit.
Indeed, they are disproportion'd,
My letters say 107 galleys.
And mine 140. And mine 200,
yet do they all confirm
a Turkish fleet,
and bearing up to Cyprus.
Now, what's the business?
The Turkish preparation
makes for Rhodes. Rhodes?!
So was I bid report here to
the state by Signior Angelo.
How say you by this change?
This cannot be,
by no assay of reason.
'Tis a pageant,
to keep us in false gaze.
Here is more news.
Yes?!
The Ottomites,
reverend and gracious,
steering with due course
towards the isle of Rhodes,
have there injointed them
with an after fleet.
Ay, so I thought.
How many, as you guess?
Of 30 sail, and now they do
restem their backward course,
bearing with frank appearance
their purposes toward Cyprus.
Signior Montano, your trusty
and most valiant servitor,
with his free duty
recommends you thus,
and prays you to believe him.
'Tis certain, then, for Cyprus.
Marcus Luccicos, is not he in town?
Ah!
He's now in...
..Florence. Write from us,
wish him post-post-haste dispatch.
Here comes my brother.
And the valiant Moor.
Valiant Othello,
we must straight employ you
against the general enemy, Ottoman.
I did not see you.
Welcome, gentle signior. We lack'd
your counsel and your help tonight.
So did I yours.
Good your grace, pardon me,
neither my place
nor aught I heard of business
hath raised me from my bed,
nor doth the general care
take hold on me,
for my particular grief is of
so flood-gate and o'erbearing nature
that it engluts and swallows other
sorrows and it is still itself.
Why, what's the matter?
My daughter! O, my daughter!
Dead?!
Ay, to me.
She is abused, stol'n from me,
and corrupted
by spells and medicines
bought of mountebanks.
For nature so preposterously to err,
being not deficient, blind, or lame
of sense,
sans witchcraft could not.
Whoe'er he be that in this
foul proceeding
hath thus beguiled your daughter
of herself and you of her,
the bloody book of law you shall
yourself read in the bitter letter
after your own sense, yea, though
our proper son stood in your action.
Humbly I thank your grace.
Here is the man...
..this Moor, whom now, it seems,
your special mandate for the
state-affairs hath hither brought.
We are very sorry for it.
What, in your own part,
can you say to this?
Nothing, but this is so!
Most potent, grave,
and reverend signiors,
my very noble
and approved good masters,
that I have ta'en away this old
man's daughter, it is most true.
True, I have married her.
The very head and front of my
offending hath this extent, no more.
Rude am I in my speech,
and little bless'd
with the soft phrase of peace,
therefore little shall I grace
my cause in speaking for myself.
Yet, by your gracious patience,
I will a round unvarnish'd
tale deliver
of my whole course of love.
What drugs, what charms, what
conjuration and what mighty magic,
for such proceeding I am charged
withal, I won his daughter.
A maiden never bold.
Of spirit so still and quiet,
that her motion blush'd at herself.
And she, in spite of nature,
of years,
of country, credit, everything,
to fall in love with what
she fear'd to look on!
It is a judgment
maim'd and most imperfect
that will confess perfection
so could err
against all rules of nature
and must be driven to find out
practises of cunning hell,
why this should be.
But, Othello, speak.
Did you by indirect
and forced courses
subdue and poison this young
maid's affections?
Or came it by request
and such fair question
as soul to soul affordeth?
I do beseech you,
send for the lady to the Sagittary,
and let her speak of me
before her father.
If you do find me
foul in her report,
the trust, the office
I do hold of you,
not only take away, but let your
sentence even fall upon my life.
Fetch Desdemona hither!
Ensign, go bring her,
you best know the place.
And, till she come,
as truly as to heaven
I do confess
the vices of my blood,
So justly to your grave ears
I'll present
how I did thrive in this fair lady's
love, and she in mine.
Say it, Othello.
Her father loved me, oft invited me,
still question'd me
the story of my life,
from year to year,
the battles, sieges,
fortunes that I have passed.
I ran it through,
even from my boyish days,
to the very moment
that he bade me tell it.
Wherein I spake of most
disastrous chances,
of moving accidents
by flood and field,
of hair-breadth scapes in
the imminent deadly breach,
of being taken by the insolent foe
and sold to slavery,
of my redemption thence, and
portance in my traveller's history.
Wherein of antres vast,
deserts idle,
rough quarries, rocks and hills
whose heads touch heaven
it was my hint to speak -
such was my process.
And of the cannibals
that each other eat,
the Anthropophagi
and men whose heads
do grow beneath their shoulders.
This to hear would Desdemona
seriously incline,
but still the house-affairs
would draw her thence.
Which ever as she could
with haste dispatch,
she'd come again, and with a greedy
ear devour up my discourse.
Which, I observing,
took once a pliant hour,
and found good means to draw
from her a prayer of earnest heart
that I would all
my pilgrimage dilate,
whereof by parcels she had something
heard, but not intentively.
I did consent,
and often did beguile
her of her tears,
when I did speak of some distressful
stroke that my youth suffer'd.
My story being done, she gave me
for my pains a world of sighs.
She swore, in faith, 'twas strange,
'twas passing strange,
'twas pitiful,
'twas wondrous pitiful.
She wish'd she had not heard it,
yet she wished...
..that heaven had made her
such a man.
BRABANTIO SCOFFS
She thank'd me, and bade me,
if I had a friend that loved her,
I should but teach him how to tell
my story and that would woo her.
Upon this hint I spake.
She loved me for the dangers
I had pass'd,
and I loved her
that she did pity them.
This only is the witchcraft
I have used.
Here comes the lady,
let her witness it.
I think this tale
would win my daughter, too.
Good Brabantio, take up this
mangled matter at the best.
Men do their broken weapons rather
use than their bare hands.
I pray you, hear her speak.
If she confess that she was half
the wooer, destruction on my head
if my bad blame light on the man!
Come hither, gentle mistress.
Do you perceive
in all this noble company
where most you owe obedience?
My noble father...
..I do perceive here a divided duty.
To you, I am bound
for life and education.
My life and education both do
learn me how to respect you.
You are the lord of duty,
I am hitherto your daughter.
But here's my husband.
And so much duty as my mother
show'd to you,
preferring you before her father,
so much I challenge that I may
profess due to the Moor, my lord.
God be with you, I have done.
Please it, your grace,
on to the state affairs.
I had rather to adopt
a child than get it.
Come hither, Moor.
I hereby give thee that
with all my heart
which, but thou hast already, with
all my heart I would keep from thee.
For your sake, jewel...
..I am glad at soul
I have no other child.
For thy escape would teach me
tyranny, to hang clogs on them.
I have done. Let me speak like
yourself, and lay a sentence,
which, as a grise or step,
may help these
lovers into your favour.
To mourn a mischief
that is past and gone
is the next way to draw
new mischief on.
The robb'd that smiles steals
something from the thief,
he robs himself that spends
a bootless grief.
Ha-ha! So let the Turk of Cyprus
us beguile,
we lose it not,
so long as we can smile.
These sentences, to sugar, or to
gall, on both sides, are equivocal.
But words are words,
I never yet did hear
that the bruised heart
was pierced through the ear.
I humbly beseech you,
proceed to the affairs of state.
The Turk with a most mighty
preparation makes for Cyprus.
Othello, the fortitude of the place
is best known to you,
and though we have there
a substitute
of most allowed sufficiency,
yet opinion, a more sovereign
mistress of effects,
throws a more safer voice on you.
You must be content, therefore,
to slubber the gloss of your new
fortunes
with this more stubborn
and boisterous expedition.
I'll undertake these present
wars against the Ottomites.
Most humbly, therefore,
bending to your state,
I crave fit disposition for my wife.
Due reference of place
and exhibition,
with such accommodation and besort
as levels with her breeding.
Why, at her father's.
I'll not have it so!
Nor I. Nor I.
I would not there reside, to
put my father in impatient thoughts
by being in his eye.
Most gracious duke, to my unfolding
lend your prosperous ear,
And let me find a charter in your
voice to assist my simpleness.
What would you? Speak.
That I did love the Moor
to live with him.
My downright violence
and storm of fortunes
may trumpet to the world.
My heart's subdued even to
the very quality of my lord.
I saw Othello's visage in his mind,
and to his honours
and his valiant parts
did I my soul
and fortunes consecrate.
So that, dear lords, if I be
left behind, a moth of peace,
and he go to the war, the rites
for why I love him are bereft me,
and I a heavy interim shall
support by his dear absence.
Let me go with him.
Let her have your voice.
Vouch with me, heaven,
I therefore beg it not,
to please the palate of my appetite,
but to be free
and bounteous to her mind.
Be it as you shall privately
determine,
either for her stay or going.
The affair cries haste,
and speed must answer it.
You must hence tonight.
Tonight? This night.
With all my heart.
At nine in the morning here
we'll meet again.
Goodnight to every one.
And, noble signior, if virtue
no delighted beauty lack...
Hmm!
..your son-in-law is far more
fair than black!
Adieu, brave Moor.
Use Desdemona well.
Look to her, Moor,
if thou hast eyes to see.
She has deceived her father,
and may thee.
My life upon her faith!
Honest Iago,
my Desdemona must I leave to thee.
I prithee, let thy wife
attend on her,
and bring them
after in the best advantage.
"I saw Othello's
visage in his mind"?
DESDEMONA LAUGHS
Come, Desdemona.
I have but an hour of love,
of worldly matter and direction,
to spend with thee.
We must obey the time!
RODERIGO: Iago?
What say'st thou, noble heart?
What will I do, thinkest thou?
Why, go to bed, and sleep.
I will incontinently drown myself.
AUDIENCE LAUGHS
If thou dost, I shall never love
thee after.
Why, thou silly gentleman?
It is silliness to live
when to live is torment,
and then have we a prescription
to die when death is our physician.
O, villainous!
Since I have looked upon the world
and could distinguish betwixt
a benefit and an injury,
I never found man that knew how
to love himself.
Ere I would say, I would drown
myself for the love of a guinea-hen,
I would change my humanity
with a baboon.
AUDIENCE LAUGHS
What should I do?!
I confess it is my shame
to be so fond,
but it is not in my virtue
to amend it.
Virtue! A fig!
'Tis in ourselves that we are thus -
mm? -
or thus.
If the bean of our lives
had not one scale of reason
to poise another of sensuality,
why, the blood and baseness of our
natures would conduct us
to most preposterous conclusions.
But we have reason to cool
our raging motions,
our carnal stings,
our unbitted lusts,
whereof I take it this that
you call love to be a sect or scion.
It cannot be.
It is merely a lust of the blood
and a permission of the will.
Come, be a man!
AUDIENCE LAUGHS
Drown thyself?
Drown cats and blind puppies.
I have professed me thy friend, huh?
And I confess me knit
to thy deserving
with cables of perdurable toughness.
I could never better stead
thee than now.
Put money in thy purse.
Follow thou the wars.
Follow the wars?!
Defeat thy favour
with an usurped beard.
I say, put money in thy purse.
It cannot long be that Desdemona
should continue her love to this
Moor - put money in thy purse -
nor he his to her.
It was a violent
commencement in her,
and thou shalt see
an answerable sequestration.
Put but money in thy purse.
These Moors are changeable in their
wills - fill thy purse with money -
the food that to him now
is as luscious as locusts,
shall be to him shortly
as bitter as a coloquintida.
HE SNIGGERS
She must change for youth.
When she is sated with his body, she
will find the errors of her choice.
Therefore put money in thy...?
Purse. Purse.
AUDIENCE LAUGHS
If thou wilt needs damn thyself,
do it a more delicate way
than drowning.
Make all the money thou canst.
If sanctimony and a frail vow
betwixt an erring barbarian
and a supersubtle Venetian
be not too hard for my wits
and all the tribes of hell,
thou shalt enjoy her.
Therefore, make...?
Make, make, make, make,
make, make, make...?
Money! Money!
AUDIENCE LAUGHS
A pox on drowning thyself!
AUDIENCE LAUGHS
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.
But wilt thou be fast to my hopes,
if I depend on the issue?
Thou art sure of me, go.
Provide thy money.
