Original subtitles

I do beseech you, sir, trouble yourself no further.

Oh, pardon me. Do me good to walk.

Madam, good night.

I humbly thank your ladyship.

Your honour is most welcome.

Sir, will you walk?

He goes tomorrow?

Get you to bed on the instant.

I will be returned forth with dispatcher attendant there. It will be done.

I will, my lord.

How goes it now?

He looks gentler than he did.

He says he will return incontinent.

He has commanded me to bed and bade me dismiss you.

Dismiss me? That was his bidding. Therefore, good Amelia, give me my

nightly wearing.

We must not now displease him.

I would you have never seen him. Oh, so would not I.

My love doth so prove him that even his stubbornness, his checks, his frowns...

Prithee, unpin me.

Have grace and favour in them.

I have laid those sheets you bat me on the bed.

All's one?

Good faith, how foolish are our minds.

If I should die before thee, prithee, shroud me in one of those same sheets.

Oh, come, come, you talk.

My mother had a maid called Barbary.

She was in love.

And he she loved proved mad and did forsake her.

She had a song of willow.

An old thing t'was, but it expressed her fortune.

And she died singing it.

That song tonight will not go from my mind.

I have much to do but go hang my head all on one side and sing it like poor

Barbary.

Prithee, dispatch.

Shall I go fetch your nightgown? No, no, no, unpin me here.

This Lodovico is a proper man.

A very handsome man. He speaks well.

I know a lady in Venice would have walked... Barefoot to Palestine for a

touch of his nether lip.

Sing all the green willow. Sing willow,

willow, willow.

The fresh stream ran by her and

murmured her moans. Sing.

It's pretty high that you're coming on.

That's not next.

Who is that knocks?

It's the wind.

So get thee gone.

Oh, my eyes do itch.

That bode weeping.

Oh, it is neither here nor there. Oh, I've heard it said so.

Oh, these men, these men.

Dost thou in conscience think, tell me, Amelia, that there be women to abuse

their husbands in such gross kind?

There'd be some such, no question.

Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world?

Why, would not you?

Nay, by this heavenly light. Nor I neither.

By this heavenly light, I might do it as well in the dark.

Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world?

The world's a huge thing.

It's a great price for a small vice.

Good troth, I think thou wouldst not.

By my troth, I think I should.

And undo't when I had done it.

Oh, Mary, I would not do such a thing for a joint ring, nor for measure of

law, nor gowns and petticoats, nor caps, nor for any petty exhibition.

But for all the whole world, it's pity what woman would not make her husband a

cuckold to make him a monarch.

I should venture purgatory for it.

Beshrew me if I should do such a wrong for the whole world.

Why, the wrong is but a wrong in the world.

And having the world for your labour, it is a wrong in your own world, and you

might quickly make it right.

I do not believe there is any such woman. Yes, a dozen.

And as many to the advantage as would stall the world they played for.

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 men

have.

What is it that they do when they change us for others?

Is it sport?

I think it is.

And does affection breed it?

I think it does.

frailty that does us?

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.

God me such uses send, Not to pick bad from bad,

But by bad mend.

behind this pock.

Straight will he come.

Where I could rapier bear 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 my resolution.

Be near at hand I may miscarry it. Here at thy hand be bold and take thy stand.

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

Tis but a man gone.

Forth my sword, he died.

I have rubbed this young quat almost to the sense, and he grows angry.

Now, whether he killed Cassio, or Cassio him, or he's to kill the other, every

way makes my game.

Live Rodrigo.

He calls me to a restitution large of golden jewels that I bought from him as

gifts to Desdemona.

Must not be.

If Cassio do remain, he has a daily beauty in his life that makes

me ugly.

Besides,

the more may unfold me to him, there stand I in much peril.

No.

He must die.

Be it so.

I hear him coming.

I know his gate is here.

Freeman! Thou diest!

Thou shalt be mine enemy indeed, but the fine coat is better than thou know'st.

I will make proof of thine.

Desi, my brave Iago, honest and just.

Minion, your dear lies dead, and thy unblessed fate hies, stomp and I

come.

Forth of mine heart, those charms, thine eyes are blotted, thy bed lusts stained.

Shall with lust's blood be spotted.

It's the last chance.

The voice is very dire. Hark!

Two or three growl at this heavy night.

These may be counterfeits.

It seems unsafe to come into the cry without more help.

Hark!

Here's one coming in his shirt with weapons.

Who's there?

Did you not hear a cry?

Help me! What's the matter?

Same indeed, a very valiant fellow.

What are you here?

Why so furious?

I'm spoiled and done by villains.

Give me some help.

Oh, me? Lieutenant?

