THE ARDEN SHAKESPEARE

ALL’S WELL THAT edited by G. K. Hunter*

ENDS WELL
ANTONY AND edited by John Wilders
CLEOPATRA
AS YOU LIKE IT edited by Juliet Dusinberre
THE COMEDY OF edited by R. A. Foakes*
ERRORS
CORIOLANUS edited by Peter Holland
CYMBELINE edited by J. M. Nosworthy*
DOUBLE edited by Brean Hammond
FALSEHOOD
HAMLET, Revised edited by Ann Thompson and Neil
Taylor
JULIUS CAESAR edited by David Daniell
KING HENRY IV edited by David Scott Kastan
PART 1
KING HENRY IV edited by James C. Bulman
PART 2
KING HENRY V edited by T. W. Craik
KING HENRY VI edited by Edward Burns
PART 1
KING HENRY VI edited by Ronald Knowles
PART 2
KING HENRY VI edited by John D. Cox and Eric
PART 3 Rasmussen
KING HENRY VIII edited by Gordon McMullan
 KING JOHN edited by E. A. J. Honigmann*
KING LEAR edited by R. A. Foakes
KING RICHARD II edited by Charles Forker
KING RICHARD III edited by James R. Siemon
LOVE’S LABOUR’S edited by H. R. Woudhuysen
LOST
MACBETH edited by Sandra Clark and Pamela
Mason
MEASURE FOR edited by J. W. Lever*
MEASURE
THE MERCHANT edited by John Drakakis
OF VENICE
THE MERRY edited by Giorgio Melchiori
WIVES OF
WINDSOR
A MIDSUMMER edited by Harold F. Brooks*
NIGHT’S DREAM
MUCH ADO edited by Claire McEachern
ABOUT NOTHING,
Revised
OTHELLO, Revised edited by E. A. J. Honigmann, with a
new introduction by Ayanna Thompson
PERICLES edited by Suzanne Gossett
ROMEO AND edited by René Weis
JULIET
SHAKESPEARE’S edited by Katherine Duncan-Jones and
POEMS H. R. Woudhuysen
SHAKESPEARE’S edited by Katherine Duncan-Jones
SONNETS,
Revised
 THE TAMING OF edited by Barbara Hodgdon
THE SHREW
THE TEMPEST, edited by Virginia Mason Vaughan and
Revised Alden T. Vaughan
TIMON OF edited by Anthony B. Dawson and
ATHENS Gretchen E. Minton
TITUS edited by Jonathan Bate
ANDRONICUS
TROILUS AND edited by David Bevington
CRESSIDA,
Revised
TWELFTH NIGHT edited by Keir Elam
THE TWO edited by William C. Carroll
GENTLEMEN OF
VERONA
THE TWO NOBLE edited by Lois Potter
KINSMEN,
Revised
THE WINTER’S edited by John Pitcher
TALE

* Second series
 The Editors
E. A. J. Honigmann was the author of more than a dozen
books on Shakespeare and his contemporaries, including
Shakespeare; Seven Tragedies; the Dramatist’s
Manipulation of Response (1976, 2002) and Myriad-Minded
Shakespeare (1989, 1998). He taught as a lecturer at
Glasgow University, as a Fellow of the Shakespeare
Institute in Stratford-upon-Avon (Birmingham University),
as Joseph Cowen Professor of English Literature in the
University of Newcastle-upon-Tyne, and in Canada and the
USA. His The Texts of Othello and Shakespearian Revision
is a companion volume to his Arden edition.
Ayanna Thompson is Professor of English at George
Washington University, and she specializes in Renaissance
drama and issues of race in/as performance. She is the
author of Teaching Shakespeare with Purpose: A Student-
Centred Approach (2016), Passing Strange: Shakespeare,
Race, and Contemporary America (2011), and Performing
Race and Torture on the Early Modern Stage (2008). She is
the editor of Weyward Macbeth: Intersections of Race and
Performance (2010) and Colorblind Shakespeare: New
Perspectives on Race and Performance (2006). Professor
Thompson has served as a Trustee of the Shakespeare
Association of America and a member of the Board of
Directors for the Association of Marshall Scholars.
 For
Elsie McConnachie Honigmann
(née Packman)
10.7.1919–6.12.1994

