DESDEMONA

My Noble Father, I do perceive here a divided duty. To you I am bound for life, and education: My life and education both do learn me, How to respect you. You are the Lord of duty, I am hitherto your Daughter. But here's my Husband; And so much duty, as my Mother showed To you, preferring you before her Father: So much I challenge, that I may profess Endue to the More my Lord. Nor would I there recide, To put my Father in impatient thoughts By being in his eye. Most Grcaious Duke, To my unfolding, lend your prosperous ear, And let me find a Charter in your voice Assist my simpleness. That I love the More, to live with him, My downright violence, and storm of Fortune's, May trumpet to the world. My heart's subdued Even to the very quality of my Lord; I saw Othello's visage in his mind, And to his Honours and his valiant parts, Did I my soul and Fortune's consecrate So that (deer Lords) if I be left behind A Moth of Peace, and he go to the War, The Rites for why I love him, are bereft me: And I a heavy interim shall support By his deer absence. Let me go with him. I thank you, Valiant Cassio, What tidings can you tell of my Lord? O, but I fear: How lost you company? Alas: she ha no speech. O, fie upon thee, Slanderer. Come on, assay. There's one gone to the Harbour? I am not merry: but I do beguile The thing I am, by seeming otherwise. Come, how wouldst thou praise me? Well praised: How if she be Black and Witty? Worse, and worse. To do what? Let's meet him, and receive him. My deer Othello. The Heaven's forbid But that our Loves And Comforts should increase Even as our days do grow. What is the matter (Dear?) Be thou assured (good Cassio ) I will do All my abilities in thy behalf. O that's and honest Fellow, Do not doubt Cassio But I will have my Lord, and you again As friendly as you were. I know't: I thank you: you do love my Lord: You have known him long, and be you well assured He shall in strangeness stand no farther off, Then in a politic distance. Do not doubt hat: before Aemilia here, I give thee warrant of thy place. Assure thee, If I do vow a friendship, I'll perform it To the last Article. My Lord shall never rest, I'll watch him tame, and talk him out of patience; His Bed shall seem a School, his Board a Shrift, I'll intermingle every thing he do's With Cassio is suit: Therefore be merry Cassio, For thy Solicitor shall rather die, Then give thy cause away. Why stay, and hear me speak. Well, do your discretion. How now my Lord? I have been talking with a Suitor here, A man that languishes in your displeasure. Why your Lieutenant Cassio: Good my Lord, If I have any grace, or power to move you, His present reconciliation take. For if he be not one, that truly loves you, That erres in Ignorance, and not in Cunning, I have no judgement in and honest face. I prithee call him back. I sooth; so humbled, That he hath left partly of his grief with me To suffer with him. Good Love, call him back. But shall't be shortly? Shall't be to night, at Supper? To morrow Dinner then? Why then to morrow night, on Tuesday morn, On Tuesday noon, or night; on Wednesday Morn. I prithee name the time, but let it not Exceed three days. Infaith he's penitent: And yet his Trespass, in our common reason (Save that they say the wars must make example) Out of her best, is not almost a fault to encurre a private check. When shall he come? Tell me Othello. I wonder in my Soul What you would ask me, that I should deny. Or stand so mam'ring on? What? Michael Cassio, That came a wooing with you? and so many a time (When I have spoke of you dispraisingly) Hath taken your partly, to have so much to do To bring him in? Trust me, I could do much. Why, this is not a Boon: It's as I should entreat you wear your Gloves, Or feed on nourishing dishes, or keep you warm, Or sue to you, to do a peculiar profit To your own person. Nay, when I have a suit Wherein I mean to touch your Love indeed, It shall be full of poize, and difficult weight, And fearful to be granted. Shall I deny you? No: farewell my Lord. Aemilia come; be as your Fancies teach you: What ere you be, I am obedient. How now, my deer Othello ? Your dinner, and the generous Islanders By you invited, do attend your presence. Why do you speak so faintly? Are you not well? Why that's with watching, it'll away again. Let me but bind it hard, within this hour It will be well. I am very sorry that you are not well. Do you know Sirrah, where Lieutenant Cassio lies? Why