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 . 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 ; unless the bookish theoric ,
Wherein the toged consuls can propose 
As masterly as he : 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 be-lee'd and calm'd 
By debitor and creditor ; this counter caster ,
He , in good time , must his lieutenant be ,
And I God bless the mark !his Moorship's ancient .

By heaven , I rather would have been his hangman .

Why , there's no remedy : 'tis the curse of the service ,
Preferment goes by letter and affection ,
Not by the old gradation , where each second 
Stood heir to the first . Now , sir , be judge yourself ,
Whe'r I in any just term am affin'd 
To love the 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 . You shall mark 
Many a duteous and knee-crooking knave ,
That , doting on his own obsequious bondage ,
Wears out his time , much like his master's ass ,
For nought but provender , and when he's old , cashier'd ;
Whip me such honest knaves . Others there are 
Who , trimm'd in forms and visages of duty ,
Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves ,
And , throwing but shows of service on their lords ,
Do well thrive by them , and when they have lin'd their coats 
Do themselves homage : these fellows have some soul ;
And such a one do I profess myself . For , sir ,
It is as sure as you are Roderigo ,
Were I the Moor , I would not be Iago :
In following him , I follow but myself ;
Heaven is my judge , not I for love and 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 : I am not what I am .

What a full fortune does the thick-lips owe ,
If he can carry 't thus !

Call up her father ;
Rouse him , make after him , poison his delight ,
Proclaim him in the streets , 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 ; with like timorous accent and dire yell 
As when , by night and negligence , the fire 
Is spied in populous cities .

What , ho ! Brabantio ! Signior Brabantio , ho !

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 is the matter there ?

Signior , is all your family within ?

Are your doors lock'd ?

Why ? wherefore ask you this ?

'Zounds ! sir , you're robb'd ; for shame , put on your gown ;
Your heart is burst , you have lost half your soul ;
Even now , now , very now , an old black ram 
Is tupping your white ewe . 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 charg'd 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 .

Sir , sir , sir !

But thou must needs 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 ; 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 ,
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 . 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 , beauty , wit and fortunes 
In an extravagant and wheeling stranger 
Of here and every where . 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 !
Give me a taper ! call up all my people !
This accident is not unlike my dream ;
Belief of it oppresses me already .
Light , I say ! light !


Farewell , for I must leave you :
It seems not meet nor wholesome to my place 
To be produc'd , as , if I stay , I shall ,
Against the Moor ; for , I do know the state ,
However this may gall him with some check ,
Cannot with safety cast him ; for he's embark'd 
With such loud reason to the Cyprus wars ,
Which even now stand in act ,that , for their souls ,
Another of his fathom they have none ,
To lead their business ; in which regard ,
Though I do hate him as I do hell-pains ,
Yet , for necessity of present life ,
I must show out a flag and sign of love ,
Which is indeed but sign . That you shall surely find him ,
Lead to the Sagittary the raised search ;
And there will I be with him . So , farewell .

It is too true an evil : gone she is ,
And what's to come of my despised time 
Is nought but bitterness . Now , Roderigo ,
Where didst thou see her ? O , unhappy girl !
With the Moor , sayst thou ? Who would be a father !
How didst thou know 'twas she ? O , she deceives me 
Past thought . What said she to you ? Get more tapers !
Raise all my kindred ! Are they married , think you ?

Truly , I think they are .

O heaven ! How got she out ? O , treason of the blood :
Fathers , from hence trust not your daughters' minds 
By what you see them act . Are there not charms 
By which the property of youth and maidhood 
May be abus'd ? Have you not read , Roderigo ,
Of some such thing ?

Yes , sir , I have indeed .

Call up my brother . O ! that you had had her .
Some one way , some another ! 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 . Get weapons , ho !
And raise some special officers of night .
On , good Roderigo ; I'll deserve your pains .


Though in the trade of war I have slain men ,
Yet do I hold it very stuff o' the conscience 
To do no contriv'd murder : I lack iniquity 
Sometimes to do me service . Nine or ten times 
I had thought to have yerk'd him here under the ribs .

'Tis better as it is .

Nay , but he prated ,
And spoke such scurvy and provoking terms 
Against your honour 
That , with the little godliness I have ,
I did full hard forbear him . But , I pray , sir ,
Are you fast married ? Be assur'd of this ,
That the magnifico is much belov'd ,
And hath in his effect a voice potential 
As double as the duke's ; he will divorce you ,
Or put upon you what restraint and 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 ,
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 no .


The servants of the duke , and my lieutenant .
The goodness of the night upon you , friends !
What is the news ?

The duke does greet you , general ,
And he 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 , rais'd 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 about 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 .


Ancient , what makes he here ?

Faith , he to-night hath boarded a land carrack ;
If it prove lawful prize , he's made for ever .

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 .

It is Brabantio . General , be advis'd ;
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 ,
If she in chains of magic were not bound ,
Whether a maid so tender , fair , and happy ,
So opposite to marriage that she shunn'd 
The wealthy curled darlings of our nation ,
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 practis'd on her with foul charms ,
Abus'd her delicate youth with drugs or minerals 
That weaken 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 inhibited 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 messengers are here about my side ,
Upon some present business of the state 
To bring me to him ?

'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 the night ! Bring him away .
Mine's not an idle cause : the duke himself ,
Or any of my brothers of the state ,
Cannot but feel this wrong as 'twere their own ;
For if such actions may have passage free ,
Bond-slaves and pagans shall our statesmen be .

There is no composition in these news 
That gives them credit .

Indeed , they are disproportion'd ;
My letters say a hundred and seven galleys .

And mine , a hundred and forty .

And mine , two hundred :
But though they jump not on a just account ,
As in these cases , where the aim reports ,
'Tis oft with difference ,yet do they all confirm 
A Turkish fleet , and bearing up to Cyprus .

Nay , it is possible enough to judgment :
I do not so secure me in the error ,
But the main article I do approve 
In fearful sense .

What , ho ! what , ho ! what , ho !

A messenger from the galleys .


Now , what's the business ?

The Turkish preparation makes for 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 . When we consider 
The importancy of Cyprus to the Turk ,
And let ourselves again but understand ,
That as it more concerns the Turk than Rhodes ,
So may he with more facile question bear it ,
For that it stands not in such war-like brace ,
But altogether lacks the abilities 
That Rhodes is dress'd in : if we make thought of this ,
We must not think the Turk is so unskilful 
To leave that latest which concerns him first ,
Neglecting an attempt of ease and gain ,
To wake and wage a danger profitless .

Nay , in all confidence , he's not for Rhodes .

Here is more news .


The Ottomites , reverend and gracious ,
Steering with due course toward the isle of Rhodes ,
Have there injointed them with an after fleet .

Ay , so I thought . How many , as you guess ?

Of thirty sail ; and now they do re-stem 
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 ?

He's now in Florence .

Write from us to him ; post-post-haste dispatch .

Here comes Brabantio 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 to-night .

So did I yours . Good your grace , pardon me ;
Neither my place nor aught I heard of business 
Hath rais'd me from my bed , nor doth the general care 
Take hold of 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 ?

Dead ?

Ay , to me ;
She is abus'd , stol'n from me , and corrupted 
By spells and medicines bought of mounte-banks ;
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 beguil'd 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 .

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 approv'd 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 ;
For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith ,
Till now some nine moons wasted , they have us'd 
Their dearest action in the tented field ;
And little of this great world can I speak ,
More than pertains to feats of broil and battle ;
And 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 charg'd 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 , every thing ,
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 practices of cunning hell ,
Why this should be . I therefore vouch again 
That with some mixtures powerful o'er the blood ,
Or with some dram conjur'd to this effect ,
He wrought upon her .

To vouch this , is no proof ,
Without more certain and more overt test 
Than these thin habits and poor likelihoods 
Of modern seeming do prefer against him .

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 .

Ancient , conduct them ; 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 lov'd me ; oft invited me ;
Still question'd me the story of my life 
From year to year , the battles , sieges , fortunes 
That I have pass'd .
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 i' the imminent deadly breach ,
Of being taken by the insolent foe 
And sold to slavery , of my redemption thence 
And portance in my travel's history ;
Wherein of antres vast and desarts idle ,
Rough quarries , rocks and hills whose heads touch heaven ,
It was my hint to speak , such was the 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 wish'd 
That heaven had made her such a man ; she thank'd me ,
And bade me , if I had a friend that lov'd her ,
I should but teach him how to tell my story ,
And that would woo her . Upon this hint I spake :
She lov'd me for the dangers I had pass'd ,
And I lov'd her that she did pity them .
This only is the witchcraft I have us'd :
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 here do 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 , my lord .

Let me speak like yourself and lay a sentence ,
Which as a grize or step , may help these lovers 
Into your favour .
When remedies are past , the griefs are ended 
By seeing the worst , which late on hopes depended .
To mourn a mischief that is past and gone 
Is the next way to draw new mischief on .
What cannot be preserv'd when Fortune takes ,
Patience her injury a mockery makes .
The robb'd that smiles steals something from the thief ;
He robs himself that spends a bootless grief .

So let the Turk of Cyprus us beguile ;
We lose it not so long as we can smile .
He bears the sentence well that nothing bears 
But the free comfort which from thence he hears ;
But he bears both the sentence and the sorrow 
That , to pay grief , must of poor patience borrow .
These sentences , to sugar , or to gall ,
Being strong on both sides , are equivocal :
But words are words ; I never yet did hear 
That the bruis'd 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 sovereign mistress of effects , throws a more safer voice on you : you must therefore be content to slubber the gloss of your new fortunes with this more stubborn and boisterous expedition .

The tyrant custom , most grave senators ,
Hath made the flinty and steel couch of war 
My thrice-driven bed of down : I do agnize 
A natural and prompt alacrity 
I find in hardness , and do 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 .

