Othello Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Othello script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Kenneth Branagh, Laurence Fishburne, and Irene Jacob movie.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Othello. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

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Othello Script



'Tis certain, then, for Cyprus.



But who shall lead our business

against the Turkish fleet?






Another of his fathom

we have none.



The fortitude of the place

is best known to him.



l take it much unkindly

that thou, lago...



...who hast had my purse

as if the strings were thine...



...shouldst know of this.



By the faith of man,

l know my price.



l am worth no worse a place.

But he, one Michael Cassio...



...a Florentine,

must his lieutenant be.



And l, of whom

his eyes had seen the proof--



--God bless the mark!--

his Moorship's ensign.



O by heaven, l rather

would have been his hangman.



Why, there's no remedy.

'Tis the curse of service.



l would not follow him then.



O, sir, content you.



l follow him

to serve my turn upon him.



We cannot all be masters, nor

all masters cannot be truly followed.



You shall mark...



...heaven is my judge,

not l for love and duty...



...but seeming so for my peculiar end.



l am not what l am.



What a full fortune does the thick-

lips owe, if he can carry it thus.



Call up her father.



Awake! Thieves! Signor!



Thieves! Look to your house,

your daughter and your bags!



Signor Brabantio!








Thieves! Look to your house, your

daughter and your bags!



Thieves! Thieves!



What is the reason

of this terrible summons?



What is the matter here?






...is all your family within?



l know you, Roderigo...



...and have charged thee

not to haunt about my doors.



ln honest plainness,

thou has heard me say...



...my daughter is not for thee.



Are your doors locked?



Why? Wherefore ask you this?



Even now, now, very now...



...an old black ram

is tupping your white ewe.



What profane wretch art thou?



l am one

that comes to tell you...



...your daughter and the Moor are

making the beast with two backs.



Thou art a villain.



You are a senator.



This thou shalt answer, Roderigo.



Ay, sir!



l will answer anything.



But l beseech you,

straight satisfy yourself:



lf 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, l say!






Get weapons, ho!



Farewell, for l must leave you.



The goodness of the night

upon you, friends.



l pray you, sir,

are you fast married?



Sir, you've been hotly called for.



Have with you.







lKeep up your bright swords,

for the dew will rust them.



O, thou foul thief!



Where hast thou stowed my daughter?



Damned as thou art,

thou hast enchanted her...



...to run from her garden to the sooty

bosom of such a thing as thou.



Lay hold upon him.



Hold your hands...



...both you of my inclining

and the rest.



Were it my cue to fight, l should have

known it without a prompter.



Good signor...



...where will you that l go

to answer this, your charge?



To prison...



...till fit time of law and course of

direct session call thee to answer.



What if l do obey?



How may the Duke

be therewith satisfied...



...whose messengers are

here about my side to bring me to him?



'Tis true,

most worthy signor.



The Duke's in council, and your

noble self, surely, is sent for.



How? The Duke in council?

ln this time of night?



Bring him away.



Valiant Othello...



...we must straight employ you

against the general Turkish foe.



Welcome, gentle signor.



We lacked your counsel

and your help tonight.



So did l yours.



Good Your Grace, pardon me.



Neither my place,

nor aught l heard of business...



...has raised me from my bed.



My daughter!



O, my daughter!






She is abused,

stolen from me and corrupted.



For nature so preposterously to err,

sans witchcraft could not.



Whoever he be

that in this foul proceeding...



...hath thus beguiled your daughter

of herself, and you of her...



...the bloody book of law you

shall yourself read...



...in the bitter letter after

your own sense.



Humbly, l thank Your Grace.



Here is the man.






What in your own part can you

say to this?



Nothing, but this is so.



Most potent, grave

and reverend signors...



...my very noble

and approved good masters...



...that l have taken away this

old man's daughter...



...'tis most true.

True, l have married her.



The very head and front of my offending

hath this extent, no more.



Rude am l in my speech...



...and little blessed

with the soft phrase of peace.



For since these arms of mine

had seven years' pith...



...till now some nine moons wasted...



...they have used their dearest action

in the tented field.



And little of this great world

can l speak...



...more than pertains to feats

of broil and battle.



Therefore, little shall l

grace my cause...



...in speaking of myself.

Yet, by your gracious patience...



...l will a round,

unvarnished tale deliver...



...of my whole course of love:



What drugs, what charms...



...what conjuration

and what mighty magic--



--for such proceedings am l

charged withal -- l won his daughter.



A maiden never bold...



...of spirit so still and quiet

that her motion blushed at herself...



...and she, in spite of nature,

to fall in love...



...with what she feared to look on!



l do beseech you, send for the lady...



...and let her speak of me

before her father.



lf you do find me foul in her report...



...the trust, the office l do hold

of you, not only take away...



...but let your sentence even

fall upon my life.



Fetch Desdemona.



Her father loved me...



...oft invited me...



...still questioned me the story

of my life from year to year...



...the battles, sieges, fortunes

that l have passed.



Even from my boyish days...



...to the moment

he bade me tell it.



Wherein l spoke of

most disastrous chances...



...of moving accidents by

flood and field...



...hair-breadth escapes

in the imminent deadly breach...



...of being taken by the insolent foe...



...and sold to slavery.



And of the cannibals that

each other eat...



...the Anthropophagi...



...and men whose heads do grow

beneath their shoulders.



These things to hear

would Desdemona seriously incline.



And with a greedy ear

devour up my discourse...



...which I observing...



...took once a pliant hour...



...and found means to draw

from her a prayer of earnest heart...



...which I would

all my pilgrimage dilate.



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 loved me

for the dangers I had passed...



...and l loved her

that she did pity them.



This only is

the witchcraft l have used.



Come hither, gentle mistress.



Do you perceive in all this company

where most you owe obedience?



My noble father...



...to you l am bound

for life and education.



My life and education both

do learn me how to respect you.



You are lord of all my duty.



l am hitherto your daughter.



But here's my husband.



And so much duty

as my mother showed to you...



...preferring you before her father...



