Othello and Iago: the temptation scene

OthelloHa! ha! false to me?

IagoWhy, how now, general? No more of that.

OthelloAvaunt! be gone! Thou hast set me on the rack. I swear ’tis better to be much abus’d Than but to know’t a little.

IagoHow now, my lord?

OthelloWhat sense had I of her stol’n hours of lust? I saw’t not, thought it not, it harm’d not me. I slept the next night well, was free and merry; I found not Cassio’s kisses on her lips. He that is robb’d, not wanting what is stol’n, Let him not know’t, and he’s not robb’d at all.

IagoI am sorry to hear this.

OthelloI had been happy if the general camp, Pioners and all, had tasted her sweet body, So I had nothing known. O, now, for ever Farewell the tranquil mind! Farewell content! Farewell the plumed troops and the big wars That make ambition virtue! O, farewell, Farewell the neighing steed and the shrill trump, The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife, The royal banner, and all quality, Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war! And, O you mortal engines, whose rude throats The immortal Jove’s dread clamours counterfeit, Farewell! Othello’s occupation’s gone!

IagoIs’t possible, my lord?

OthelloVillain, be sure thou prove my love a whore; Be sure of it. Give me the ocular proof, Or, by the worth of man’s eternal soul, Thou hadst been better have been born a dog Than answer my wak’d wrath.

IagoIs’t come to this?

OthelloMake me to see’t, or at the least so prove it, That the probation bear no hinge nor loop To hang a doubt on, or woe upon thy life!

IagoMy noble lord,—

OthelloIf thou dost slander her and torture me, Never pray more. Abandon all remorse; On horror’s head horrors accumulate; Do deeds to make heaven weep, all earth amaz’d; For nothing canst thou to damnation add Greater than that.

IagoO grace! O heaven defend me! Are you a man? Have you a soul or sense? God be wi’ you. Take mine office.—O wretched fool, That liv’st to make thine honesty a vice! O monstrous world! Take note, take note, O world, To be direct and honest is not safe. I thank you for this profit, and from hence I’ll love no friend, sith love breeds such offence.

OthelloNay, stay. Thou shouldst be honest.

IagoI should be wise; for honesty’s a fool, And loses that it works for.

OthelloBy the world, I think my wife be honest, and think she is not. I think that thou art just, and think thou art not. I’ll have some proof: her name, that was as fresh As Dian’s visage, is now begrim’d and black As mine own face. If there be cords or knives, Poison or fire, or suffocating streams, I’ll not endure ’t. Would I were satisfied!

IagoI see, sir, you are eaten up with passion. I do repent me that I put it to you. You would be satisfied?

OthelloWould? Nay, I will.

IagoAnd may; but how? How satisfied, my lord? Would you, the supervisor, grossly gape on, Behold her topp’d?

OthelloDeath and damnation! O!

IagoIt were a tedious difficulty, I think, To bring them to that prospect. Damn them then, If ever mortal eyes do see them bolster More than their own! What then? How then? What shall I say? Where’s satisfaction? It is impossible you should see this, Were they as prime as goats, as hot as monkeys, As salt as wolves in pride, and fools as gross As ignorance made drunk. But yet I say, If imputation and strong circumstances, Which lead directly to the door of truth, Will give you satisfaction, you may have’t.

OthelloGive me a living reason she’s disloyal.

IagoI do not like the office, But sith I am enter’d in this cause so far, Prick’d to ’t by foolish honesty and love, I will go on. I lay with Cassio lately, And being troubled with a raging tooth, I could not sleep. There are a kind of men so loose of soul, That in their sleeps will mutter their affairs. One of this kind is Cassio: In sleep I heard him say, “Sweet Desdemona, Let us be wary, let us hide our loves;” And then, sir, would he gripe and wring my hand, Cry “O sweet creature!” and then kiss me hard, As if he pluck’d up kisses by the roots, That grew upon my lips, then laid his leg Over my thigh, and sigh’d and kiss’d, and then Cried “Cursed fate that gave thee to the Moor!”

OthelloO monstrous! monstrous!

IagoNay, this was but his dream.

OthelloBut this denoted a foregone conclusion. ’Tis a shrewd doubt, though it be but a dream.

IagoAnd this may help to thicken other proofs That do demonstrate thinly.

OthelloI’ll tear her all to pieces.

IagoNay, but be wise. Yet we see nothing done, She may be honest yet. Tell me but this, Have you not sometimes seen a handkerchief Spotted with strawberries in your wife’s hand?

OthelloI gave her such a one, ’twas my first gift.

IagoI know not that: but such a handkerchief (I am sure it was your wife’s) did I today See Cassio wipe his beard with.

OthelloIf it be that,—

IagoIf it be that, or any that was hers, It speaks against her with the other proofs.

OthelloO, that the slave had forty thousand lives! One is too poor, too weak for my revenge! Now do I see ’tis true. Look here, Iago; All my fond love thus do I blow to heaven. ’Tis gone. Arise, black vengeance, from thy hollow hell! Yield up, O love, thy crown and hearted throne To tyrannous hate! Swell, bosom, with thy fraught, For ’tis of aspics’ tongues!

IagoYet be content.

OthelloO, blood, Iago, blood!

IagoPatience, I say. Your mind perhaps may change.

OthelloNever, Iago. Like to the Pontic Sea, Whose icy current and compulsive course Ne’er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on To the Propontic and the Hellespont; Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace Shall ne’er look back, ne’er ebb to humble love, Till that a capable and wide revenge Swallow them up. Now by yond marble heaven, In the due reverence of a sacred vow [Kneels.] I here engage my words.

IagoDo not rise yet. [Kneels.] Witness, you ever-burning lights above, You elements that clip us round about, Witness that here Iago doth give up The execution of his wit, hands, heart, To wrong’d Othello’s service! Let him command, And to obey shall be in me remorse, What bloody business ever.

[They rise.]

OthelloI greet thy love, Not with vain thanks, but with acceptance bounteous, And will upon the instant put thee to ’t. Within these three days let me hear thee say That Cassio’s not alive.

IagoMy friend is dead. ’Tis done at your request. But let her live.

OthelloDamn her, lewd minx! O, damn her, damn her! Come, go with me apart, I will withdraw To furnish me with some swift means of death For the fair devil. Now art thou my lieutenant.

IagoI am your own for ever.