Am I the occasion of these tears, my lord? If, haply, you my father do suspect, Re-enter EMILIA. That have the office opposite to St Peter, Lay not your blame on me; if you have lost And keep the gate of hell; You! you! ay, you! him, Why, I have lost him too. Oth. Had it pleas'd heaven To try me with affliction; had he rain'd Yet could I bear that too; well, very well: Patience, thou young and rose-lipp'd cherubin; Des. I hope, my noble lord esteems me ho nest. Oth. 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 had'st ne'er been born! Des. Alas, what ignorant sin have I committed? Oth. Was this fair paper, this most goodly book, Made to write whore upon? What committed! The bawdy wind, that kisses all it meets, Des. By heaven, you do me wrong. Des. O, heaven forgive us! I took you for that cunning whore of Venice, We have done our course; there's money for Emil. Why, with my lord, madam. Emil. He that is yours, sweet lady. Des. I have none: Do not talk to me, Emilia; I cannot weep; nor answer I have none, But what should go by water. Pr'ythee, to-night, Lay on my bed my wedding sheets,-remember; And call thy husband hither. Emil. Here is a change, indeed! [Exit. Des. "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 great'st abuse? Re-enter EMILIA, with IAGO. Iago. What is your pleasure, madam? How is it with you? Des. I cannot tell. Those, that do teach young babes, Do it with gentle means, and easy tasks: Ingo. What's the matter, lady? Emil. Alas, Iago, my lord hath so bewhor'd her, Thrown such despite and heavy terms upon her, Des. Am I that name, Iago? Des. Such, as she says, my lord did say I was. Emil. 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. lago. Fye, there is no such man; it is impossible. Des. If any such there be, heaven pardon him! Emil. 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 villainous knave, Some base notorious knave, some scurvy fellow: O heaven, that such companions thou'dst un- And put in every honest hand a whip, Iago. Speak within door. Emil. O, fye upon him! some such squire he was, That turn'd your wit the seamy side without, Des. 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:- much; And his unkindness may defeat my life, The business of the state does him offence, Des. If'twere no other, Iago. It is but so, I warrant you. [Trumpets. Hark, how these instruments summon to supper! And the great messengers of Venice stay: Iago. What in the contrary? Rod. Every day thou doff st me with some device, Iago; and rather (as it seems to me now,) keep'st me from all conveniency, than suppliest me with the least advantage of hope. I will, indeed, no longer endure it: Nor am I yet persuaded, to put up in peace what already I have foolishly suffered. Iago. Will you hear me, Roderigo? Rod. 'Faith, I have heard too much; for your words, and performances, are no kin together. Iago. You charge me most unjustly. Rod. 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 acquittance; but I find none. Iago. Well; go to; very well. Rod. 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. Iago. Very well. Rod. 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. Jago. You have said now. Rod. Ay, and I have said nothing, but what I protest intendment of doing. Iago. 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. Rod. It hath not appeared. Iago. I grant, indeed, it hath not appeared; and your suspicion is not without wit and judgement. But, Roderigo, if thou hast that within 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 enjoyest not Desdemona, take me from this world with treachery, and devise engines for my life. Rod. Well, what is it? is it within reason, and compass? Iago. Sir, there is especial commission come from Venice, to depute Cassio in Othello's place. Rod. Is that true? Why, then Othello and Desdemona return again to Venice. Iago. 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. Rod. How do you mean-removing of him? Iago. Why, by making him incapable of Rod. I do not find, that thou deal'st justly Othello's place; knocking out his brains. How now, Roderigo? with me. Rod. And that you would have me do? Jago. Ay; if you dare do yourself a profit, and a right. He sups to-night with a harlot, and thither will I go to him; he knows not yet of his honourable fortune: if you will watch his going thence, (which I shall 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. Rod. I will hear further reason for this. lago. And you shall, be satisfied. [Exeunt. lia, Give me my nightly wearing, and adieu : Emil. I would, you had never seen him! That even his stubbornness, his checks, and frowns, Pr'ythee, unpin me,-have grace and favour in them. Emil. I have laid those sheets you bade me on the bed. Des. All's one:-Good father! how foolish are our minds ! If I do die before thee, pr'ythee, shroud me Emil. Come, come, you talk. Des. 