Othello Page #14

Othello is a tragedy by William Shakespeare, believed to have been written in 1603. It is based on the story Un Capitano Moro by Cinthio, a disciple of Boccaccio, first published in 1565.

• Drama

								


   Des. You may (indeed) say so: For 'twas that hand that gaue away my heart

   Oth. A liberall hand. The hearts of old, gaue hands: But our new Heraldry is hands, not hearts

   Des. I cannot speake of this: Come, now your promise

   Oth. What promise, Chucke?
  Des. I haue sent to bid Cassio come speake with you

   Oth. I haue a salt and sorry Rhewme offends me: Lend me thy Handkerchiefe

   Des. Heere my Lord

   Oth. That which I gaue you

   Des. I haue it not about me

   Oth. Not?
  Des. No indeed, my Lord

   Oth. That's a fault: That Handkerchiefe Did an aegyptian to my Mother giue: She was a Charmer, and could almost read The thoughts of people. She told her, while she kept it, 'T would make her Amiable, and subdue my Father Intirely to her loue: But if she lost it, Or made a Guift of it, my Fathers eye Should hold her loathed, and his Spirits should hunt After new Fancies. She dying, gaue it me, And bid me (when my Fate would haue me Wiu'd) To giue it her. I did so; and take heede on't, Make it a Darling, like your precious eye: To loose't, or giue't away, were such perdition, As nothing else could match

   Des. Is't possible?
  Oth. 'Tis true: There's Magicke in the web of it: A Sybill that had numbred in the world The Sun to course, two hundred compasses, In her Prophetticke furie sow'd the Worke: The Wormes were hallowed, that did breede the Silke, And it was dyde in Mummey, which the Skilfull Conseru'd of Maidens hearts

   Des. Indeed? Is't true?
  Oth. Most veritable, therefore looke too't well

   Des. Then would to Heauen, that I had neuer seene't?
  Oth. Ha? wherefore?
  Des. Why do you speake so startingly, and rash?
  Oth. Is't lost? Is't gon? Speak, is't out o'th' way?
  Des. Blesse vs

   Oth. Say you?
  Des. It is not lost: but what and if it were?
  Oth. How?
  Des. I say it is not lost

   Oth. Fetcht, let me see't

   Des. Why so I can: but I will not now: This is a tricke to put me from my suite, Pray you let Cassio be receiu'd againe

   Oth. Fetch me the Handkerchiefe, My minde mis-giues

   Des. Come, come: you'l neuer meete a more sufficient man

   Oth. The Handkerchiefe

   Des. A man that all his time Hath founded his good Fortunes on your loue; Shar'd dangers with you

   Oth. The Handkerchiefe

   Des. Insooth, you are too blame

   Oth. Away.

Exit Othello.

Aemil. Is not this man iealious?
  Des. I neu'r saw this before. Sure, there's some wonder in this Handkerchiefe, I am most vnhappy in the losse of it. Aemil. 'Tis not a yeare or two shewes vs a man: They are all but Stomackes, and we all but Food, They eate vs hungerly, and when they are full They belch vs. Enter Iago, and Cassio.

Looke you, Cassio and my Husband

   Iago. There is no other way: 'tis she must doo't: And loe the happinesse: go, and importune her

   Des. How now (good Cassio) what's the newes with you?
  Cassio. Madam, my former suite. I do beseech you, That by your vertuous meanes, I may againe Exist, and be a member of his loue, Whom I, with all the Office of my heart Intirely honour, I would not be delayd. If my offence, be of such mortall kinde, That nor my Seruice past, nor present Sorrowes, Nor purpos'd merit in futurity, Can ransome me into his loue againe, But to know so, must be my benefit: So shall I cloath me in a forc'd content, And shut my selfe vp in some other course To Fortunes Almes

   Des. Alas (thrice-gentle Cassio) My Aduocation is not now in Tune; My Lord, is not my Lord; nor should I know him, Were he in Fauour, as in Humour alter'd. So helpe me euery spirit sanctified, As I haue spoken for you all my best, And stood within the blanke of his displeasure For my free speech. You must awhile be patient: What I can do, I will: and more I will Then for my selfe, I dare. Let that suffice you

   Iago. Is my Lord angry? Aemil. He went hence but now: And certainly in strange vnquietnesse

   Iago. Can he be angry? I haue seen the Cannon When it hath blowne his Rankes into the Ayre, And like the Diuell from his very Arme Puff't his owne Brother: And is he angry? Something of moment then: I will go meet him, There's matter in't indeed, if he be angry.

Exit

  Des. I prythee do so. Something sure of State, Either from Venice, or some vnhatch'd practise Made demonstrable heere in Cyprus, to him, Hath pudled his cleare Spirit: and in such cases, Mens Natures wrangle with inferiour things, Though great ones are their obiect. 'Tis euen so. For let our finger ake, and it endues Our other healthfull members, euen to a sense Of paine. Nay, we must thinke men are not Gods, Nor of them looke for such obseruancie As fits the Bridall. Beshrew me much, aemilia, I was (vnhandsome Warrior, as I am) Arraigning his vnkindnesse with my soule: But now I finde, I had suborn'd the Witnesse, And he's Indited falsely. Aemil. Pray heauen it bee State matters, as you thinke, and no Conception, Nor no Iealious Toy, concerning you

   Des. Alas the day, I neuer gaue him cause. Aemil. But Iealious soules will not be answer'd so; They are not euer iealious for the cause, But iealious, for they're iealious. It is a Monster Begot vpon it selfe, borne on it selfe

   Des. Heauen keepe the Monster from Othello's mind. Aemil. Lady, Amen

   Des. I will go seeke him. Cassio, walke heere about: If I doe finde him fit, Ile moue your suite, And seeke to effect it to my vttermost.

Exit

  Cas. I humbly thanke your Ladyship. Enter Bianca.

  Bian. 'Saue you (Friend Cassio.)
  Cassio. What make you from home? How is't with you, my most faire Bianca? Indeed (sweet Loue) I was comming to your house

   Bian. And I was going to your Lodging, Cassio. What? keepe a weeke away? Seuen dayes, and Nights? Eight score eight houres? And Louers absent howres More tedious then the Diall, eight score times? Oh weary reck'ning

   Cassio. Pardon me, Bianca: I haue this while with leaden thoughts beene prest, But I shall in a more continuate time Strike off this score of absence. Sweet Bianca Take me this worke out

   Bianca. Oh Cassio, whence came this? This is some Token from a newer Friend, To the felt-Absence: now I feele a Cause: Is't come to this? Well, well

   Cassio. Go too, woman: Throw your vilde gesses in the Diuels teeth, From whence you haue them. You are iealious now, That this is from some Mistris, some remembrance; No, in good troth Bianca

   Bian. Why, who's is it?
  Cassio. I know not neither: I found it in my Chamber, I like the worke well; Ere it be demanded (As like enough it will) I would haue it coppied: Take it, and doo't, and leaue me for this time

   Bian. Leaue you? Wherefore?
  Cassio. I do attend heere on the Generall, And thinke it no addition, nor my wish To haue him see me woman'd

   Bian. Why, I pray you?
  Cassio. Not that I loue you not

   Bian. But that you do not loue me. I pray you bring me on the way a little, And say, if I shall see you soone at night?
  Cassio. 'Tis but a little way that I can bring you, For I attend heere: But Ile see you soone
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