The Complete Works of William Shakespeare Part 413

Enter Lodovico, Montano, Ca.s.sio carried in a chair, and Officers with Iago, prisoner.

LODOVICO. Where is this rash and most unfortunate man?

OTh.e.l.lO. That's he that was Oth.e.l.lo. Here I am.

LODOVICO. Where is that viper? Bring the villain forth.

OTh.e.l.lO. I look down towards his feet; but that's a fable.

If that thou be'st a devil, I cannot kill thee. Wounds Iago.

LODOVICO. Wrench his sword from him.

IAGO. I bleed, sir, but not kill'd.

OTh.e.l.lO. I am not sorry neither. I'ld have thee live, For, in my sense, 'tis happiness to die.

LODOVICO. O thou Oth.e.l.lo, that wert once so good, Fall'n in the practice of a d.a.m.ned slave, What shall be said to thee?

OTh.e.l.lO. Why, anything; An honorable murtherer, if you will, For nought did I in hate, but all in honor.

LODOVICO. This wretch hath part confess'd his villainy.

Did you and he consent in Ca.s.sio's death?

OTh.e.l.lO. Ay.

Ca.s.sIO. Dear general, I never gave you cause.

OTh.e.l.lO. I do believe it, and I ask your pardon.

Will you, I pray, demand that demi-devil Why he hath thus ensnared my soul and body?

IAGO. Demand me nothing; what you know, you know.

From this time forth I never will speak word.

LODOVICO. What, not to pray?

GRATIANO. Torments will ope your lips.

OTh.e.l.lO. Well, thou dost best.

LODOVICO. Sir, you shall understand what hath befall'n, Which, as I think, you know not. Here is a letter Found in the pocket of the slain Roderigo, And here another. The one of them imports The death of Ca.s.sio to be undertook By Roderigo.

OTh.e.l.lO. O villain!

Ca.s.sIO. Most heathenish and most gross!

LODOVICO. Now here's another discontented paper, Found in his pocket too; and this, it seems, Roderigo meant to have sent this d.a.m.ned villain; But that, belike, Iago in the interim Came in and satisfied him.

OTh.e.l.lO. O the pernicious caitiff!

How came you, Ca.s.sio, by that handkerchief That was my wife's?

Ca.s.sIO. I found it in my chamber; And he himself confess'd but even now That there he dropp'd it for a special purpose Which wrought to his desire.

OTh.e.l.lO. O fool! fool! fool!

Ca.s.sIO. There is besides in Roderigo's letter, How he upbraids Iago, that he made him Brave me upon the watch, whereon it came That I was cast. And even but now he spake After long seeming dead, Iago hurt him, Iago set him on.

LODOVICO. You must forsake this room, and go with us.

Your power and your command is taken off, And Ca.s.sio rules in Cyprus. For this slave, If there be any cunning cruelty That can torment him much and hold him long, It shall be his. You shall close prisoner rest, Till that the nature of your fault be known To the Venetian state. Come, bring away.

OTh.e.l.lO. Soft you; a word or two before you go.

I have done the state some service, and they know't.

No more of that. I pray you, in your letters, When you shall these unlucky deeds relate, Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate, Nor set down aught in malice. Then must you speak Of one that loved not wisely but too well; Of one not easily jealous, but, being wrought, Perplex'd in the extreme; of one whose hand, Like the base Indian, threw a pearl away Richer than all his tribe; of one whose subdued eyes, Albeit unused to the melting mood, Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees Their medicinal gum. Set you down this; And say besides, that in Aleppo once, Where a malignant and a turban'd Turk Beat a Venetian and traduced the state, I took by the throat the circ.u.mcised dog And smote him, thus. Stabs himself.

LODOVICO. O b.l.o.o.d.y period!

GRATIANO. All that's spoke is marr'd.

OTh.e.l.lO. I kiss'd thee ere I kill'd thee. No way but this, Killing myself, to die upon a kiss.

Falls on the bed, and dies.

Ca.s.sIO. This did I fear, but thought he had no weapon; For he was great of heart.

LODOVICO. [To Iago.] O Spartan dog, More fell than anguish, hunger, or the sea!

Look on the tragic loading of this bed; This is thy work. The object poisons sight; Let it be hid. Gratiano, keep the house, And seize upon the fortunes of the Moor, For they succeed on you. To you, Lord Governor, Remains the censure of this h.e.l.lish villain, The time, the place, the torture. O, enforce it!

Myself will straight aboard, and to the state This heavy act with heavy heart relate. Exeunt.

THE END

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1596

KING RICHARD THE SECOND

by William Shakespeare

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

KING RICHARD THE SECOND JOHN OF GAUNT, Duke of Lancaster - uncle to the King EDMUND LANGLEY, Duke of York - uncle to the King HENRY, surnamed BOLINGBROKE, Duke of Hereford, son of John of Gaunt, afterwards King Henry IV DUKE OF AUMERLE, son of the Duke of York THOMAS MOWBRAY, Duke of Norfolk DUKE OF SURREY EARL OF SALISBURY EARL BERKELEY BUSHY - favourites of King Richard BAGOT - " " " "

GREEN - " " " "

EARL OF NORTHUMBERLAND HENRY PERCY, surnamed HOTSPUR, his son LORD Ross LORD WILLOUGHBY LORD FITZWATER BISHOP OF CARLISLE ABBOT OF WESTMINSTER LORD MARSHAL SIR STEPHEN SCROOP SIR PIERCE OF EXTON CAPTAIN of a band of Welshmen TWO GARDENERS

QUEEN to King Richard d.u.c.h.eSS OF YORK d.u.c.h.eSS OF GLOUCESTER, widow of Thomas of Woodstock, Duke of Gloucester LADY attending on the Queen

Lords, Heralds, Officers, Soldiers, Keeper, Messenger, Groom, and other Attendants

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SCENE: England and Wales

ACT I. SCENE I.

London. The palace

Enter RICHARD, JOHN OF GAUNT, with other n.o.bLES and attendants

KING RICHARD. Old John of Gaunt, time-honoured Lancaster, Hast thou, according to thy oath and band, Brought hither Henry Hereford, thy bold son, Here to make good the boist'rous late appeal, Which then our leisure would not let us hear, Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray?

GAUNT. I have, my liege.

KING RICHARD. Tell me, moreover, hast thou sounded him If he appeal the Duke on ancient malice, Or worthily, as a good subject should, On some known ground of treachery in him?

GAUNT. As near as I could sift him on that argument, On some apparent danger seen in him Aim'd at your Highness-no inveterate malice.

KING RICHARD. Then call them to our presence: face to face And frowning brow to brow, ourselves will hear The accuser and the accused freely speak.

High-stomach'd are they both and full of ire, In rage, deaf as the sea, hasty as fire.

Enter BOLINGBROKE and MOWBRAY