What villains have done this?

I think that one of them is hereabout and cannot make a way.

What are you there? Come in and give some help. Help me here.

Murderous slave.

Villain.

Kill

men

in the dark?

These bloody thieves!

How silent is this town? How?

Murder! Murder!

What may this be? Are you good or evil? As you shall prove, I suppose.

Signor Lodovico? Yes, sir.

I cry your pardon.

Here's Cassio, hurt by villains.

My legs are cut in two.

I'll bind you with my shirt.

That cried.

Oh, my dear Cassio.

Oh, my sweet Cassio.

Oh, the outermost trumpet.

Cassio, may you suspect who they should be who thus have mangled you?

I'm sorry to find you thus. I've been to seek you. Not a chair to bear him easily

hence. Lassie faints.

Oh, Cassio. Gentlemen all, I do suspect this trash to be a party in this injury.

Patience a while, good Cassio.

Come, come, let me the torch.

Alas, my friend.

My dear countryman, Rodrigo.

Yeah, sure.

Oh, heaven, Rodrigo.

What, a phoenix?

Even he, sir. Did you know him?

No, am I?

Signor Graziano.

I cry your gentle pardon for these bloody accidents. Must excuse my

manners, they're so wretched.

I'm glad to see you.

How do you, Cassio? A chair!

A chair!

Where do we go?

Even... A chair.

I'll fetch the general surgeon.

For you, mistress.

Save you your labours.

He that lies slain here, Placid, was my dear friend.

What malice was between you?

None in the world.

Nor do I know the man.

What, look you pale.

Bear him out of the air.

Now stay you, good gentleman.

But look you pale, mistress.

Do you perceive the gasses of her eye?

Oh, you shall stare, and we shall know more and on.

Oh, well, I pray you, look at her.

You see, gentlemen?

Nay, duty must well speak, even though tongues are out of use.

Alas, what's the matter?

What's the matter, husband?

Cassio has been here set on in the dark by Rodrigo, and others have escaped.

He's almost slain, and Rodrigo quite dead.

Alas, good gentlemen, alas, good Cassio.

This is the fruits of whoring.

Prithee Amelia, go know of Cassio, where he sat tonight. What?

You shake at that? He sat at my house, but I never shake not.

Oh, did he so?

Charge, you go with me.

Fire upon thee, strumpet.

I'm no strumpet, but of life as honest as you that there's abuse me. As I?

Fire upon thee, strumpet.

Come, gentlemen.

Let's go see poor Cassio dressed.

You must tell us another tale.

Camellia, run you to the Citadel and tell my lord and lady what hath

happened. You go on afore.

This is the night that either makes me or

foredoes me quite.

Let me not name it to you.

You chased stars.

It is the cause.

Yet.

I'll not shed her blood, nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow,

and smooth as monumental alabaster.

Yet, she must die, else she'll betray more men.

Without the light.

And then...

If I quench thee, thou flaming minister, I can again thy former light restore,

should I repent me.

But once put out thy light, thou cunningst pattern

of excelling nature.

I know not where is that Promethean heat that can thy light relume.

When I have plucked thy rose, I cannot give it vital growth again.

It needs must wither.

I'll smell it.

most persuade justice to break her sword.

One more.

One more.

Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee, and love thee after.

And this the last.

So sweet was ne'er so fatal.

I must weep.

But they are cruel tears.

This sorrow's heavenly.

It strikes where it doth love.

Who's there?

What's that? My testimony.

Will you come to bed, my Lord?

Have you prayed tonight, Testimona?

Aye, my Lord.

If you bethink yourself of any crime...

unreconciled as yet to heaven and grace, solicit for it straight.

Like what may you mean by that? Well, do it, and be brief.

I will walk by.

I would not kill thy unprepared spirit.

No.

Heaven forfend, I would not kill thy soul.

Talk you of killing?

I do.

Then heaven have mercy on you.

Amen.

With all my heart.

If you say so.

I hope you will not kill me.

And yet I fear.

You are fearful then when your eyes roll so.

I know not why I fear.

since guiltiness I know not and yet I feel I fear.

think on thy sins.

they are loves I bear to thee. I and for that thou diest.

that death is unnatural that kills for loving.

why law you so your nether lip?

Her bloody passion shakes your very frame.

These are portents, and yet I hope... I hope they do not point at me.

Peace and peace still!

I will so.

What's the matter?

That handkerchief.

which I so loved and gave thee, thou gav'st to Cassio?

No, by my life and soul.

Send for the man and ask him.

Sweet soul, take heed. Take heed of perjury thou art on thy deathbed. I

would not yet to die. Yes, presently, therefore, contrast thee freely of thy

sin.