If you please ,
Be 't 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 gracious ear ;
And let me find a charter in your voice 
To assist my simpleness .

What would you , Desdemona ?

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 subdu'd 
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 which 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 voices .
Vouch with me , heaven , I therefore beg it not 
To please the palate of my appetite ,
Nor to comply with heat ,the young affects 
In me defunct ,and proper satisfaction ,
But to be free and bounteous to her mind ;
And heaven defend your good souls that you think 
I will your serious and great business scant 
For she is with me . No , when light-wing'd toys 
Of feather'd Cupid seel with wanton dulness 
My speculative and offic'd instruments ,
That my disports corrupt and taint my business ,
Let housewives make a skillet of my helm ,
And all indign and base adversities 
Make head against my estimation !

Be it as you shall privately determine ,
Either for her stay or going . The affair cries haste ,
And speed must answer it .

You must away to-night .

With all my heart .

At nine i' the morning here we'll meet again .
Othello , leave some officer behind ,
And he shall our commission bring to you ;
With such things else of quality and respect 
As doth import you .

So please your Grace , my ancient ;
A man he is of honesty and trust :
To his conveyance I assign my wife ,
With what else needful your good grace shall think 
To be sent after me .

Let it be so .
Good night to every one .

And , noble signior ,
If virtue no delighted beauty lack ,
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 deceiv'd 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 .
Come , Desdemona ; I have but an hour 
Of love , of worldly matters and direction ,
To spend with thee : we must obey the time .


Iago !

What sayst thou , noble heart ?

What will I do , think'st thou ?

Why , go to bed , and sleep .

I will incontinently drown myself .

Well , 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 ! villanous ; I have looked upon the world for four times seven years , and since I 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 .

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 , or thus . Our bodies are our gardens , to the which our wills are gardeners ; so that if we will plant nettles or sow lettuce , set hyssop and woed up thyme , supply it with one gender of herbs or distract it with many , either to have it sterile with idleness or manured with industry , why , the power and corrigible authority of this lies in our wills . If the balance of our lives had not one scale of reason to poise another of sensuality , 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 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 . Drown thyself ! drown cats and blind puppies . I have professed me thy friend , 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 these wars ; defeat thy favour with a usurped beard ; I say , put money in thy purse . It cannot be that Desdemona should long continue her love to the 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 coloquintida . She must change for youth : when she is sated with his body , she will find the error of her choice . She must have change , she must : therefore put money in thy purse . 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 tribe of hell , thou shalt enjoy her ; therefore make money . A pox of drowning thyself ! it is clean out of the way : seek thou rather to be hanged in compassing thy joy than to be drowned and go without her .

Wilt thou be fast to my hopes , if I depend on the issue ?

Thou art sure of me : go , make money . I have told thee often , and I 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 ; if thou canst cuckold him , thou dost thyself a pleasure , me a sport . There are many events in the womb of time which will be delivered . Traverse ; go : provide thy money . We will have more of this to-morrow . Adieu .

Where shall we meet i' the morning ?

At my lodging .

I'll be with thee betimes .

Go to ; farewell . Do you hear , Roderigo ?

What say you ?

No more of drowning , do you hear ?

I am changed . I'll sell all my land .

Go to ; farewell ! put money enough in your purse .

Thus do I ever make my fool my purse ;
For I mine own 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 is thought abroad that 'twixt my sheets 
He has 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's see :
After some time to abuse Othello's ear 
That he is too familiar with his wife :
He hath a person and a smooth dispose 
To be suspected ; framed to make women false .
The Moor is of a free and open nature ,
That thinks men honest that but seem to be so ,
And will as tenderly be led by the nose 
As asses are .
I have 't ; 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 ;
For do but stand upon the foaming shore ,
The chidden billow seems to pelt the clouds ;
The wind-shak'd surge , with high and monstrous mane ,
Seems to cast water on the burning bear 
And quench the guards of the ever-fixed pole :
I never did like molestation view 
On the enchafed flood .

If that the Turkish fleet 
Be not enshelter'd and embay'd , they are drown'd ;
It is impossible they bear it out .


News , lads ! our wars are done .
The desperate tempest hath so bang'd the Turks 
That their designment halts ; a noble ship of Venice 
Hath seen a grievous wrack and sufferance 
On most part of their fleet .

How ! is this true ?

The ship is here put in ,
A Veronesa ; Michael Cassio ,
Lieutenant to the war-like Moor Othello ,
Is come on shore : the Moor himself's at sea ,
And is in full commission here for Cyprus .

I am glad on 't ; 'tis a worthy governor .

But this same Cassio , though he speak of comfort 
Touching the Turkish loss , yet he looks sadly 
And prays the Moor be safe ; for they were parted 
With foul and violent tempest .

Pray heaven he be ;
For I have serv'd him , and the man commands 
Like a full soldier . Let's to the sea-side , ho !
As well to see the vessel that's come in 
As to throw out our eyes for brave Othello ,
Even till we make the main and the aerial blue 
An indistinct regard .

Come , let's do so ;
For every minute is expectancy 
Of more arrivance .


Thanks , you the valiant of this war-like isle ,
That so approve the Moor . O ! let the heavens 
Give him defence against the elements ,
For I have lost him on a dangerous sea .

Is he well shipp'd ?

His bark is stoutly timber'd , and his pilot 
Of very expert and approv'd allowance ;
Therefore my hopes , not surfeited to death ,
Stand in bold cure .

What noise ?

The town is empty ; on the brow o' the sea 
Stand ranks of people , and they cry , 'A sail !' 

My hopes do shape him for the governor .


They do discharge their shot of courtesy ;
Our friends at least .

I pray you , sir , go forth ,
And give us truth who 'tis that is arriv'd .

I shall .


But , good lieutenant , is your general wiv'd ?

Most fortunately : he hath achiev'd a maid 
That paragons description and wild fame ;
One that excels the quirks of blazoning pens ,
And in th' essential vesture of creation 
Does tire the ingener .

How now ! who has put in ?

'Tis one Iago , ancient to the general .

He has had most favourable and happy speed :
Tempests themselves , high seas , and howling winds ,
The gutter'd rocks , and congregated sands ,
Traitors ensteep'd to clog the guiltless keel ,
As having sense of beauty , do omit 
Their mortal natures , letting go safely by 
The divine Desdemona .

What is she ?

She that I spake of , our great captain's captain ,
Left in the conduct of the bold Iago ,
Whose footing here anticipates our thoughts 
A se'nnight's speed . Great Jove , Othello guard ,
And swell his sail with thine own powerful breath ,
That he may bless this bay with his tall ship ,
Make love's quick pants in Desdemona's arms ,
Give renew'd fire to our extinc'ed spirits ,
And bring all Cyprus comfort !


O ! behold ,
The riches of the ship is come on shore .
Ye men of Cyprus , let her have your knees .
Hail to thee , lady ! and the grace of heaven ,
Before , behind thee , and on every hand ,

Enwheel thee round !

I thank you , valiant Cassio .
What tidings can you tell me of my lord ?

He is not yet arriv'd ; 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 . But hark ! a sail .


They give their greeting to the citadel :
This likewise is a friend .

See for the news !

Good ancient , you are welcome :

welcome , mistress .
Let it not gall your patience , good Iago ,
That 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 find it still when I have list 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 .

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 is 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 .

What wouldst thou write of me , if thou shouldst praise me ?

O gentle lady , do not put me to 't ,
For I am nothing if not critical .

Come on ; assay . There's one gone to the harbour ?

Ay , madam .

I am not merry , but I do beguile 
The thing I am by seeming otherwise .
Come , how wouldst thou praise me ?

I am about it ; but indeed my invention 
Comes from my pate as birdlime does from frize ;
It plucks out brains and all : but my muse labours ,
And thus she is deliver'd .
If she be fair and wise , fairness and wit ,
The one's for use , the other useth it .

Well prais'd ! How if she be black and witty ?

If she be black , and thereto have a wit ,
She'll find a white that shall her blackness fit .

Worse and worse .

How if fair and foolish ?

She never yet was foolish that was fair ,
For even her folly help'd her to an heir .

These are old fond paradoxes to make fools laugh i' the alehouse . What miserable praise hast thou for her that's foul and foolish ?

There's none so foul and foolish thereunto 
But does foul pranks which fair and wise ones do .

O heavy ignorance ! thou praisest the worst best . But what praise couldst thou bestow on a deserving woman indeed , one that , in the authority of her merit , did justly put on the vouch of very malice itself ?

She that was ever fair and never proud ,
Had tongue at will and yet was never loud ,
Never lack'd gold and yet went never gay ,
Fled from her wish and yet said 'Now I may ,' 
She that being anger'd , her revenge being nigh ,
Bade her wrong stay and her displeasure fly ,
She that in wisdom never was so frail 
To change the cod's head for the salmon's tail ,
She that could think and ne'er disclose her mind ,
See suitors following and not look behind ,
She was a wight , if ever such wight were ,

To do what ?

To suckle fools and chronicle small beer .

O most lame and impotent conclusion ! 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 .

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 gyve 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 . 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 ! [A trumpet heard .] The Moor ! I know his trumpet .

'Tis truly so .

Let's meet him and receive him .

Lo ! where he comes .


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 , and this , the greatest discords be ,

That e'er our hearts shall make !

O ! you are well tun'd now ,
But I'll set down the pegs that make this music ,
As honest as I am .

Come , let us to the castle .
News , friends ; our wars are done , the Turks are drown'd .
How does my old acquaintance of this isle ?
Honey , you shall be well desir'd in Cyprus ;
I have found great love amongst them . O my sweet ,
I prattle out of fashion , and I dote 
In mine own comforts . I prithee , good Iago ,
Go to the bay and disembark my coffers .
Bring thou the master to the citadel ;
He is a good one , and his worthiness 
Does challenge much respect . Come , Desdemona ,
Once more well met at Cyprus .