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-wil low, An old thing 'twas, but it express'd her fortune, Emil. Shall I go fetch your night-gown? Emil. I know a lady in Venice, who would have walked barefoot to Palestine, for a touch of his nether lip. Des. Would'st thou do such a deed for all the world? Emil. The world is a huge thing: 'Tis a great price For a small vice. Des. Good troth, I think thou would'st not. Emil. By my 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 for measures of lawn; nor for gowns, petticoats, nor caps, nor any petty exhibition: but, for the whole world,-Why, who would not make her husband a cuckold, to make him a monarch? I should venture purgatory for't. Des. Beshrew me, if I would do such a wrong for the whole world. Emil. 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. Des. I do not think there is any such wo man. Emil. Yes, a dozen; and as many Yet we have some revenge. Let husbands know, Their wives have sense like them: they see and smell, And have their palates both for sweet and sour, To the vantage, as would store the world they Not to pick bad from bad; but, by bad, mend! play'd for. [Exeunt. ACT V. SCENE I.-A street. Enter IAGO and RODERIGO. Jago. Here, stand behind this bulk; straight will he come : Wear thy good rapier bare, and put it home; Rod. Be near at hand; I may miscarry in't. thy sword. Retires to a little distance. Rod. 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. [Goes to his stand. Iago. I have rubb'd this young quat almost to the sense, And he grows angry. Now, whether he kill Or Cassio him, or each do kill the other, Of gold, and jewels, that I bobb'd from him, It must not be: if Cassio do remain, 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. Enter CASSIO. Rod. I know his gait, 'tis he:-Villain, thou diest. Rushes from his post, and makes a pass at Cassio. Cas. That thrust had been mine enemy indeed, But that my coat is better than thou think'st; I will make proof of thine. [Draws, and wounds Roderigo, Rod. O, I am slain! [Iago rushes from his post, cuts Cassio behind in the leg, and exit. Cas. I am maim'd for ever:-Help, ho! murder! murder! [Falls. Enter OTHELLO, at a distance. Oth. The voice of Cassio:-Iago keeps his word. Rod. O, villain that I am! Oth. Hark! 'tis even so. Cas. O, help! ho! light! a surgeon! Oth. '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 fate hies apace:-Strumpet, I come : Forth of my heart those charms, thine eyes, are blotted: Lod. Hark! Gra. Here's one comes in his shirt with light and weapons. Iago. Who's there? whose noise is this, that cries on murder? Lod. We do not know. Iago. Did you not hear a cry? Cas. Here, here; for heaven's sake, help me. Iago. What's the matter? Gra. This is Othello's ancient, as I take it. Lod. The same, indeed; a very valiant fellow. Iago. What are you here that cry so grievously? Cas. Iago! O, I am spoil'd, undone by villains! Give me some help. Iago. O me, lieutenant! what villains have done this? Cas. I think, that one of them is hereabout, And cannot make away. Iago. O treacherous villains!What are you there? come in, and give some help. [To Lodovico and Gratiano. Rod. O, help me here! Cas. That's one of them. Iago. O murderous slave! O villain! [Iago stabs Roderigo. Rod. O damn'd Iago! O inhuman dog!— O! O! O! Iago. Kill men i'the dark!-Where be these bloody thieves?— How silent is this town!-Ho! murder! murder! Lod. He, sir. Iago. I cry you mercy: Here's Cassio hurt By villains. Gra. Cassio? Iago. How is it, brother? Cas. My leg is cut in two. Light, gentlemen; I'll bind it with my shirt. Enter BIANCA. Iago. Who is't that cry'd? Bian. O my dear Cassio! my sweet Cassio! O Cassio! Cassio! Cassio! Iago. O notable strumpet!-Cassio, may you suspect Who they should be, that have thus mangled you? Cas. No. Gra. I am sorry to find you thus: I have been to seek you. Iago. Lend me a garter: So.-O, for a chair, To bear him easily hence! Bian. Alas, he faints:-O Cassio! Cassio! Iago. Gentlemen all, I do suspect this trash To be a party in this injury.— Patience a while, good Cassio.-Come, come; Iago. Even he, sir; did you know him? Iago. Signior Gratiano? I cry you gentle par don; These bloody accidents must excuse my manners, That so neglected you. Gra. I am glad to see you. Iago. How do you, Cassio ?-O, a chair, a chair! Gra. Roderigo! Iago. He, he, 'tis he:-0, that's well said;the chair :- [A chair brought in. Some good man bear him carefully from hence; I'll fetch the general's surgeon.-For you, mistress, [To Bianca. Save you your labour.-He that lies slain here, Cassio, Was my dear friend: What malice was between you? Cas. None in the world; nor do I know the man. Iago. [To Bianca.] What, look you pale?— O, bear him out o' the air.[Cassio and Rod. are borne off. 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. Enter EMILIA. Emil. 'Las, what's the matter? what's the matter, husband? Iago. Cassio hath here been set on in the dark, By Roderigo, and fellows that are scap'd; He's almost slain, and Roderigo dead. Emil. Alas, good gentleman! alas, good Cassio! Iago. This is the fruit of whoring.-Pr'ythee, Emilia, Bian. What is the matter, ho? who is't that Go know of Cassio where he supp'd to-night:cry'd? What, do you shake at that? |