I have told thee often,
and I re-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. Hm, hm?
If thou canst cuckold him,
thou dost thyself
a pleasure, me a sport.
There are many things
in the womb of time
which will be delivered.
Traverse! Go, provide thy money.
We will have more of this tomorrow.
Where shall we meet in the morning?
At my lodging.
I'll be with thee betimes.
Go to - farewell.
Eh, do you hear, Roderigo?
I'll sell all my land!
And thus do I ever make
my fool my purse.
For I mine own gain'd
knowledge should profane,
if I would time expend
with such a snipe.
But for my sport and...
..profit.
I hate the Moor.
And it's thought abroad
that 'twixt my sheets
he's done my office.
I know not if't be true,
but 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's a proper man.
Let me see now.
To get his place
and to plume up my will
in double knavery - how?
How?
Let me see - after some time,
to abuse Othello's ears
that he's too familiar
with his wife.
He hath a person
and a smooth dispose
to be suspected,
framed to make women false.
This Moor is of a free
and open nature,
that thinks men honest
that but seem to be so,
and will as tenderly
be led by the nose
as asses are.
SINGSONG: I have it.
It is engender'd.
Hell and night
must bring this monstrous birth
to the world's light.
What from the cape can
you discern at sea?
Nothing at all.
It is a high-wrought flood,
I cannot, 'twixt
the heaven and the main,
descry a sail.
Methinks the wind hath
spoke aloud at land.
A fuller blast ne'er
shook our battlements.
If it hath ruffian'd
so upon the sea,
what ribs of oak,
when mountains melt on them,
can hold the mortise?
What shall we hear of this?
A segregation
of the Turkish fleet.
I never did like molestation view
on the enchafed flood.
If that the Turkish fleet
be not enshelter'd and embay'd,
they are drown'd. It is
impossible to bear it out.
News, lads!
Our wars are done.
The desperate tempest hath
so bang'd the Turks,
that their designment halts.
How! Is this true?
Our ship is here put in,
a Veronesa. Michael Cassio,
lieutenant to the warlike
Moor Othello,
is come on shore.
The Moor himself at sea,
and is in full commission
here for Cyprus.
I am glad on't -
'tis a worthy governor.
But this same Michael Cassio,
though he speak of comfort
touching the Turkish loss,
yet he looks sadly,
and prays the Moor be safe,
for we were parted
with foul and violent tempest.
Pray heavens he be,
for I have served him,
and the man commands
like a full soldier.
Let's to the harbour, ho!
Thanks, you the valiant
of this warlike isle,
so approve the Moor!
O, let the heavens
give him defence
against the elements,
for I have lost us him
on a dangerous sea.
A sail, a sail, a sail!
Well, how now! Who's put in?
'Tis one Iago,
ancient to the general.
He's had most favourable
and happy speed.
Great Jove, Othello guard,
and swell his sail
with thine own powerful breath,
that he may bless this bay
with his tall ship,
make love's quick pants
in Desdemona's arms.
What is she?
Our great captain's captain,
left in the conduct
of the bold Iago.
O, behold, the riches of the ship is
come on shore!
You men of Cyprus,
let her have your knees.
I thank you, valiant Cassio.
What tidings can you
tell me of my lord?
He's not yet arrived.
Nor know I aught
but that he's well
and will be shortly here.
O, but I fear -
how lost you company?
The great contention
of the sea and skies
parted our fellowship.
A sail, a sail! But hark, a sail!
They give their greeting
to the citadel -
this likewise is a friend.
See for the news, go!
Good ensign, you are welcome.
Welcome, mistress.
QUIETLY: Whoa.
Ah, let it not gall
your patience, good Iago,
that thus I extend my manners -
'tis my breeding
that gives me this bold
show of courtesy.
Sir, would she give
you so much of her lips
as of her tongue
she oft bestows on me,
you'd have enough.
Alas, she has no speech.
In faith, too much - I hear
it still, when I have leave
to sleep. Marry,
before your ladyship,
I grant she puts her tongue
a little in her heart,
and chides with thinking.
You have little cause to say so.
Ah, come on.
Come on - you are
pictures out of doors,
bells in your parlours,
wild-cats in your kitchens,
saints in your injuries,
devils being offended,
players in your housewifery,
and housewives' in your beds.
O, fie upon thee, slanderer!
Nay, it's true,
or else I am a Turk.
you rise to play
and go to bed to work.
You shall not write my praise.
No, let me not.
Do not learn of him, Emilia,
though he be thy husband.
How say you, Cassio?
Is he not a most profane
and liberal counsellor?
He speaks home, madam.
You may relish him more
in the soldier than in the scholar.
IAGO LAUGHS
Ah-ah. Ah-ah.
Ah-ah.
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 give thee
in thine own courtship.
You say true - 'tis so,
indeed - if such tricks
as these strip you out
of your lieutenantry,
it had been 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!
'Tis truly so.
Lo, where he comes! Attention!
O, my fair warrior!
My dear Othello!
It gives me wonder
great as my content
to see you here before me.
O, my soul's joy!
If after every tempest
come such calms,
may the winds blow till
they have waken'd death!
And let the labouring
bark climb hills of seas
Olympus-high and duck
again as low
as hell's from heaven!
If it were now to die,
'twere now to be most happy -
for, I fear, my soul
hath her content so absolute
that not another
comfort like to this
succeeds in unknown fate.
The heavens forbid but that our
loves and comforts should
increase, even
as our days do grow!
Amen to that, sweet powers!
I cannot speak enough
of this content -
it stops me here -
it is too much of joy.
And this...
QUIETLY: Woo!
AUDIENCE LAUGHS
..and this...
..the greatest discords
be that e'er our
hearts shall make!
O, you are well tuned now!
But I will set down the pegs
that make this music,
as honest as I am.
News, friends - our wars
are done, the Turks
are drown'd.
CHEERING
How does my old acquaintance
of this isle?
Honey, you shall be well
desired in Cyprus -
I've found great
love amongst them.
Come, Desdemona, once more,
well met at Cyprus.
It is Othello's pleasure,
our noble and valiant
general, that every man put himself
into triumph!
Some to dance, some to make
bonfires, each man to what sport
and revels his addiction leads him.
This is the celebration
of his nuptial.
Heaven bless the isle of Cyprus
and our noble general Othello!
CHEERING
Roderigo.
Ensign!
The lieutenant tonight watches
on the court of guard.
First, I must tell thee this -
Desdemona is directly
in love with him.
With him!
No, I cannot believe that in her.
She's full of most blessed
condition.
Blessed fig's-end! The wine
she drinks is made of grapes.
If she had been blessed,
she never would have loved the Moor.
Blessed pudding!
Didst thou not see her paddle with
the palm of his hand?
Didst not mark that?
Yes, that I did -
but that was but courtesy.
Lechery!
Lechery, by this hand - an index
and obscure prologue to a history
of lust and foul thoughts.
They met so near with their lips
that their breaths embraced
together.
Villainous thoughts, Roderigo!
When these mutualities
so marshal the way,
hard at hand comes the master
and main exercise,
the incorporate conclusion.
But, sir, be you ruled by me.
I have brought you from Venice.
Watch you tonight.
For the command, I'll lay it on
you. Cassio knows you not.
Do you find some occasion
to anger Cassio?
Well...
Sir, he's rash and very sudden in
choler, and haply may strike at you.
Provoke him, that he might
- for even out of that
will I cause these of Cyprus
to mutiny -
whose qualification shall come
into no true taste again
but by the displanting of Cassio.
Cassio!
And the impediment most
profitably removed,
so shall you enjoy a shorter
journey to your desires.
I will do this if I can bring it
to any opportunity.
Meet me by and by at the Citadel.
Citadel.
Go to! Farewell. Adieu.
Oi-oi!
ALL: Oi-oi!
That Cassio loves her,
I do well believe it -
that she loves him,
'tis apt and of great credit.
The Moor!
Howbeit that I endure him not?
He's of a constant, loving,
noble nature,
and I dare think he'll prove to
Desdemona a most dear husband.
Now, I do love her too -
not out of absolute lust,
though peradventure
I stand accountant
for as great a sin,
but partly led to diet my revenge,
for that I do suspect this lusty
Moor hath leap'd into my seat -
the thought whereof doth, like a
poisonous mineral, gnaw my inwards -
and nothing can or shall
content my soul
till I am even'd with him,
wife for wife,
or failing so,
yet that I put this Moor
at least into a jealousy so strong
that judgment cannot cure.
Which thing to do, if this poor
trash of Venice, whom I leash
for his quick hunting,
stand the putting on,
I'll have our Michael Cassio
on the hip,
abuse him to the
Moor in the rank garb -
for I fear Cassio
with my night-cap too -
make this Moor thank me,
love me and reward me
for making him egregiously an ass
and practising upon his peace
and quiet even to madness.
'Tis here, but yet confused.
Knavery's plain face is never
seen till used.
MUSIC PLAYS
CHEERING
ALL: Cassio! Cassio! Cassio!
Good Michael, look
you to the guard tonight.
Let's teach ourselves
that honourable stop
not to outsport discretion.
Iago hath direction what to do -
but, notwithstanding,
with my personal eye
will I look to't.
Iago is most honest.
Michael, goodnight.
Tomorrow with your earliest
let me have speech with you. Uh-huh.
Michael, goodnight.
LOW WHISTLE
Iago! Sir! We must to the watch.
Not this hour, lieutenant -
it's not yet ten o' the clock.
Look, I have a stoup of wine -
and here without are a brace
of Cyprus gallants that would
fain have a measure
to the health of black Othello.
Not tonight, good Iago.
No, I have very poor and
unhappy brains for drinking.
I could well wish courtesy
would invent some other
custom of entertainment.
Ah, they are our friends.
But one cup -
I'll drink for you.
I have drunk but one cup tonight,
and, behold, what innovation
it makes here. No, I am
unfortunate in the infirmity,
and dare not task my
weakness with any more.
What, man!
'Tis a night of revels.
The gallants desire it.
Where are they?
Here at the door -
I pray you, call them in.
I'll do't but it dislikes me.
DISTANT MUSIC
If I can fasten
but one cup upon him,
with that which he hath
drunk tonight already,
he'll be as full of
quarrel and offence
as my young mistress' dog.
WHOOPING
'Fore God, they have given
me a rouse already.
Good faith, a little one -
not past a pint,
as I am a soldier.
To the health of our general!
CHEERING
Whoa, whoa, whoa, I am for it,
lieutenant, and I'll do you...
..JUSTICE!
RHYTHMIC MUSIC
# Amai nababa
# Musandicheme
# Kana ndafa
# Nehondo
# Ndini ndakazvida
# Kufira vapenyu
# Pamwe nevamwe
# Nehondo
# Amai nababa
# Musandicheme
# Kana ndafa
# Nehondo
# Ndini ndakazvida
# Kufira vapenyu
# Pamwe nevamwe
# Nehondo
# Amai nababa
# Musandicheme... #
IAGO STRUGGLES
Hey...
Whoo!
Ah, 'fore God, an excellent song!
But...
THROUGH MIC: This is more exquisite.
# Ah
# Mr Boombastic say me fantastic
# Touch me on my back she say... #
LAUGHTER
HE BEATBOXES
MUSICIANS JOIN IN
Oh! Oh!
THEY SING
I can't hear y'all!
THEY SING
One more time!
# A soldier's a man
And man's life's but a span
# Why then let a soldier drink
# A soldier's a man
And man's life's but a span
# Why then let a soldier DRINK... #
WHOOPING
Yo, I got something.
HE RAPS: # I feel sorry for Cassio
# Deep down he's really sad
# Cos his mother is promiscuous
# So we all could be his dad. #
ALL: Oh!
Is it you, Sir?
Are you Cassio's dad?
HE RAPS: # This man became a soldier
A tough choice I'm sure
# Cos it's rare to see a black man
on the right side of law. #
ALL: Oh!
Come on, come on...
Nah, hold on.
# This guy's a lieutenant
So we'd better run
# Cos we all know what happens when
you give white people a gun. #
I didn't know!
I thought he had a weapon!
I swear!