Do thou meet me presently at the harbour . Come hither . If thou be'st valiant , as they say base men being in love have then a nobility in their natures more than is native to them , list me . The lieutenant to-night watches on the court of guard : first , I must tell thee this , Desdemona is directly in love with him .

With him ! why , 'tis not possible .

Lay thy finger thus , and let thy soul be instructed . Mark me with what violence she first loved the Moor but for bragging and telling her fantastical lies ; and will she love him still for prating ? let not thy discreet heart think it . Her eye must be fed ; and what delight shall she have to look on the devil ? When the blood is made dull with the act of sport , there should be , again to inflame it , and to give satiety a fresh appetite , loveliness in favour , sympathy in years , manners , and beauties ; all which the Moor is defective in . Now , for want of these required conveniences , her delicate tenderness will find itself abused , begin to heave the gorge , disrelish and abhor the Moor ; very nature will instruct her in it , and compel her to some second choice . Now , sir , this granted , as it is a most pregnant and unforced position , who stands so eminently in the degree of this fortune as Cassio does ? a knave very voluble , no further conscionable than in putting on the mere form of civil and humane seeming , for the better compassing of his salt and most hidden loose affection ? why , none ; why , none : a slipper and subtle knave , a finder-out of occasions , that has an eye can stamp and counterfeit advantages , though true advantage never present itself ; a devilish knave ! Besides , the knave is handsome , young , and hath all those requisites in him that folly and green minds look after ; a pestilent complete knave ! and the woman hath found him already .

I cannot believe that in her ; she is full of most blessed condition .

Blessed fig's end ! the wine she drinks is made of grapes ; if she had been blessed she would never 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 , by this hand ! an index and obscure prologue to the history of lust and foul thoughts . They met so near with their lips , that their breaths embraced together . Villanous thoughts , Roderigo ! when these mutualities so marshal the way , hard at hand comes the master and main exercise , the incorporate conclusion . Pish ! But , sir , be you ruled by me : I have brought you from Venice . Watch you to-night ; for the command , I'll lay 't upon you : Cassio knows you not . I'll not be far from you : do you find some occasion to anger Cassio , either by speaking too loud , or tainting his discipline ; or from what other course you please , which the time shall more favourably minister .

Well .

Sir , he is rash and very sudden in choler , and haply may strike at you : provoke him , that he may ; 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 . So shall you have a shorter journey to your desires by the means I shall then have to prefer them ; and the impediment most profitably removed , without the which there were no expectation of our prosperity .

I will do this , if I can bring it to any opportunity .

I warrant thee . Meet me by and by at the citadel : I must fetch his necessaries ashore .
Farewell .

Adieu .


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 ,
Is 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 the 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 the Moor 
At least into a jealousy so strong 
That judgment cannot cure . Which thing to do ,
If this poor trash of Venice , whom I trash 
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 the 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 confus'd :
Knavery's plain face is never seen till us'd .


It is Othello's pleasure , our noble and valiant general , that , upon certain tidings now arrived , importing the mere perdition of the Turkish fleet , every man put himself into triumph ; some to dance , some to make bonfires , each man to what sport and revels his addiction leads him ; for , besides these beneficial news , it is the celebration of his nuptial . So much was his pleasure should be proclaimed . All offices are open , and there is full liberty of feasting from this present hour of five till the bell have told eleven . Heaven bless the isle of Cyprus and our noble general Othello !


Good Michael , look you to the guard to-night :
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 , good night ; to-morrow with your earliest 
Let me have speech with you .

Come , my dear love ,
The purchase made , the fruits are to ensue ;
That profit's yet to come 'twixt me and you .
Good night .

Welcome , Iago ; we must to the watch .

Not this hour , lieutenant ; 'tis not yet ten o' the clock . Our general cast us thus early for the love of his Desdemona , who let us not therefore blame ; he hath not yet made wanton the night with her , and she is sport for Jove .

She's a most exquisite lady .

And , I'll warrant her , full of game .

Indeed , she is a most fresh and delicate creature .

What an eye she has ! methinks it sounds a parley of provocation .

An inviting eye ; and yet methinks right modest .

And when she speaks , is it not an alarum to love ?

She is indeed perfection .

Well , happiness to their sheets ! Come , lieutenant , 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 to-night , good Iago : I have very poor and unhappy brains for drinking : I could well wish courtesy would invent some other custom of entertainment .

O ! they are our friends ; but one cup : I'll drink for you .

I have drunk but one cup to-night , and that was craftily qualified too , and , behold , what innovation it makes here : 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 .


If I can fasten but one cup upon him ,
With that which he hath drunk to-night already ,
He'll be as full of quarrel and offence 
As my young mistress' dog . Now , my sick fool Roderigo ,
Whom love has turn'd almost the wrong side out ,
To Desdemona hath to-night carous'd 
Potations pottle deep ; and he's to watch .
Three lads of Cyprus , noble swelling spirits ,
That hold their honours in a wary distance ,
The very elements of this war-like isle ,
Have I to-night fluster'd with flowing cups ,
And they watch too . Now , 'mongst this flock of drunkards ,
Am I to put our Cassio in some action 
That may offend the isle . But here they come .
If consequence do but approve my dream ,
My boat sails freely , both with wind and stream .


'Fore God , they have given me a rouse already .

Good faith , a little one ; not past a pint , as I am a soldier .

Some wine , ho !

And let me the canakin clink , clink ;
And let me the canakin clink :
A soldier's a man ;
A life's but a span ;
Why then let a soldier drink .

Some wine , boys !

'Fore God , an excellent song .

I learned it in England , where indeed they are most potent in potting ; your Dane , your German , and your swag-bellied Hollander ,  drink , ho !are nothing to your English .

Is your Englishman so expert in his drinking ?

Why , he drinks you with facility your Dane dead drunk ; he sweats not to overthrow your Almain ; he gives your Hollander a vomit ere the next pottle can be filled .

To the health of our general !

I am for it , lieutenant ; and I'll do you justice .

O sweet England !

King Stephen was a worthy peer ,
His breeches cost him but a crown ;
He held them sixpence all too dear ,
With that he call'd the tailor lown .
He was a wight of high renown ,
And thou art but of low degree :
'Tis pride that pulls the country down ,
Then take thine auld cloak about thee .

Some wine , ho !

Why , this is a more exquisite song than the other .

Will you hear 't again ?

No ; for I hold him to be unworthy of his place that does those things . Well , God's above all ; and there be souls must be saved , and there be souls must not be saved .

It's true , good lieutenant .

For mine own part ,no offence to the general , nor any man of quality ,I hope to be saved .

And so do I too , lieutenant .

Ay ; but , by your leave , not before me ; the lieutenant is to be saved before the ancient . Let's have no more of this ; let's to our affairs . God forgive us our sins ! Gentlemen , let's look to our business . Do not think , gentlemen , I am drunk : this is my ancient ; this is my right hand , and this is my left hand . I am not drunk now ; I can stand well enough , and speak well enough .

Excellent well .

Why , very well , then ; you must not think then that I am drunk .


To the platform , masters ; come , let's set the watch .

You see this fellow that is gone before ;
He is a soldier fit to stand by C sar 
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 him in ,
On some odd time of his infirmity ,
Will shake this island .

But is he often thus ?

'Tis evermore the prologue to his sleep :
He'll watch the horologe a double set ,
If drink rock not his cradle .

It were well 
The general were put in mind of it .
Perhaps he sees it not ; or his good nature 
Prizes the virtue that appears in Cassio ,
And looks not on his evils . Is not this true ?


How now , Roderigo !
I pray you , after the lieutenant ; go .


And '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 . But hark ! what noise ?

You rogue ! you rascal !

What's the matter , lieutenant ?

A knave teach me my duty !
I'll beat the knave into a twiggen bottle .

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 .

Nay , good lieutenant ! God's will , gentlemen !
Help , ho ! Lieutenant ! sir ! Montano ! sir !
Help , masters ! Here's a goodly watch indeed !

Who's that that rings the bell ? Diablo , ho !
The town will rise : God's will ! lieutenant , hold !
You will be sham'd for ever .


What is the matter here ?

'Zounds ! I bleed still ; I am hurt to the death .

Hold , for your lives !

Hold , ho , lieutenant ! Sir ! Montano ! gentlemen !
Have you forgot all sense of place and duty ?
Hold ! the general speaks to you ; hold for shame !

Why , how now , ho ! from whence ariseth this ?
Are we turn'd Turks , and to ourselves do that 
Which heaven hath forbid the Ottomites ?
For Christian shame put by this barbarous brawl ;
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 . What is the matter , masters ?
Honest Iago , that look'st dead with grieving ,
Speak , who began this ? on thy love , I charge thee .

I do not know ; friends all but now , even now ,
In quarter and in terms like bride and groom 
Devesting them for bed ; and then , but now ,
As if some planet had unwitted men ,
Swords out , and tilting one at other's breast ,
In opposition bloody . I cannot speak 
Any beginning to this peevish odds ,
And would in action glorious I had lost 
Those legs that brought me to a part of it !

How comes it , Michael , you are thus forgot ?

I pray you , pardon me ; I cannot speak .

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 , which something now offends me ,
Of all that I do know ; nor know I aught 
By me that's said or done amiss this night ,
Unless self-charity be sometimes a vice ,
And to defend ourselves it be a sin 
When violence assails us .

Now , by heaven ,
My blood begins my safer guides to rule ,
And passion , having my best judgment collied ,
Assays to lead the way . 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 approv'd 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 brimful of fear ,
To manage private and domestic quarrel ,
In night , and on the court and guard of safety !
'Tis monstrous . Iago , who began 't ?

If partially affin'd , or leagu'd 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 ;
Yet , I persuade myself , to speak the truth 
Shall nothing wrong him . Thus it is , general .
Montano and myself being in speech ,
There comes a fellow crying out for he'p ,
And Cassio following with determin'd sword 
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 the rather 
For that I heard the clink and fall of swords ,
And Cassio high in oath , which till to-night 
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 can I not 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 , receiv'd 
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 rais'd up ;

I'll make thee an example .

