William Shakespeare - Sämtliche Werke von Shakespeare in einem Band - Zweisprachige Ausgabe (Deutsch-Englisch)

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 mother.

EMILIA

O heaven! O heavenly powers!

IAGO

Come, hold your peace.

EMILIA

‘Twill out, ‘twill out:—I peace!

No, I will speak as liberal as the north:

Let heaven and men and devils, let them all,

All, all, cry shame against me, yet I’ll speak.

IAGO

Be wise, and get you home.

EMILIA

I will not.

[Iago offers to stab his wife.]

GRATIANO

Fie!

Your sword upon a woman?

EMILIA

O thou dull Moor! that handkerchief thou speak’st of

I found by fortune and did give my husband;

For often with a solemn earnestness,—

More than, indeed, belong’d to such a trifle,—

He begg’d of me to steal it.

IAGO

Villanous whore!

EMILIA

She give it Cassio! no, alas, I found it,

And I did give’t my husband.

IAGO

Filth, thou liest!

EMILIA

By heaven, I do not, I do not, gentlemen.—

O murderous coxcomb! What should such a fool

Do with so good a wife?

OTHELLO

Are there not stones in heaven

But what serve for thunder?—Precious villain!

[Iago stabs Emilia, and then runs out.]

GRATIANO

The woman falls; sure, he hath kill’d his wife.

EMILIA

Ay, ay:—O, lay me by my mistress’ side.

GRATIANO

He’s gone, but his wife’s kill’d.

MONTANO

‘Tis a notorious villain. Take you this weapon,

Which I have here recover’d from the Moor:

Come, guard the door without; let him not pass,

But kill him rather. I’ll after that same villain,

For ‘tis a damnèd slave.

[Exit Montano and Gratiano.]

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OTHELLO

I am not valiant neither,

But every puny whipster gets my sword:—

But why should honour outlive honesty?

Let it go all.

EMILIA

What did thy song bode, lady?

Hark, canst thou hear me? I will play the swan,

And die in music:—

[Sings.]

“Willow, willow, willow.”

Moor, she was chaste; she lov’d thee, cruel Moor;

So come my soul to bliss, as I speak true;

So speaking as I think, I die,—I die.

[Dies.]

OTHELLO

I have another weapon in this chamber;

It is a sword of Spain, the ice-brook’s temper:—

O, here it is.—Uncle, I must come forth.

GRATIANO

[Within.] If thou attempt it, it will cost thee dear:

Thou hast no weapon, and perforce must suffer.

OTHELLO

Look in upon me then, and speak with me,

Or, naked as I am, I will assault thee.

[Re-enter Gratiano.]

GRATIANO

What is the matter?

OTHELLO

Behold, I have a weapon;

A better never did itself sustain

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? ‘tis not so now.—

Be not afraid, though you do see me weapon’d;

Here is my journey’s end, here is my butt,

And very sea-mark of my utmost sail.

Do you go back dismay’d? ‘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-starr’d wench!

Pale as thy smock! When we shall meet at compt,

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 cursèd, cursèd slave!—Whip me, ye devils,

From the possession of this heavenly sight!

Blow me about in winds! roast me in sulphur!

Wash me in steep-down gulfs of liquid fire!—

O Desdemon! dead, Desdemon! dead! O!

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[Enter Lodovico, Montano, Cassio carried in a chair, and Officers with Iago prisoner.]

LODOVICO

Where is this rash and most unfortunate man?

OTHELLO

That’s he that was Othello;—here I am.

LODOVICO

Where is that viper? bring the villain forth.

OTHELLO

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.

OTHELLO

I am not sorry neither: I’d have thee live;

For, in my sense, ‘tis happiness to die.

LODOVICO

O thou Othello, that wert once so good,

Fall’n in the practice of a damnèd slave,

What shall be said to thee?

OTHELLO

Why, anything;

An honourable murderer, if you will;

For naught did I in hate, but all in honour.

LODOVICO

This wretch hath part confess’d his villany:

Did you and he consent in Cassio’s death?

OTHELLO

Ay.

CASSIO

Dear general, I never gave you cause.

OTHELLO

I do believe it, and I ask your pardon.

Will you, I pray, demand that demi-devil

Why he hath thus ensnar’d 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.

OTHELLO

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 Cassio to be undertook

By Roderigo.

OTHELLO

O villain!

CASSIO

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 damnèd villain;

But that, belike, Iago in the interim

Came in and satisfied him.

OTHELLO

O the pernicious caitiff!—

How came you, Cassio, by that handkerchief

That was my wife’s?

CASSIO

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.

OTHELLO

O fool! fool! fool!

CASSIO

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 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.

OTHELLO

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 Judean, threw a pearl away

Richer than all his tribe; of one whose subdu’d eyes,

Albeit unusèd to the melting mood,