man? Go too: where lodges he? Can any thing be made of this? Can you inquire him out? and be edified by re port? Seek him, bid him come hither: tell him, I have moved my Lord on his behalf, and hope all will be well. Where should I lose the Handkerchief, A milia ? Believe me, I had rather have lost my purse Full of Cruzadoes. And but my Noble More Is true of mind, and made of no such baseness, As jealous Creatures are, it were enough To put him to ill-thinking. Who, he? I think the Sun where he was born, Drew all such humours from him. I will not leave him now, till Cassio be Called to him. How is't with you, my Lord? Well, my good Lord. It hath felt no age, nor known no sorrow. You may (indeed) say so: For 'twas that hand that gave away my heart. I cannot speak of this: Come, now your promise. I have sent to bid Cassio come speak with you. Here my Lord. I have it not about me. No indeed, my Lord. Indeed? Is't true? Then would to Heaven, that I had never seene't? Why do you speak so startingly and rash? Bless us. It is not lost: but what and if it were? I say it is not lost. Why so I can: but I will not now: This is a trick to put me from my suit, Pray you let Cassio be received again. Come, come: you'll never meet a more suffici ent man. A man that all his time Hath founded his good Fortune's on your love; Shared dangers with you. Insooth, you are too blame. I never saw this before. Sure, there's some wonder in this Handkerchikfe, I am most unhappy in the lose of it. How now (good Cassio ) what's the news with you? Alas (thrice-gentle Cassio ) My Advocation is not now in Tune; My Lord, is not my Lord; nor should I know him, Were he in Favour, as in Humour altered. So help me every spirit sanctified, As I have spoken for you all my best, And stood within the blank of his displeasure For my free speech. You must awhile be patient: What I can do, I will: and more I will Then for my self, I dare. Let that suffice you. I prithee do so. Something sure of State, Either from Venice, or some unhatched practice Made demonstrable here in Cyprus, to him, Hath puddled his clear Spirit: and in such cases, Men's Nature's wrangle with inferior things, Though great ones are their object. It's even so. For let our finger ache, and it endues Our other healthful members, even to a sense Of pain. Nay, we must think men are not Gods, Nor of them look for such observancy As fits the Bridal. Beshrew me much, Aemilia, I was (unhandsome Warrior, as I am) Arraigning his unkindness with my soul: But now I find, I had suborned the Witness, And he's Indited falsely. Alas the day, I never gave him cause. Heaven keep the Monster from Othello's mind. I will go seek him. Cassio, walk here about: If I do find him fit, I'll move your suit, And seek to effect it to my uttermost. And what's the news, good cozen Lodovico ? Cozen, there's fallen between him, & my Lord, And unkind breach: but you shall make all well. My Lord? A most unhappy one: I would do much to atone them, for the love I bear to Cassio. My Lord. What is he angry? Trust me, I am glad on't. My Lord? Why, sweet Othello ? I have not deserved this. I will not stay to offend you. My Lord. My Lord, what is your will? What is your pleasure? What horrible Fancy's this? Upon my knee, what does your speech import I understand a Fury in your words. Your wife my Lord: your true and loyal wife. Heaven does truly know it. To whom my Lord? With whom? How am I false? Alas the heavy day: why do you weep? Am I the motive of these tears my Lord? If happily you my Father do suspect, And Instrument of this your calling back, Lay not your blame on me: if you have lost him, I have lost him too. I hope my Noble Lord esteems me honest. Alas, what ignorant sin have I committed? By Heaven you do me wrong. No, as I am a Christian. If to preserve this vessel for my Lord, From any other foul unlawful touch Be not to be a Strumpet, I am none. No, as I shall be saved. O Heaven forgive us. Faith, half a sleep. With who? Who is thy Lord? I have none: do not talk to me, Aemilia, I cannot weep: nor answers have I none, But what should go by water. Prithee to night, Lay on my bed my wedding sheets, remember, And call thy husband hither. It's meet I should be used so: very meet. How have I been behaved, that he might stick The smallest opinion on my least misuse? 