Othello - William Shakespeare (autobiographies to read TXT) 📗

call him back. Othello Not now, sweet Desdemona; some other time. Desdemona But shall’t be shortly? Othello The sooner, sweet, for you. Desdemona Shall’t be to-night at supper? Othello No, not to-night. Desdemona To-morrow dinner, then? Othello I shall not dine at home; I meet the captains at the citadel. Desdemona

Why, then, to-morrow night; or Tuesday morn;
On Tuesday noon, or night; on Wednesday morn:
I prithee, name the time, but let it not
Exceed three days: in faith, he’s penitent;
And yet his trespass, in our common reason⁠—
Save that, they say, the wars must make examples
Out of their best⁠—is not almost a fault
To incur a private cheque. When shall he come?
Tell me, Othello: I wonder in my soul,
What you would ask me, that I should deny,
Or stand so mammering on. What! Michael Cassio,
That came a-wooing with you, and so many a time,
When I have spoke of you dispraisingly,
Hath ta’en your part; to have so much to do
To bring him in! Trust me, I could do much⁠—

Othello

Prithee, no more: let him come when he will;
I will deny thee nothing.

Desdemona

Why, this is not a boon;
’Tis 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 poise and difficult weight
And fearful to be granted.

Othello

I will deny thee nothing:
Whereon, I do beseech thee, grant me this,
To leave me but a little to myself.

Desdemona Shall I deny you? no: farewell, my lord. Othello Farewell, my Desdemona: I’ll come to thee straight. Desdemona

Emilia, come. Be as your fancies teach you;
Whate’er you be, I am obedient. Exeunt Desdemona and Emilia.

Othello

Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul,
But I do love thee! and when I love thee not,
Chaos is come again.

Iago My noble lord⁠— Othello What dost thou say, Iago? Iago

Did Michael Cassio, when you woo’d my lady,
Know of your love?

Othello He did, from first to last: why dost thou ask? Iago

But for a satisfaction of my thought;
No further harm.

Othello

Why of thy thought, Iago?

Iago

I did not think he had been acquainted with her.

Othello

O, yes; and went between us very oft.

Iago

Indeed!

Othello

Indeed! ay, indeed: discern’st thou aught in that?
Is he not honest?

Iago Honest, my lord! Othello Honest! ay, honest. Iago My lord, for aught I know. Othello What dost thou think? Iago Think, my lord! Othello

Think, my lord!
By heaven, he echoes me,
As if there were some monster in his thought
Too hideous to be shown. Thou dost mean something:
I heard thee say even now, thou likedst not that,
When Cassio left my wife: what didst not like?
And when I told thee he was of my counsel
In my whole course of wooing, thou criedst “Indeed!”
And didst contract and purse thy brow together,
As if thou then hadst shut up in thy brain
Some horrible conceit: if thou dost love me,
Show me thy thought.

Iago My lord, you know I love you. Othello

I think thou dost;
And, for I know thou’rt full of love and honesty,
And weigh’st thy words before thou givest them breath,
Therefore these stops of thine fright me the more:
For such things in a false disloyal knave
Are tricks of custom, but in a man that’s just
They are close delations, working from the heart
That passion cannot rule.

Iago

For Michael Cassio,
I dare be sworn I think that he is honest.

Othello I think so too. Iago

Men should be what they seem;
Or those that be not, would they might seem none!

Othello Certain, men should be what they seem. Iago Why, then, I think Cassio’s an honest man. Othello

Nay, yet there’s more in this:
I prithee, speak to me as to thy thinkings,
As thou dost ruminate, and give thy worst of thoughts
The worst of words.

Iago

Good my lord, pardon me:
Though I am bound to every act of duty,
I am not bound to that all slaves are free to.
Utter my thoughts? Why, say they are vile and false;
As where’s that palace whereinto foul things
Sometimes intrude not? who has a breast so pure,
But some uncleanly apprehensions
Keep leets and law-days and in session sit
With meditations lawful?

Othello

Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago,
If thou but think’st him wrong’d and makest his ear
A stranger to thy thoughts.

Iago

I do beseech you⁠—
Though I perchance am vicious in my guess,
As, I confess, it is my nature’s plague
To spy into abuses, and oft my jealousy
Shapes faults that are not⁠—that your wisdom yet,
From one that so imperfectly conceits,
Would take no notice, nor build yourself a trouble
Out of his scattering and unsure observance.
It were not for your quiet nor your good,
Nor for my manhood, honesty, or wisdom,
To let you know my thoughts.

Othello What dost thou mean? Iago

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, and 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.

Othello By heaven, I’ll know thy thoughts. Iago

You cannot, if my heart were in your hand;
Nor shall not, whilst ’tis in my custody.

Othello Ha! Iago

O, beware, my lord, of jealousy;
It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock
The meat it feeds on; that cuckold lives in bliss
Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger;
But, O, what damned minutes tells he o’er
Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves!

Othello O misery! Iago

Poor and content is rich and rich enough,
But riches fineless is as poor as winter
To him that ever fears he shall be poor.
Good heaven, the souls of all my tribe defend
From jealousy!

Othello

Why, why is this?
Think’st thou I’ld make a lie of jealousy,
To follow still the changes of the moon
With fresh suspicions? No; to be once in doubt
Is once to be resolved: exchange me for a goat,
When I shall turn the business of my soul
To such exsufflicate and blown surmises,
Matching thy inference. ’Tis not to make me jealous
To say my wife is