SCENE II.
Another apartment in the castle.
Enter Othello, and Æmilia.
Oth.
You have seen nothing then?
Æmil.
Nor ever heard; nor ever did suspect.
Oth.
Yes, you have seen Cassio and she together.
Æmil.
But then I saw no harm; and then I heard
Each syllable, that breath made up between them.
Oth.
What, did they never whisper?
Æmil.
Never, my lord.
Oth.
Nor send you out o' the way?
Æmil.
Never.
Oth.
To fetch her fan, her gloves, her mask, nor nothing?
Æmil.
Never, my lord.
Oth.
That's strange.
Æmil.
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 hath 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.
-- 580 --
Oth.
Bid her come hither;—go.—
[Exit Æmilia.
She says enough;—yet she's a simple bawd,
That cannot say as much. This is a subtle whore,
A closet lock and key of villainous secrets:
And yet she'll kneel, and pray; I have seen her do't.
Re-enter Æmilia, with Desdemona.
Des.
My lord, what is your will?
Oth.
Pray, chuck, come hither.
Des.
What is your pleasure?
Oth.
Let me see your eyes;
Look in my face.
Des.
What horrible fancy's this?
Oth. [To Æmilia.]
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.
[Exit Æmilia.
Des.
Upon my knees, what doth your speech import?
I understand a fury in your words,
2 noteBut not the words.
Oth.
Why, what art thou?
Des.
Your wife, my lord;
Your true and loyal wife.
Oth.
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.
Des.
Heaven doth truly know it.
Oth.
Heaven truly knows, that thou art false as hell.
Des.
To whom, my lord? With whom? How am I false?
-- 581 --
Oth.
O Desdemona!—away! away! away!
Des.
Alas, the heavy day!—Why do you weep?
Am I the occasion 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.
Oth.
Had it pleas'd heaven
To try me with affliction; had he rain'd
All kind 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 place of my soul
A drop of patience: but (alas!) to make me
A fixed figure, for the 3 note
time of scorn
-- 582 --
To point his slow unmoving finger at,—
O! O!
Yet could I bear that too; well, very well:
But there, where I have 4 notegarner'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!—5 note
turn thy complexion there!
Patience, thou young and rose-lipp'd cherubim;
Ay, there, look grim as hell!
Des.
I hope, my noble lord esteems me honest.
Oth.
O, ay; as summer flies are in the shambles,
That quicken even with blowing. 6 note
O thou weed,
-- 583 --
Who art so lovely fair, and smell'st so sweet,
That the sense aches at thee,—'Would, thou hadst ne'er been born!
Des.
Alas, what ignorant sin have I committed?
Oth.
Was this fair paper7 note
, this most goodly book,
Made to write whore upon? What committed!
Committed8 note
!—O thou public commoner!
I should make very forges of my cheeks,
That would to cinders burn up modesty,
Did I but speak thy deed.—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!
Des.
By heaven, you do me wrong.
Oth.
Are not you a strumpet?
-- 584 --
Des.
No, as I am a christian:
If to preserve this vessel for my lord, 9Q1258
From any other9 note foul unlawful touch,
Be—not to be a strumpet, I am none.
Oth.
What, not a whore?
Des.
No, as I shall be saved.
Oth.
Is it possible?
Des.
O, heaven forgive us!
Oth.
I cry you mercy, then;
I took you for that cunning whore of Venice,
That married with Othello.—You, mistress,
Enter Æmilia.
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.
[Exit.
Æmil.
Alas, what does this gentleman conceive?—
How do you, madam? how do you, my good lady?
Des.
'Faith, half asleep.
Æmil.
Good madam, what's the matter with my lord?
Des.
With who?
Æmil.
With my lord, madam?
Des.
Who is thy lord1 note?
Æmil.
He that is yours, sweet lady.
Des.
I have none: Do not talk to me, Æmilia;
I cannot weep; nor answer have I none,
But what should go by water. Pr'ythee, to-night
-- 585 --
Lay on my bed my wedding sheets,—remember;—
And call thy husband hither.
Æmil.
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
2 note
The small'st opinion on my great'st abuse.
Enter Iago, with Æmilia.
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:
He might have chid me so; for, in good faith,
I am a child to chiding.
Iago.
What is the matter, lady?
Æmil.
Alas, Iago, my lord hath so bewhor'd her,
Thrown such despight and heavy terms upon her,
As true hearts cannot bear.
Des.
Am I that name, Iago?
Iago.
What name, fair lady?
Des.
Such as, she says, my lord did say I was.
Æmil.
He call'd her, whore; a beggar, in his drink,
Could not have laid such terms3 note
upon his callet. 9Q1259
-- 586 --
Iago.
Why did he so?
Des.
I do not know; I am sure, I am none such.
Iago.
Do not weep, do not weep; Alas, the day!
Æmil.
Hath 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?
Des.
It is my wretched fortune.
Iago.
Beshrew him for it!
How comes this trick upon him?
Des.
Nay, heaven doth know.
Æmil.
I will be hang'd, if some eternal villain,
Some busy and insinuating rogue,
Some cogging cozening slave, to get some office,
Has not devis'd this slander; I'll be hang'd else.
Iago.
Fie, there is no such man; it is impossible.
Des.
If any such there be, heaven pardon him!
Æmil.
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 4 notenotorious knave, some scurvy fellow:—
O, heaven, that such companions5 note
thoud'st unfold;
And put in every honest hand a whip,
To lash the rascal naked through the world,
Even from the east to the west!
-- 587 --
Iago.
6 noteSpeak within door.
Æmil.
O, fie upon him! some such squire he was,
That turn'd your wit 7 notethe seamy side without,
And made you to suspect me with the Moor.
Iago.
You are a fool; go to.
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 kneel8 note:—
If e'er my will did trespass 'gainst his love,
Either in discourse, or thought9 note, 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.
Iago.
I pray you, be content; 'tis but his humour;
The business of the state does him offence,
And he does 1 notechide with you.
Des.
If 'twere no other,—
Iago.
It is but so, I warrant you.
[Trumpets.
Hark, how these instruments summon to supper!
-- 588 --
2 note
And the great messengers of Venice stay:
Go in, and weep not; all things shall be well.
[Exeunt Desdemona, and Æmilia.
Enter Roderigo.
How now, Roderigo?
Rod.
I do not find, that thou deal'st justly with me.
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 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.
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 hath receiv'd
them, and return'd me expectations and comforts
of sudden respect 3 noteand acquaintance; 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 fobb'd 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
-- 589 --
my jewels, I will give over my suit, and repent my
unlawful solicitation; if not, assure yourself, I will
seek satisfaction of you.
Iago.
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 appear'd.
Iago.
I grant, indeed, it hath not appear'd; and
your suspicion is not without wit and judgment. 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
shew 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 taketh
away with him the fair Desdemona, unless his abode
be linger'd 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 uncapable of Othello's
place; knocking out his brains.
Rod.
And that you would have me to do?
Iago.
Ay; if you dare do yourself a profit, and a
right. He sups to-night with a harlot, and thither
-- 590 --
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 amaz'd at it, but go along with
me; I will shew 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.
Iago.
And you shall be satisfied.
[Exeunt.
Samuel Johnson [1778], The plays of William Shakspeare. In ten volumes. With the corrections and illustrations of various commentators; to which are added notes by Samuel Johnson and George Steevens. The second edition, Revised and Augmented (Printed for C. Bathurst [and] W. Strahan [etc.], London) [word count] [S10901].