ALL: Go! Go! Go! Go! Go! Go!
Sh! Stop!
# This guy was a superstar performer
before
# Now he's in the Cyprus war
Taking orders from a Moor. #
ALL: Oh!
How does it feel? How does it feel?
HE ROARS
Lieutenant...
AUDIENCE GIGGLE
Will you hear it again, Lieutenant?
No, no, no, no!
For I hold him unworthy of place
that says those things.
Well, God's above all - ay, there
be souls must be saved,
and there be souls must
not be saved.
You are in the right, Lieutenant.
For my part, no offence
to the general,
nor any man of quality,
I hope to be saved.
And so do I, too, good Lieutenant.
Ay, but, by your leave,
not before me -
the lieutenant's to be saved
before the ensign.
Let's have no more of this,
let's to our affairs.
Forgive us our sins!
Gentlemen, let's look
to our business.
You must not think, gentlemen,
that I am drunk - this is my
ensign, this is my left hand,
and this is my right hand. I am not
drunk now.
I can stand well enough,
and I speak well enough.
Excellent well.
Ay, very well.
You must not think then
that I am drunk.
To the platform, masters.
Come, let's set the watch.
I pray you,
after the lieutenant - go.
Montano.
You see this fellow
that's gone before?
He's a soldier fit to stand
by Caesar and give direction,
and do but see his vice.
'Tis to his virtue a just equinox,
the one as long as the other.
'Tis pity of him.
I fear the trust Othello
puts in him on some odd time
of his infirmity
will shake this island.
Is he often thus?
'Tis ever more the prologue
to his sleep.
It were well the general
were put in mind of it.
'Tis great pity
that the noble Moor
should hazard such
a place as his own second
with one of an ingraft infirmity.
It were an honest action
to say so to the Moor.
Not I, for this fair island.
I do love Cassio well -
and would do much to cure him
of this evil...
SHOUTING
Help! Help! You rogue!
Hark at this.
A knave teach me my duty!
I'll beat the knave
into a twiggen bottle.
Whoa! Whoa!
Beat me!
Dost thou prate, rogue?
Nay, good lieutenant - I pray
you, sir, hold your hand.
Let me go, sir, or I'll knock
you o'er the mazzard.
Come, come, you're drunk.
Drunk!
Away, I say - go out,
and cry a mutiny.
ALARM BLARES,
SHOUTING
Who's that which rings the bell?
Lieutenant! Lieutenant!
Lieutenant, halt!
You will be shamed forever.
Lieutenant!
ALARM AND SHOUTING CONTINUE
What is the matter here?
I bleed still -
I'm hurt to the death. He dies!
Hold, for your lives!
Gentlemen!
Have you lost all sense
of place and duty?
Hold!
The general speaks to you -
hold, hold, for shame!
He that stirs next
to carve for his own rage
holds his soul light -
he dies upon his motion.
Silence that dreadful bell!
It frights the isle
from her propriety.
ALARM STOPS
What is the matter, masters?
Have we turned Turks?
And to ourselves do that which
Heaven have forbid the Ottomites?
Honest Iago, that look'st
dead with grieving,
speak, who began this?
On thy love, I charge thee.
I do not know, my Lord.
How comes it, Michael,
you are thus forgot?
I pray you, pardon me
- I cannot speak.
GASPING
Worthy Montano,
you were wont be civil -
the gravity and stillness
of your youth
the world hath noted,
and your name is great
in mouths of wisest
censure. What's the matter,
that you unlace
your reputation thus
and spend your rich opinion
for the name
of a night-brawler?
Give me answer to it!
Worthy Othello,
I am hurt to danger -
your officer, Iago, can inform you,
while I spare speech.
Now, by heaven, if I once stir,
or do but lift this arm,
the best of
you shall sink in my rebuke.
GIVE ME TO KNOW HOW
THIS FOUL ROUT BEGAN!
Who set it on, and he that is
approved in this offence,
though he had twinn'd
with me, both at a birth,
shall lose me. What!
In a town of war, yet wild,
the people's hearts brim-full
of fear, to manage private
and domestic quarrel,
in night, and on the court
and guard of safety!
'Tis monstrous!
Iago, who began it?
If partially affined,
or leagued in office,
thou dost deliver more
or less than truth,
thou art no soldier.
Touch me not so near -
I had rather have this tongue
cut from my mouth than
it should do offence
to Michael Cassio.
And, yet, I persuade myself,
to speak the truth shall
nothing wrong him.
This it is, general.
Montano and myself being in speech,
there comes a fellow
crying out for help.
And Cassio following,
determined to execute upon him.
Sir, this gentleman
steps in to Cassio,
and entreats his pause - myself
the crying fellow did pursue,
lest by his clamour -
as it so fell out -
the town might fall in fright.
He, swift of foot,
outran my purpose -
and I return'd then
the rather for that I heard
Cassio high in oath
which till tonight
I ne'er might say before.
When I came back -
for this was brief - I found
them close together,
at blow and thrust,
even as again they were when you
yourself did part them.
More of this matter
cannot I report.
But men are men -
the best sometimes forget.
Though Cassio did some
little wrong to him,
as men in rage strike those
that wish them best,
yet, surely, Cassio,
I believe, received
from him that fled
some strange indignity,
which patience could not pass.
I know, Iago, thy honesty
and love doth mince this matter,
making it light to Cassio.
Cassio, I love thee
but never more be officer of mine.
Look, if my gentle love
be not raised up!
I'll make thee an example.
What's the matter, dear?
All's well now, sweeting,
come away to bed.
Iago, look with care
about the town,
and silence those whom this
vile brawl distracted.
Sir, for your hurts,
myself will be your surgeon.
Come, Desdemona. Quickly!
It is the soldier's life
to have their balmy slumbers
waked with strife.
What's all this? What's all this?
Get a move on!
Here, here, here, here,
here, come on!
Oh, God! Oh, God!
What... Oh, God! What, are you hurt,
Lieutenant?
Ay, past all surgery.
Marry, heaven forbid!
Reputation.
Reputation, reputation!
O, I have lost my reputation!
I have lost the immortal part of
myself,
and what remains is bestial.
My reputation, Iago, my reputation!
As I am an honest man,
I thought you had received
some bodily wound.
There is more sense in that
than in reputation.
Reputation is an idle and most false
imposition, oft got without merit,
and lost without deserving.
You have lost no reputation
at all, unless you repute
yourself such a loser.
What, man!
There are more ways to recover
the general again.
You are but now cast
in his mood, a punishment
more in policy than in malice.
Even so as one would beat
his offenceless dog to affright
an imperious lion,
sue to him again, and he's yours.
I will rather sue to be despised
than to deceive
so good a commander
with so slight, so drunken,
and so indiscreet an officer.
Drunk?
And speak parrot?
And squabble?
Swagger?
Swear?
And discourse fustian
with one's own shadow?
O, thou invisible spirit of wine,
if thou hast no name
to be known by,
let us call thee devil!
What was he that you followed?
What had he done to you?
I know not.
Is't possible?
I remember a mass of things,
but nothing distinctly -
a quarrel, but nothing wherefore.
O, God, that men should put
an enemy in their mouths
to steal away their brains!
That we should, with joy, pleasance
revel and applause transform
ourselves into beasts!
Why, but you are now well
enough.
How came you thus recovered?
It hath pleased the devil
drunkenness to give place
to the devil wrath.
Ay, one unperfectness
shows me another,
to make me frankly despise myself.
Come, you are too severe a moraler.
As the time, place and condition
of this country stands,
I could heartily wish
this had not befallen.
But, since it is as it is,
mend it for your own good.
I will ask him for my place again,
he shall tell me I'm a drunkard!
Had I as many mouths as Hydra,
such an answer would stop them all.
To be now a sensible man,
by and by a fool,
and presently a beast.
Oh, strange!
Ay, every inordinate
cup is unblessed
and the ingredient is a devil.
Come, good wine is a good familiar
creature if it be well used.
Exclaim no more against it.
And, good lieutenant,
I think you think I love you.
Well, I well approved it, sir.
I drunk.
You or any man living
may be drunk at a time, man.
I tell you what you shall do. What?
Our general's wife
is now...the general.
I may say so in this respect,
for that he hath given up
and devoted himself
to the contemplation, mark
and denotement of her
parts and graces. So?
Confess yourself freely to her.
Importune her help to put you
in your place again.
She is of so free, so kind,
so apt, so...
..blessed a disposition!
She holds it a vice in her goodness
not to do more than she's requested.
This broken joint between you and
her husband entreat her to splinter.
And my fortunes against
any lay worth naming,
this crack of your love shall grow
stronger than it was before.
You advise me well.
I protest, in the sincerity
of love and honest kindness.
I think it freely.
And betimes, in the morning,
I will beseech the virtuous
Desdemona to undertake for me.
I am desperate of my fortunes
if they check me here.
You are in the right.
Ay.
Goodnight, good lieutenant.
I must to the watch.
Goodnight...
..honest Iago, sir.
IAGO SINGS TO HIMSELF
# Let me the canakin
# Clink, clink
# Oh, let me the canakin
# Clink
# Let me the canakin
# Clink, clink...
AUDIENCE LAUGH
# Oh, let me the canakin, clink
# Let me the canakin
# Clink, clink
# Oh, let me the canakin, clink!
# A soldier's a man
A man's life's but a span
# Why then let a soldier drink
Woohoo!
# A soldier's a man
# A man's life's but a span
# Why then let a soldier drink. #
AUDIENCE LAUGH
What?
AUDIENCE LAUGH
What?
AUDIENCE LAUGH
And?
What's he then that says
I play the villain
when this advice is free I give.
And honest.
Probal to thinking, and indeed,
the course to win the Moor again.
For 'tis most easy
the inclining Desdemona
to subdue in any honest suit.
She's framed as fruitful
as the free elements.
And, then, for her to win this Moor,
were it to renounce his baptism, all
seals and symbols of redeemed sins.
His soul is so...
..enfettered to her love
that she may make,
unmake, do what she list,
even as her appetite shall play
the god with his weak function.
How am I then a villain to counsel
Cassio to this parallel course,
directly to his good?
INNOCENTLY: Hm?
AUDIENCE LAUGH
HE CHUCKLES DRYLY
Divinity of hell.
When...devils will
the blackest sins put on,
they do suggest at first,
with heavenly shows,
as I do now.
For, whiles this honest fool plies
Desdemona to repair his fortunes,
and she for him pleads
strongly to the Moor...
..I'll pour this...
..pestilence in his ear.
That she repeals him
for her body's lust.
And by how much she strives
to do him good,
she shall undo her credit
with the Moor.
So shall I turn her
virtue into pitch.
And even out of her own goodness...
..make the net that
shall enmesh them all.
How now, Roderigo!
I do follow here in the chase!
Not like a hound that hunts,
but one that fills up the cry!
My money is almost spent.
I have tonight been
exceedingly well cudgelled,
and I think the issue will be
I shall have so much experience
for my pains. And, so,
with no money at all...
Oh, and a little more wit.
..return again to Venice.
How poor are they that
have not patience!
What wound did ever heal
but by degrees?
Thou know'st we work by wit,
and not by witchcraft.
Huh? And wit depends on...?
Money? Dilatory time!
Does't not go well?
Cassio hath beaten thee.
And thou, by that
small hurt, hath...
..cashier'd Cassio!
THEY CHUCKLE
Boom!
Though other things grow
fair against the sun,
yet fruits that blossom
first will first be ripe.
Content thyself a while.
CALLS TO PRAYER START UP
Oh.
By the mass, 'tis morning.
Pleasure and action make
the hours seem short.
Retire thee, go where
thou art billeted. Erm...
Now, away, I say.
Thou shalt know more hereafter.
But, Iago... Get thee gone!
Two things are to be done.
My wife must move
for Cassio to her mistress.
I'll set her on.
Myself the while to draw
this Moor apart,
and bring him jump where
he may Cassio find...
..soliciting his wife.
Ay, that's the way!
Dull not device by coldness and...
..delay.