What's the matter ?

All's well now , sweeting ; come away to bed .
Sir , for your hurts , myself will be your surgeon .
Lead him off .

Iago , look with care about the town ,
And silence those whom this vile brawl distracted .
Come , Desdemona ; 'tis the soldiers' life ,
To have their balmy slumbers wak'd with strife .


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 offence 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 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 is 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 with your sword ? 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 ; one unperfectness shows me another , to make me frankly despise myself .

Come , you are too severe a moraler . As the time , the place , and the 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 am 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 ! O strange ! Every inordinate cup is unblessed and the ingredient is a devil .

Come , 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 .

I have well approved it , sir . I drunk !

You or any man living may be drunk at some time , man . I'll tell you what you shall do . Our general's wife is now the general : I may say so in this respect , for that he hath devoted and given up himself to the contemplation , mark , and denotement of her parts and graces : confess yourself freely to her ; importune her ; she'll help to put you in your place again . She is of so free , so kind , so apt , so blessed a disposition , that she holds it a vice in her goodness not to do more than she is 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 . Good night , lieutenant ; I must to the watch .

Good night , honest Iago !


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 fram'd as fruitful 
As the free elements . And then for her 
To win the Moor , were 't to renounce his baptism ,
All seals and symbols of redeemed sin ,
His soul is so enfetter'd 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 ? Divinity of hell !
When devils will the blackest sins put on ,
They do suggest at first with heavenly shows ,
As I do now ; for while this honest fool 
Plies Desdemona to repair his fortunes ,
And she for him pleads strongly to the Moor ,
I'll pour this pestilence into 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 will I turn her virtue into pitch ,
And 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 been to-night 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 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 ,
And wit depends on dilatory time .
Does 't not go well ? Cassio hath beaten thee ,
And thou by that small hurt hast cashiered Cassio .
Though other things grow fair against the sun ,
Yet fruits that blossom first will first be ripe :
Content thyself awhile . By the mass , 'tis morning ;
Pleasure and action make the hours seem short .
Retire thee ; go where thou art billeted :
Away , I say ; thou shalt know more hereafter :
Nay , 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 the Moor apart ,
And bring him jump when he may Cassio find 
Soliciting his wife : ay , that's the way :
Dull not device by coldness and delay .

Masters , play here , I will content your pains ;
Something that's brief ; and bid 'Good morrow , general .' 

Why , masters , have your instruments been in Naples , that they speak i' the nose thus ?

How , sir , how ?

Are these , I pray you , wind-instruments ?

Ay , marry , are they , sir .

O ! thereby hangs a tail .

Whereby hangs a tale , sir ?

Marry , sir , by many a wind-instrument that I know . But , masters , here's money for you ; and the general so likes your music , that he desires you , for love's sake , to make no more noise with it .

Well , sir , we will not .

If you have any music that may not be heard , to 't again ; but , as they say , to hear music the general does not greatly care .

We have none such , sir .

Then put up your pipes in your bag , for 
I'll away . Go ; vanish into air ; away !


Dost thou hear , mine honest friend ?

No , I hear not your honest friend ; I hear you .

Prithee , keep up thy quillets . There's a poor piece of gold for thee . If the gentlewoman that attends the general's wife be stirring , tell her there's one Cassio entreats her a little favour of speech : wilt thou do this ?

She is stirring , sir : if she will stir hither ,
I shall seem to notify unto her .

Do , good my friend .


In happy time , Iago .

You have not been a-bed , then ?

Why , no ; the day had broke 
Before we parted . I have made bold , Iago ,
To send in to your wife ; my suit to her 
Is , that she will to virtuous Desdemona 
Procure me some access .

I'll send her to you presently ;
And I'll devise a mean to draw the Moor 
Out of the way , that your converse and business 
May be more free .

I humbly thank you for 't .

I never knew 
A Florentine more kind and honest .


Good morrow , good lieutenant : I am sorry 
For your displeasure ; but all will soon be well .
The general and his wife are talking of it ,
And she speaks for you stoutly : the Moor replies 
That he you hurt is of great fame in Cyprus 
And great affinity , and that in wholesome wisdom 
He might not but refuse you ; but he protests he loves you ,
And needs no other suitor but his likings 
To take the saf'st occasion by the front 
To bring you in again .

Yet , I beseech you ,
If you think fit , or that it may be done ,
Give me advantage of some brief discourse 
With Desdemona alone .

Pray you , come in :
I will bestow you where you shall have time 
To speak your bosom freely .

I am much bound to you .


These letters give , Iago , to the pilot ,
And by him do my duties to the senate ;
That done , I will be walking on the works ;
Repair there to me .

Well , my good lord , I'll do t .

This fortification , gentlemen , shall we see 't ?

We'll wait upon your lordship .


Be thou assur'd , good Cassio , I will do 
All my abilities in thy behalf .

Good madam , do : I warrant it grieves my husband ,
As if the case were his .

O ! that's an honest fellow . Do not 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 't ; I thank you . You do love my lord ;
You have known him long ; and be you well assur'd 
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 every thing 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 .

Madam , not now ; I am very ill at ease ,
Unfit for mine own purposes .

Well , do your discretion .


Ha ! I like not that .

What dost thou say ?

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 you 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 ?

Ay , sooth ; so humbled ,
That he hath left part of his grief with me ,
To suffer with him . Good love , call him back .

Not now , sweet Desdemona ; some other time .

But shall 't be shortly ?

The sooner , sweet , for you .

Shall 't be to-night at supper ?

No , not to-night .

To-morrow dinner then ?

I shall not dine at home ;
I meet the captains at the citadel .

Why then , to-morrow night ; or 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 ;
And yet his trespass , in our common reason ,
Save that they say , the wars must make examples 
Out of their best ,is not almost a fault 
To incur a private check . When shall he come ?
Tell me , Othello : I wonder in my soul ,
What you could ask me that I should deny ,
Or stand so mammering on . What ! Michael Cassio ,
That came a wooing with you , and so many a time ,
When I have spoke of you dispraisingly ,
Hath ta'en your part ; to have so much to do 
To bring him in ! Trust me , 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 sue to you to do a peculiar profit 
To your own person ; nay , 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 .

I will deny thee nothing :
Whereon , I do beseech thee , grant me this ,
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 .


Excellent wretch ! Perdition catch my soul 
But I do love thee ! and when I love thee not ,
Chaos is come again .

My noble lord ,

What dost thou say , Iago ?

Did Michael Cassio , when you woo'd 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 .

O ! 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 .

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 :
I heard thee say but now , thou lik'dst not that ,
When Cassio left my wife ; what didst not like ?
And 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 hadst 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 ;
And , for I know thou art full of love and honesty ,
And weigh'st thy words before thou giv'st them breath ,
Therefore these stops of thine fright me the more ;
For such things in a false disloyal knave 
Are tricks of custom , but in a man that's just 
They are close delations , working from the heart 
That passion cannot rule .

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 pray thee , 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 ? who has a breast so pure 
But some uncleanly apprehensions 
Keep leets and law days , and in session sit 
With meditations lawful ?

Thou dost conspire against thy friend , Iago ,
If thou but think'st him wrong'd , and mak'st his ear 
A stranger to thy thoughts .

I do 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 faults that are not ,that your wisdom yet ,
From one that so imperfectly conceits ,
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 , or wisdom ,
To let you know my thoughts .

What dost thou mean ?

Good name in 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 hand ;
Nor shall not , whilst 'tis in my custody .

Ha !

O ! beware , my lord , of jealousy ;
It is the green-ey'd monster which doth mock 
The meat it feeds on ; that cuckold lives in bliss 
Who , certain of his fate , loves not his wronger ;
But , O ! what damned minutes tells he o'er 
Who dotes , yet doubts ; suspects , yet soundly loves !

O 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 heaven , 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 suspicions ? No ; to be once in doubt 
Is once 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 mine 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 it ; 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 eye thus , not jealous nor secure :
I would not have your free and noble nature 
Out of self-bounty be abus'd ; look to 't :
I know our country disposition well ;
In Venice they do let heaven see the pranks 
They dare not show their husbands ; their best conscience 
Is not to leave 't undone , but keep 't unknown .

Dost thou say so ?

She did deceive her father , marrying you :
And when she seem'd to shake and fear your looks ,
She lov'd them most .

And so she did .

Why , go to , then ;
She that so young could give out such a seeming ,
To seel her father's eyes up 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 for ever .

I see , this hath a little dash'd your spirits .

Not a jot , not a jot .

I' faith , I fear it has .
I hope you will consider what is spoke 
Comes from my love . But , I do see you're mov'd ;
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 
As my thoughts aim not at . Cassio's my worthy friend 
My lord , I see you're mov'd .

No , not much mov'd :
I do not think but Desdemona's honest .

Long live she so ! and long live you to think so !

And , yet , how nature erring from itself ,

Ay , there's the point : as , to be bold with you ,
Not to affect many proposed matches 
Of her own clime , complexion , and degree ,
Whereto , we see , in all things nature tends ;
Foh ! one may smell in such , a will most rank ,
Foul disproportion , thoughts unnatural .
But pardon me ; I do not in position 
Distinctly speak of her , though I may fear 
Her will , recoiling to her better judgment ,
May fail to match you with her country forms 
And happily repent .

Farewell , farewell :
If more thou dost perceive , let me know more ;
Set on thy wife to observe . Leave me , Iago .

My lord , I take my leave .


Why did I marry ? This honest creature , doubtless ,
Sees and knows more , much more , than he unfolds .

