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  • 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)

    326The Tragedie of Othello
    Or by the worth of mine eternall Soule,
    2005Thou had'st bin better haue bin borne a Dog
    Then answer my wak'd wrath.
    Iago. Is't come to this?
    Oth. Make me to see't: or (at the least) so proue it,
    That the probation beare no Hindge, nor Loope,
    2010To hang a doubt on: Or woe vpon thy life.
    Iago. My Noble Lord.
    Oth. If thou dost slander her, and torture me,
    Neuer pray more: Abandon all remorse
    On Horrors head, Horrors accumulate:
    2015Do deeds to make Heauen weepe, all Earth amaz'd;
    For nothing canst thou to damnation adde,
    Greater then that.
    Iago. O Grace! O Heauen forgiue me!
    Are you a Man? Haue you a Soule? or Sense?
    2020God buy you: take mine Office. Oh wretched Foole,
    That lou'st to make thine Honesty, a Vice!
    Oh monstrous world! Take note, take note (O World)
    To be direct and honest, is not safe.
    I thanke you for this profit, and from hence
    2025Ile loue no Friend, sith Loue breeds such offence.
    Oth. Nay stay: thou should'st be honest.
    Iago. I should be wise; for Honestie's a Foole,
    And looses that it workes for.
    Oth. By the World,
    2030I thinke my Wife be honest, and thinke she is not:
    I thinke that thou art iust, and thinke thou art not:
    Ile haue some proofe. My name that was as fresh
    As Dians Visage, is now begrim'd and blacke
    As mine owne face. If there be Cords, or Kniues,
    2035Poyson, or Fire, or suffocating streames,
    Ile not indure it. Would I were satisfied.
    Iago. I see you are eaten vp with Passion:
    I do repent me, that I put it to you.
    You would be satisfied?
    2040Oth. Would? Nay, and I will.
    Iago. And may: but how? How satisfied, my Lord?
    Would you the super-vision grossely gape on?
    Behold her top'd?
    Oth. Death, and damnation. Oh!
    2045Iago. It were a tedious difficulty, I thinke,
    To bring them to that Prospect: Damne them then,
    If euer mortall eyes do see them boulster
    More then their owne. What then? How then?
    What shall I say? Where's Satisfaction?
    2050It is impossible you should see this,
    Were they as prime as Goates, as hot as Monkeyes,
    As salt as Wolues in pride, and Fooles as grosse
    As Ignorance, made drunke. But yet, I say,
    If imputation, and strong circumstances,
    2055Which leade directly to the doore of Truth,
    Will giue you satisfaction, you might haue't.
    Oth. Giue me a liuing reason she's disloyall.
    Iago. I do not like the Office.
    But sith I am entred in this cause so farre
    2060(Prick'd too't by foolish Honesty, and Loue)
    I will go on. I lay with Cassio lately,
    And being troubled with a raging tooth,
    I could not sleepe. There are a kinde of men,
    So loose of Soule, that in their sleepes will mutter
    2065Their Affayres: one of this kinde is Cassio:
    In sleepe I heard him say, sweet Desdemona,
    Let vs be wary, let vs hide our Loues,
    And then (Sir) would he gripe, and wring my hand:
    Cry, oh sweet Creature: then kisse me hard,

    2070As if he pluckt vp kisses by the rootes,
    That grew vpon my lippes, laid his Leg ore my Thigh,
    And sigh, and kisse, and then cry cursed Fate,
    That gaue thee to the Moore.
    Oth. O monstrous! monstrous!
    2075Iago. Nay, this was but his Dreame.
    Oth. But this denoted a fore-gone conclusion,
    'Tis a shrew'd doubt, though it be but a Dreame.
    Iago, And this may helpe to thicken other proofes,
    That do demonstrate thinly.
    2080Oth. Ile teare her all to peeces.
    Iago. Nay yet be wise; yet we see nothing done,
    She may be honest yet: Tell me but this,
    Haue you not sometimes seene a Handkerchiefe
    Spotted with Strawberries, in your wiues hand?
    2085Oth. I gaue her such a one: 'twas my first gift.
    Iago. I know not that: but such a Handkerchiefe
    (I am sure it was your wiues) did I to day
    See Cassio wipe his Beard with.
    Oth. If it be that.
    2090Iago. If it be that, or any, it was hers.
    It speakes against her with the other proofes.
    Othel. O that the Slaue had forty thousand liues:
    One is too poore, too weake for my reuenge.
    Now do I see 'tis true. Looke heere Iago,
    2095All my fond loue thus do I blow to Heauen. 'Tis gone,
    Arise blacke vengeance, from the hollow hell,
    Yeeld vp (O Loue) thy Crowne, and hearted Throne
    To tyrannous Hate. Swell bosome with thy fraught,
    For 'tis of Aspickes tongues.
    2100Iago. Yet be content.
    Oth. Oh blood, blood, blood.
    Iago. Patience I say: your minde may change.
    Oth. Neuer Iago. Like to the Ponticke Sea,
    Whose Icie Current, and compulsiue course,
    2105Neu'r keepes retyring ebbe, but keepes due on
    To the Proponticke, and the Hellespont:
    Euen so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace
    Shall neu'r looke backe, neu'r ebbe to humble Loue,
    Till that a capeable, and wide Reuenge
    2110Swallow them vp. Now by yond Marble Heauen,
    In the due reuerence of a Sacred vow,
    I heere engage my words.
    Iago. Do not rise yet:
    Witnesse you euer-burning Lights aboue,
    2115You Elements, that clip vs round about,
    Witnesse that heere Iago doth giue vp
    The execution of his wit, hands, heart,
    To wrong'd Othello's Seruice. Let him command,
    And to obey shall be in me remorse,
    2120What bloody businesse euer.
    Oth. I greet thy loue,
    Not with vaine thanks, but with acceptance bounteous,
    And will vpon the instant put thee too't.
    Within these three dayes let me heare thee say,
    2125That Cassio's not aliue.
    Iago. My Friend is dead:
    'Tis done at your Request.
    But let her liue.
    Oth. Damne her lewde Minx:
    2130O damne her, damne her.
    Come go with me a-part, I will withdraw
    To furnish me with some swift meanes of death
    For the faire Diuell.
    Now art thou my Lieutenant.
    2135Iago. I am your owne for euer. Exeunt.
    Scena
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