Only a sweet and virtuous soul

Like seasoned timber, never gives:
But, though the whole world turn to coal,
Then chiefly lives.
(George Herbert)
 CONTENTS

General Editors’ Preface

Preface to the First Edition
Introduction

What is Othello?: Genre

Where is Othello?: Early Modern Contexts
Othello and the Audience
Making Objects Pornographic in Othello
Othello and Scholarly Debates
Othello Onstage, Part 1: Stage Histories
Othello Onstage, Part 2: Black Actors, White Actresses
Othello Onstage, Part 3: Othello in the World
Othello: Restaged/Rewritten
Concluding Thoughts

THE TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, THE MOOR OF VENICE

[1.1]
[2.1]
[2.2]
[2.3]
[3.1]
[3.2]
[3.3]
[3.4]
[4.1]
[4.2]
[4.3]
[5.1]
[5.2]

Appendices

1. Date
2. The Textual Problem
3. Cinthio and Minor Sources
4. Edward Pudsey’s Extracts from Othello
5. Musical Settings for Songs in Othello

Abbreviations and References

Commentary Notes and Textual Notes
 GENERAL EDITORS’ PREFACE

The earliest volume in the first Arden series, Edward

Dowden’s Hamlet, was published in 1899. Since then the
Arden Shakespeare has been widely acknowledged as the
pre-eminent Shakespeare edition, valued by scholars,
students, actors and ‘the great variety of readers’ alike for
its clearly presented and reliable texts, its full annotation
and its richly informative introductions.
In the third Arden series we seek to maintain these well-
established qualities and general characteristics,
preserving our predecessors’ commitment to presenting
the play as it has been shaped in history. Each volume
necessarily has its own particular emphasis which reflects
the unique possibilities and problems posed by the work in
question, and the series as a whole seeks to maintain the
highest standards of scholarship, combined with attractive
and accessible presentation.
Newly edited from the original documents, texts are
presented in fully modernized form, with a textual
apparatus that records all substantial divergences from
those early printings. The notes and introductions focus on
the conditions and possibilities of meaning that editors,
critics and performers (on stage and screen) have
discovered in the play. While building upon the rich history
of scholarly activity that has long shaped our
understanding of Shakespeare’s works, this third series of
the Arden Shakespeare is enlivened by a new generation’s
encounter with Shakespeare.

THE TEXT
On each page of the play itself, readers will find a passage
of text supported by commentary and textual notes. Act and
scene divisions (seldom present in the early editions and
often the product of eighteenth-century or later
scholarship) have been retained for ease of reference, but
have been given less prominence than in previous series.
Editorial indications of location of the action have been
removed to the textual notes or commentary.
In the text itself, elided forms in the early texts are spelt
out in full in verse lines wherever they indicate a usual late
twentieth-century pronunciation that requires no special
indication and wherever they occur in prose (except where
they indicate nonstandard pronunciation). In verse
speeches, marks of elision are retained where they are
necessary guides to the scansion and pronunciation of the
line. Final -ed in past tense and participial forms of verbs is
always printed as -ed, without accent, never as -’d, but
wherever the required pronunciation diverges from modern
usage a note in the commentary draws attention to the fact.
Where the final -ed should be given syllabic value contrary
to modern usage, e.g.

Doth Silvia know that I am banished?

(TGV 3.1.214)

the note will take the form

214 banished banishèd

Conventional lineation of divided verse lines shared by two

or more speakers has been reconsidered and sometimes
rearranged. Except for the familiar Exit and Exeunt, Latin
forms in stage directions and speech prefixes have been
translated into English and the original Latin forms
recorded in the textual notes.