My lord , I would I might entreat your honour 
To scan this thing no further ; leave it to time .
Although 'tis fit that Cassio have his place ,
For , sure he fills it up with great ability ,
Yet , if you please to hold him off awhile ,
You shall by that perceive him and his means :
Note if your lady strain his entertainment 
With any strong or vehement importunity ;
Much will be seen in that . In the mean time ,
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 .


This fellow's of exceeding honesty ,
And knows all qualities , with a learned spirit ,
Of human dealings ; if I do prove her haggard ,
Though that her jesses were my dear heartstrings ,
I'd whistle her off and let her down the wind ,
To prey at fortune . Haply , for I am black ,
And have not those soft parts of conversation 
That chamberers have , or , for I am declin'd 
Into the vale of years yet that's not much 
She's gone , I am abus'd ; and my relief 
Must be to loathe her . O curse of marriage !
That we can call these delicate creatures ours ,
And not their appetites . I had rather be a toad ,
And live upon the vapour of a dungeon ,
Than keep a corner in the thing I love 
For others' uses . Yet , 'tis the plague of great ones ;
Prerogativ'd are they less than the base ;
'Tis destiny unshunnable , like death :
Even then this forked plague is fated to us 
When we do quicken .
Look ! where she comes .
If she be false , O ! 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 .

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 .

Your napkin is too little :

Let it alone . Come , I'll go in with you .

I am very sorry that you are not well .


I am glad I have found this napkin ;
This was her first remembrance from the Moor ;
My wayward husband hath a hundred times 
Woo'd me to steal it , but she so loves the token ,
For he conjur'd her she should ever keep it ,
That she reserves it evermore about her 
To kiss and talk to . I'll have the work ta'en out ,
And give 't 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 .

A thing for me ? It is a common thing 

Ha !

To have a foolish wife .

O ! is that all ? What will you give me now 
For that same handkerchief ?

What handkerchief ?

What handkerchief !
Why , that the Moor first gave to Desdemona :
That which so often you did bid me steal .

Hast stol'n it from her ?

No , faith ; she let it drop by negligence ,
And , to the advantage , I , being there , took't up .
Look , here it is .

A good wench ; give it me .

What will you do with 't , that you have been so earnest 
To have me filch it ?

Why , what's that to you ?


If it be not for some purpose of import 
Give 't me again ; poor lady ! she'll run mad 
When she shall lack it .

Be not acknown on 't ; I have use for it .
Go , leave me .

I will in Cassio's lodging lose this napkin ,
And let him find it ; trifles light as air 
Are to the jealous confirmations strong 
As proofs of holy writ ; this may do something .
The Moor already changes with my poison :
Dangerous conceits are in their natures poisons ,
Which at the first are scarce found to distaste ,
But with a little act upon the blood ,
Burn like the mines of sulphur . I did say so :
Look ! where he comes !


Not poppy , nor mandragora ,
Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world ,
Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep 

Which thou ow'dst yesterday .

Ha ! ha ! false to me ?

Why , how now , generall no more of that .

Avaunt ! be gone ! thou hast set me on the rack ;
I swear 'tis better to be much abus'd 
Than but to know 't a little .

How now , my lord !

What sense had I of her stol'n hours of lust ?
I saw 't not , thought it not , it harm'd not me ;
I slept the next night well , was free and merry ;
I found not Cassio's kisses on her lips ;
He that is robb'd , not wanting what is stol'n ,
Let him not know 't and he's not robb'd at all .

I am sorry to hear this .

I had been happy , if the general camp ,
Pioners and all , had tasted her sweet body ,
So I had nothing known . O ! now , for ever 
Farewell the tranquil mind ; farewell content !
Farewell the plumed troop and the big wars 
That make ambition virtue ! O , farewell !
Farewell the neighing steed , and the shrill trump ,
The spirit-stirring drum , the ear-piercing fife ,
The royal banner , and all quality ,
Pride , pomp , and circumstance of glorious war !
And , O you mortal engines , whose rude throats 
The immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit ,
Farewell ! Othello's occupation's gone !

Is it possible , my lord ?

Villain , be sure thou prove my love a whore ,
Be sure of it ; give me the ocular proof ;
Or , by the worth of mine eternal soul ,
Thou hadst been better have been born a dog 
Than answer my wak'd wrath .

Is 't come to this ?

Make me to see 't ; 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 ,

If thou dost slander her and torture me ,
Never pray more ; abandon all remorse ;
On horror's head horrors accumulate ;
Do deeds to make heaven weep , all earth amaz'd ;
For nothing canst thou to damnation add 
Greater than that .

O grace ! O heaven forgive me !
Are you a man ! have you a soul or sense ?
God be wi' you ; take mine office . O wretched fool !
That liv'st to make thine honesty a vice .
O monstrous world ! Take note , take note , O world !
To be direct and honest is not safe .
I thank you for this profit , and , from hence 
I'll love no friend , sith love breeds such offence .

Nay , stay ; thou shouldst be honest .

I should be wise ; for honesty's a fool ,
And loses that it works for .

By the world ,
I think my wife be honest and think she is not ;
I think that thou art just and think thou art not .
I'll have some proof . Her name , that was as fresh 
As Dian's visage , is now begrim'd and black 
As mine own face . If there be cords or knives ,
Poison or fire or suffocating streams ,
I'll not endure it . Would I were satisfied !

I see , sir , you are eaten up with passion .
I do repent me that I put it to you .
You would be satisfied ?

Would ! nay , I will .

And may ; but how ? how satisfied , my lord ?
Would you , the supervisor , grossly gape on ;
Behold her tupp'd ?

Death and damnation ! O !

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 ? Where's satisfaction ?
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 may have it .

Give me a living reason she's disloyal .

I do not like the office ;
But , sith I am enter'd in this cause so far ,
Prick'd to 't by foolish honesty and love ,
I will go on . 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 soul 
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 !' and then kiss me hard ,
As if he pluck'd up kisses by the roots ,
That grew upon my lips ; then laid his leg 
Over my thigh , and sigh'd , and kiss'd ; and then 
Cried , 'Cursed fate , that gave thee to the Moor !' 

O monstrous ! monstrous !

Nay , this was but his dream .

But this denoted a foregone conclusion :
'Tis a shrewd doubt , though it be but a dream .

And this may help to thicken other proofs 
That do demonstrate thinly .

I'll tear her all to pieces .

Nay , but be wise ; yet we see nothing done ;
She may be honest yet . 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 to-day 
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 .

O ! that the slave had forty thousand lives ;
One is too poor , too weak for my revenge .
Now do I see 'tis true . Look here , Iago ;
All my fond love thus do I blow to heaven :
'Tis gone .
Arise , black vengeance , from the hollow hell !
Yield up , O love ! thy crown and hearted throne 
To tyrannous hate . Swell , bosom , with thy fraught ,
For 'tis of aspics' tongues !

Yet be content .

O ! blood , blood , blood !

Patience , I say ; your mind , perhaps , may change .

Never , Iago . Like to the Pontick 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 't :
Within these three days let me hear thee say 
That Cassio's not alive .

My friend is dead ; 'tis done at your request :
But let her live .

Damn her , lewd minx ! O , damn her !
Come , go with me apart ; I will withdraw 
To furnish me with some swift means of death 
For the fair devil . Now art thou my lieutenant .

I am your own for ever .


Do you know , sirrah , where Lieutenant Cassio lies ?

I dare not say he lies any where .

Why , man ?

He is a soldier ; and for one to say a soldier lies , is stabbing .

Go to ; where lodges he ?

To tell you where he lodges is to tell you where I lie .

Can anything be made of this ?

I know not where he lodges , and for me to devise a lodging , and say he lies here or he lies there , were to lie in mine own throat .

Can you inquire him out , and be edified by report ?

I will catechize the world for him ; that is , make questions , and by them answer .

Seek him , bid him come hither ; tell him I have moved my lord in his behalf , and hope all will be well .

To do this is within the compass of man's wit , and therefore I will attempt the doing it .


Where should I lose that handkerchief , Emilia ?

I know not , madam .

Believe me , I had rather have lost my purse 
Full of cruzadoes ; 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 call'd to him .

How is 't with you , my lord ?

Well , my good lady .

O ! hardness to dissemble .
How do you , Desdemona ?

Well , my good lord .

Give me your hand . This hand is moist , my lady .

It yet has felt no age 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 here's a young and sweating devil here ,
That commonly rebels . 'Tis a good hand ,
A frank one .

You may , indeed , say so ;
For 'twas that hand that gave away my heart .

A liberal hand ; the hearts of old gave hands ,
But our new heraldry is hands not hearts .

I cannot speak of this . Come now , your promise .

What promise , chuck ?

I have sent to bid Cassio come speak with you .

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 wive ,
To give it her . I did so : and take heed on 't ;
Make it a darling like your precious eye ;
To lose't or give't 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 two hundred compasses ,
In her prophetic fury sew'd the work ;
The worms were hallow'd that did breed the silk ,
And it was dy'd in mummy which the skilful 
Conserv'd of maidens' hearts .

Indeed ! is 't true ?

Most veritable ; therefore look to 't well .

Then would to heaven that I had never seen it !

Ha ! wherefore ?

Why do you speak so startingly and rash ?

Is 't lost ? is 't gone ? speak , is it out o' the way ?

Heaven bless us !

Say you ?

It is not lost : but what an if it were ?

How !

I say , it is not lost .

Fetch 't , let me see 't .

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 receiv'd 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 ,
Shar'd dangers with you ,

The handkerchief !

In sooth you are to blame .

Away !


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 are 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 ; 'tis she must do 't :
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 
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 purpos'd 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 forc'd 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 ;
What 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 .

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 
Puff'd his own brother ; and can he be angry ?
Something of moment then ; I will 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 here in Cyprus to him ,
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 ev'n to that 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 ; 'tis a monster 
Begot upon itself , born on itself .

Heaven keep that monster from Othello's mind !

Lady , amen .

I will go seek him . Cassio , walk 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 .