TERRIFIED SCREAMING
MAN WAILS AND WHIMPERS
MAN GRUNTS AND GROANS
MAN YELPS
MAN COUGHS AND SPLUTTERS
SCREAMING AND WHIMPERING
DRILL WHIRS
TERRIFIED WHIMPERING
DESPERATE YELLING
PAINED SCREAMS
DRILL WHIRRING STOPS
MAN WHIMPERS WEAKLY
Be thou assured, good Cassio,
I will do all my abilities
in thy behalf.
Good madam, do. I warrant it grieves
my husband as if the cause were his.
Oh, that's an honest fellow.
Do no doubt, Cassio, but I will have
my lord and you again
as friendly as you were.
Bounteous madam, whatever
shall become of Michael Cassio,
he's never anything
but your true servant.
I know it. I thank you.
You do love my lord.
You have known him long. And be you
well assured he shall in strangeness
stand no further off
than in a politic distance.
Ay, but lady, that policy
may either last so long.
Or feed upon such nice
and waterish diet.
Or breed itself so out
of circumstance that,
I being absent
and my place supplied,
my general will forget my love
and service. Do not doubt that.
Before Emilia here, I give
thee warrant of thy place.
Assure thee,
if I do vow a friendship,
I'll perform it to the last article.
My lord shall never rest.
I'll watch him tame and
talk him out of patience.
His bed shall seem a school.
His board a shrift.
I'll intermingle everything
he does with Cassio's suit.
Therefore, be merry, Cassio.
For thy solicitor shall rather die
than give thy cause away.
Madam, here comes my lord.
Madam, I'll take my leave.
Why, stay, and hear me speak!
Not now, madam.
I am very ill at ease.
Unfit for mine own purposes.
Well, do your discretion.
IAGO: Oh, I like not that!
What dost thou say, Iago?
Eh? Ah, nothing, my lord.
Or if... I know not what.
Was not that Cassio
parted from my wife?
Cassio, my lord? No, sure, I cannot
think it that he would steal away
so guilty-like seeing your coming.
I do believe 'twas he.
How now, my lord?
I have been talking
with a suitor here.
A man that languishes in your
displeasure. Who is't you mean?
Why, your lieutenant, Cassio.
Good my lord, if I have
any grace or power to move you,
his present reconciliation take.
For if he be not one
that truly loves you,
that errs in ignorance
and not in cunning,
I have no judgment
in an honest face.
I prithee, call him back!
Went he hence now? Yes, faith.
So humbled that he left
a part of his grief with me
to suffer with him.
Good love, call him back.
Not now, sweet Desdemona.
Some other time.
But shall it be shortly?
The sooner, sweet, for you.
Shall it be tonight at supper?
No, not tonight.
Tomorrow dinner, then?
I shall not dine at home.
I meet the captains at the citadel.
Why, then, tomorrow night?
On Tuesday morn?
On Tuesday noon?
Or night?
On Wednesday morn?
I prithee, name the time,
but let it not exceed three days.
In faith, he's penitent.
When shall he come?
Tell me. I...
Othello, I wonder in my soul
what you would ask me
that I should deny or stand so...
..mammering on. What?!
Michael Cassio,
that came a-wooing with you,
and who so many a time when I have
spoke of you dispraisingly
have ta'en your part. To have
so much to do to bring him in.
By Our Lady, I could do much...!
Prithee, no more.
Let him come when he will.
I will deny thee nothing.
Why, this is not a boon.
'Tis as I should entreat
you wear your gloves.
Or feed on nourishing dishes,
or keep you warm.
Or sued you to do a peculiar
profit to your own person.
No, when I have a suit wherein
I mean to touch your love indeed,
it shall be full of poise
and difficult weight,
and fearful to be granted.
IAGO: Ahem, my lord.
I will deny thee nothing.
Whereon, I do beseech thee,
grant me this... Mm?
..to leave me but a little
to myself. Shall I deny you?
No. Farewell, my lord.
Farewell, my Desdemona.
I'll come to thee straight.
Emilia, come. Be as your
fancies teach you.
Whate'er you be...
..I am obedient. Ha!
Excellent wretch.
Perdition catch my soul,
but I do love thee.
And when I love thee not...
..chaos is come again.
LOUD BANG
My noble lord?
What dost thou say, Iago?
Did Michael Cassio,
when you wooed my lady,
know of your love?
He did, from first to last.
Why dost thou ask?
But for a satisfaction
of my thought. No further harm.
Why of thy thought, Iago?
I did not think he had been
acquainted with her. Oh?
Yes, and went between us very oft.
Indeed!
Indeed! Ay, indeed.
Discern'st thou aught in that?
Is he not honest?
Honest, my lord?
Honest. Ay, honest.
My lord, for aught I know.
But what dost thou think?
Think, my lord?
"Think, my lord!"
By heaven, he echoes me.
As if there were some monster in his
thought too hideous to be shown.
Thou dost mean something.
For when I told thee he was of
my counsel in my whole course
of wooing, thou criedst, "Indeed!"
And didst contract and purse
thy brow together
as if thou then had shut up in
thy brain some horrible conceit.
If thou dost love me,
show me thy thought.
My lord, you know I love you.
I THINK thou dost.
For Michael Cassio, I dare be sworn,
I think that he is honest.
I think so, too.
Men should be what they seem.
Or, those that be not,
would they might seem none.
Certain, men should be what
they seem.
Why, then, I think
Cassio's an honest man.
Nay. Yet there's more in this.
I prithee, speak to me as to thy
thinkings, as thou dost ruminate.
And give thy worst of thoughts
the worst of words.
Good, my lord, pardon me.
Though I am bound to
every act of duty,
I am not bound to that
all slaves are free to.
Utter my thoughts? Why, say
they are vile and false,
as where's that palace whereinto
foul things sometimes intrude not?
Thou dost conspire
against thy friend, Iago,
if thou but think'st him wronged
and makes his ear a stranger
to thy thoughts.
I am to beseech you, though,
I perchance am vicious in my guess.
As I confess, it is my nature's
plague to spy into abuses.
And, oft, my jealousy shapes
fault that are not.
That your wisdom, then, from one
that's so imperfectly conjects
would take no notice,
nor build yourself a trouble
out of his scattering
and unsure observance.
It were not for your quiet,
nor your good, nor for my manhood,
honesty and wisdom to
let you know my thoughts.
What dost thou mean?
Good name in a man and woman,
dear, my lord,
is the immediate jewel
of their souls.
Who steals my purse steals trash.
'Tis something, nothing.
'Twas mine, 'tis his,
and has been slave to thousands.
But he that filches
from me my good name
robs me of that which not enriches
him and makes me poor indeed.
By heaven, I'll know thy thoughts!
You cannot if my heart
were in your hands.
Nor shall not whilst
'tis in my custody. Huh?
Oh, beware, my lord, of jealousy.
It is the green-eyed monster which
doth mock the meat it feeds on.
That cuckold lives in bliss
who, certain of his fate,
loves not his wronger.
But, oh, what damned minutes
tells he o'er who dotes,
yet doubts, suspects,
yet soundly loves.
Oh, misery.
Poor and content
is rich and rich enough.
But riches fineless
is as poor as winter
to him that ever fears
he shall be poor.
Good God, the souls of all my
tribe defend from jealousy.
Why?
Why is this?
Think'st thou I'd make
a life of jealousy?
To follow still the changes
of the moon with fresh suspicion?
No. To be once in doubt
is to be resolved.
Exchange me for a goat when I shall
turn the business of my soul
to such exsufflicate and blown
surmises matching thy inference.
'Tis not to make me jealous to
say my wife is fair, feeds well,
loves company, is free of speech,
sings, plays and dances well.
Where virtue is,
these are more virtuous.
Nor from my own weak merits
will I draw the smallest fear
or doubt of her revolt,
for she had eyes and chose me.
No, Iago.
I'll see before I doubt.
When I doubt, prove.
And on the proof,
there is no more but this.
Away at once with love...
..or jealousy.
I am glad of this.
For now I shall have reason
to show the love and duty
that I bear you
with franker spirit.
Therefore, as I am bound,
receive it from me.
I speak not yet of proof.
Look to your wife.
Observe her well with Cassio.
Wear your eyes thus,
not jealous nor secure.
I would not have your
free and noble nature,
out of self-bounty, be abused.
Look to it.
I know our country disposition well.
In Venice... Ha!
..they do let God see the pranks
they dare not show their husbands.
Their best conscience
was not to leave't undone,
but keep't unknown.
Dost thou say so?
She did deceive her father,
marrying you.
And when she seemed to shake
and fear your looks...
Woohoo! ..she loved them most.
And so she did. Why, go to, then!
She that, so young, could give out
such a seeming to seal up
her father's eyes close as oak.
He thought 'twas witchcraft!
But I am much to blame.
I humbly do beseech you of your
pardon for too much loving you.
I am bound to thee forever.
I see this hath a little
dashed your spirits.
Not a jot.
Not a jot!
Ay, 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 should fall into
such vile success
which my thoughts aimed not.
But I do see you are moved.
No! Not much moved. I do not think
but Desdemona's honest.
And long live she so!
And long live you to think so.
OTHELLO CHUCKLES
And, yet, how nature erring
from itself...
Ay, but that's the point!
As...
HE EXHALES
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...
Hah!
..one may smell in such
a will most rank,
foul disproportions,
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 fail to match you with her
country forms and happily repent.
Farewell.
FAREWELL!
Sir.
If more thou dost perceive,
let me know more. Sir.
Set on thy wife to observe.
Leave me, Iago.
My lord, I would
I might entreat your honour
to scan this thing no further.
Leave it to time.
Though 'tis fit
that Cassio have his place.
For sure,
he fills it up with great ability.
Yet, if you please
to put 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.
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 honour.
Fear not my government.
I once more take my leave. Sir.
IAGO'S FOOTSTEPS FADE
This fellow's of exceeding honesty.
AUDIENCE CHUCKLES LIGHTLY
And knows all qualities,
with a learned spirit
of human dealings.
If I do prove her haggard,
and 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.
Uh-huh.
Hm, hm, hm, hm, hm.
HE CHUCKLES
She's gone. I am abused,
and my relief...
HE EXHALES
..must be to loathe her?
HE SCOFFS
O, curse of marriage,
that we can call these delicate
creatures ours,
and not their appetites.
I'd rather be a toad!
And live upon
the vapour of a dungeon
than keep a corner in the thing
I love
for other's uses.
FOOTSTEPS APPROACH
Desdemona comes.
If she be false,
then heaven mocks itself!
I'll not believe it.
How now, my dear Othello!
Your dinner, and the generous
islanders by you invited,
do attend your presence.
Ah, I am to blame. Why do you speak
so faintly? Are you not well?
I have a pain upon my forehead here.
'Faith, that's with watching,
'twill away again.
Let me but bind it,
hard.
Within this hour,
it will be well.
SHE LAUGHS
Come, I'll go in with you.
I am very sorry
that you're 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 the work taken out,
and give it Iago.
What he will do with it,
heaven knows, not I.
I nothing but to please his fantasy.
How now! What do you here alone?
Do not you chide,
I have a thing for you.
You have a thing for me?
AUDIENCE CHUCKLES
It is a common thing... Ha?
..to have a foolish wife.
O, is that all? What will you give
me now for the 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.
And, to the advantage, I, being
here, took it up.
Look, here it is.
AUDIENCE LAUGHS
Cor! Cor!
'Tis a good wench!
Come on, give it me.
What will you do with it,
that you've been
so earnest to have me filch it?
Why, what's that to you?
If it be not for some
purpose of import, give it me again!
Poor lady, she will run mad
when she shall lack it!
SHE GROANS
Be not acknown on 't.
I have a use for it.
Go, leave me.
HE GRUNTS
LOUD BANGING
HE SNIFFS
I will in Cassio's lodgings lose
this napkin,
and let him find it.
Trifles light as air
are to the jealous
confirmations as strong
as proof of holy writ.
This may do something.
Let's see, where he comes.
Not poppy, nor mandragora,
nor all the drowsy syrups
of the WORLD
shall ever medicine thee to that
sweet sleep thou owedst yesterday!
Ha! Ha! False to me?
How now, general! No more of that!