COMMENTARY AND TEXTUAL NOTES

Notes in the commentary, for which a major source will be
the Oxford English Dictionary, offer glossarial and other
explication of verbal difficulties; they may also include
discussion of points of interpretation and, in relevant cases,
substantial extracts from Shakespeare’s source material.
Editors will not usually offer glossarial notes for words
adequately defined in the latest edition of The Concise
Oxford Dictionary or Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate
Dictionary, but in cases of doubt they will include notes.
Attention, however, will be drawn to places where more
than one likely interpretation can be proposed and to
significant verbal and syntactic complexity. Notes preceded
by * discuss editorial emendations or variant readings.
Headnotes to acts or scenes discuss, where appropriate,
questions of scene location, the play’s treatment of source
materials, and major difficulties of staging. The list of roles
(so headed to emphasize the play’s status as a text for
performance) is also considered in the commentary notes.
These may include comment on plausible patterns of
casting with the resources of an Elizabethan or Jacobean
acting company and also on any variation in the description
of roles in their speech prefixes in the early editions.
The textual notes are designed to let readers know when
the edited text diverges from the early edition(s) or
manuscript sources on which it is based. Wherever this
happens the note will record the rejected reading of the
early edition(s) or manuscript, in original spelling, and the
source of the reading adopted in this edition. Other forms
from the early edition(s) or manuscript recorded in these
notes will include some spellings of particular interest or
significance and original forms of translated stage
directions. Where two or more early editions are involved,
for instance with Othello, the notes also record all
important differences between them. The textual notes take
a form that has been in use since the nineteenth century.
This comprises, first: line reference, reading adopted in the
text and closing square bracket; then: abbreviated
reference, in italic, to the earliest edition to adopt the
accepted reading, italic semicolon and noteworthy
alternative reading(s), each with abbreviated italic
reference to its source.
Conventions used in these textual notes include the
following. The solidus / is used, in notes quoting verse or
discussing verse lining, to indicate line endings. Distinctive
spellings of the base text follow the square bracket without
indication of source and are enclosed in italic brackets.
Names enclosed in italic brackets indicate originators of
conjectural emendations when these did not originate in an
edition of the text, or when the named edition records a
conjecture not accepted into its text. Stage directions (SDs)
are referred to by the number of the line within or
immediately after which they are placed. Line numbers
with a decimal point relate to centred entry SDs not falling
within a verse line and to SDs more than one line long, with
the number after the point indicating the line within the
SD: e.g. 78.4 refers to the fourth line of the SD following
line 78. Lines of SDs at the start of a scene are numbered
0.1, 0.2, etc. Where only a line number precedes a square
bracket, e.g. 128], the note relates to the whole line; where
SD is added to the number, it relates to the whole of a SD
within or immediately following the line. Speech prefixes
(SPs) follow similar conventions, 203 SP] referring to the
speaker’s name for line 203. Where a SP reference takes
the form e.g. 38+ SP, it relates to all subsequent speeches
assigned to that speaker in the scene in question.
 Where, as with King Henry V, one of the early editions is
a so-called ‘bad quarto’ (that is, a text either heavily
adapted, or reconstructed from memory, or both), the
divergences from the present edition are too great to be
recorded in full in the notes. In these cases, with the
exception of Hamlet, which prints an edited text of the
quarto of 1603, the editions will include a reduced
photographic facsimile of the ‘bad quarto’ in an appendix.

INTRODUCTION
Both the introduction and the commentary are designed to
present the plays as texts for performance, and make
appropriate reference to stage, film and television versions,
as well as introducing the reader to the range of critical
approaches to the plays. They discuss the history of the
reception of the texts within the theatre and scholarship
and beyond, investigating the interdependency of the
literary text and the surrounding ‘cultural text’ both at the
time of the original production of Shakespeare’s works and
during their long and rich afterlife.
 PREFACE TO THE FIRST
EDITION