For to deny each article with oath cannot remove no choke.

the strong conception that I do groan withal, though art to die. Then, Lord,

have mercy on me. I say amen.

And have you mercy too.

I never did offend you in my life, never loved Cassio, but by such general

warranty of heaven as I might love, I never gave him token.

Heaven, I saw my handkerchief in his hand, O pageant woman.

Thou dost stone my heart, and makes me call what I intend to do a murder which

I thought a sacrifice.

I saw the handkerchief.

He found it, then I never gave it him.

Send for him hither.

Let him confess the truth. He hath confessed.

What, my lord?

That he hath used thee.

How?

Unlawfully?

I will not say so. No, his mouth is stuffed.

I must see I'll go and send order for it.

I feel him dead, but it's what?

Is he dead?

At all his hair's been lives. My great revenge has stomach for them all.

Jesus,

alas, he is betrayed.

I'm... I'm... How strong that wick's mouth I am to my fist.

Don't stop it!

Lay in your stone!

It is too late!

It is too late!

Not dead.

Not yet quite dead.

Right that I'm cruel, I'm yet merciful.

I would not help thee linger in thy pain.

So.

So.

Who's there?

Yes.

Tis Amelia.

Bye and bye.

It is like she comes to speak of Cassius there.

The noise was high.

No more moving.

Still is the grave.

Should she come in? I think she stirs again.

No?

What's the best?

If she come in, she'll sure speak to my wife.

My wife.

My wife.

What wife?

I have no wife.

Oh, insupportable.

Oh, heavy hour.

Me thinks it should be now a huge eclipse of... of sun and moon, and that

the affrighted globe did yawn at alteration.

I had forgot the... Oh, come in, Emilia.

Soft you bind by.

Let me the curtain draw.

Madam, with thee now. Oh, my good Lord, yonder's foul murder's done.

What now? What now?

It is the very arrow of the moon. She comes more nearer earth than she was

wont. It makes men mad.

Cassio, my lord, hath killed a young Venetian called Roderigo.

Roderigo killed and Cassio killed. No, Cassio is not killed. Not Cassio killed!

Then murder's out of tune, and sweet revenge grows harsh.

Oh, Lord.

Murder.

What cry is that?

That one.

Out, and alas, that was my mistress' voice.

Help!

Help! Help!

Oh, lady.

Lady, speak again.

Sweet Desdemona.

Why? How should she be murdered?

Alas who knows.

You heard her say herself it was not I. Oh she said so.

I must needs report a truth.

She's like a liar gone to burning hell. It was I that killed her.

Oh the Moor angel she.

And you, the blacker devil!

She turned to folly, and she was a whore.

Thou dost belie her, and thou art a devil. She was false as water. Thou art

rash as fire to say that she was false.

Oh, she was heavenly true.

Cassio, did topper!

Ask thy husband else.

O, I am damned beneath all death and hell, but that I did proceed

upon just ground. to this extremity thy husband, new lord.

My husband? Thy husband.

That she was false to wedlock? Ay, with Cassio.

Nay, had she been true, if heaven would make me such another world of one entire

and perfect chrysolite.

husband. Ay, it was he that told me on her first. An honest man he is, and

hates the slime that sticks on filthy deeds.

My husband. What needs this utterance, woman? I say, thy husband.

Oh, mistress, Villeneuve made mocks with love.

My husband say that she was false. Hey, woman.

I say, thy husband. Dost thou understand the words?

My friend, thy husband, Arasalaciaco.

If he sees so, may his pernicious soul rot half a grain a day.

He lies to the heart.

She was too fond of her most filthy bargain. God, do thy worst.

This deed of thine is no more worthy heaven than thou wast worthy here. Peace

your best.

Thou hast not half that power to do me harm as I...

I told him what I thought.

I told no more than what he found himself was apt and true.

But did you ever tell him she was false?

I did.

You told a lie.

An odious, damned lie upon my soul. A wicked lie.

She false with Cassio?

Did you say with Cassio?

With Cassio, mistress.

Don't you charm your tongue. No, I will not charm...

I think upon it, I think I smelt villainy.

I thought so then.

Oh, I'll kill myself for grieving villainy, villainy. What? Are you mad?

I told you, I'll get you home.

I pray you, give me relief to speak.

It is proper I obey him.

But not now.

By chance, Tiago, I will ne'er go home.

Nay, lay thee down.

I scarce did know you, uncle.

There lies your niece, whose breath indeed these hands have newly stopped.

I know this act shews horrible and grim.

Poor Desdemona, I'm glad thy father's dead.