IAGO GROANS
Villain, be sure thou prove
my love a whore!
IAGO WHIMPERS
Be sure of it!
Give me the ocular proof.
Or by the worth
of my eternal soul...
IAGO GROANS
..thou hadst been better
have been born a dog
than answer my waked wrath!
MAKE ME TO SEE...IT!
Argh!
Or, at the least, so prove it,
that the probation bear no hinge
nor loop to hang a doubt on...
..or woe upon thy life!
My noble lord, it's come to this?
If thou dost slander her
and torture me,
never pray more.
Abandon all remorse!
On horror's head horrors accumulate.
IAGO GAGS
Do deeds to make heaven weep...
Argh! Argh!
..all Earth amazed. For nothing
canst thou to damnation add
greater than that!
O, grace! O, heaven!
Are you a man?
Have you a soul or sense?
Thou has sent me on the rack!
I think my wife be honest
and think she is not.
I think that thou are
just and think thou art not.
How now, my lord!
I found not Cassio's
kisses on her lips.
O! Ah!
I'll have some proof.
IAGO GROANS
Her name,
that was as fresh as Dian's visage,
is now begrimed
and black as thine own face!
OTHELLO YELLS
If there be knives, or cords,
or poison, or suffocating streams...
..I'll not endure it.
OTHELLO GRUNT
There!
Would I were satisfied.
IAGO SPLUTTERS
O! You would be satisfied? Would.
Nay, and I will!
IAGO WHIMPERS
How satisfied, my lord?
Would you, the supervisor,
grossly gape on,
behold her topped?
Death and damnation! It were
a tedious difficulty, I think,
to bring them to that prospect.
Damn them, then,
if ever mortal eyes do see them
bolster more than their own!
What then? How then?
What shall I say?
It is impossible you
should see this,
were they as prime as goats,
as hot as monkeys,
as salt as wolves in pride,
and fools as gross as ignorance
made drunk.
BUT YET, I say, if imputation
and strong circumstances,
which lead directly
to the door of truth,
will give you satisfaction,
you might have it.
Give me a living reason
she's disloyal!
I do not like the office,
but, sith, I am enter'd into
the cause so far,
pricked to it by
foolish honesty and love,
I will go on.
HE SPLUTTERS
I lay with Cassio lately,
and, being troubled with a raging
tooth, I could not sleep.
There are a kind of men
so loose of souls
that in their sleeps
will mutter their affairs.
One of this kind is Cassio.
In sleep, I heard him say,
"Sweet Desdemona, let us be wary,
"let us hide our loves!"
And, then, sir, would he gripe
and wring my hand,
cry, "O, sweet creature!"
Then kiss me hard,
as if he plucked up kisses
by the roots
that grew upon my lips,
then lay his leg
over my thigh, and kiss and sigh,
and then cry, "Cursed fate
that gave thee to the Moor!"
Nay, this was but his dream!
But it denoted
a foregone conclusion,
and it may help to thicken other
proofs that do demonstrate thinly.
Tell me but this, have you
not sometimes seen a...handkerchief
spotted with strawberries
in your wife's hand?
I gave her such a one,
'twas my first gift.
I know not that,
but such a handkerchief,
I am sure it was your wife's,
did I today see Cassio
wipe his beard with.
If it be that...
If it be that, or any that was hers,
it speaks against her
with the other proofs.
Cassio.
Cassio. Cassi...
HE SOBS
O!
TOOLS CLATTER
O, that that slave
had 40,000 lives!
One is too poor...
..too weak for my revenge.
Cassio!
HE SOBS
Cassio!
O, blood, blood, blood!
BLOOD!
No, arise, black vengeance,
from thy hollow cell.
Yield up, oh, Love,
thy crown and hearted throne
to tyrannous hate!
Swell, bosom, with thy fraught,
for 'tis of aspics' tongues!
Patience, your mind yet may change!
Never, Iago!
Like to the Pontic Sea,
whose icy current and compulsive
course ne'er feels retiring ebb,
but keeps due on to the Propontic
and the Hellespont,
even so my bloody thoughts,
with violent pace,
shall ne'er look back,
ne'er ebb to humble love
till that a capable
and wide revenge swallow them up!
Now, by yond marble heaven,
in the due reverence
of a sacred vow...
..I here engage my words.
Do not rise yet.
Witness,
you ever-burning lights above,
you elements
that clip us round about,
witness that here Iago doth give up
the execution of his wit,
hands, heart,
to wrong'd Othello's service!
Let him command,
and to obey shall be in me remorse,
what bloody business ever.
I greet thy love,
not with vain thanks,
but with acceptance bounteous,
and will upon
the instant put thee to it.
Within these three days,
let me hear thee say...
..that Cassio's not alive!
My friend is dead,
'tis done at your command!
But let her live.
O, damn her, lewd minx!
Damn her.
Damn her!
HE GRUNTS
Farewell forever, the tranquil mind!
Farewell, content!
Farewell, the plumed troops
and the big wars
that make ambition virtue.
O, farewell!
Farewell, the royal banner
and all quality, pride, pomp
and circumstance of glorious war!
Farewell!
Othello's occupation's gone!
Now art thou my lieutenant.
I am your own...
..FOREVER!
FLUTE PLAYS
GUITAR, BASS AND DRUM PLAY
Where should I lose that
handkerchief, Emilia?
I know not, madam.
Believe me, I had rather have
lost my purse full of crusados.
And, but my noble Moor is true
of mind and made of no such baseness
as jealous creatures are, it were
enough to put him to ill thinking.
Is he not jealous?
Who, he?
I think the sun where he was born
drew all such humours from him.
Look, where he comes.
I will not leave him
now till Cassio be called to him.
How is't with you, my lord?
Well, my good lady.
How do you, Desdemona?
Well, my good lord!
AUDIENCE LAUGHS
Give me your hand.
HE SIGHS
This hand is moist, my lady.
It yet hath felt no age... Ah-ha!
..nor known no sorrow.
This argues fruitfulness
and liberal heart! Hot.
Hot, and moist.
This hand of yours requires
a sequester from liberty,
fasting and prayer,
much castigation, exercise devout,
for there's a young
and sweating devil here
that commonly rebels.
SHE GASPS
'Tis a good hand, a frank one.
You may indeed say so.
For 'twas that hand
that gave away my heart.
Ah! A liberal hand.
I cannot speak of this.
Come now, your promise.
What promise, chuck?
I have sent to bid Cassio
come speak with you.
Ah! I have a salt and sorry
rheum offends me.
Lend me thy handkerchief.
Here, my lord.
That which I gave you?
I have it not about me.
Not? No, indeed, my lord.
That is a...fault!
That handkerchief...
..did an Egyptian to my mother give.
She was a charmer, and could almost
read the thoughts of people.
She told her, while she kept it,
'twould make her amiable and subdue
my father entirely to her love,
but if she lost it, or made
a gift of it, my father's eye
should hold her loathed and his
spirits should hunt
after new fancies.
She, dying, gave it me,
and bid me,
when my fate would have me wived,
to give it her.
I did so.
And take heed on't, make it
a darling like your precious eye.
To lose it or give it away
were such perdition
as nothing else could match.
Is't possible?
'Tis true!
There's magic in the web of it!
A sibyl, that had number'd
in the world the sun to course
200 compasses in her prophetic fury,
sewed the work.
The worms were hallow'd
that did breed the silk,
and it was dyed in mummy
which the skilful conserved of
maidens' hearts.
Indeed! Is't true?
Most veritable,
therefore look to it well.
Then would to God
that I'd never seen't!
O! O! WHEREFORE?
Why do you speak
so startingly and rash?
Is it lost? Is it gone?
Speak, is it out of the way?
Heaven bless us! Say you? It is not
lost, but what and if it were?
How! I say it is not lost.
Fetch it, let me see it.
Why, so I can, sir,
but I will not now.
This is a trick to put me
from my suit!
Pray you,
let Cassio be received again.
Fetch me the handkerchief.
My mind misgives.
Come, come, you'll never meet
a more sufficient man.
The handkerchief!
I pray, talk me of Cassio.
The handkerchief!
A man that all his time hath founded
his good fortunes on your love,
shared dangers with you!
THE HANDKERCHIEF!
In faith, you are to blame.
HE SCOFFS
WHISPERS: By God's wounds!
Is not this man jealous?
I ne'er saw this before.
Sure, there's some wonder
in this handkerchief.
I am most unhappy in the loss of it.
'Tis not a year or two
shows us a man.
They're all but stomachs,
and we all but food.
They eat us hungerly, and,
when they are full, they belch us.
Look you, Cassio and my husband!
There is no other way,
it is she must do it.
And, lo, the happiness!
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... Emilia!
..may again exist,
and be a member of his love
whom I with all the office
of my heart entirely honour.
I would not be delay'd.
If my offence be of such mortal kind
that nor my service past,
nor present sorrows, nor... Two.
AUDIENCE LAUGHS
..nor purposed merit in futurity,
can ransom me into his love again,
but to know so must be my benefit.
So shall I clothe me
in a forced content,
and shut myself up in some other
course, to fortune's alms.
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 favour
as in humour alter'd.
So help me every spirit sanctified,
as I have spoken for you all my best
and stood within the blank
of his displeasure
for my free speech,
you must awhile be patient. Patient?
All I can do, I will!
And more I will than for myself,
I dare, let that suffice you.
Is my lord angry?
He went hence but now, and certainly
in strange unquietness.
And 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 can he be angry?
Something of moment, then.
I'll go meet him.
There's matter in't indeed,
if he be angry.
I prithee, do so.
Something, sure, of state,
either from Venice,
or some unhatch'd practice made
demonstrable to him
here in Cyprus 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 indues
our other healthful members
even to a sense of pain.
Nay, we must think men are not gods,
nor of them look for such observancy
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 suborn'd 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
answer'd so.
They are not ever
jealous for the cause,
but jealous for they are jealous.
It is a monster...
DESDEMONA SCOFFS
..begot upon itself, born on itself.
Heaven keep that monster
from Othello's mind!
Lady, amen.
I will go seek him.
Cassio, walk you hereabout.
If I do find him fit,
I'll move your suit
and seek to effect it
to my uttermost.
I humbly thank your ladyship.
FOOTSTEPS
HE SIGHS
Ah!
Ha-ha! Save you, friend Cassio!
What makes you from home?
How is't with you,
my most fair Bianca?
In faith, sweet love,
I was coming to your house.
And I was going to your lodging,
Cassio.
Ha! What, keep a week away?
Seven days and nights?
Eight-score-eight hours?
And lovers' absent hours
more tedious than the dial
eight-score times.
O, weary reckoning!
AUDIENCE LAUGHS
Pardon me, Bianca, I have this while
with leaden thoughts been press'd,
but I shall,
in a more continuate time,
strike off this score of absence.
Sweet Bianca,
take me this work out.
O, Cassio! Uh-huh!
Whence came this?
This is some token
from a newer friend.
To the felt absence now
I feel a cause.
Is't come to this? Well, well!
Go to, woman! Throw your vile
guesses in the devil's teeth,
from whence you have them!
HE SIGHS
You are jealous now that this is
from some mistress, huh?
Some remembrance?
No, by my faith, Bianca...
Why, whose is it? I know not,
I found it in my chamber.
SHE SCOFFS
I like the work well.
Ere it be demanded,
as like enough it will,
I would have it copied.
Take it, do it... Mm!
..and leave me for this time!
Leave you? Wherefore?
I do attend here on the general,
and think it no addition,
nor my wish, to have him
see me woman'd!
Why, I pray you?
Not that I love you not.
But that you do not love me?
I pray you,
bring me on the way a little,
and say if I shall see you
soon at night.
'Tis but a little way that I can
bring you for I do attend here!
But I will see you soon.
It's very good!
I must be circumstanced!
OTHELLO: Will you think so?
Think so, Iago!
What, to kiss in private,
an unauthorised kiss,
or be naked an hour or more
with her friend in bed,
not meaning any harm?
Naked in bed, Iago,
not meaning any 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 it on any man.
She is protectress of her honour,
too. May she give THAT?
Her honour is an essence
that's not seen.
