Othello Page #3

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Let me go with him.

Let her have your voice.

And heaven defend your good souls...

...that you think I will your serious

business scant for she is with me.

Be it as you shall privately determine.

At 9 in the morning,

here we'll meet again.

Good night to everyone.

And, noble signor...

...if virtue no delighted beauty lack...

...your son-in-law

is far more fair than black.

Look to her, Moor,

if thou hast eyes to see.

She has deceived her father

and may thee.

My life upon her faith!

Good lago, my Desdemona

must I leave to thee.

Let thy wife attend on her, and bring

them after in the best advantage.

Come, we must obey the time.

Lago!

What sayest thou, noble heart?

What will I do, thinkest thou?

Why, go to bed and sleep.

I will incontinently drown myself.

If thou dost,

I shall never love thee after.

Why, thou silly gentleman!

It is silliness to live

when to live is a torment.

Desdemona!

Villainous!

I've looked upon the world for

four times seven years...

...and I never yet found a man that

knew how to love himself.

Ere I would say I would drown myself

for the love of a guinea hen...

...l'd change my humanity with a baboon.

- What should I do?

I confess it is my shame

to be so fond...

...but it is not in my virtue

to amend it.

Virtue? A fig.

'Tis in ourselves

that we are thus or thus.

We have reason

to cool our raging motions...

...our carnal stings, our

unbitted lusts...

...whereof I take this, which you call

love, to be a sect or scion.

It cannot be!

It is merely a lust of the blood

and a permission of the will.

Come, be a man!

Drown thyself?

Drown cats and blind puppies.

I have professed me thy friend

and I confess me...

...knit to thy deserving with cables

of perdurable toughness.

I could never

better stead thee than now.

Put money in thy purse.

Follow thou these wars.

Disguise thy features with

an usurped beard.

I say, put money in thy purse.

It cannot be that Desdemona should

long continue her love to the Moor.

Put but money in thy purse.

When she's sated with his body,

she'll find the error of her choice.

She must have change, she must.

Fill thy purse with money.

If sanctimony and a frail vow betwixt

an erring barbarian...

...and a super-subtle Venetian

be not too hard for my wits...

...and all the tribe of hell...

...thou shall enjoy her.

Therefore, put...

"Money in thy purse."

A pox on drowning, huh?

'Tis clean out of the way.

Seek thou rather to be hanged

in compassing thy joy...

...than to be drowned

and go without her.

Wilt thou be fast to my hopes?

Thou art sure of me.

There are many events in

the womb of time...

...which will be delivered.

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