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. Am I that name, Iago ? Such as she said my Lord did say I was. I do not know: I am sure I am none such. It is my wretched Fortune. Nay, Heaven does know. If any such there be, Heaven pardon him. Alas Iago, What shall I do to win my Lord again? Good Friend, go to him: for by this light of Heaven, I know not how I lost him. Here I kneel: If ere 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: or 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 do's 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. If 'twere no other. Your Honour is most welcome. My Lord. I will my Lord. He says he will return incontinent, And hath commanded me to go to bed, And bid me to dismiss you. It was his bidding: therefore good Aemilia, Give me my nightly wearing and adieu. We must not now displease him. So would not I: my love does so approve him, That even his stubborness, his checks, his frowns, (Prithee unpin me) have grace and favour. All's one: good Father, how foolish are our minds? If I do die before, prithee shrow me In one of these same Sheets. 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 Willough, And old thing 'twas: but it expressed her Fortune, And she died singing it. That Song to night, Will not go from my mind: I have much to do, But to go hang my head all at one side And sing it Like poor Brabarie : prithee dispatch. No va-pin me here, This Lodovico is a proper man. He speaks well. The poor Soul sat singing, by a Sicamour tree. Sing all a green Willough : Her hand on her bosom her head on her knee, Sing Willough, Willough, Willough. The fresh Streams ran by her, and murmured her moans Sing Willough, &c. Her salt tears fell from her, and softened the stones, Sing Willough, &c. (Lay by these) Willough, Willough. (Prithee high thee: he'll come anon) Sing all a green Willough must be my Garland. Let no body blame him, his scorn I approve. (Nay that's not next. Hark, who is't that knocks? I called my Love false Love: but what said he then? Sing Willough, &c. If I court more women, you'll couch with more men. So get thee gone, good night: mine eyes do itch: Does that boade weeping? I have herd it said so. Oh these Men, these men! Dost thou in conscience think (tell me Aemilia ) That there be women do abuse their husbands In such gross kind? Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world? No, by this Heavenly light. Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world? In, I think thou wouldst not. Beshrew me, if I would do such a wrong For the whole world. I do not think there is any such woman. Good night, good night: Heaven me such uses send, Not to pick bade, from bade; but by bade, mend. Who's there? Othello ? Will you come to bed, my Lord? I my Lord. Alack, my Lord, What may you mean by that? Talk you of killing? Then Heaven have mercy on me. If you say, I hope you will not kill me. And yet I fear you: for you're fatal then When your eyes roll so. Why I should fear, I know not, Since guiltiness I know not: But yet I feel I fear. They are Love I bear to you. That death's unnatural, that kills for loving. Alas, why gnaw you so your nether-lip? Some bloody passion shakes your very Frame: These are portent : but yet I hope, I hope, They do not point on me. I will so: What's the matter? No by my Life, and Soul: send for the man, And ask him. I, but not yet to die. Oh Heaven have mercy on me. And have you mercy too. I never did Offend you in my life: never loved Cassio, But with such general warranty of Heaven, As I might love. I never gave him Token. He found it then: I never gave it him: Send, for him hither: Let him confess a truth. What, my Lord? How? unlawfully? He will not say so. O, my fear interprets. What is he dead? Alas, he is betrayed, and I undone. Oh banish me, my Lord, but kill me not. Kill me to morrow, let me live to night. But half and hour. But while I say one prayer. Oh falsely, falsely murdered. A guiltless death, I die. No body: I my self, farewell: Commend me to my kind Lord: o farewell. What wouldst write of me, if thou shouldst praise me? These are old found Paradoxes, to make Fools laugh in the Alehouse. What miserable praise hast thou for her that's Foul, and Foolish. O heavy ignorance: thou praisest the worst best. But what praise couldst thou bestow on a desert ving woman indeed? One, that in the authorithy of her merit, did justly put on the vouch of very malice it self. O most lame and impotent conclusion. Do not learn of him Aemillia, though he be thy husband. How say you (Cassio) is he not a most profane, and li berall Counselor? Is't possible?