They have it very oft that
have it not.
But, for the handkerchief...
OTHELLO SCOFFS
By heaven, I would most gladly
have forgot it.
Huh!
Thou saidst, 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'd 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, that's fulsome!
A handkerchief!
Confess, eh? Handkerchief!
First to be hanged and then conf...
First to confess, and then be hanged
for his labour. Eh?
Ah!
Ha!
I tremble at it.
Huh?
Ha.
Nature would not invest herself
in such shadowing passion
without some instruction.
My lord...
It is not words that shakes me thus.
My lord...
OTHELLO MOANS
Ah!
OTHELLO GRUNTS
Confess!
O! Devil!
Work on.
My medicine works!
And thus credulous fools are caught,
and many a worthy and chaste dame
even thus,
all guiltless, meet reproach!
What, ho, my lord!
My lord, I say! Othello!
How now, Cassio!
What's the matter?
My lord is fall'n into an epilepsy.
This is his second fit,
he had one yesterday.
No! Forbear!
The lethargy must have its quiet
course!
Iago! If not, he foams at the mouth
and by-and-by
breaks out to savage madness!
Look, he stirs!
Do you withdraw yourself
a little while.
He will recover straight.
When he is gone, I would on great
occasion speak with you.
OTHELLO GROANS
How do you now, general?
Have you not hurt your head?
HE GROANS
Did he confess it?
Good sir, be a man!
Think every bearded fellow that's
but yoked may draw with you.
Stand you a while apart,
but in a patient list.
Whilst you were here,
o'erwhelmed with your grief -
a passion most unsuiting such
a man - Cassio came hither.
I shifted him away and laid good
'scuse upon your ecstasy,
bade him anon return and here speak
with me, the which he promised.
Do but encave yourself
and mark the fleers,
the gibes and notable scorns that
dwell in every region of his face.
For I will make him tell the tale
anew - where, how, how oft,
when he hath, and is again
to cope your wife.
I say, but mark his gesture!
Marry, patience,
or I shall say you are all in all
in spleen and nothing of a man.
DOST THOU HEAR, IAGO?!
HEY!
I will be found most cunning
in my patience, but -
dost thou hear? - most bloody.
That's not amiss,
but yet keep time in all.
Will you withdraw? Oh!
Oh!
Now will I question
Cassio of Bianca,
a housewife that by
selling her desires
buys herself bread and clothes.
It is a creature
that dotes on Cassio,
as 'tis the strumpet's plague
to beguile many,
but be beguiled by one.
He, when he hears of her, cannot
refrain from the excess of laughter.
But see when he comes,
as he shall smile,
Othello shall go mad.
How do you now, lieutenant?
The worser that you give me the
addition whose want even kills me.
Ply Desdemona well,
and you are sure on't.
Now, if this suit
lay in Bianca's power,
how quickly should you speed!
Alas, poor caitiff!
I never knew woman love man so.
Alas, poor rogue! I think
i' faith she loves me.
Do you hear, Cassio? She gives it
out that you shall marry her.
Do you intend it?
HE LAUGHS
I marry her!
What?!
A customer! Prithee,
bear some charity to my wit.
Do not think it so unwholesome.
Faith, the cry goes that you
shall marry her.
Now, prithee, say true.
I am a very villain else.
This is the monkey's own
giving out.
She is persuaded
I will marry her out of her own love
and flattery, not out of my promise.
She was here even now. Even now.
She haunts me in every place.
I was the other day talking on
the sea-bank with certain Venetians
and thither comes the bauble
and, by this hand,
falls me thus about my neck.
So hangs and lolls
and weeps upon me,
so shakes and pulls me.
Well, I must leave her company.
WOMAN SHRIEKS
Oh. Before me! Look where she comes.
What do you mean by this
haunting of me?
Let the devil and his dam haunt you!
What did you mean by that same
handkerchief you gave me even now?
I was a fine fool to take it.
I must take out the work?
A likely piece of work that you
should find it in your chamber
and know not who left it there!
This is some minx's token
and I must take out the work?
There, give it your hobbyhorse,
wheresoever you had it,
I'll take out no work on't.
How now, sweet Bianca.
How now, how...
If you'll come to supper tonight...
..you may.
If you will not, come
when you are next prepared for.
Agh! After her, after her!
Faith, I must, she'll rail
in the streets else.
Will you sup there?
Faith, I intend to.
Well, I may chance to see you, for
I would very fain speak with you.
O, prithee, come, will you?
Go to, say no more.
How shall I murder him, Iago?
Did you perceive how
he laughed at his vice?
O, Iago.
And did you see the handkerchief?
Was that mine? Yours by this hand.
Now, do I see it is true.
Look here, Iago, all my fond love
first do I blow to heaven.
'Tis gone. And to see how he prizes
the foolish woman, your wife!
She gave it him
and he hath given it his whore.
I would have him nine years
a-killing.
A fine woman.
A fair woman.
A sweet woman.
Nay, you must forget that.
Let her rot and perish and be damned
tonight, for she shall not live.
No, my heart is turned to stone.
I strike it and it hurts my hand.
HE GROANS
The world hath not
a sweeter creature.
O, she might lie by an emperor's
side and command him tasks.
Nay, that's not your way.
Hang her!
I do but say what she is.
O!
She will sing the savageness
out of a bear...
..of so high and plenteous wit
and invention.
She is the worse for all this.
A thousand, thousand times,
but, then, of so gentle a condition.
Ay! Too gentle.
Nay, that's certain.
Yet the pity of it, Iago.
Agh!
O, Iago...
The pity of it, Iago.
If you are so fond over her
iniquity,
give her patent to offend.
For, if it touch not you,
it comes near nobody.
I will chop her into messes.
Cuckold me?!
O, 'tis the foul in her.
With mine officer!
That's fouler.
Get me some poison, Iago -
this night, Iago.
I'll not expostulate with her,
lest her body and beauty
unprovide my mind again.
This night, Iago.
Do it not with poison.
Strangle her in her bed.
Even the bed she hath contaminated.
HE MUMBLES
Agh!
Good.
Agh. Good.
The justice of it pleases.
Very good.
And, for Cassio,
let me be his undertaker.
You shall hear more by midnight.
Excellent good.
What is that same?
I warrant, something from Venice.
'Tis Lodovico.
This comes from the Duke.
And, see, your wife is with him.
God save you, worthy the general.
With all my heart, sir.
The Duke and Senators
of Venice greet you.
I kiss the instrument
of their pleasures.
And what's the news,
good cousin Lodovico?
IAGO: I am very glad to see you,
signior. You are welcome to Cyprus.
I thank you.
How does Lieutenant Cassio?
Lives, sir.
Cousin, there's fallen between him
and my lord an unkind breach.
But you shall make all well.
Are you sure of that? My lord?
This fail you not to do,
as you will.
He did not call.
He's busy in the paper.
Is there division
'twixt my lord and Cassio?
A most unhappy one.
I would do much to atone them,
for the love I bear to Cassio.
Fire and brimstone! My lord?
Are you wise? What, is he angry?
Maybe the letter moved him.
For, as I think,
they do command him home,
deputing Cassio in his government.
By my trust I am glad on't.
Indeed. My lord?
I am glad to see you mad.
Why, sweet Othello.
Devil!
SHE SOBS
I have not deserved this.
My lord, this would not be
believed in Venice,
though I should swear I saw't.
'Tis very much.
Make her amends, she weeps.
Oh, devil.
Devil.
If that the Earth could teem
with woman's tears,
each drop she falls would
prove a crocodile.
Out of my sight!
I will not stay to offend you.
Truly an obedient lady. I do beseech
your lordship, call her back!
Mistress!
My Lord. What would you
with her, sir? Who?
I, my lord?
Ay, you did wish that
I would make her turn.
Sir, she can turn, and turn,
and yet go on, and turn again,
and she can weep, sir, weep,
and she's obedient, as you say,
obedient, very obedient.
Proceed you in your tears.
Concerning this, sir...
O, well-painted passion!
..here I am commanded home.
I am commanded home. Get you away.
Sir, I obey the mandate
and will return to Venice.
Hence, avaunt!
Cassio shall have my place.
And, sir, tonight, I do entreat
that we may sup together, hm?
You are welcome, sir, to Cyprus.
Goats and monkeys!
HE CHUCKLES
Goats and monkeys! Hm?
QUIETLY: Goats and monkeys.
Is this the noble Moor whom our full
Senate called all-in-all sufficient?
Is this the nature whom passion
could not shake?
He is much changed.
Are his wits safe?
Is he not light of brain?
He is that he is.
What, strike his wife?
Faith, that was not so well.
Yet would I knew that stroke
would prove the worst.
Is it his use or did the letter
work upon his blood
and new create this fault?
Alas, alas, it is not honesty in me
to speak what I have seen and known.
You will observe him and his own
courses shall denote him so
that I may save my speech.
Do but go after and mark
how he continues.
I'm sorry that I'm deceived in him.
You have seen nothing, then?
Nor ever heard nor ever did suspect.
Yes, you have seen Cassio
and she together.
But then I saw no harm...
..and then I heard each syllable
that breath made up between them.
What, did they never whisper? Never.
Nor send you out of the way?
Never, my lord. To fetch her fan,
her gloves, her mask, nor nothing?
Never.
That's strange.
I durst my Lord to wager that she is
honest, lay down my soul at stake.
If you think other, remove your
thought. It doth abuse your bosom.
If any wretch have put
this in your head,
let heaven requite it
with a serpent's curse,
for if she be not honest, chaste
and true, there is no man happy.
The purest of their wives is foul as
slander. Bid her come hither. Go!
She says enough, yet she's a simple
bawd that cannot say as much.
This is a subtle whore, a closet
lock and key of villainous secrets.
Yet she'll kneel and pray.
I've seen her do it.
My lord, what is your will?
Pray, chuck, come hither.
What is your pleasure?
Let me see your eyes.
Look in my face.
What horrible fancy's this?
Some of your function, mistress.
Leave procreants alone
and shut the door. Cough or cry hem
if anybody come.
Your mystery, your mystery.
Nay, dispatch!
Upon my knee,
what doth your speech import?
I understand the fury in your words
but not the words.
Why, what art thou? Your wife,
my lord, your true and loyal wife.
Come, swear it, damn thyself,
lest, being like one of heaven,
the devils themselves should
fear to seize thee.
Therefore, be double-damned.
Swear thou art honest.
Heaven doth truly know it.
Heaven truly knows
thou art false as hell.
To whom, my lord?
With whom? How am I false?
O, Desdemona...
..away.
Away.
Away! Alas, the heavy day!
Why do you weep?
Am I the motive of these tears,
my lord?
If haply you my father do suspect
an instrument of this
your calling back,
lay not your blame on me.
If you have lost him...
..I have lost him, too.
Had it pleased heaven
to try me with affliction,
had they rained all kind of sores
and shames on my bare head,
steeped me in poverty to the very
lips, given to captivity
me and my utmost hopes, I should
have found in some place of my soul
a drop of patience,
but, alas, to make me...
..the fixed figure for
the time of scorn to point
his slow, unmoving finger at,
yet could I bear that, too. Well...
..very well.
But 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 thence... No.
..or keep it as a cistern for foul
toads to knot and gender in!
Turn thy complexion there,
Patience,
thou young and rose-lipped cherubim,
ay, there look grim as hell!
I hope my noble lord
esteems me honest.
Oh, ay, as summer flies
are in the shambles
that quicken even with blowing.
Oh...
..thou weed...
..who art so lovely fair
and smells so sweet
that the sense aches at thee,
would thou hadst never been born!
Alas...
..what ignorant sin
have I committed?
Was this fair paper,
this most goodly book,
made to write "whore" upon?
What committed? Committed?
Oh, thou public commoner,
I should make very forges
of my cheeks that would to cinders
burn up modesty, did I
but speak thy deeds. What committed?
Heaven stops the nose at it.
The mood winks, the bawdy wind that
kisses all it meets is hushed
within the hollow mine of earth and
will not hear it. What committed?
Impudent strumpet! By heaven, you
do me wrong.
Are not you a strumpet?