‘What I would now like to propose to you’, the General

Editor of the Arden Shakespeare wrote to me on 17 August
1982, ‘is that you consider taking on the editing of the next
Arden Othello.’ He suggested 1988 as the completion date.
I was tempted, but did I really want to give five or six years
to a single play? After some soul-searching I signed a
contract with Methuen & Co. to deliver the edition in 1988
in a form ‘acceptable to the General Editor’, with ‘sufficient
appendices’ (whatever that means: is five sufficient?). I
knew, of course, that Othello had received much less
detailed editorial attention than Hamlet or King Lear,
though not that so much editorial work still remained to be
done. Five or six years have stretched to somewhat more,
the Arden Shakespeare is no longer published by Methuen,
its General Editor has been joined by two other General
Editors, the edition of Othello needed a companion volume
on The Texts of ‘Othello’ (Routledge, 1996) – much has
changed, yet my gratitude to Richard Proudfoot has
remained constant (or rather, has grown with the years).
He chose the editor, he read through my drafts and always
commented encouragingly (and, to my great advantage,
critically). On almost every page I am indebted to him, and
I gladly acknowledge this. At a later stage, in the last year
or so, a second General Editor (David Scott Kastan)
checked through the edition: I am grateful to him as well
for many helpful comments.
 Over the years innumerable offprints of articles on
Othello have reached me, some from old friends, others
from complete strangers. It was not possible to refer to all
of them, the list of publications on the play being now so
huge, but I hope that the edition has benefited, directly or
indirectly. Other friends and colleagues have helped in
different ways – sending books that were unobtainable in
Britain, inviting me to give lectures or to write papers on
Othello, or simply answering my questions: David
Bevington, Helen Boden, Susan Brock, T. W. Craik,
Katherine Duncan-Jones, R. A. Foakes, the late Charlton
Hinman, Harold Jenkins, Holger Klein, Giorgio Melchiori,
Sylvia Morris, Barbara Mowat, Elisabeth Orsten, Edward
Pechter, Willem Schrickx, the late Terence Spencer, Marvin
Spevack, Rosamond Kent Sprague and Stanley Wells. Mairi
McDonald, Marian Pringle and Robert Smallwood of the
Shakespeare Centre, Stratford-upon-Avon, were efficient
and helpful in locating books, manuscripts and illustrations.
In addition I am grateful to the librarians and officials of
the Bodleian Library, the British Film Institute, the British
Library, Cambridge University Library and Trinity College,
Cambridge, Durham University Library, the Public Record
Office, the Theatre Museum (London) and, last but not
least, Newcastle University Library (the Robinson Library).
To all, my sincere thanks: without their generous
cooperation this edition would have had many more gaps
and faults.
Jane Armstrong, a friend from the Methuen years and
Arden 2, who took charge of the third Arden Shakespeare
for the publisher, has been, as usual, understanding and
supportive. Her colleagues, Penny Wheeler and Judith
Ravenscroft, were equally tactful and efficient in dealing
with the unforeseen quirks of an edition of Shakespeare –
or should I say, of an editor of Shakespeare?
My greatest debt – for putting up with Othello
uncomplainingly for so long, and for having so much else in
common with the gentle Desdemona – is acknowledged in
my dedication.
E. A. J. Honigmann
Newcastle upon Tyne
 INTRODUCTION