...so much l challenge

that l may profess due to the Moor...



...my lord.



God by you! l have done.



l had rather to adopt a child

than get it.



Come hither, Moor.



l here do give thee that

with all my heart...



...which, but thou hast already...



...with all my heart l would

keep from thee.



l humbly beseech you, proceed

with the affairs of state.



The Turk, with a mighty preparation,

makes for Cyprus.






...you must away tonight.



The affair cries haste,

and speed must answer it.



Most gracious Duke....



What would you, Desdemona?



That l did love the Moor

to live with him...



...my downright violence

and scorn of fortunes...



...may trumpet to the world.



My heart is subdued even to

the utmost pleasure of my lord.



l saw Othello's visage in his mind...



...and to his honors

and his valiant parts...



...did l my soul

and fortunes consecrate.



So that, dear lords...



...if l be left behind, a moth of peace,

and he go to the war...



...the rites for which l love him

are bereft me.



And l, a heavy interim,

shall support by his dear absence.



Let me go with him.



Let her have your voice.



And heaven defend your good souls...



...that you think l will your serious

business scant for she is with me.



Be it as you shall privately determine.



At   in the morning,

here we'll meet again.



Good night to everyone.



And, noble signor...



...if virtue no delighted beauty lack...



...your son-in-law

is far more fair than black.



Look to her, Moor,

if thou hast eyes to see.



She has deceived her father

and may thee.



My life upon her faith!



Good lago, my Desdemona

must l leave to thee.



Let thy wife attend on her, and bring

them after in the best advantage.



Come, we must obey the time.






What sayest thou, noble heart?



What will l do, thinkest thou?



Why, go to bed and sleep.



l will incontinently drown myself.



lf thou dost,

l shall never love thee after.



Why, thou silly gentleman!



lt is silliness to live

when to live is a torment.









l've looked upon the world for

four times seven years...



...and l never yet found a man that

knew how to love himself.



Ere l would say l would drown myself

for the love of a guinea hen...



-...l'd change my humanity with a baboon.

-What should l do?



l 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.



We have reason

to cool our raging motions...



...our carnal stings, our

unbitted lusts...



...whereof l take this, which you call

love, to be a sect or scion.



lt cannot be!



lt is merely a lust of the blood

and a permission of the will.



Come, be a man!



Drown thyself?



Drown cats and blind puppies.



l have professed me thy friend

and l confess me...



...knit to thy deserving with cables

of perdurable toughness.



l could never

better stead thee than now.



Put money in thy purse.



Follow thou these wars.



Disguise thy features with

an usurped beard.



l say, put money in thy purse.



lt cannot be that Desdemona should

long continue her love to the Moor.



Put but money in thy purse.



When she's sated with his body,

she'll find the error of her choice.



She must have change, she must.



Fill thy purse with money.



lf sanctimony and a frail vow betwixt

an erring barbarian...



...and a super-subtle Venetian

be not too hard for my wits...



...and all the tribe of hell...



...thou shall enjoy her.



Therefore, put....



''Money in thy purse.''



A pox on drowning, huh?



'Tis 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?



Thou art sure of me.



There are many events in

the womb of time...



...which will be delivered.



Go, provide thy money.



We will have more of this tomorrow.




Where shall we meet in the morning?



-At my lodging.

-All right.



-l'll be with thee betimes.

-Go to, farewell.



Does thou hear?



What say thou?



No more of drowning, do you hear?



l am changed.



Go to, farewell.

Put money enough in your purse!



l'll sell all my land.



Thus do l ever make my fool my purse.



For l mine own gained knowledge

should profane...



...if l would time

expend with such a snipe...



...but for my sport and profit.



l hate the Moor...



...and it is thought abroad that

'twixt my sheets...



...he's done my office.



l know not if it be true...



...but l, 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....









l have it.



lt is engendered.



Hell and night...



...must bring this monstrous birth

to the world's light.



-Hail to thee, lady.

-Thank you, valiant Cassio.



Very good.

Ay, well said, whisper.



With as little a web as this,

will l ensnare...



...as great a fly as Cassio.



O, my fair warrior!



My dear Othello!



lt gives me wonder great as my content

to see you here before me.



O my soul's joy!



l cannot speak enough of this content.

lt stops me here.



lt is too much of joy.



News, friends:



Our wars are done,

the Turks are drowned!



This desperate storm

hath seen a grievous wrack...



...and sufferance

on most part of their fleet.



Worthy Montano.



How does my old acquaintance

of this isle?



Honey, you shall be

well desired in Cyprus.



l have found great love amongst them.



O, you are well tuned now!



But I'll set down the pegs that

make this music, as honest as I am.



lf thou be'st valiant -- as they say

base men being in love have then...



...a nobility in their nature

more than is native to them -- list me.



The lieutenant tonight watches

on the court of guard.



First, l must tell thee this:



Desdemona is directly in love with him.



With Cassio?



Why, 'tis not possible!



Lay thy finger thus,

and let thy soul be instructed.



Mark me. Her eye must be fed.



What delight shall she have

to look on the devil?



Her delicate tenderness has

found itself abused...



...begun to heave the gorge,

disrelish and abhor the Moor.



Her nature instructs her to it,

and compels her to some second choice.



I cannot believe that.

She is full of most blessed condition.



Blessed fig's-end!



The wine she drinks is made of grapes.



If she were blessed, she would never

have loved the Moor. Blessed pudding.



Didst thou not see her paddle

with his hand?



Didst thou not mark that?



-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.



Villainous thoughts, Roderigo!



When these mutualities

so marshal the way...



...hard at hand comes the master...



...and main exercise,

the incorporate conclusion.



But sir, be you ruled by me.

l have brought you from Venice.



Watch you with the guard tonight...



...for the command l'll lay it upon you.

l'll not be far from you.



Do you find some occasion

to anger Cassio.






Welcome, lago.

We must to the watch.



Not this hour, lieutenant.

'Tis not yet     of 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 l'll warrant her, full of game.



She is indeed perfection.






...happiness to their sheets!



Come, l have a stoop of wine...