Save you , friend Cassio !

What make you from home ?
How is it with you , my most fair Bianca ?
I' faith , sweet love , I was coming to your house .

And I was going to your lodging , Cassio .
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 !

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 ! 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 . You are jealous now 
That this is from some mistress , some remembrance :
No , in good troth , Bianca .

Why , whose is it ?

I know not , sweet ; I found it in my chamber .
I like the work well ; ere it be demanded ,
As like enough it will ,I'd have it copied ;
Take it and do 't ; 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 attend here ; but I'll see you soon .

'Tis very good ; I must be circumstanc'd .

Will you think so ?

Think so , Iago !

What !
To kiss in private ?

An unauthoriz'd kiss .

Or to be naked with her friend a-bed 
An hour or more , not meaning any harm ?

Naked a-bed , Iago , and not mean harm ?
It is hypocrisy against the devil :
They that mean virtuously , and yet do so ,
The devil their virtue tempts , and they tempt heaven .

If 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 't 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 ,

By heaven , I would most gladly have forgot it :
Thou said'st ,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 had seen him do you wrong ?
Or heard him say , as knaves be such abroad ,
Who having , by their own importunate suit ,
Or voluntary dotage of some mistress ,
Convinced or supplied them , cannot choose 
But they must blab .

Hath he said any thing ?

He hath , my lord ; but be you well assur'd ,
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 . Handkerchief ,confessions ,handkerchief ! To confess , and be hanged for his labour . First , to be hanged , and then to confess : I tremble at it . Nature would not invest herself in such shadowing passion without some instruction . It is not words that shake me thus . Pish ! Noses , ears , and lips . Is it possible ?Confess !Handkerchief !O devil !


Work on ,
My medicine , work ! Thus credulous fools are caught ;
And many worthy and chaste dames even thus ,
All guitless , meet reproach . What , ho ! my lord !
My lord , I say ! Othello !

How now , Cassio !

What's the matter ?

My lord is fallen into an epilepsy ;
This is his second fit ; he had one yesterday .

Rub him about the temples .

No , forbear ;
The lethargy must have his quiet course ,
If not he foams at 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 .

How is it , general ? have you not hurt your head ?

Dost thou mock me ?

I mock you ! no , by heaven .
Would you would bear your fortune like a man !

A horned man's a monster and a beast .

There's many a beast then , in a populous city ,
And many a civil monster .

Did he confess it ?

Good sir , be a man ;
Think every bearded fellow that's but yok'd 
May draw with you ; there's millions now alive 
That nightly lie in those unproper beds 
Which they dare swear peculiar ; your case is better .
O ! 'tis the spite of hell , the fiend's arch-mock ,
To lip a wanton in a secure couch ,
And to suppose her chaste . No , let me know ;
And knowing what I am I know what she shall be .

O ! thou art wise ; 'tis certain .

Stand you awhile apart ;
Confine yourself 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 promis'd . 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 , how long ago , and 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 ?
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 ?

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 and be beguil'd by one .
He , when he hears of her , cannot refrain 
From the excess of laughter . Here he comes :


As he shall smile , Othello shall go mad ;
And his unbookish jealousy must construe 
Poor Cassio's smiles , gestures , and light behaviour 

Quite in the wrong . 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 !

Look ! how he laughs already !

I never knew woman love man so .

Alas ! poor rogue , I think , i' faith , she loves me .

Now he denies it faintly , and laughs it out .

Do you hear , Cassio ?

Now he importunes him 
To tell it o'er : go to ; well said , well said .

She gives it out that you shall marry her ;
Do you intend it ?

Ha , ha , ha !

Do you triumph , Roman ? do you triumph ?

I marry her ! what ? a customer ? I prithee , bear some charity to my wit ; do not think it so unwholesome . Ha , ha , ha !

So , so , so , so . They laugh that win .

Faith , the cry goes that you shall marry her .

Prithee , say true .

I am a very villain else .

Have you scored me ? Well .

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 .

Iago beckons me ; now he begins the story .

She was here even now ; she haunts me in every place . I was the other day talking on the sea bank with certain Venetians , and thither come this bauble , and , by this hand , she falls me thus about my neck ;

Crying , 'O dear Cassio !' as it were ; his gesture imports it .

So hangs and lolls and weeps upon me ; so hales and pulls me ; ha , ha , ha !

Now he tells how she plucked him to my chamber . O ! I see that nose of yours , but not the dog I shall throw it to .

Well , I must leave her company .

Before me ! look , where she comes .

'Tis such another fitchew ! marry , a perfumed one .

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 not know who left it there ! This is some minx's token , and I must take out the work ! There , give it your hobby-horse ; wheresoever you had it I'll take out no work on 't .

How now , my sweet Bianca ! how now , how now !

By heaven , that should be my handkerchief !

An you'll come to supper to-night , you may ; an you will not , come when you are next prepared for .


After her , after her .

Faith , I must ; she'll rail in the street else .

Will you sup there ?

Faith , I intend so .

Well , I may chance to see you , for I would very fain speak with you .

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 ; 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 .

Ay , let her rot , and perish , and be damned to-night ; for she shall not live . No , my heart is turned to stone ; I strike it , and it hurts my hand . O ! the world hath not a sweeter creature ; 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 . So delicate with her needle ! An admirable musician ! O , she will sing the savageness out of a bear . Of so high and plenteous wit and invention !

She's the worse for all this .

O ! a thousand , a thousand times . And then , of so gentle a condition !

Ay , too gentle .

Nay , that's certain ;but yet the pity of it , Iago ! 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 foul in her .

With mine officer !

That's fouler .

Get me some poison , Iago ; this night : 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 .

Good , 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 trumpet is that same ?

Something from Venice , sure . 'Tis Lodovico ,
Come from the duke ; and see , your wife is with him .


God save you , worthy 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 ?

I am very glad to see you , signior ;
Welcome to Cyprus .

I thank you . How does Lieutenant Cassio ?

Lives , sir .

Cousin , there's fall'n 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 ?

May be the letter mov'd him ;
For , as I think , they do command him home ,
Deputing Cassio in his government .

Trust me , I am glad on 't .

Indeed !

My lord ?

I am glad to see you mad .

Why , sweet Othello ?

Devil !


I have not deserved this .

My lord , this would not be believ'd in Venice ,
Though I should swear I saw 't : 'tis very much ;
Make her amends , she weeps .

O 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 !
I am commanded home . Get you away ;
I'll send for you anon . Sir , I obey the mandate ,
And will return to Venice . Hence ! avaunt !

Cassio shall have my place . And , sir , to-night ,
I do entreat that we may sup together ;
You are welcome , sir , to Cyprus . Goats and monkeys !


Is this the noble Moor whom our full senate 
Call all-in-all sufficient ? is this the noble nature 
Whom passion could not shake ? whose solid virtue 
The shot of accident nor dart of chance 
Could neither graze nor pierce ?

He is much chang'd .

Are his wits safe ? is he not light of brain ?

He's that he is ; I may not breathe my censure .
What he might be , if , what he might , he is not ,
I would to heaven he were !

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 letters 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 shall observe him ,
And his own courses will denote him so 
That I may save my speech . Do but go after 
And mark how he continues .

I am sorry that I am deceiv'd in him .


You have seen nothing , then ?

Nor ever heard , nor ever did suspect .

Yes , you have seen Cassio and her 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 , my lord .

Nor send you out o' the way ?

Never .

To fetch her fan , her gloves , her mask , nor nothing ?

Never , my lord .

That's strange .

I durst , my lord , to wager 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 the serpent's curse !
For , if she be not honest , chaste , and true ,
There's 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 villanous secrets ;
And yet she'll kneel and pray ; I have seen her do 't .


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 any body come ;
Your mystery , your mystery ; nay , dispatch .


Upon my knees , what doth your speech import ?
I understand a 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-damn'd ;
Swear thou art honest .

Heaven doth truly know it .

Heaven truly knows that thou art false as hell .

To whom , my lord ? with whom ? how am I false ?

Ah ! 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 ,
Why , I have lost him too .

Had it pleas'd heaven 
To try me with affliction , had he rain'd 
All kinds of sores , and shames , on my bare head ,
Steep'd me in poverty to the very lips ,
Given to captivity me and my utmost hopes ,
I should have found in some part of my soul 
A drop of patience ; but , alas ! to make me 
The fixed figure for the time of scorn 
To point his slow and moving finger at ;
Yet could I bear that too ; well , very well :
But there , where I have garner'd 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 !
Or keep it as a cistern for foul toads 
To knot and gender in ! Turn thy complexion there ,
Patience , thou young and rose-lipp'd cherubin ;
Ay , there , look grim as hell !

I hope my noble lord esteems me honest .

O ! ay ; as summer flies are in the shambles ,
That quicken even with blowing . O thou weed !
Who art so lovely fair and smell'st so sweet 
That the sense aches at thee , would thou hadst ne'er 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 ! O 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 and the moon winks ,
The bawdy wind that kisses all it meets 
Is hush'd 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 .

What ! not a whore ?

No , as I shall be sav'd .

Is it 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 Saint Peter ,
And keep the gate of hell !


You , you , ay , you !
We have 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 .

Good 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 answer have I none ,
But what should go by water . Prithee , to-night 
Lay on my bed my wedding sheets : remember :
And call thy husband hither .

Here is a change indeed !


'Tis meet I should be us'd so , very meet .
How have I been behav'd , that he might stick 
The small'st opinion on my least misuse ?


What is your pleasure , madam ? How is it 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's the matter , lady ?

Alas ! Iago , my lord hath so bewhor'd her ,
Thrown such despite and heavy terms upon her ,
As true hearts cannot bear .

Am I that name , Iago ?

What name , fair lady ?

Such as she says my lord did say I was .

He call'd her whore ; a beggar in his drink 
Could not have laid such terms upon his callat .