No, as I am a Christian.
If to preserve this vessel for
my lord from any other foul,
unlawful touch be not to be
a strumpet, I am none.
"As I am a Christian."
I am a Christian?
What, not a whore? No!
As I shall be saved. Is't possible?
O...heaven forgive us.
I cry you mercy, then.
I took you for that cunning whore
of Venice that married with Othello.
You, mistress,
that have the office opposite to
St Peter and keep the gate of hell.
You, you, ay, you,
we've done our course.
There's money for your pains.
I pray you, turn the key
and keep our counsel.
Alas, what does this
gentleman conceive?
How do you, madam?
How do you, my good lady?
Faith, half asleep! Madam,
what's the matter with my lord?
With who? Why, with my lord, madam.
Who is thy lord?
He that is yours, sweet lady.
I have none. Do not talk to me,
Emilia.
I cannot weep...
..nor answers have I none,
but what should go by water.
Prithee, tonight, lay on my bed
my wedding sheets, remember.
And call thy husband hither.
Here's a change indeed.
'Tis meet I should be used
so, very meet.
How have I been behaved that he
might stick the small'st opinion
on my least misuse?
What is your pleasure, madam?
How is't with you? I cannot tell.
Those that do teach young babes do
it with gentle means and easy tasks.
He might have chid me so, for in
good faith, I am a child to chiding.
What is the matter, lady? Alas,
Iago, my lord hath so bewhored her,
thrown such despite and heavy terms
upon her,
that true hearts cannot bear it.
Am I that name, Iago?
What name, fair lady?
Such as she said my lord
did say I was.
He called her whore.
A beggar in his drink could not have
laid such terms upon his callet.
Beshrew him for't. Why did he so?
I will be hanged
if some eternal villain,
some busy and insinuating rogue,
some cogging, cozening slave,
to get some office, have not devised
this slander. I will be hanged else.
Fie, it is impossible,
there is no such man.
Why should he call her whore?
Who keeps her company?
What place, what time, what form,
what likelihood?
The Moor is abused by some most
villainous knave. Speak within door.
Fie upon them.
Some such squire he was that turned
your wit the seamy side without
and made you to suspect me
with the Moor.
You are a fool. Go to!
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 e'er my will did trespass
'gainst 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."
SHE SOBS
SHE CRIES
I pray you, be content.
It is but his humour.
The business of state does him some
offence and he does chide with you.
If 'twere no other!
I warrant, it is so.
Go in and weep not.
All things will be well.
SHOUTS: What?
AUDIENCE LAUGH
How now, Roderigo?
I do not find that thou deal'st
justly with me.
What in the contrary?
Every day, thou daff'st me
with some device, Iago,
and, rather, as it seems to be now,
keep'st me from all conveniency
than suppliest me
with the least advantage of hope.
I will indeed no longer endure it,
nor am I yet persuaded to put up
in peace what already
I have foolishly suffered.
Will you hear me, Roderigo?
Faith, I've heard too much.
"Oh, Roderigo, I could never
better stead thee than now.
"Let us be conjunctive
in our revenge against him.
"Thou shalt enjoy her, Roderigo."
Your words and performances
are no kin together!
You judge me most unjustly.
With naught but truth.
I've wasted myself out of my means.
The jewels you would have
from me to deliver Desdemona
would half have
corrupted a votarist.
You've told me
she hath received them... Oh...
..and returned me expectations
and comforts of sudden respect
and acquaintance...but I find none.
Very well, go to, very well.
SCREAMS: "Very well, go to"?
I cannot go to, man,
nor 'tis not very well!
Nay, I think it is scurvy. I begin
to find myself fopped in it.
Very well. I tell you,
'tis not very well.
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 I've said nothing but what
I protest intendment of doing.
Why, now I see there's...
..mettle in thee,
and, even from this instant,
do build on thee a better opinion
than ever before.
Come, give me thy hand, Roderigo.
Thou hast taken against me a most
just exception, and yet, I protest,
I have dealt most directly in thy
affair. It hath not appeared.
I grant it hath not appeared!
And your suspicion is not without
wit and judgment, but, Roderigo,
if thou hast that in thee indeed
which I have greater reason to
believe now than ever,
I mean, purpose,
courage, and valour,
this night, show it.
If thou, the next night following,
enjoy not Desdemona,
take me from this world
with treachery
and devise engines for my life.
Well, what is it? Is it within
reason and compass?
Sir, there is an especial commission
come from Venice to depute
Cassio in Othello's place.
Is that true?
Why, then, Othello and Desdemona
return again to Venice.
No, he goes away into Mauritania,
and he takes away with him
the fair Desdemona, unless his abode
be lingered here by some accident,
wherein none can be so determinate
as in the removing of Casio.
How do you mean "removing" of him?
Why, by making him
uncapable of Othello's place.
Knocking out his brains.
And that you would have me to do?
Ay, if you dare do yourself
a profit and a right.
He sups tonight with a harlotry,
and thither will I go to him.
He knows not yet
of his honourable fortune.
If you will watch his going thence,
which I will fashion to fall out
between 12 and 1,
you may take him at your pleasure.
I'll be near to second your attempt
and he shall fall between us.
What, man? Stand not amazed at it
but go along with me.
I will show you such
a necessity in his death,
you shall think yourself
bound to put it on him.
What, man? It is now
high suppertime,
and the night grows to waste.
About it!
I will hear further reason for this.
And you shall be satisfied.
GENTLE GUITAR MUSIC PLAYS
WATER LAPS
I do beseech you, sir,
trouble yourself no further.
Oh, pardon me, sir, it will do me
good to walk.
Madam, goodnight.
I humbly thank your ladyship.
Your honour is most welcome.
Come, sir, will you walk?
Oh, Desdemona? My lord?
Get you to bed on the instant.
I will be returned forthwith.
Dismiss your attendant there.
Look't be done. I will, my lord.
How goes it now?
He looks gentler than he did.
He says he will return...
He says he will return incontinent,
and hath commanded me to go to bed
and bid me to dismiss you.
Dismiss me? It was his bidding,
therefore, good Emilia,
give me my nightly wearing
and adieu.
We must not now displease him.
I would you had never seen him.
So would not I.
My love doth so approve him
that even his stubbornness,
his checks, his frowns...
Prithee, unpin me.
..have grace and favour in them.
I've laid those sheets you
bade me on the bed. All's one.
Good faith,
how foolish are our minds?
If I should die before thee,
prithee shroud me
in one of those same sheets.
Come, come, you talk.
THEY LAUGH
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.
GUITAR STRIKES UP
An old thing, 'twas,
but it expressed her fortune
and she died singing it.
That song, tonight,
will not go from my mind.
I have much to do but to go hang my
head all at one side and sing it
like poor Barbary.
Prithee, dispatch!
Shall I go and fetch your nightgown?
No!
No - unpin me here.
This Lodovico is a proper man.
A very handsome man.
He speaks well.
I know a lady in Venice would have
walked barefoot to Palestine
for a touch of his nether lip.
# The poor soul sat sighing
# By a sycamore tree
# Sing all a green willow
# Her hand on her bosom
# Her head on her knee
# Sing willow, willow, willow
# The fresh streams ran by her
# And murmured her moans
# Sing willow, willow, willow
Ooh, ooh, ooh
# Her salt tears fell from her
# And softened the stones... #
Lay by these.
# Sing willow, willow
# Willow
La-la... #
Prithee, hie thee, he'll come anon.
# Da-da
All a green willow
# Da, da, da-da
Must be my garland
# Let nobody blame him
Da, da-da-da, da-da
# His scorn I approve
Da, da-da, da... #
Nay, that's not next!
# La... #
Hark! Who is't that knocks?
It's the wind.
# I called my love false love
# But what said he then?
# Sing willow
# Willow
# If I court more women
# You'll coach with more men... #
So, get thee gone.
Goodnight.
Mine eyes do itch -
doth that bode weeping?
'Tis neither here nor there.
I've heard it said so.
Oh, 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 such, no question.
Wouldst thou do such
a deed for all the world?
Why, would not you?
No, by this heavenly light!
Nor I neither,
by this heavenly light.
I might do't 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.
In troth, I think thou wouldst not.
In troth, I think I should,
and undo it when I had done.
Marry, I would not do such
a thing for a joint-ring,
nor for measures of lawn, nor caps,
nor gowns, nor petticoats,
nor any petty exhibition, but...
..for all the whole world.
But, God's pity, who would not
make her husband a cuckold
to make him a monarch?
I should venture
your purgatory for it.
Beshrew me, if I would do such
a thing for the whole world.
Why? The wrong is but
a wrong in the world,
and having the world
for your labour,
'tis a wrong in your own world that
you might quickly make it right.
I do not think
there is any such woman.
Yes, a dozen!
And as many to th' vantage as would
store the world they played for.
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?
Or scant our former
having in despite?
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?
It is 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,
ther ills instruct us so.
Goodnight.
Goodnight.
God me such uses send,
not to pick bad from bad,
but by bad mend.
IAGO: Here, stand behind this bulk,
straight will he come.
Wear thy good rapier bare,
and put it home.
Quick, quick! Fear nothing.
I'll be at thy elbow.
It makes us, or it mars us.
Think on that,
and fix most firm thy resolution.
Be near at hand,
I may miscarry in't.
Here, at thy hand.
Be bold, and take thy stand.
I have no great devotion
to the deed.
And yet he hath given me
satisfying reasons.
'Tis but a man gone.
Forth, my sword... He dies!
I have rubbed this young quat
almost to the sense,
and he grows angry.
Now, whether he kill
Cassio or...or Cassio him,
or each do kill the other,
every way makes my gain.
Live Roderigo - he calls me
to a restitution large of gold
and jewels that I bobbed
from him as gifts to Desdemona.
It must not be.
If Cassio do remain -
he hath a daily beauty in his life
that makes me ugly.
And, besides,
the Moor may unfold me to him,
and there stand I in much peril.
No, he must die.
But, so, I hear him coming.
Villain, thou diest!
Ugh! Ugh!
Ah!
Ooh!
That thrust had
been mine enemy indeed.
But that my coat is
better than thou know'st,
I will make proof of thine.
Agh!
Ah!
Ah, villain!
GUNSHOTS
Oh, light! Murder! Murder!
'Tis some mischance!
The voice is very direful.
Two or three groan.
'Tis heavy night,
these may be counterfeits.
Let's think it unsafe to come
in to the cry without more help.
Here comes a man with light and
weapons. Who's there?
Whose noise is this
that cries on murder?
We do not know.
Do not you hear a cry?
For heaven's sake, help me!
What's the matter?
This is Othello's ensign,
as I take it.
The same indeed -
a very valiant fellow.
What are you here that
cry so grievously? Iago!
I am undone! Spoiled by villains!
Oh, me, lieutenant!
What villains have done this?
I think that one of them
is hereabout, and cannot make away.
Oh, murderous slaves!
Treacherous villains!
What are you there?
Come in, and give some help.
Help me, help me!
That's one of them!
O, murderous slaves!
O, treacherous villains!
O, damned Iago!
Inhuman dog!
IAGO HUSHES HIM
What?
Kill men in the dark!
Where be these bloody thieves?
How silent is this town!
Murder! Murder!
What might you be?
Are you of good or evil?
As you shall prove us, praise us.
Signior Lodovico? He, sir.
I cry you mercy.
Here lies Cassio, hurt by villains.
Cassio! How is't, brother?
My leg is cut in two!
Marry, heaven forbid!
Light, gentlemen -
I will bind it with my scarf.
What is the matter, ho?
Who is 't that cried?
Who is 't that cried?
Oh, my dear Cassio! My sweet Cassio!
O, Cassio, Cassio, Cassio!
O, notable strumpet!
Cassio, may you suspect who they
should be that have
thus mangled you?
No. I am sorry to find you thus.
We have been to seek you.
Alas, he faints. Cassio. Cassio!
Cassio!
Gentlemen all,
I do suspect this trash
to be a party in this injury.
Patience awhile, good Cassio.
Agh!
Come, come, lend me a light.
Know we this face or no?
Alas, my friend and my dear
countryman Roderigo!