...and here without are

a brace of Cyprus gallants...



...that would have a measure to

the health of black Othello.



Not tonight, good lago.



l have very poor and unhappy

brains for drinking.



l could well wish courtesy

would invent...



...some other custom of entertainment.



They are our friends.



But one cup?

l'll drink for you.



l have drunk a cup tonight already and

dare not task my weakness with anymore.



What, man!

'Tis a night of revels.



The gallants desire it.



Where are they?



lf l can fasten

but one cup upon him....



The purchase made...



...the fruits are to ensue...



...that profit's yet to come

between me and you.



ls your Englishman so expert

in his drinking?



Why, he drinks you with facility,

your Dane dead drunk.



He sweats not to overthrow your Almain.



And he gives your Hollander a vomit

ere the next pottle can be filled.



Health to our general!



l am for it, lieutenant...



...and l'll do you justice.



Sweet England!



Save you, friend Cassio.



Well, how is it with you, most fair...?






Let be gallantly!



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



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,

that l am drunk.



This is my ensign.



This is my right hand.



This is my left hand.



l am not drunk now.



l can stand well enough...



...and l speak well enough.



-Excellent well.

-Why, very well.



You must not think then

that l 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 Caesar

and give direction.



And do but see his vice.



But is he often thus?



'Tis evermore the prologue

to his sleep.



-What's the matter, lieutenant?

-A knave teach me my duty!



l'll beat the knave

into a twiggen bottle.



-Beat me!

-Dost thou prate, rogue?



Nay, good lieutenant.



l pray you, sir, hold your hand.



Let me go, sir, or l'll knock you

over the mazzard.



Come, come...



...you're drunk.






Nay, good lieutenant.



God's will, gentlemen!



Good lieutenant, hold!









Help, ho! Lieutenant!



God's will, lieutenant.




Hold, for your lives!



Hold, for shame!



What's the matter here?!



Are we turned Turks?!



For Christian shame,

put by this barbarous brawl.



He who stirs next

to carve for his own rage...



...holds his soul light.



He dies upon his motion.



What is the matter, masters?






...how comes it you are thus forgot?



l pray you, pardon me, sir!



l cannot speak.



Worthy Montano...



...what is 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, l am hurt to danger.



Your officer, lago, can inform you,

while l spare speech...



...of all that l do know.



Now, by heaven, my blood begins

my safer guides to rule.



On thy love l charge thee, lago.

Who began it?



lf partially affined or

leagued in office...



...thou dost deliver more

or less than truth...



...thou art no soldier.



Touch me not so near!

l had rather cut this tongue...



...than it should do offense

to Michael Cassio.



Yet to speak the truth

shall nothing wrong him.



This it is, general:



Montano and myself being in speech,

comes a fellow crying for help...



...and Cassio following him with

determined sword to execute upon him.



Sir, this gentleman steps in

to Cassio....



--but more of this matter

can l not report.



But men are men.

The best sometime forget.



Though Cassio did

some little wrong to him...



...as men in rage strike those

that wish them best...



...yet surely Cassio--



l know, lago, thy honesty and love

doth mince this matter...



...making it light to Cassio.






...he that you hurt

is of great fame in Cyprus...



...and great affinity.



l love thee...



...but nevermore be officer of mine.



What is the matter, dear?



Look, if my gentle love

be not raised up.



l'll make thee an example.



All's well now, sweeting.

Come away to bed.



Look with care about the town...



...and silence those

whom this vile brawl distracted.



Come, sweet Desdemona.



-Are you hurt, lieutenant?

-Ay, past all surgery.



-Marry, God forbid!

-l have lost my reputation.



l have lost the immortal

part of myself...



...and what remains is bestial.



My reputation, lago!



My reputation!



l thought you'd received some wound.



There's more offense in that

than in reputation.



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.



Sue to him again, and he's yours.



l would rather sue to be despised...



...than to deceive

so good a commander...



...with so slight, so drunken and

so indiscreet an officer.



He that you followed...



-...what had he done to you?

-l know not.



ls it possible?






Wine is a good

familiar creature, if it be well used.



Exclaim no more against it.



And good lieutenant...



...l think you think l love you.



l have well approved it, sir.



l'll tell you what you shall do.



Our general's wife is now the general.



Confess yourself freely to Desdemona.



lmportune her. She'll help

to put you in your place again.



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.



l protest, in the sincerity of love

and honest kindness.



l think it freely.



Good night, lieutenant.



l must to the watch.



Good night, honest lago.



How am l then a villain...



...when this advice is free l give

and honest...



...probal to thinking, and indeed

the course to win the Moor again?



His soul is so enfettered

to Desdemona's love...



...that she may make, unmake,

do what she list...



...even as her appetite shall

play the god with his weak function.



How am l then a villain

to counsel Cassio...



...to this parallel course,

directed to his good?



Divinity of hell!



When devils will the blackest sins

put on, they do suggest at first...



...with heavenly shows, as l do now.



For whiles this honest fool plies

Desdemona to repair his fortunes...



...and she for him

pleads strongly to the Moor...



...l'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 l turn her virtue...



...into pitch.



And out of her own goodness...



...make the net...



...that shall...



...enmesh them all.



How now, Roderigo?



l do follow here in the chase...



...not like a hound that hunts...



...but one that fills up the cry.



My money is almost spent.



l have been tonight

exceedingly well-cudgeled.



And l think the issue will be...



...that l 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 knowest we work by wit...



...and not by witchcraft.



And wit depends on dilatory time.



Does it not go well?



Cassio hath beaten thee.



And thou, by that small hurt...



...hath cashiered Cassio.



Content thyself awhile.



By the mass, 'tis morning.



Pleasure and action

make the hours seem short.



Retire thee awhile.



Away, l say.



Thou shalt know more hereafter.



Nay, get thee gone.



Bounteous madam...



...whatever shall become of

Michael Cassio?



-He's never anything but your servant.

-l know it.



l thank you.



Madam, here comes my lord.



-l like not that.

-What dost thou say?



Nothing, my lord.



