The Complete Works of William Shakespeare Part 409

So get thee gone; good night. Mine eyes do itch; Doth that bode weeping?

EMILIA. 'Tis neither here nor there.

DESDEMONA. I have heard it said so. O, these men, these men!

Dost thou in conscience think- tell me, Emilia- That there be women do abuse their husbands In such gross kind?

EMILIA. There be some such, no question.

DESDEMONA. Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world?

EMILIA. Why, would not you?

DESDEMONA. No, by this heavenly light!

EMILIA. Nor I neither by this heavenly light; I might do't as well i' the dark.

DESDEMONA. Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world?

EMILIA. The world's a huge thing; it is a great price For a small vice.

DESDEMONA. In troth, I think thou wouldst not.

EMILIA. In troth, I think I should, and undo't when I had done.

Marry, I would not do such a thing for a joint-ring, nor for measures of lawn, nor for gowns, petticoats, nor caps, nor any petty exhibition; but, for the whole world- why, who would not make her husband a cuckold to make him a monarch? I should venture purgatory for't.

DESDEMONA. Beshrew me, if I would do such a wrong For the whole world.

EMILIA. Why, the wrong is but a wrong i' the world; and having the world for your labor, 'tis a wrong in your own world, and you might quickly make it right.

DESDEMONA. I do not think there is any such woman.

EMILIA. Yes, a dozen, and as many to the vantage as would store the world they played for.

But I do think it is their husbands' faults If wives do fall; say that they slack their duties And pour our treasures into foreign laps, Or else break out in peevish jealousies, Throwing restraint upon us, or say they strike us, Or scant our former having in despite, Why, we have galls, and though we have some grace, Yet have we some revenge. Let husbands know Their wives have sense like them; they see and smell And have their palates both for sweet and sour, As husbands have. What is it that they do When they change us for others? Is it sport?

I think it is. And doth affection breed it?

I think it doth. Is't frailty that thus errs?

It is so too. And have not we affections, Desires for sport, and frailty, as men have?

Then let them use us well; else let them know, The ills we do, their ills instruct us so.

DESDEMONA. Good night, good night. Heaven me such uses send, Not to pick bad from bad, but by bad mend! Exeunt.

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ACT V. SCENE I.

Cyprus. A street.

Enter Iago and Roderigo:

IAGO. Here, stand behind this bulk; straight will he come.

Wear thy good rapier bare, and put it home.

Quick, quick; fear nothing; I'll be at thy elbow.

It makes us, or it mars us; think on that, And fix most firm thy resolution.

RODERIGO. Be near at hand; I may miscarry in't.

IAGO. Here, at thy hand, be bold, and take thy stand.

Retires.

RODERIGO. I have no great devotion to the deed; And yet he hath given me satisfying reasons.

'Tis but a man gone. Forth, my sword; he dies.

IAGO. I have rubb'd this young quat almost to the sense, And he grows angry. Now, whether he kill Ca.s.sio, Or Ca.s.sio him, or each do kill the other, Every way makes my gain. Live Roderigo, He calls me to a rest.i.tution large Of gold and jewels that I bobb'd from him, As gifts to Desdemona; It must not be. If Ca.s.sio do remain, He hath a daily beauty in his life That makes me ugly; and besides, the Moor May unfold me to him; there stand I in much peril.

No, he must die. Be't so. I hear him coming.

Enter Ca.s.sio.

RODERIGO. I know his gait; 'tis he. Villain, thou diest!

Makes a pa.s.s at Ca.s.sio.

Ca.s.sIO. That thrust had been mine enemy indeed, But that my coat is better than thou know'st; I will make proof of thine. Draws, and wounds Roderigo.

RODERIGO. O, I am slain!

Iago from behind wounds Ca.s.sio in the leg, and exit.

Ca.s.sIO. I am maim'd forever. Help, ho! Murther! Murther!

Falls.

Enter Oth.e.l.lo.

OTh.e.l.lO. The voice of Ca.s.sio; Iago keeps his word.

RODERIGO. O, villain that I am!

OTh.e.l.lO. It is even so.

Ca.s.sIO. O, help, ho! Light! A surgeon!

OTh.e.l.lO. 'Tis he. O brave Iago, honest and just, That hast such n.o.ble sense of thy friend's wrong!

Thou teachest me. Minion, your dear lies dead, And your unblest fate hies. Strumpet, I come!

Forth of my heart those charms, thine eyes, are blotted; Thy bed l.u.s.t-stain'd shall with l.u.s.t's blood be spotted.

Exit.

Enter Lodovico and Gratiano.

Ca.s.sIO. What, ho! No watch? No pa.s.sage? Murther! Murther!

GRATIANO. 'Tis some mischance; the cry is very direful.

Ca.s.sIO. O, help!

LODOVICO. Hark!

RODERIGO. O wretched villain!

LODOVICO. Two or three groan; it is a heavy night.

These may be counterfeits; let's think't unsafe To come in to the cry without more help.

RODERIGO. n.o.body come? Then shall I bleed to death.

LODOVICO. Hark!

Re-enter Iago, with a light.

GRATIANO. Here's one comes in his shirt, with light and weapons.

IAGO. Who's there? Whose noise is this that cries on murther?

LODOVICO. We do not know.

IAGO. Did not you hear a cry?

Ca.s.sIO. Here, here! for heaven's sake, help me!

IAGO. What's the matter?

GRATIANO. This is Oth.e.l.lo's ancient, as I take it.

LODOVICO. The same indeed; a very valiant fellow.

IAGO. What are you here that cry so grievously?

Ca.s.sIO. Iago? O, I am spoil'd, undone by villains!

Give me some help.

IAGO. O me, lieutenant! What villains have done this?

Ca.s.sIO. I think that one of them is hereabout, And cannot make away.

IAGO. O treacherous villains!

[To Lodovico and Gratiano.] What are you there?