How and where to begin? An introduction like this one

serves not only to frame William Shakespeare’s Othello but
also to prioritize its themes, topics and contexts. While
there are differences of opinion about how best to frame
Romeo and Juliet (should one foreground early modern
concepts of love before contextualizing certain literary
forms, like the sonnet), the debates are rarely heated or
political, and unsurprisingly they rarely replicate
themselves in the court of public opinion. For Othello,
however, the debates get extremely heated and traverse
the terrain between the academic and the public.
For instance, when The Guardian announced that the
Royal Shakespeare Company was casting its first black
actor to play Iago in its 2015 production, the readers
reacted with impassioned comments about how Othello
should be framed – that is, what histories, social contexts
and themes should be foregrounded. Some readers decried
the article’s claim that Iago ‘is usually interpreted as being
a deeply malignant racist’ because they argued this
misinterprets the play’s historical context: ‘it was never
really a play “about” racism anyway (not exactly a hot
button social issue of Shakespeare’s day)’; and ‘Whatever
else happens it won’t be Shakespeare’s vision’. Other
commentators responded by providing a different
contextualization altogether, one that did not rely on
Shakespeare’s time period: ‘Casting a black actor as Iago is
not a new thing – it’s been done by at least one director
who wanted to make the point that racism is not just a
black/white issue and can manifest itself in all kinds of
subtle and insidious ways’; and ‘Maybe this explains why
some critics were hostile when Ira Aldridge played Othello
because having an actual black actor play the role wasn’t
Shakespeare’s vision’. And others wanted to frame the
discussion outside of the context of the play by addressing
contemporary casting practices: ‘Dear RSC – Just cast more
black actors across more roles across your season and then
we would cease to have news “stories” like this.’1
So is Othello a play about race? Or maybe it is a play
about religion and ethnicity? Or maybe it is a play about
jealousy in general? Perhaps it is really a domestic tragedy
framed within a military narrative? Or is it the exact
opposite: a military tragedy framed in a domestic drama?
Or possibly it is simply an experiment in transforming a
comedy into a tragedy? Or maybe Othello is about the
nature of evil? Or the nature of man? Or the nature of
woman? Or the nature of the family? Or the changing
nature of the family in an increasingly global world?
The way we frame the story of Othello will impact the
way the play will be understood and performed, and
students, scholars, performers and audience members have
long debated the best way to crystallize the story of the
play. Of course, the idea that stories are crafted – that they
are not innate or natural – is another way to frame Othello:
it is a play about storytellers, their tall-tales and their
effects on gullible listeners. After all, Othello won
Desdemona’s heart by telling her ‘the story of my life /
From year to year – the battles, sieges, fortunes / That I
have passed’ (1.3.130–2). The story was so compellingly
crafted that the Duke admits, ‘I think this tale would win
my daughter too’ (1.3.172). Moreover, Othello’s dying
words are a request for the way his story should be framed
in the future: ‘When you shall these unlucky deeds relate, /
Speak of me as I am. Nothing extenuate, / Nor set down
aught in malice’ (5.2.339–41). Othello dies worrying about
the way his life will be framed so he narrates exactly how
he thinks, believes and hopes it should be told (‘Set you
down this’ 5.2.349).
Storytelling matters in very explicit and tangible ways in
Othello, and Othello is not the only character who is
attentive to this fact. While Iago suggests that Othello
duped Desdemona with lies (‘she first loved the Moor, but
for bragging and telling her fantastical lies’ 2.1.220–1), he
himself is a master story crafter. After all, from the
beginning of the play Iago recognizes that the best way to
exact revenge is to ‘abuse Othello’s ear’ (1.3.394). Iago
realizes that once a person is characterized or pigeonholed
within a certain narrative structure (Desdemona as a
‘super-subtle Venetian’, Othello as an ‘erring Barbarian’
and Cassio as ‘a finder out of occasions’) it can prove
difficult-to-near impossible to escape that plot, or to recast
oneself (or others) into alternative narrative structures. He
who controls the storytelling controls the world in Othello.
It is clear, then, that while any introduction to Othello will
be interpreted as an argument about the play’s meaning,
the play teaches us to be sceptical of adhering to one
frame, or one story: the act of framing something narrowly
often makes it impossible to accept other narratives and
other perspectives. Keeping this in mind, it is instructive to
note that Othello does not exist in one historical moment,
or one historical context, alone. It does not merely come
out of and reflect the early-seventeenth century; rather, it is
a play whose stagings, readings and meanings have
mutated and evolved over time. The Othello that we read or
see in the twenty-first century is not the same that
Shakespeare’s audience read or saw in early modern
England, or that slave owners saw in nineteenth-century
America, or that Afrikaners saw in Apartheid South Africa.
