Othello (Quarto 1, 1622)

Author: William Shakespeare

Editor: Donald L. Bailey

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Othello (Modern)
- Work
- Scene
  1. 1.1
  2. 1.2
  3. 1.3
  4. 2.1
  5. 2.2
  6. 2.3
  7. 3.1
  8. 3.2
  9. 3.3
  10. 3.4
  11. 4.1
  12. 4.2
  13. 4.3
  14. 5.1
  15. 5.2
Othello (Folio 1, 1623)
- Work
- Scene
  1. 1.1
  2. 1.2
  3. 1.3
  4. 2.1
  5. 2.2
  6. 2.3
  7. 3.1
  8. 3.2
  9. 3.3
  10. 3.4
  11. 4.1
  12. 4.2
  13. 4.3
  14. 5.1
  15. 5.2
  16. The Names of the Actors
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Othello (Quarto 1, 1622)
- Work
- Scene
  1. Titlepage
  2. Epistle
  3. 1.1
  4. 1.2
  5. 1.3
  6. 2.1
  7. 2.2
  8. 2.3
  9. 3.1
  10. 3.2
  11. 3.3
  12. 3.4
  13. 4.1
  14. 4.2
  15. 4.3
  16. 5.1
  17. 5.2
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70
The Tragedy of Othello

¶Oth. Let me see your eyes --looke in my face.
¶Des. What horrible fancy's this?
¶Oth. Some of your function mistrisse,
2720Leaue procreants alone, and shut the dore,
¶Coffe, or cry hem, if any body come,
¶Your mistery, your mistery: nay dispatch. 
 Exit Em._
¶Des. Vpon my knees, what does your speech import?
¶I vnderstand a fury in your words,
2724.1But not the words.
2725Oth. Why, what art thou?
¶Des. Your wife my Lord, your true and loyall wife.
¶Oth. Come, sweare it, dam thy selfe,
Least being like one of heauen, the diuells themselues
¶Should feare to cease thee, therefore be double dambd.
¶Sweare thou art honest.
¶Des. Heauen doth truely know it.
¶Oth. Heauen truely knowes, that thou art false as hell.
¶Des. To whom, my Lord, with whom? how am I false?
2735Oth. O Desdemona, away, away, away.
¶Des. Alas the heauy day, why do you weepe?
¶Am I the occasion of those teares my Lord?
¶If haply you my father doe suspect,
¶An Instrument of this your calling backe,
2740Lay not your blame on me; if you haue left him,
¶Why I haue left him too.
¶Oth. Had it pleas'd heauen
¶To try me with affliction, had he ram'd
¶All kinds of sores, and shames on my bare head,
2745Steep'd me in pouerty, to the very lips,
¶Giuen to captiuity, me and my hopes,
¶I should haue found in some part of my soule
¶A drop of patience; but alas, to make me
¶A fixed figure, for the time of scorne,
2750To point his slow vnmouing fingers at -- oh, oh,
¶Yet could I beare that too, well, very well.
¶But there: where I haue garner'd vp my heart,
¶Where either I must liue, or beare no life,
The

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Othello (Quarto 1, 1622)