Internet Shakespeare Editions

About this text

  • Title: Othello (Folio 1, 1623)
  • Editor: Donald Bailey
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-466-0

    Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: Donald Bailey
    Peer Reviewed

    Othello (Folio 1, 1623)

    2965Scena Tertia.
    Enter Othello, Lodouico, Desdemona, AEmilia,
    and Atendants.
    Lod. I do beseech you Sir, trouble your selfe no further.
    Oth. Oh pardon me: 'twill do me good to walke.
    2970Lodoui. Madam, good night: I humbly thanke your
    Des. Your Honour is most welcome.
    Oth. Will you walke Sir? Oh Desdemona.
    Des. My Lord.
    2975Othello Get you to bed on th'instant, I will be re-
    turn'd forthwith: dismisse your Attendant there: look't
    be done. Exit.
    Des. I will my Lord.
    AEm. How goes it now? He lookes gentler then he did.
    2980Des. He saies he will returne incontinent,
    And hath commanded me to go to bed,
    And bid me to dismisse you.
    AEmi. Dismisse me?
    Des. It was his bidding: therefore good AEmilia,
    2985Giue me my nightly wearing, and adieu.
    We must not now displease him.
    AEmil. I, would you had neuer seene him.
    Des. So would not I: my loue doth so approue him,
    That euen his stubbornesse, his checks, his frownes,
    2990(Prythee vn-pin me) haue grace and fauour.
    AEmi. I haue laid those Sheetes you bad me on the bed.
    Des. All's one: good Father, how foolish are our minds?
    If I do die before, prythee shrow'd me
    In one of these same Sheetes.
    2995AEmil. Come, come: you talke.
    Des. My Mother had a Maid call'd Barbarie,
    She was in loue: and he she lou'd prou'd mad,
    And did forsake her. She had a Song of Willough,
    An old thing 'twas: but it express'd her Fortune,
    3000And she dy'd singing it. That Song to night,
    Will not go from my mind: I haue much to do,
    But to go hang my head all at one side
    And sing it like poore Brabarie: prythee dispatch.
    AEmi. Shall I go fetch your Night-gowne?
    3005Des. No, vn-pin me here,
    This Lodouico is a proper man.
    AEmil. A very handsome man.
    Des. He speakes well.
    AEmil. I know a Lady in Venice would haue walk'd
    3010barefoot to Palestine for a touch of his nether lip.
    Des. The poore Soule sat singing, by a Sicamour tree.
    Sing all a greene Willough:
    Her hand on her bosome her head on her knee,
    Sing Willough, Willough, Wtllough.
    3015The fresh Streames ran by her, and murmur'd her moanes
    Sing Willough, &c.
    Her salt teares fell from her, and softned the stones,
    Sing Willough, &c. (Lay by these)
    Willough, Willough. (Prythee high thee: he'le come anon)
    3020Sing all a greene Willough must be my Garland.
    Let no body blame him, his scorne I approue.
    (Nay that's not next. Harke, who is't that knocks?
    AEmil. It's the wind.
    Des. I call'd my Loue false Loue: but what said he then?
    3025Sing Willough, &c.
    If I court mo women, you'le couch with mo men.
    v v 3 So
    334 The Tragedie of Othello.
    So get thee gone, good night: mine eyes do itch:
    Doth that boade weeping?
    AEmil, 'Tis neyther heere, nor there.
    3030Des. I haue heard it said so. O these Men, these men!
    Do'st thou in conscience thinke (tell me AEmilia)
    That there be women do abuse their husbands
    In such grosse kinde?
    AEmil. There be some such, no question.
    3035Des. Would'st thou do such a deed for all the world?
    AEmil. Why, would not you?
    Des. No, by this Heauenly light.
    AEmil. Nor I neither, by this Heauenly light:
    I might doo't as well i'th'darke.
    3040Des. Would'st thou do such a deed for al the world?
    AEmil. The world's a huge thing:
    It is a great price, for a small vice.
    Des. Introth, I thinke thou would'st not.
    AEmil. Introth I thinke I should, and vndoo't when
    3045I had done. Marry, I would not doe such a thing for a
    ioynt Ring, nor for measures of Lawne, nor for Gownes,
    Petticoats, nor Caps, nor any petty exhibition. But for
    all the whole world: why, who would not make her hus-
    band a Cuckold, to make him a Monarch? I should ven-
    3050ture Purgatory for't.
    Des. Beshrew me, if I would do such a wrong
    For the whole world.
    AEmil. Why, the wrong is but a wrong i'th'world;
    and hauing the world for your labour, 'tis a wrong in
    3055your owne world, and you might quickly make it right.
    Des. I do not thinke there is any such woman.
    AEmil. Yes, a dozen: and as many to'th'vantage, as
    would store the world they plaid for.
    But I do thinke it is their Husbands faults
    3060If Wiues do fall: (Say, that they slacke their duties,
    And powre our Treasures into forraigne laps;
    Or else breake out in peeuish Iealousies,
    Throwing restraint vpon vs: Or say they strike vs,
    Or scant our former hauing in despight)
    3065Why we haue galles: and though we haue some Grace,
    Yet haue we some Reuenge. Let Husbands know,
    Their wiues haue sense like them: They see, and smell,
    And haue their Palats both for sweet, and sowre,
    As Husbands haue. What is it that they do,
    3070When they change vs for others? Is it Sport?
    I thinke it is: and doth Affection breed it?
    I thinke it doth. Is't Frailty that thus erres?
    It is so too. And haue not we Affections?
    Desires for Sport? and Frailty, as men haue?
    3075Then let them vse vs well: else let them know,
    The illes we do, their illes instruct vs so.
    Des. Good night, good night:
    Heauen me such vses send,
    Not to picke bad, from bad; but by bad, mend. Exeunt