Thy match was mortal to him, and pure grief shaw his old-threaded twain.

Did he live now? This sight would make him do a desperate turn. Here he cursed

his better angel from his side,

It is pitiful, but Yediago knows that she with Cassio had the act of shame a

thousand times committed. Cassio, contest it!

And she did gratify his amorous works with that recognizance and pledge of

love which I first gave her. I saw it in his hand.

It was a handkerchief, an antique token.

My father gave my...

God. I will

speak as liberal

as the North, like heaven and man and devils, let them all, all, all cry shame

against me.

Yet I'll speak. We want to get you home. I will not.

husband for often with a solemn earnestness more than indeed belonged to

such a trifle he begged of me to steal it

I am not valiant neither but every puny whipster gets my

sword but why should honor outlive honesty

What did thy song, bold lady?

Hark!

Canst thou hear me?

I will play the swan and die in music.

Willow, willow...

Oh, more she was chaste.

She loved thee cruel more.

So come my soul to bliss as I speak true.

And speaking as I think.

Alas, I don't...

this chamber.

It was a sword of Spain, the Icebrook's temper.

Ah, here it is.

Uncle!

I must come forth.

If thou attempt it, it'll cost thee dear.

Thou hast no weapon, and the force must suffer.

Look in upon me, then, and speak with me, or naked as I am, I will assault

thee.

Behold, I have a weapon.

A better never did sustain itself upon a soldier's thigh. I have seen the day

that with this little arm and this good sword I have made my way through more

impediments than twenty times your stop.

But, O vain boast, who can control his fate?

It is not so now.

Be not afraid, though you do see me weaponed.

Here is my journey's end.

Here is my butt, and very sea mark of my utmost sale.

Do you go back dismayed?

Tis a lost fear.

Man but a rush against Othello's breast, and he retires.

Where should Othello go?

Now, how dost thou look now, O ill-starred wench,

pale as thy smock?

When we shall meet at Comte, this look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven,

and fiends will snatch at it.

Cold, cold, my girl,

even like thy chastity.

O curse it!

Curse it, slave!

He defiles from the possession of this heavenly sight!

Blow me around in winds!

Roast me in sulphur!

Wash me in steeped-down gulfs of liquid fire!

Ah, death to the mountain!

Death!

Most unfortunate man.

That he that was Othello.

Here I am.

Where is that viper? Bring the villain forth.

I look down towards his feet, but that's a fable.

If that thou be'st a devil, I cannot kill thee! Take his sword from him.

I bleed, sir.

Were not killed.

I am not sorry neither.

I'd have thee live.

For in my sense, tis happiness to die.

O thou, fellow, that wert once so good, fallen in the practice of a damned

slave, what shall be said to thee? Why, anything.

An honourable murderer, if you will.

For naught I did in hate, but all in honour. This wretch hath part confessed

his villainy.

Did you and he consent in Cassio's death?

Dear General, I never gave you cause. 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?

Demand me nothing.

What you know, you know.

From this time forth, I never will speak word.

What, not to pray?

Torment will hurt my lips. How thou dost best.

Sir. You shall understand what hath befallen, which is I think you know not.

Here's a letter found in the pocket of the slain Rodrigo, and here another.

The one of them imports the death of Cassio to be undertook by Rodrigo.

Here's another discontented paper found in his pocket too.

And this it seems Rodrigo meant to have sent this damned villain, but that

belike Iago in the nick came in and satisfied him.

How thou pernicious Cato.

How came you, Cassio, by that handkerchief that was my wife's?

I found it in my chamber, and he himself confessed it even now that there he

dropped it for a special purpose which wrought to his desire.

Fool, fool, fool.

There is besides in Rodrigo's letter how he upbraids Iago that he made him brave

me upon the watch whereon it came I was cast.

Even but now he spake, after long seeming dead, Iago hurt him, Iago set

him on. You must forsake this room and go with us. Your power and your command

is taken off, and Cassio 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.

I was after you.

A word or two before you go.

I have done the state some service.

And they know it.

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 perplexed

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, drops, tears,

as fast as the Arabian trees, the immeasurable gum.

Set you down, listen, and say besides that in Aleppo

once... where a malignant and a turbaned Turk beat a Venetian and reduced the

state, I took by the throat the circumcised dog

and smote him.

Thus.

Oh, bloody period.

All that is spoke is marred.

I kissed thee and I killed thee.

No way but this, killing myself to die upon a kiss.

This did I fear, but thought he had no weapon.

For he was great of heart.

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 hellish villain.

The time, the place, the torture.

Oh, enforce it.

Myself will straight abroad.

And to the state, this...

Heavy act with heavy heart relate.