-Madam, l take my leave.




Was not that Cassio

parted from my wife?



Cassio, my lord.



How now, my lord?



l have been talking with

a suitor here...



...a man that languishes in

your displeasure.



Who is it you mean?



Why, your lieutenant, Cassio.



Good my lord, if he be not one

that truly loves you...



...l have no judgment in an honest face.



Excellent wretch!



Perdition catch my soul,

but l do love thee!



And when l love thee not...



...chaos is come again.



-My noble lord--

-What dost thou say, lago?



Did Cassio, when you wooed

my lady, know of your love?



He did, from first to last.



Why dost thou ask?



But for a satisfaction of my thought--

No further harm.



Why of thy thought, lago?



l did not think he had been

acquainted with her.



O, yes.



And went between us very oft.







Ay, indeed.



Discernest thou aught in that?

ls he not honest?



Honest, my lord?



Honest? Ay, honest.



My lord, for aught l know.



-What dost thou think?

-Think, my lord?



''Think, my lord'' !

By heaven, he echoes me.



Thou dost mean something.



lf thou dost love me,

show me thy thought.



-My lord, you know l love you.

-l think thou dost.



And for l know

thou art full of love...



...and honesty...



...and weighest thy words

before thou givest them breath.



Therefore, these stops of thine

fright me the more.



For Cassio, l dare be sworn

l think that he is honest.



l 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, l think Cassio's

an honest man.



Nay, yet there's more in this!



l prithee, speak to me as to

thy thinkings.



As thou dost ruminate, give thy

worst of thoughts the worst of words.



l do beseech you--



Though l perchance am

vicious in my guess...



...as l confess, it is my

nature's plague to spy into abuses...



...and oft my jealousy...



...shapes faults that are not.



l entreat you then, it were not for

your quiet nor your good...



...nor for my manhood, honesty and

wisdom to let you know my thoughts.



What dost thou mean?



Good name in 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...



...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, l'll know thy thought.



You cannot, if my heart

were in your hand.



Nor shall not,

while 'tis in my custody.



O, beware, my lord, of jealousy!



'Tis the green-eyed monster

that doth mock the meat it feeds on.






Why is this?



Thinkest thou l'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.



Nor from mine own weak merits

shall l draw...



...the smallest fear or doubt of her

revolt, for she had eyes and chose me.



No, lago...



...l'll see before l doubt.

When l doubt, prove.



And on the proof,

there is no more but this:



Away at once with love or jealousy.



l am glad, for now l have reason...



...to show the love and duty

that l bear you with franker spirit.



Therefore, as l am bound,

receive it from me.



l speak not yet of proof.



Look to your wife.



Observe her well with Cassio.



Look to it.



l know our country disposition well.



ln Venice, they do

let heaven see the pranks...



...they dare not show their husbands.



Their best conscience

is not to leave it undone...



...but keep it unknown.



-Dost thou say so?

-She did deceive her father.



And when she seemed to fear your looks,

she loved them most.



-And so she did.

-Why, go to then.



But l am much to blame.



l humbly do beseech you of your pardon

for too much loving you.



l am bound to thee forever.



l see this hath dashed your spirits.



-Not a jot, not a jot.

-ln faith, l fear it has.



l hope you consider what is spoke

comes from my love.



But l do see you're moved.



l am to pray you not to strain

my speech to grosser issues...



...nor to larger reach than

to suspicion.



Should you do so, my lord...



...my speech should fall into vile

success as my thoughts aimed not at.



Cassio's my worthy friend--

My lord, you're moved.



No, not much moved!



l 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 not to enter

into a marriage...



...of her own clime, complexion

and degree...



...whereto we see in all things

nature tends--



One may smell in such

a will most rank...



...foul disproportion,

thoughts unnatural.



But pardon me. l do not in position

distinctly speak of her.



Though l may fear, her will,

recoiling to her better judgment...



...may fall to match you with

her country forms...



...and happily repent.



Farewell, farewell.



lf more thou dost perceive,

let me know more.



Leave me, lago.



My lord, l take my leave.



Why did l marry?



My lord, l would

l might entreat your honor...



...to scan this thing no farther.



Leave it to time.



Let me be thought too busy

in my fears--



--as worthy cause

l have to fear l am--



--and hold her free.



Fear not my government.



That we can call

these delicate creatures ours...



...and not their appetites!



How now, my dear Othello!



Your dinner and the generous

islanders by you invited...



...do attend your presence.



-l am to blame.

-Why do you speak so faintly?



Are you not well?



Come, l'll go with you.



l have a thing for you.



You have a thing for me?



lt is a common thing

to have a foolish wife.



O, is that all?



What will you give me for

that handkerchief?



What handkerchief?



What handkerchief?



Why, that the Moor

first gave to Desdemona...



...that which so often you did

bid me steal.



Hast stolen it from her?



No, faith.



She let it drop by negligence.



What will you do with it,

that you've been so earnest...



...to have me filch it?



Trifles light as air...



...are to the jealous confirmations

strong as proofs of holy writ.



This may do something.



My life upon her faith.



lf she be false...



...heaven mocks itself.



l'll not believe it.



Look to her, Moor,

if thou hast eyes to see.



She has deceived her father...



...and may thee.



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 sulfur.



l did say so.






Not poppy, nor mandragora...



...nor all the drowsy syrups

of the world...



...shall ever medicine thee

to that sweet sleep...



...which thou owedst yesterday.



Why, how now, general!






Be gone!



Thou hast set me on the rack.



l swear 'tis better to be much abused

than but to know it a little.



How now, my lord!



What sense had l

of her stolen hours of lust?



l saw it not, thought it not,

it harmed not me.



l found not Cassio's kisses

on her lips.



l am sorry to hear this.



l had been happy if the general camp,

pioneers and all...



...had tasted her sweet body,

so l had nothing known.



Now forever farewell the tranquil mind!



Farewell content!



Farewell the plumed troop and

wars that make ambition virtue.



O, farewell!



Othello's occupation's gone.



ls 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

been born a dog...