Why did he so ?

I do not know ; I am sure I am none such .

Do not weep , do not weep . Alas the day !

Has she forsook so many noble matches ,
Her father and her country and her friends ,
To be call'd whore ? would it not make one weep ?

It is my wretched fortune .

Beshrew him for it !
How comes this trick upon him ?

Nay , heaven doth know .

I will be hang'd , if some eternal villain ,
Some busy and insinuating rogue ,
Some cogging cozening slave , to get some office ,
Have not devis'd this slander ; I'll be hang'd else .

Fie ! there is no such man ; it is impossible .

If any such there be , heaven pardon him !

A halter pardon him , and hell gnaw his bones !
Why should he call her whore ? who keeps her company ?
What place ? what time ? what form ? what likelihood ?
The Moor's abus'd by some most villanous knave ,
Some base notorious knave , some scurvy fellow .
O heaven ! that such companions thou'dst unfold ,
And put in every honest hand a whip 
To lash the rascals naked through the world ,
Even from the east to the west !

Speak within door .

O ! fie upon them . Some such squire he was 
That turn'd your wit the seamy side without ,
And made you to suspect me with the Moor .

You are a fool ; go to .

O good Iago ,
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 :' 
It does abhor me now I speak the word ;
To do the act that might the addition earn 
Not the world's mass of vanity could make me .

I pray you be content , 'tis but his humour ;
The business of the state does him offence ,
And he does chide with you .

If 'twere no other ,

'Tis but so , I warrant .

Hark ! how these instruments summon to supper ;
The messengers of Venice stay the meat :
Go in , and weep not ; all things shall be well .


How now , Roderigo !

I do not find that thou dealest justly with me .

What in the contrary ?

Every day thou daffest me with some device , Iago ; and rather , as it seems to me now , keepest from me 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 have heard too much , for your words and performances are no kin together .

You charge me most unjustly .

With nought but truth . I have wasted myself out of my means . The jewels you have had from me to deliver to Desdemona would half have corrupted a votarist ; you have told me she has received them , and returned me expectations and comforts of sudden respect and acquaintance , but I find none .

Well ; go to ; very well .

Very well ! go to ! I cannot go to , man ; nor 'tis not very well : by this hand , I say , it is very scurvy , and begin to find myself fobbed 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 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 . Give me thy hand , Roderigo ; thou hast taken against me a most just exception ; but yet , I protest , I have dealt most directly in thy affair .

It hath not appeared .

I grant indeed 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 especial commission come from Venice to depute Cassio in Othello's place .

Is that true ? why , then Othello and Desdemona return again to Venice .

O , no ! he goes into Mauritania , and takes away with him the fair Desdemona , unless his abode be lingered here by some accident ; wherein none can be so determinate as the removing of Cassio .

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 do ?

Ay ; if you dare do yourself a profit and a right . He sups to-night 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 twelve and one ,you may take him at your pleasure ; I will be near to second your attempt , and he shall fall between us . Come , stand not amazed at it , but go along with me ; I will show you such a necessity in his death that you shall think yourself bound to put it on him . It is now high supper-time , and the night grows to waste ; about it .

I will hear further reason for this .

And you shall be satisfied .


I do beseech you , sir , trouble yourself no further .

O ! pardon me ; 'twill do me good to walk .

Madam , good night ; I humbly thank your ladyship .

Your honour is most welcome .

Will you walk , sir ?
O ! Desdemona ,

My lord ?

Get you to bed on the instant ; I will be returned forthwith ; dismiss your attendant there ; look it be done .

I will , my lord .


How goes it now ? he looks gentler than he did .

He says he will return incontinent ;
He hath commanded me to go to bed ,
And bade 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 and frowns ,
Prithee , unpin me ,have grace and favour in them .

I have laid those sheets you bade me on the bed .

All's one . Good faith ! how foolish are our minds !
If I do die before thee , prithee , shroud me 
In one of those same sheets .

Come , come , you talk .

My mother had a maid call'd Barbara ;
She was in love , and he she lov'd prov'd mad 
And did forsake her ; she had a song of 'willow ;' 
An old thing 'twas , but it express'd her fortune ,
And she died singing it ; that song to-night 
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 Barbara . Prithee , dispatch .

Shall I go fetch your night-gown ?

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 murmur'd her moans ;
Sing willow , willow , willow :
Her salt tears fell from her , and soften'd the stones ;

Lay by these :

Sing willow , willow , willow :

Prithee , hie thee ; he'll come anon .

Sing all a green willow must be my garland .
Let nobody blame him , his scorn I approve ,

Nay , that's not next . Hark ! who is it that knocks ?

It is the wind .


I call'd my love false love ; but what said he then ?
Sing willow , willow , willow :
If I court moe women , you'll couch with moe men .

So , get thee gone ; good night . Mine eyes do itch ;
Doth that bode weeping ?

'Tis neither here nor there .

I have heard it said so . O ! these men , these men !
Dost thou in conscience think , tell me , Emilia ,
That there be women do abuse their husbands 
In such gross kind ?

There be some 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 ; might do 't as well i' the dark .

Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world ?

The world is a huge thing ; 'tis a great price 
For a small vice .

In troth , I think thou wouldst not .

In troth , I think I should , and undo 't when I had done . Marry , I would not do such a thing for a joint-ring , nor measures of lawn , nor for gowns , petticoats , nor caps , nor any petty exhibition ; but for the whole world , who would not make her husband a cuckold to make him a monarch ? I should venture purgatory for 't .

Beshrew me , if I would do such a wrong 
For the whole world .

Why , the wrong is but a wrong i' the world ; and having the world for your labour , 'tis a wrong in your own world , and you might quickly make it right .

I do not think there is any such woman .

Yes , a dozen ; and as many to the 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 't 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 , their ills instruct us so .

Good night , good night ; heaven me such usage send ,
Not to pick bad from bad , but by bad mend !

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 has given me satisfying reasons :
'Tis but a man gone : forth , my sword ; he dies .

I have rubb'd this young quat almost to the sense ,
And he grows angry . Now , whether he kill Cassio ,
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 bobb'd 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 ; there stand I in much peril .
No , he must die . But so ; I hear him coming .


I know his gait ; 'tis he . Villain , thou diest !


That thrust had been mine enemy indeed 
But that my coat is better than thou know'st ;
I will make proof of thine .


O ! I am slain .


I am maim'd for ever . Help , ho ! murder ! murder !

The voice of Cassio : Iago keeps his word .

O ! villain that I am !

It is e'en so .

O , help , ho ! light ! a surgeon !

'Tis he : O brave Iago , honest and just !
That hast such noble sense of thy friend's wrong ;
Thou teachest me . Minion , your dear lies dead ,
And your unblest fate hies ; strumpet , I come !
Forth of my heart those charms , thine eyes , are blotted ;
Thy bed lust-stain'd shall with lust's blood be spotted .

What ho ! no watch ? no passage ? murder ! murder !

'Tis some mischance ; the cry is very direful .

O , help !

Hark !

O wretched villain !

Two or three groan : it is a heavy night ;
These may be counterfeits ; let's think 't unsafe 
To come in to the cry without more help .

Nobody come ? then shall I bleed to death .

Hark !


Here's one comes in his shirt , with light and weapons .

Who's there ? whose noise is this that cries on murder ?

We do not know .

Did not you hear a cry ?

Here , here ! for heaven's sake , help me .

What's the matter ?

This is Othello's ancient , as I take it .

The same indeed ; a very valiant fellow .

What are you here that cry so grievously ?

Iago ? O ! I am spoil'd , undone by villains !
Give me some help .

O me , lieutenant ! what villains have done this ?

I think that one of them is hereabout ,
And cannot make away .

O treacherous villains !


What are you there ? come in , and give some help .

O ! help me here .

That's one of them .

O murderous slave ! O villain !


O damn'd Iago ! O inhuman dog !

Kill men i' the dark ! Where be these bloody thieves ?
How silent is this town ! Ho ! murder ! murder !
What may you be ? are you of good or evil ?

As you shall prove us , praise us .

Signior Lodovico ?

He , sir .

I cry you mercy . Here's Cassio hurt by villains .

Cassio !

How is it , brother ?

My leg is cut in two .

Marry , heaven forbid ,
Light , gentlemen ; I'll bind it with my shirt .


What is the matter , ho ? who is 't that cried ?

Who is 't that cried !

O 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 ; I have been to seek you .

Lend me a garter . So . O ! for a chair ,
To bear him easily hence !

Alas ! he faints ! O Cassio , Cassio , Cassio !

Gentlemen all , I do suspect this trash 
To be a party in this injury .
Patience awhile , good Cassio . Come , come .
Lend me a light . Know we this face , or no ?
Alas ! my friend and my dear countryman ,
Roderigo ? no : yes , sure , O heaven ! Roderigo .

What ! of Venice ?

Even he , sir : did you know him ?

Know him ! ay .

Signior Gratiano ? I cry you gentle pardon ;
These bloody accidents must excuse my manners ,
That so neglected you .

I am glad to see you .

How do you , Cassio ? O ! a chair , a chair !

Roderigo !


He , he , 'tis he .O ! that's well said ; the chair :
Some good men bear him carefully from hence ;
I'll fetch the general's surgeon .

For you , mistress ,
Save you your labour . He that lies slain here , Cassio ,
Was my dear friend . What malice was between you ?

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

What ! look you pale ? O ! bear him out o' the air 

Stay you , good gentlemen . Look you pale , mistress ?
Do you perceive the gastness of her eye ?
Nay , if you stare , we shall hear more anon .
Behold her well ; I pray you , look upon her :
Do you see , gentlemen ? nay , guiltiness will speak 
Though tongues were out of use .


'Las ! what's the matter ? what's the matter , husband ?

Cassio hath here been set on in the dark 
By Roderigo and fellows that are 'scap'd :
He's almost slain , and Roderigo dead .