Many eras reframe the story of the Moor of Venice.
Nonetheless, while these various Othellos are obviously
discrete historical events reflecting and commenting upon
the time in which they were produced, they are never
entirely isolated or separate; they comment upon each
other; they revise each other; and they invite readers and
audience members to see both the connections and fissures
between them. If we learn anything from Othello it should
be that there are benefits to accepting multiple stories,
frames and narratives.
Some might argue that we experience multiple frames
when reading or seeing any, and all, of Shakespeare’s plays
– that Shakespeare’s plays are both timely and untimely all
at once. While this is true to a certain extent, there is
something different about the ways history and context get
framed for Shakespeare’s Venetian plays, The Merchant of
Venice and Othello. The violent histories that occurred
towards Jews and Africans since the early modern period
render history and context more fraught and complex when
approaching the constructions and presentations of religion
and race in Shakespeare’s plays. For instance, in various
historic moments Merchant and Othello have been
employed to promote anti-Semitic and racist beliefs: the
Nazis considered staging Merchant to vilify the Jews, and
blackface minstrel shows were first staged alongside
performances of Othello to mock blacks. Of course, the
obverse is also true with both Merchant and Othello
employed in efforts to combat anti-Semitism and racism:
Jewish actors/directors have proudly claimed Shylock as
their own, and black actors have identified performing in
Othello as a ‘rite of passage’. When staging either play now,
directors must decide which historical construction of the
‘Jew’ or the ‘Moor’ they will employ. And, of course, they
must also be cognizant of the various historical
constructions their audience members will bring with them
to the theatre – and whether those constructions are in
harmony with or at odds against the production’s intended
constructions.
 This is all to suggest that reading, seeing and/or
discussing Othello in our post-slavery and post-Civil Rights
Era moment is both a rewarding and a challenging
experience. It is useful to learn and discuss the historical
moment in which Othello was composed, but it is just as
important to review the historical moments Othello has
passed through, affected and been affected by. The play is
not an inanimate object that never changes. Instead Othello
is a dynamic organism that is affected by every hand that
touches it – from the actors who perform the role, the
visual artists who re-imagine and re-animate the character,
the creative writers who rewrite the plot, to the scholars
who contextualize its various, disparate and interconnected
histories. Othello, then, exists in history (multiple time
periods) and through history (the stories and frames we use
to recreate it). We constantly create new stories in which to
frame Othello because it is a play that interrogates stories,
frames and contexts; it is a play that invites revision.
Therefore, this introduction is not limited to early modern
English history. While I will spend time laying out the
historical context in which Othello was created, paying
particular attention to Shakespeare’s source materials and
the evidence about early modern constructions of racial
and religious difference, I will also spend time discussing
the life of the play in different historical moments,
demonstrating how meanings develop, accrue and
metamorphose over time. In essence I will be writing about
multiple Othellos, inviting you to imagine if, when and how
different readers and audience members were affected by
these histories, contexts and performances. Moreover, the
dynamic nature of the play will be presented in a global
context with attention paid to non-Western approaches to
and performances of Othello.
This is an unusual Arden edition because I am writing a
new introduction to the play while maintaining E. A. J.
Honigmann’s editorial work. In other words, this is not the
Arden4 Othello, but rather a type of Arden3b. While
Honigmann’s editorial decisions remain both useful and
admirable, the birth of early modern race studies changed
critical approaches to Othello since Honigmann’s
introduction was published in 1997. This introduction,
then, is written for a new generation of readers, readers
who expect a contemporary view of Othello that was not
widely available critically when Honigmann prepared his
introduction. This introduction is heavily informed by early
modern race studies, performance studies and global
Shakespeare studies, fields that have grown exponentially
since the turn of the millennium and have, in turn, changed
the ways we read, produce and see Othello. Like the
critical revolution that occurred with the birth of new
historicism in the 1980s, the impacts of early modern race
studies and global Shakespeare studies on the ways we
experience Othello cannot be underestimated. A seismic
change has occurred.
In practical terms, the revised Arden3 Othello contains
the new introduction, Honigmann’s excellent edition of the
play, commentary notes, longer notes and appendices. All
references to the introduction have been updated to reflect
the new introduction, but the bulk of the notes and
appendices are those created by Honigmann for the 1997
edition because they remain instructive and constructive.