...than answer my waked wrath!



Make me to see it...



...or at 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!



lf 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...



...for nothing to damnation

canst thou add greater than that!



O grace!



O heaven defend me!



God buy you!

Take mine office.



To be direct and honest is not safe.



l thank you for this profit.

From hence, l'll love no friend...



...sith love breeds such offense!



Nay, stay!



-Thou shouldst be honest.

-l should be wise...



...for honesty's a fool,

and loses that it works for.



By the world,

l think my wife be honest...



...and l think that she is not.



l think that thou art just

and that thou art not.



l'll have some proof.

Would l were satisfied!



l see, sir,

you are eaten up with passion.



l do repent me that l put it to you.



-You would be satisfied?

-Would? Nay, l will.



And may. But how?

How satisfied?



Would you grossly gape on?

Behold her topped?



O, death and damnation!



lt were a tedious difficulty

to bring them to that prospect.



Damn them then!

What shall l say?



Where's satisfaction?



You would not see this...



...were they as prime as goats,

as hot as monkeys--



But yet, l say, if imputation

and strong circumstances...



...which lead directly to the door of

truth will give you satisfaction...



...you might have it.



Give me a living reason she's disloyal.



l do not like the office.



But sith l am entered in this cause...



...pricked to it by foolish honesty

and love, l will go on.



l lay with Cassio lately.



And being troubled with a raging tooth,

l 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.



ln sleep, l heard him say:



''Sweet Desdemona, let us be wary,

let us hide our loves.''



And then, sir, would he grip

and wring my hand...



...cry, ''Sweet creature!''

and then kiss me hard...



...as if he plucked kisses from

the roots upon my lips...



...then laid his leg over my thigh...



...and sighed and kissed

and cried:



''Cursed fate

that gave thee to the Moor!''



-O monstrous!

-Nay, this was but his dream.




-Nay, yet be wise...



...yet we see nothing done.



She may be honest yet.

Tell me but this:



Did you not see

a handkerchief...



...spotted with strawberries

in your wife's hand?



l gave her such a one.

'Twas my first gift.



l know not that.

But such a handkerchief...



...l'm sure it was your wife's...



...did l today see

Cassio wipe his beard with.



O, if it be that--



Where should I lose

that handkerchief, Emilia?



l know not, madam.



Believe me, l had rather lose

my purse full of crusadoes.



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.



-ls he not jealous?

-Who, he?



How is it with you, my lord?






-And how do you, my lady?

-Well, my good lord.



That handkerchief did an Egyptian

to my mother give.



She was a charmer and could almost

read the thoughts of people.



She told her while she kept it,

'twould make her amiable...



...and subdue my father entirely

to her love.



But if she lost it

or made a gift of it...



...my father's eye

should hold her loathed...



...and his spirits should hunt

after new fancies.



She dying...



...gave it me...



...and bid me, when my fate would

have me wived...



...l give it her.



l did so.



And take heed on it.



Make it a darling

like your precious eye.



To lose it or give it away...



...were such perdition

as nothing else could match.



ls it possible?



'Tis true.



There's magic in the web of it.



Then would to God l had never seen it!






Why do you speak

so startingly and rash?



ls it lost? ls it gone?

ls it out of the way?



Heaven bless us!



-Say you?

-lt is not lost.



-But what an if it were?




l say it is not lost!



Fetch it.

Let me see it.



Why, so l can, sir.

But l will not now.



This is a trick

to put me from my suit.



l pray you,

let Cassio be received again.



Fetch me my handkerchief.

My mind misgives.



Come. You'll never meet

a more sufficient man.



-The handkerchief!

-l pray you, talk me of Cassio...



...a man that all his time hath founded

his good fortunes on your love.



The handkerchief!



ln faith, you are to blame.






ls not this man jealous?



l never saw this before.



'Tis not a year or two shows us a man.



They are all but stomachs,

and we all but food.



They eat us hungrily.

And when they are full...



...they belch us.



lf l give my wife a handkerchief...



...'tis hers, and being hers...



...she may, l think,

bestow it on any man.



What if l had said

l had seen him do you wrong?



Or heard him say--



Hath he said anything?



He hath, my lord.

But no more than he'll unswear.



-What hath he said?

-Faith, that he...






l know not what he did.












With her?



With her...



...on her, what you will.



Lie with her?



Lie on her?



'Zounds, that's fulsome!



Work on, my medicine. Work!



Thus credulous fools are caught.



And many worthy and chaste dames,

even thus...



...all guiltless, meet reproach.



What ho, my lord?



My lord, l say! Othello!



What's the matter?



My lord is in an epilepsy.



This is his second fit.

He had one yesterday.



-Rub him about the temples.




The lethargy

must have his quiet course.



lf not, he foams at mouth and

breaks out to savage madness.



Look, he stirs.

Do you withdraw yourself a little.



He will recover straight.



When he is gone, l would

on great occasion speak with you.



How is it, general?



Did he confess it?



Have you not hurt your head?



Dost thou mock me?



l mock you?



No, by heaven.



Good sir, whilst you were here,

overwhelmed with your grief...



...Cassio came hither.



l shifted him away and

laid good 'scuse upon your ecstasy...



...bade him anon return and here speak

with me, the which he promised.



Do but encave yourself...



...and mark the jeers, the gibes,

and notable scorns...



...that dwell in

every region of his face.



l 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.



Marry, patience!



Now, will l question Cassio of Bianca.



He, when he hears of her...



...cannot refrain

from the excess of laughter.



How do you now, lieutenant?



As he shall smile...






...shall go mad.



You give me that same title,

whose want even kills me.



Ply Desdemona well

and you are sure on it.



Now, if this suit

lay in Bianca's power...



...how quickly should you speed!



Poor wretch!

l think, in faith, she loves me.



Look how he laughs already!



She says that you shall

marry her. Do you intend it?



l marry her? What?



l prithee, bear

some charity to my wit.



The cry goes that

you shall marry her.



-Prithee, say true.

-l am a very villain else.



This is the monkey's own giving out.