What, of Venice? Even he.
Did you know him?
Know him? Ay. Signior Gratiano?
These bloody accidents must excuse
my manners that so neglected you.
I am glad to see you.
How do you, Cassio? Roderigo?
He, even he. Get the lights.
As for you, mistress,
save your labour.
Cassio. Cassio...
Cassio.
Agh! Cassio.
He that lies slain here
was my dear friend.
What malice was between you?
None in the world,
nor do I know the man.
What, look you pale?
Bear him out o' the air.
Come, Lieutenant. Come on!
CASSIO GROANS
Stay you, good gentlemen. What?
Look you pale, mistress?
Do you perceive
the ghastness of her eye?
Nay, if you stare,
we shall hear more anon.
I pray you, look upon her.
Behold her well.
Do you see, gentlemen?
Nay, guiltiness will speak,
though tongues were out of use.
Alas, what's the matter?
What is the matter, husband?
Cassio hath here been
set on in the dark by Roderigo
and fellows that are 'scaped.
He's almost slain,
and Roderigo quite.
Alas, good gentleman!
Alas, good Cassio!
This is the fruits of whoring.
Prithee, Emilia - go know of Cassio
where he supped tonight.
Whoa, whoa, what, what?
Do you shake at that?
He supped at my house,
but I therefore shake not.
Oh, did he so?
I charge you, go with me.
Oh, fie upon thee, strumpet!
I am no strumpet, but of life
as honest as you that thus abuse me.
As I! Fie upon thee!
Hey! Hey!
Kind gentlemen, let's go
see poor Cassio dressed.
Come, mistress,
you must tell us another tale.
Emilia, run you to the citadel
and tell my lord and lady
what hath happed.
Will you go on afore, gentlemen?
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 thy
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.
DESDEMONA MURMURS
Oh...
..balmy breath...
..that dost almost persuade
justice to break her sword.
One more, one more.
Be thus when thou art dead,
and I will kill thee
and love thee after...
One more.
And this...
..the last.
DESDEMONA MURMURS
So sweet was never so fatal.
I must weep.
OTHELLO SOBS
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 lord.
If you bethink yourself
of any crime...
..unreconciled as yet
to heaven and grace,
solicit for it straight.
Alack, 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, heavens 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.
Ha.
And yet I fear you.
Why I should fear, I know not,
since guiltiness I know not.
But yet I feel I fear.
Think on thy sins.
They are the loves I bear to you.
Ay, and for that, thou diest.
Peace! No!
Peace!
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.
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 confess'd.
What, my lord?
That he hath used thee.
How? Unlawfully? Ay.
He will not say so. No.
His mouth is stopp'd.
Honest Iago hath ta'en order for't.
O!
My... My fear interprets.
What, is he...dead?
Had all his hairs been lives,
my great revenge
had stomach for them all.
Alas!
He is betray'd...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,
let me live tonight!
Nay, if you strive...
But half an hour!
Being done, there is no pause.
But while I say one prayer!
It is too late.
EMILIA: My lord! What, ho, my lord!
What noise 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...
So.
EMILIA: What, ho, my lord!
Who's there?
My lord, I would
speak a word 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.
Ha, no more moving?
Still as the grave.
Shall she come in? Were't good?
I think she stirs again...
No.
HE SOBS
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.
My lord, I do beseech you
that I may speak with you.
Yes, I had forgot thee.
Come in, Emilia.
Soft, by and by.
Where art thou?
What's the matter with thee now?
My lord, yonder's foul murders done!
What, now? But now, my lord.
It is the very error of the moon.
She comes more nearer Earth than
she was wont, and makes men mad.
Cassio, my lord, hath kill'd
a young Venetian called Roderigo.
Roderigo kill'd! And Cassio kill'd?
No, Cassio is not kill'd.
Not Cassio kill'd!
Then murder's out of tune,
and sweet revenge grows harsh.
DESDEMONA GASPS
Alas, what cry is that?
That! What?
That is my lady's voice.
DESDEMONA COUGHS
Sweet lady, speak again!
Sweet Desdemona!
Sweet mistress, speak!
A guiltless death I die.
Who hath done this deed?
Nobody.
I...myself.
Commend me to my kind lord.
Why, how should she be murder'd?
Alas, who knows?
You heard her say herself,
it was not I.
She said so.
I must needs report the truth.
No...!
She's, like a liar,
gone to burning hell -
'twas I that kill'd her.
O, the more angel she,
and you the blacker devil!
She turn'd to folly,
and she was a whore.
Thou dost belie her,
and thou art a devil.
She was false as water.
Thou art rash as fire,
to say that she was false.
She was heavenly true!
Cassio did top her -
ask thy husband else.
I were damn'd beneath
all depth in hell,
but that I did proceed upon
just grounds to this extremity.
Thy husband knew it all.
My husband! Thy husband.
That she was false to wedlock?
Ay, with Cassio!
My husband say that she was false?
He, woman. I say thy husband -
dost understand the word?
My friend, thy husband,
honest...honest Iago.
If he say so,
may his pernicious soul
rot half a grain a day.
He lies to the heart.
She was too fond
of her most filthy bargain.
Uh-uh-uh. Do thy worst.
This deed of thine is no more worthy
heaven than thou wast worthy her.
Peace, you were best.
Thou hast not half that power
to do me harm
as I have to be hurt.
O, gull! O, dolt!
As ignorant as dirt!
Thou hast done a deed!
I care not for thy sword!
I'll make thee known,
though I lost 20 lives.
Help! Help, ho!
The Moor hath kill'd my mistress!
Murder!
FOOTSTEPS
MONTANO: What's the matter?
How now, general?!
O, are you come, Iago?
You have done well, that men must
lay their murders on your neck.
GRATIANO: What is the matter?
Disprove this villain,
if thou be'st a man.
He says thou told'st him
his wife was false.
I know thou didst not,
thou'rt not such a villain.
Speak, for my heart is full.
I told him what I thought,
and told no more than what
he found himself was apt and true.
But did you ever tell him
she was false?
I did.
Then you told a lie.
An odious, damned lie.
Upon my soul, a lie, a wicked lie.
She false with Cassio?!
Did you say with Cassio?
With Cassio, mistress.
Go to, charm your tongue.
I will not charm my tongue.
I am bound to speak.
My mistress here lies
murder'd in her bed -
and your reports have
set the murder on.
Nay, stare not, masters -
it is true, indeed.
GRATIANO: 'Tis a strange truth.
MONTANO: O, monstrous act!
EMILIA: Villainy, villainy,
villainy!
I think upon't, I think I smell't.
O, villainy! I thought so then,
and I will kill myself for grief.
O, villainy! What, are you mad?
I charge you, get you home.
Good gentlemen,
let me have leave to speak.
'Tis proper I obey him, but not now.
Perchance, Iago,
I will ne'er go home.
O! O! O!
Nay, lay thee down and roar -
for thou hast kill'd the sweetest
innocent that e'er did lift up eye.
O, she was foul!
I scarce did know you, uncle.
There lies your niece,
whose breath, indeed,
these hands have newly stopp'd.
I know this act
shows horrible and grim.
Poor Desdemona!
I am glad thy father's dead -
thy match was mortal to him,
and pure grief shore
his old thread in twain.
Did he live now, this sight would
make him do a desperate turn,
yea, curse his better angel
from his side,
and fall to reprobance.
It is pitiful - yet Iago knows
that she with Cassio the act
of shame a thousand times committed.
Cassio confess'd it -
and she did gratify his amorous
works with that recognisance
and pledge of love
which I first gave her.
I saw it in his hand.
It was a handkerchief,
an antique token
my father gave my mother.
O, God! O, heavenly powers!
Zounds, hold your peace.
'Twill out, 'twill out. I peace?
No, I will speak
as liberal as the north.
Let heaven and men and devils,
let them all, all, all,
cry shame against me,
yet I'll speak.
Be wise, and get you home!
I will not!
Fie! Your sword upon a woman?!
O, thou dull Moor!
That handkerchief thou speak'st of
I found by fortune
and did give my husband -
for often,
with solemn earnestness,
more than indeed
belong'd to such a trifle,
he begg'd of me to steal it.
Villainous whore!
She give it Cassio? No, alas!
I found it,
and I did give it my husband.
Filth, thou liest!
By heaven, I do not,
I do not, gentlemen.
O, murderous coxcomb!
What should such a fool
do with so good a wife?
Are there no stones in heaven
but what serve for the thunder?
Precious villain!
Take you this weapon!
Come, guard the door without -
let him not pass,
but kill him rather.
I'll after that same villain!
What did thy song bode, lady?
Moor, she was chaste.
She loved thee, cruel Moor.
EMILIA CHOKES
HE SNIFFS AND GRUNTS
And why should honour
outlive honesty?
Let it go all.
Now...
How dost thou look now?
O, ill-starr'd wench!
When we shall meet at compt,
this look of thine
will hurl my soul from heaven,
and fiends will snatch at it.
Cold...
Cold, my girl!
Even like thy chastity.
O, cursed, cursed slave!
O, Desdemona!
Dead!
Desdemona!
Dead!
Oh! Oh! Oh!
FOOTSTEPS APPROACH
Where is this rash
and most unfortunate man?
That's he that was Othello -
here I am.
Where is that viper?
Bring the villain forth.
I look down towards his feet,
but that's a fable.
If that thou beest a devil,
I cannot kill thee!
Wrench his sword from him.
I bleed, sir, but not kill'd.
I am not sorry, neither!
I'd have thee live.
For, in my sense,
'tis happiness to die.
O, thou Othello,
that was once so good,
fall'n in the practise
of a damned slave.
What shall be said to thee?
Why, anything.
An honourable murderer, if you will.
For nought did I in hate,
but all...
..in honour.
This wretch hath part
confess'd his villainy.
Did you and he consent
in Cassio's death?
Ay. I never gave you cause.
I do believe it,
and I ask your pardon.
Will you, I pray,
demand that demi-devil
why he hath thus ensnared
my soul and body?
Demand me nothing.
What you know, you know.
From this time forth,
I never will speak word.
What, not to pray?
GRATIANO: Torments
will ope your lips.
Well, thou dost best.
Cassio, how came you by that
handkerchief that was my wife's?
I found it in my chamber.
And he himself confess'd it but even
now that there he dropp'd it
for a special purpose
which wrought to his desire.
O, fool.
Fool. Fool!
You must forsake this room,
and go with us.
Your power and your command
is taken off,
and Cassio rules in Cyprus.
For this slave,
if there be any cunning cruelty
which can torment him much
and hold him long,
it shall be his.
You shall close prisoner rest,
till that the nature of your fault
be known to the Venetian state.
Come, bring away.
Soft you -
a word or two before you go.
I have done the state some service,
and they know it.
No more of that.
I pray you, in your letters,
when you shall these unlucky
deeds relate,
speak of me as I am -
nothing extenuate,
nor set down aught in malice.
Then must you speak...
..of one that loved not wisely
but too well.
Of one not easily jealous,
but being wrought
perplex'd in the extreme.
Of one whose hand,
like the base Indian,
threw a pearl away
richer than all his tribe.
Of one whose subdued eyes...
..albeit unused
to the melting mood...
..drop tears as fast
as the Arabian trees
their medicinable gum.
Set you down this.
And say besides
that in Aleppo once...
..where a malignant
and a turban'd Turk
beat a Venetian
and traduced the state,
I took by the throat
the circumcised dog,
and smote him...
..thus.
Oh...
I kiss'd thee...
..ere I kill'd thee.
No way but this.
Killing myself...
..to die upon a...a kiss.
All that's spoke is marr'd.
O, Spartan dog,
more fell than anguish,
hunger, or the sea!
Look on the tragic loading
of this bed. This is THY work!
Gratiano, keep the house,
and seize upon the fortunes
of the Moor,
for they succeed on you.
To you, lord governor,
remains the censure
of this hellish villain -
the time, the place, the torture.
O, enforce it!
Myself will straight aboard
and to the state this heavy act
with heavy heart relate.
IAGO LAUGHS FALTERINGLY
APPLAUSE
AUDIENCE CHEERS