What is Othello?: Genre

While both the folio and quarto label the play as a tragedy,
Othello is related to several other generic forms that might
not at first seem readily apparent to the modern reader.
First is the morality play, a medieval allegorical theatrical
form in which moral lessons were taught through
characters who personify moral qualities, like charity or
vice. The genre thrived in fifteenth- and sixteenth-century
Europe and helped establish vernacular drama, which in
turn helped set the stage for the secular drama that thrived
in early modern England. The anonymous play Mankind (c.
1465) provides a good example. Characters who represent
the enticements of earthly pleasures (Newguise, Nowadays
and Nought), try to tempt Mankind, a farmer, away from
Mercy. Essential to the morality play tradition is the moral
conundrum the central character – the mankind figure –
must face when tempted by figures who actively endeavour
to lure him to commit vices such as avarice, lust and
gluttony.
Although originating from popular folk performances, the
Vice is a character in the morality play. A temptation figure
who performs the blithe spirit of worldly pleasures (as
opposed to spiritual ones), ‘The Vice was a favorite with the
audience’ and the Vice’s role was ‘almost invariably the
longest single part’ in the performance (Mares, 13). The
Vice ‘is on intimate terms with the audience and cracks
jokes with individual members of it’ and does not appear to
be ‘subject to the limitations of the other characters’
(Mares, 14). In one scene in Mankind, for instance,
Titivillus, the Vice figure, is visible to the audience but is
invisible to Mankind, and he addresses the audience
directly as he plays tricks on Mankind. Furthermore, the
Vice is frequently depicted as a worldly figure who
frequently ‘give[s] an account of extraordinary travels’
(Mares, 19). And the Vice even performs his worldliness by
dressing as an Egyptian or a Turk with the aid of blackface
and red-face makeup (Mares, 19–20).
Shakespeare was clearly aware of and interested in the
structure of morality plays and the figure of the Vice. In a
famous metadramatic moment, Richard III willingly adopts
the tempter’s role: ‘Thus, like the formal Vice, Iniquity, / I
moralize two meanings in one word’ (R3 3.1.82–3). And
Aaron, the Moor, in Titus Andronicus, Shakespeare’s first
tragedy, is clearly related to the worldly corrupting figure
of the Vice. Like Richard III, Aaron is afforded more direct
addresses to the audience than other character, and he also
seems preternaturally aware of the plot structure into
which he has been scripted. ‘If there be devils, would I
were a devil, / To live and burn in everlasting fire, / So I
might have your company in hell / But to torment you with
my bitter tongue’ (Tit 5.1.147–50). Likewise, in the Henry
IV plays, Shakespeare adopts the morality play structure in
which a type of psychomachia, that is the battle for the soul
of man, is set up for the young Prince Hal. Despite the fact
that Hal announces early in the first play that he is only
pretending to enjoy the debauchery of the tavern, his
father, the king, and his quasi-step-father, Falstaff, are set
up to represent the decision he must make between virtue
and vice.
Shakespeare’s employment of elements from the morality
play within Othello, then, is not that surprising. By the end
of the play, Othello seems to interpret the events through
the lens of the morality play, even identifying Iago as a Vice
figure or devil. Looking for Iago’s cloven foot, Othello says,
‘I look down towards his feet, but that’s a fable’ (5.2.283).
Yet Shakespeare’s alterations to the genre demonstrate the
experimental nature of his work. First, the Vice figure is
not the racialized character in Othello; rather the mankind
figure is explicitly racialized (Othello) and the Vice figure is
the native, a Venetian (Iago). Furthermore, while Iago
makes it clear that he has served abroad in battle with
Othello (‘And I, of whom his eyes had seen the proof / At
Rhodes, at Cyprus and on other grounds, / Christian and
heathen’ 1.1.27–9), Othello, the mankind figure, is
nonetheless the character associated with extraordinary
travels (‘an extravagant and wheeling stranger / Of here
and everywhere’ 1.1.134–5). Thus, Shakespeare seems to
employ familiar aspects of the morality play, tempting