She hangs and lolls and weeps upon me.

So hales....



l see that nose of yours...



...but not that

dog l shall throw it to!



Before me!

Look, where she comes.



How is it with you,

most fair Bianca?



Whence came this?



This is some token from

a newer friend.



No, by my faith.



Why, whose is it?



l know not.

l found it in my chamber.



A likely story that you should

find it in your chamber...



...and not know who left it.



This is some minx's token.






Give it to your hobbyhorse,

wheresoever you had it.



How now, my sweet Bianca!



How now, how now!



lf you come to

supper tonight, you may.



lf you do not, come

when you are next prepared for.



After her, after her.



Faith, l must.

She'll rail in the streets else.



-Will you sup there?

-l intend to.



l may chance to see you, for

l would fain speak with you.



-Prithee, come.

-Go to, say no more.



How shall l murder him, lago?



Did you perceive

how he laughed at his vice?



And did you see the handkerchief?



Damn her!



Lewd minx!



Damn her!



A fine woman, a fair woman,

a sweet woman!



You must forget that.



Let her perish, and be damned tonight,

for she shall not live.



No, my heart is turned to stone.



l strike it,

and it hurts my hand.



But the pity of it, lago!

O, lago, the pity of it, lago!



Nay, that's not your way.



Damn her!



-Cuckold me?

-O, 'tis foul in her.



-And with mine officer!

-That's fouler.



l'd have him nine years a-killing.



Look here, lago.



All my fond love thus...



...do l blow to heaven.

'Tis gone.



Arise, black vengeance, from

thy hollow cell.



Yield up, O love, thy crown

and hearted throne to tyrannous hate.



Now, by yond marble heaven...



...in the due reverence

of a sacred vow...



...l here engage my words.



Witness, you ever-burning

lights above...



...you elements

that clip us round about.



Witness that here, lago doth give up...



...the execution of his wit, hands...






...to wronged Othello's service.



Let him command.



And to obey shall be

in me remorse...



...what bloody business ever.



l greet thy love.



Get me some poison,

lago, this night.



l'll not expostulate with her...



...lest her body and beauty

unprovide my mind again.



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 hear thee say,

Michael Cassio is not alive.



My friend is dead.

You shall know more by midnight.



Excellent. Good.



Now art thou my lieutenant.



l am your own...






God save you, worthy general!



With all my heart, sir.



The Duke and Senators

of Venice greet you.



l kiss the instrument of their pleasure.

Welcome, Signor Gratiano.



What's the news, uncle?



Good cousin Lodovico?



l am glad to see you, signor.



-Welcome to Cyprus.

-l thank you.



How does Lieutenant Cassio?



Lives, sir.






...there's fallen between him and

my lord an unkind breach.



-But you shall make all well.

-Are you sure of that?



-My lord?

-''This fail you not to do....''



He did not call.

ls there division between my lord...



-...and Cassio?

-A most unhappy one.



l would do much to atone them,

for the love l bear to Cassio.



Fire and brimstone!



My lord?



Are you wise?



What? ls he angry?



Maybe the letter moved him.



For as l think,

they do command him home...



...deputing Cassio in his government.



By my troth, l'm glad on it.






My lord?



l am glad to see you mad.



Why, sweet Othello?






l have not deserved this.



This would not be believed in Venice,

though l should swear l saw it.



'Tis very much.

Make her amends. She weeps.



lf that the earth could teem with

women's tears, each drop she falls...



...would prove a crocodile.



Out of my sight!



l would not stay to offend you.



You have seen nothing then?



-Nor ever heard, nor suspected.

-You've seen Cassio and she together.



l saw no harm. l heard each syllable

that breath made up between them.



-What! Did they never whisper?




Nor send you to fetch her fan,

her gloves, her mask, nothing?






That's strange.



l durst, my lord, to wager she

is honest, lay down my soul at stake.



lf you think other, remove your thought.

lt doth abuse your bosom.



Bid her come hither.






She says enough, but she's a simple

bawd that cannot say as much.



This is a subtle whore.



But look, she comes.



What is your pleasure?



Let me see your eyes.



Look in my face.



What horrible fancy's this?



What art thou?



Your wife, my lord.

Your true and loyal wife.



Come, swear it.



Damn thyself.



Swear thou art honest.



Heaven doth truly know it.



Heaven truly knows

thou art false as hell.



To whom, my lord?



With whom?



How am l false?



O, Desdemona!



Away, away!



Alas the heavy day!



Why do you weep?



Am l the motive

of these tears, my lord?



Had it pleased heaven to

try me with affliction...



...had they rained all kinds

of sores and shames on my bare head...



...I should have found in some

place of my soul a drop ofpatience.



But alas, there, where

I have garnered up my heart...



...where either I must live

or bear no life...



...the fountain from the which

my current runs or else dries up...



...to be discarded or keep as a cistern

for foul toads to knot and gender in!



O thou...



...who art so lovely fair...



...and smells so sweet

that the sense aches at thee.



Wouldst thou had never been born!



Alas, what ignorant

sin have l committed?



Was this fair paper

made to write ''whore'' upon?



-What committed! lmpudent strumpet!

-By heaven, you do me wrong.



-Are you not a strumpet?

-l am a Christian!



What! Not a whore?



-No, as l shall be saved.

-ls it possible?



Heaven forgive us!



l cry you mercy then.



l took you for that cunning whore of

Venice that married with Othello.



You, mistress...



...who have the office opposite

St. Peter and keeps the gate of hell!



You, you, ay, you!



We have done our course.



l pray you, turn the key,

and keep our counsel.



Am l that name, lago?



What name, fair lady?



Such as my lord did say l was.



He called her whore.



Why did he so?



l do not know.



l am sure l am none such.



Do not weep!



Do not weep.



Alas the day!



Hath she forsook

so many noble matches...



...her father, her country,

her friends to be called whore?



Would it not make one weep?



lt is my wretched fortune.



O, good lago...



...what shall l do to win my lord again?



Good friend...



...go to him...



...for by this light of heaven,

l know not how l lost him.