Alas ! good gentleman ; alas ! good Cassio !

This is the fruit of whoring . Prithee , Emilia ,
Go know of Cassio where he supp'd to-night .
What ! do you shake at that ?

He supp'd at my house ; but I therefore shake not .

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

Fie , fie upon thee , strumpet !

I am no strumpet , but of life as honest 
As you that thus abuse me .

As I ! foh ! fie upon thee !

Kind gentlemen , let's go see poor Cassio dress'd .
Come , mistress , you must tell 's another tale .
Emilia , run you to the citadel ,
And tell my lord and lady what hath happ'd .
Will you go on afore ?

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 pluck'd the rose ,
I cannot give it vital growth again ,
It needs must wither : I'll smell it on the tree .

O balmy breath , that dost almost persuade 
Justice to break her sword ! 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 :
So sweet was ne'er so fatal . I must weep ,
But they are cruel tears ; this sorrow's heavenly ,
It strikes where it doth love . She wakes .

Who's there ? Othello ?

Ay , Desdemona .

Will you come to bed , my lord ?

Have you pray'd to-night , Desdemona ?

Ay , my lord .

If you bethink yourself of any crime 
Unreconcil'd as yet to heaven and grace ,
Solicit for it straight .

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

Well , do it , and be brief ; I will walk by :
I would not kill thy unprepared spirit ;
No ; heaven forfend ! I would not kill thy soul .

Talk you of killing ?

Ay , I do .

Then heaven 
Have mercy on me !

Amen ! with all my heart .

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

Hum !

And yet I fear you ; for you are fatal then 
When your eyes roll so . Why I should fear I know not ,
Since guiltiness I know not ; but yet I feel I fear .

Think on thy sins .

They are loves I bear to you .

Ay , and for that thou diest .

That death's unnatural that kills for loving .
Alas ! why gnaw you so your nether lip ?
Some bloody passion shakes your very frame ;
These are portents , but yet , I hope , I hope 
They do not point on me .

Peace , and be still !

I will so . What's the matter ?

That handkerchief which I so lov'd 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'rt on thy death-bed .

Ay , but not yet to die .

Yes , presently ;
Therefore confess thee freely of thy sin ;
For to deny each article with oath 
Cannot remove nor choke the strong conception 
That I do groan withal . Thou art to die .

Then Lord have mercy on me !

I say , amen .

And have you mercy too ! I never did 
Offend you in my life ; never lov'd Cassio 
But with such general warranty of heaven 
As I might love ; I never gave him token .

By heaven , I saw my handkerchief in 's hand .
O perjur'd 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 us'd 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 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 to-morrow ; let me live to-night !

Nay , if you strive ,

But half an hour !

Being done , there is no pause .

But while I say one prayer !

It is too late .


My lord , my lord ! what , ho ! my lord , 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 .

What , ho ! my lord , my lord !

Who's there ?

O ! good 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 . What's best to do ?
If she come in she'll sure speak to my wife :
My wife ! my wife ! what wife ? I have no wife :
O , insupportable ! O heavy hour !
Methinks it should be now a huge eclipse 
Of sun and moon , and that the affrighted globe 
Should yawn at alteration .

I do beseech you 
That I may speak with you , O ! good my lord .

I had forgot thee : O ! come in , Emilia :
Soft , by and by : let me the curtains draw .
Where art thou ?


What's the matter with thee now ?

O ! my good lord , yonder's foul murder done .

What ! now ?

But now , my lord .

It is the very error of the moon ;
She comes more near the earth than she was wont ,
And makes men mad .

Cassio , my lord , has kill'd a young Venetian 
Call'd 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 .

O ! falsely , falsely murder'd .

Alas ! what cry is that ?

That ! what ?

Out , and alas ! that was my lady's voice :
Help ! Help , ho ! help ! O lady , speak again !
Sweet Desdemona ! O ! sweet mistress , speak .

A guiltless death I die .

O ! who hath done this deed ?

Nobody ; I myself ; farewell :
Commend me to my kind lord . O ! farewell !


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 .

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 : O ! she was heavenly true .

Cassio did tup her ; ask thy husband else .
O ! I were damn'd beneath all depth in bell 
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 . Nay , had she been true ,
If heaven would make me such another world 
Of one entire and perfect chrysolite ,
I'd not have sold her for it .

My husband !

Ay , 'twas he that told me first :
An honest man he is , and hates the slime 
That sticks on filthy deeds .

My husband !

What needs this iterance , woman ? I say thy husband .

O mistress ! villany hath made mocks with love .
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 .

Ha !

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 the 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 twenty lives . Help ! help , ho ! help !
The Moor has kill'd my mistress ! Murder ! murder !


What is the matter ? How now , general !

O ! are you come , Iago ? you have done well ,
That men must lay their murders on your neck .

What is the matter ?

Disprove this villain if thou be'st a man :
He says thou told'st him that 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 .

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 .

O heavens forfend !

And your reports have set the murder on .

Nay , stare not , masters ; it is true , indeed .

'Tis a strange truth .

O monstrous act !

Villany ! villany ! villany !
I think upon 't , I think , I smell 't ; O villany !
I thought so then ; I'll kill myself for grief .
O ! villany , villany !

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 terrible 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 reprobation .

'Tis pitiful ; but yet Iago knows 
That she with Cassio hath the act of shame 
A thousand times committed ; Cassio confess'd it :
And she did gratify his amorous works 
With that recognizance 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 heaven ! O heavenly powers !

Come , hold your peace .

'Twill out , 'twill out ; I hold my peace , air ? no ;
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 a solemn earnestness ,
More than , indeed , belong'd to such a trifle ,
He begg'd of me to steal it .

Villanous whore !

She give it Cassio ! no , alas ! I found it ,
And I did give 't 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 !


The woman falls : sure , he has kill'd his wife .

Ay , ay ; O ! lay me by my mistress' side .

He's gone ; but his wife's kill'd .

'Tis a notorious villain . Take you this weapon ,
Which I have here recover'd from the Moor .
Come , guard the door without ; let him not pass ,
But kill him rather . I'll after that same villain ,
For 'tis a damned slave .


I am not valiant neither ,
But every puny whipster gets my sword .
But why should honour outlive honesty ?
Let it go all .

What did thy song bode , lady ?
Hark , canst thou hear me ? I will play the swan ,
And die in music :
Willow , willow , willow .
Moor , she was chaste ; she lov'd thee , cruel Moor ;
So come my soul to bliss as I speak true ;
So speaking as I think , I die , I die .


I have another weapon in this chamber ;
It is a sword of Spain , the ice brook's temper .
O ! here it is . Uncle , I must come forth .

If thou attempt it , it will cost thee dear :
Thou hast no weapon , and perforce must suffer .

Look in upon me then , and speak with me ,
Or , naked as I am , I will assault thee .


What is the matter ?

Behold ! I have a weapon ;
A better never did itself sustain 
Upon a soldier's thigh : I have seen the day ,
That with this little arm , and this good sword ,
I have made my way through more impediments 
Than twenty times your stop : but , O vain boast !
Who can control his fate ? 'tis not so now .
Be not afraid , though you do see me weapon'd ;
Here is my journey's end , here is my butt ,
And very sea-mark of my utmost sail .
Do you go back dismay'd ? 'tis a lost fear ;
Man but a rush against Othello's breast ,
And he retires . Where should Othello go ?
Now how dost thou look now ? O ill-starr'd wench !
Pale as thy smock ! 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 . Whip me , ye devils ,
From the possession of this heavenly sight !
Blow me about in winds ! roast me in sulphur !
Wash me in steep-down gulfs of liquid fire !
O Desdemona ! Desdemona ! dead !
Oh ! Oh ! Oh !


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 be'st 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 wert once so good ,
Fall'n in the practice of a damned slave ,
What shall be said to thee ?

Why , any thing :
An honourable murderer , if you will ;
For nought did I in hate , but all in honour .

This wretch hath part confess'd his villany :
Did you and he consent in Cassio's death ?

Ay .

Dear general , 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 ensnar'd 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 ?

Torments will ope your lips .

Well , thou dost best .

Sir , you shall understand what hath befall'n ,
Which , as I think , you know not . Here is a letter 
Found in the pocket of the slain Roderigo ,
And here another ; the one of them imports 
The death of Cassio to be undertook 
By Roderigo .

O villain !

Most heathenish and most gross !

Now here's another discontented paper ,
Found in his pocket too ; and this , it seems ,
Roderigo meant to have sent this damned villain ,
But that , belike , Iago in the interim 
Came in and satisfied him .

O the pernicious caitiff !
How came you , Cassio , by that handkerchief 
That was my wife's ?

I found it in my chamber ;
And he himself confess'd but even now 
That there he dropp'd it for a special purpose 
Which wrought to his desire .

O fool ! fool ! fool !

There is besides in Roderigo's letter 
How he upbraids Iago that he made him 
Brave me upon the watch ; whereon it came 
That I was cast : and even but now he spake ,
After long seeming dead , Iago hurt him ,
Iago set him on .

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 
That 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 him away .

Soft you ; a word or two before you go .
I have done the state some service , and they know't ;
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 lov'd 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 subdu'd eyes 
Albeit unused to the melting mood ,
Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees 
Their med'cinable gum . Set you down this ;
And say besides , that in Aleppo once ,
Where a malignant and a turban'd Turk 
Beat a Venetian and traduc'd the state ,
I took by the throat the circumcised dog ,
And smote him thus .


O bloody period !

All that's spoke is marr'd .

I kiss'd thee ere I kill'd thee ; no way but this ,

Killing myself to die upon a kiss .


This did I fear , but thought he had no weapon ;
For he was great of heart .

O Spartan dog !
More fell than anguish , hunger , or the sea .
Look on the tragic loading of this bed ;
This is thy work ; the object poisons sight ;
Let it be hid . 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 .