Here l kneel:



lf ever my will did trespass

against 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 l 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.



l cannot say ''whore.''



lt does abhor me now

l speak the word.



To do the act that might

the addition earn...



...not the world's mass

of vanity could make me!



l pray you, be content.



'Tis but his humor:



The business of the state does him

offense, and he does chide with you.



-lf it were no other--

-lt is so, l 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?

-Thou deals unjustly with me.



-What in the contrary?

-Every day thou daffest me.



l will no longer endure it.



Nor am l persuaded to put up in

peace what already l've suffered.



-Will you hear me?

-Your words and performance are not kin.



-You charge me most unjustly.

-With nought but truth!



l will make myself known to Desdemona.



lf she will return me my jewels...



...l will give over my suit

and repent my unlawful solicitation.



lf not...



...assure yourself, l will seek

satisfaction of you.



You have said now.



Ay, and said nothing but what

l protest intendment of doing.



Why, now l see...



...there's mettle in thee.



And even from now do build on thee

a better opinion than before.



Give me thy hand, Roderigo.



Thou hast taken against me a just

exception. Yet, l protest...



-...l've dealt most justly in thy affair.

-lt's not appeared.



l grant that and your suspicions

are not without wit and judgment.



But if thou hast

that in thee indeed...



...which l have greater reason to

believe now...



...l mean purpose, courage and valor,

this night show it.



lf thou the next night following

enjoy not Desdemona...



...take me from this world

and devise engines on my life.






...what is it?



This is the night that either

makes me or fordoes me quite.



Trouble yourself no further, sir.



O, pardon me.

lt will do me good to walk.






-My lord?

-Get thee to bed on the instant.



l shall return forthwith.

Dismiss your attendant there.



Look it be done.



l will, my lord.



Madam, good night.



-l humbly thank your ladyship.

-Your honor is most welcome.



Will you walk, sir?



Dismiss me?



'Twas his bidding.



l would you'd never seen him.



So would not l!






...unpin me here.



The poor soul sat sighing



By a sycamore tree



My mother had a maid called Barbary.



She was in love

and he she loved proved mad...



...and did forsake her.



She had a song of ''Willow.''



An old thing it was,

but it expressed her fortune.



And she died singing it.



That song tonight

will not go from my mind.



The poor soul sat sighing



By a sycamore tree



Sing willow, willow, willow



Her hand on her bosom



Her head on her knee



Sing willow, willow, willow



Her salt tears fell from her



And softened the stones



Sing willow, willow, willow



So get thee gone, good night.



Mine eyes do itch.

Does that bode weeping?



'Tis neither here nor there.



l 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, no question.



Wouldst thou do such a deed?



-Would not you?

-No, by this heavenly light.



Nor l by this heavenly light.



l might do it as well in the dark.



Wouldst thou do

such a deed for all the world?



The world's a huge thing.

lt is a great price for a small vice.



l think thou wouldst not.



l think l should

and undo it again when l'd done it.



For the whole world?



Who'd not make her husband

a cuckold to make him a monarch?



l should venture purgatory for it.



l don't think there

is any such woman.






...a dozen.



But l 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.



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?



ls it sport?



l think it is.



And doth affection breed it?



l think it doth.



ls it frailty that thus errs?



l think 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.



-Be near at hand, l may miscarry in it.

-Here, at thy hand...



...be bold, and take thy stand.



'Tis but a man gone.

Forth my sword, he dies!



lf Cassio do remain, he hath a daily

beauty in his life that makes me ugly.



Besides, he may unfold me to the Moor...



...there stand l in much peril.

No, he must die.



Villain, thou diest!



Help, ho!



O villain that l am!



Murder! Murder!






lt is some mischance.

The cry is very direful!






O wretched villain!



Who's there?



-Who is this that cries on murder?

-We do not know.



Did you hear a cry?



Here, for heaven's sake, help me!



Give me some help.



O, me, lieutenant!

What villains have done this?



l think one is hereabout

and cannot make away.



Treacherous villains!



What are you there?

Come and give some help!



-O, help me here!

-That's one of them!



O murderous slave!

O villain!



O, damned lago.



lnhuman dog!



Where be these bloody thieves?

Ho! Murder! Murder!



lt is the cause...



...it is the cause, my soul.



Let me not name it to you,

you chaste stars!



lt is the cause.



Yet l'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.



Who's there?



O, balmy breath, that doth almost

persuade justice to break her sword!



Be thus when thou art dead, and

l will kill thee and love thee after.



One more...



...and this the last.



So sweet was never so fatal.












Will you come to bed, my lord?



Have you prayed tonight, Desdemona?



Ay, my lord.



lf you bethink yourself of any crime...



...unreconciled to heaven,

solicit for it straight.



Alack, my lord, what

may you mean by that?



Well, do it and be brief.

l will walk by.



l'll not kill thy unprepared spirit.



Heaven forfend! l'll not kill thy soul.



-Talk you of killing?

-Ay, l do.



Then heaven...



...have mercy on me.






...with all my heart!



lf you say so, l hope

you will not kill me.



And yet l fear you.



Think on thy sins.



They are loves l bear to you.



And for that thou diest.



That death's unnatural

that kills for loving.



Peace and be still!



l will so.



What's the matter?



That handkerchief which l gave thee,

thou gave to Cassio.



No, by my life and soul!

Send for the man and ask him.



Sweet soul, take heed of perjury.

Thou art on thy deathbed.



But not yet to die.



Yes, presently!



Then Lord have mercy on me!



l say...






And have you mercy too!



l never did offend you in my life.

Never loved Cassio...



...but with such general warranty

of heaven as l might love.



l never gave him token.



By heaven, l saw my

handkerchief in his hand!



He found it then.



l never gave it him.



Send for him hither.



Let him confess a truth.



He hath confessed.



What, my lord?



That he hath used thee.










-He will not say so.




...his mouth is stopped.



Honest lago hath taken order for it.






ls he dead?






...run and tell my lord and lady

what hath happened.



Alas, he is betrayed...



...and l undone.



Out, strumpet!



Weepest thou for him to my face?



O banish me, my lord,

but kill me not!



Down, strumpet!



lKill me tomorrow.



Let me live tonight.






lf you strive....



But half an hour!



-Being done, there is no pause.

-But while l say one prayer!



lt's too late.



What? Not dead?



Not yet quite dead?



Good my lord, l would

speak a word with you.



Who's there?



l do beseech you that l may speak

with you, O, good my lord.



Yes, Emilia.



By and by.



-What is the matter with thee?

-My good lord, yonder's foul murder done.



-What, now?

-But now, my lord.



lt is the very error of the moon.



She comes nearer earth than she

was wont and makes men mad.



Cassio hath killed

a Venetian called Roderigo.



Roderigo and Cassio killed?



-No, Cassio's not killed.

-Not Cassio killed!



Then murder's out of tune,

and sweet revenge grows harsh.



What cry is that?



That? What?



Out, and alas,

that was my lady's voice!



O lady, speak again!



Sweet Desdemona!

O sweet mistress, speak!



O, who has done this deed?



'Twas l that killed her.



She turned to folly

and she was a whore.



Thou dost belie her

and thou art a devil.



She was false as water.



Thou art rash as fire to say that she

was false. She was heavenly true!



Cassio did top her!

Ask thy husband else.



l were damned beneath hell,

but that l did proceed...



...justly to this extremity.

Thy husband knew.



-My husband?

-Thy husband.



That she was false?



With Cassio.

Nay, had she been true--



-My husband?

-Ay, 'twas he that told me.



An honest man who hates the slime...



-...that sticks on filthy deeds.

-My husband?



What needs this iterance, woman?

l say thy husband!



lf he say so, may his pernicious

soul rot half a grain a day!



He lies to the heart.



She was too fond

of her filthy bargain.



Do thy worst.



This deed of thine is no more worthy

heaven than thou wast worthy her.



Help! Murder!






...you were best.



Thou hast not half the power to

harm me as l have to be hurt.



O gull!



O dolt! As ignorant as dirt!

Thou hast done a deed.



l care not for thy sword.



l'll make thee known

though l lost twenty lives.



Help! Help!



The Moor hath killed my mistress!



Murder! Murder!






How now, general?



Who cries of murder?



O, are you come, lago?



You've done well, that men lay

their murders on your neck.



Disprove this villain,

if thou be a man.



He says thou toldest him

that his wife is false.



Thou art not such a villain.

Speak, for my heart is full.



l told him what l thought...



...and told no more than what he

found himself was apt and true.



-But did you tell him she was false?

-l did.



You told a lie...



...an odious, damned lie.

Upon my a soul, a lie, a wicked lie!



She false with Cassio?

Did you say--?



With Cassio.

Go to, charm your tongue.



l will not charm my tongue.

l am bound to speak.



My mistress here lies

murdered in her bed.



Your reports have set the murder on.



Nay, stare not, masters.



lt is true indeed.






...villainy, villainy!



l think upon it...



...l think, l smell it, O villainy!



What? Are you mad?

l charge you, get you home.



Good gentlemen, let me

have leave to speak.



'Tis proper l obey him, but not now.



Perchance l will never go home.






...lay thee down and roar!



Thou has killed the sweetest

innocent that ever did lift up eye.



O, she was foul!

lago knows that she with Cassio...



...hath the act of shame

a thousand times committed.



Cassio confessed, and she gratified his

amorous works with that handkerchief.



l saw it in his hand.



O God!



O heavenly God!



Be wise...



...and get you home.



l will not.



O thou dull Moor!



That handkerchief thou

speakest of l found by fortune...



...and did give my husband.






...thou liest!



By heaven, l do not.

l do not, gentlemen. l found it!



Are there no stones in heaven

but what serves for thunder?



Precious villain!



Stop, villain!



Lay me by my mistress' side.



What did thy song bode, lady?



Hark, canst thou hear me?



l will play the swan and die in music.






...willow, willow



Moor, she was chaste.



She loved thee, cruel Moor.



So come my soul to bliss...



...as l speak true.



So speaking as l think, l die...



...l die.



Where is this rash

and most unfortunate man?



That's he that was Othello.



Here l am.



Where is that viper?



Bring the villain forth.



l look down towards his feet...



...but that's a fable.



lf that thou be a devil...



...l cannot kill thee.



l bleed, sir...



...but not killed.



l am not sorry neither.



l'd have thee live.



For in my sense...



...'tis happiness to die.



This wretch...



...hath part confessed his villainy.



Did you and he consent...



...in Cassio's death?






Dear general, l never gave you cause.



l do believe it and ask your pardon.



Will you, l pray...



...demand this demi-devil...



...why he hath thus ensnared

my soul and body?



Demand me nothing.



What you know, you know.



From this time forth...



...l never will speak word.






...thou dost best.



Forsake this room and go with us.



Your power and command is taken off...



...and Cassio rules in Cyprus.



Come, bring him away.



A word before you go.



l have done the state

some service, and they know it.



No more of that.



l pray you...



...in your letters, when you

these unlucky deeds relate...



...speak of me as l am.



Nothing extenuate...



...nor set down aught in malice.



Then must you speak of one...



...that loved not wisely,

but too well.



Of one not easily jealous,

but being wrought...



...perplexed in the extreme.



Of one whose hand,

like the base lndian...



...threw a pearl away

richer than all his tribe.



Of one whose subdued eyes...



...albeit unused to the melting mood...



...drop tears as fast as

the Arabian trees...



...their medicinal gum.



Set you down this.



And say, besides...



...that in Aleppo once...



...where a malignant

and a turbanned Turk...



...beat a Venetian...



...and traduced the state...



...l took by the throat...



...the circumcised dog...



...and smote him...






l kissed thee...



...ere l killed thee.



No way but this...



...killing myself...



...to die upon a kiss.



This l did fear, but thought

he had no weapon.



For he was great of heart.



O Spartan dog!



Look on the tragic

loading of this bed.



This is thy work.



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.




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