audience members to believe they understand how the play
will progress based on its generic form and structure only
to have those expectations thwarted, disrupted and
subverted.
Shakespeare was not content to borrow from merely one
generic tradition though; rather, he blended several
unlikely generic bedfellows together almost as if placing
the audience in Othello’s position – that is, as one who feels
as if he is always misreading events, customs and
characters. For instance, several comedic motifs get folded
into Othello’s web. First, there is the plotline of the father
who cannot control his wily daughter. Because a daughter’s
obedience was prized in early modern English society, plots
capitalized on the humour that can ensue when daughters
intentionally deceive their fathers. A Midsummer Night’s
Dream after all begins with a father’s complaint about his
daughter’s unwillingness to marry the man he intends for
her. Not unlike Brabantio’s claims about Othello’s courtship
of his daughter Desdemona, Egeus complains to the Duke
that Lysander has tricked his daughter into loving him:
‘With cunning hast thou filched my daughter’s heart, /
Turned her obedience (which is due to me) / To stubborn
harshness’ (MND 1.1.37–9). In fact, the rhetorical
similarities between Egeus’s complaint and Brabantio’s are
stark with both men concerned with the effects of
‘cunning’, a word which implies both run-of-the-mill
trickery and devilish witchcraft on a daughter’s
‘obedience’. Brabantio declares that they must ‘find out the
practices of cunning hell’ (1.3.103) to discover why
Desdemona would marry Othello, and then pointedly asks
her, ‘Do you perceive, in all this noble company, / Where
most you owe obedience?’ (1.3.179–80). Brabantio’s
language provides a clear rhetorical echo to Shakespeare’s
earlier use of this plotline for comic effect. Of course, a
daughter’s disobedience can also be the stuff of tragedy as
Shakespeare thoroughly explored when he created two
generically disparate plays based on the same source
material, the story of Pyramus and Thisbe: Romeo and
Juliet and A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
Yet Shakespeare adds to the generic comic expectations
by also weaving in the familiar plotline of the older
husband who is cuckolded by his younger wife. Chaucer
helped to popularize the comedic structure of the so-called
January–May romance genre in ‘The Merchant’s Tale’ in
The Canterbury Tales, in which January, a man of sixty
years, marries the youthful May so that he can beget an
heir. Because she is so young and wild, May has sex with a
young squire in a pear tree. Likewise, in ‘The Miller’s Tale,’
the young wife Alisoun cuckolds her old and uxorious
husband John. Thus, when Othello declares to the Duke and
the Venetian senators that he is too old to be motivated
primarily by a physical desire for Desdemona (‘I therefore
beg it not / To please the palate of my appetite, / Nor to
comply with heat, the young effects / In me defunct’
1.3.262–5), the audience could hear echoes of other
familiar January–May plots. By pointing out the comic
plotlines that Shakespeare embeds in Othello, I am not
suggesting that the play is any less tragic than it is. Rather,
I want to emphasize the way Shakespeare cannibalized and
transformed familiar structures, plots and character types,
thereby subverting audience expectations.
Othello also taps into the popularity of the romance
narrative. The early modern prose romance was indebted
to the medieval chivalric romance, in which knights went
on marvel-filled adventures to fulfill fairy-tale like quests.
Othello’s personal narrative, the one that Desdemona
would ‘Devour up’ with her ‘greedy ear’ (1.3.151, 150),
borrows liberally from popular romances of the time,
including John Mandeville’s travels. Those tales were filled
with extreme adventure and demonstrations of pure love,
and the inclusion of their generic elements in Othello
serves to highlight the fantastical aspects of those
narratives. Even though we hear him described as such,
the audience never gets to see Othello as a military leader
or heroic adventurer. So the romance genre is invoked to
highlight its absence in Othello.
Of course, Othello is tragic in structure, tone and
content. Yet even within tragedy, we see Shakespeare
experimenting with multiple sub-genres. The play is set up
in a bifurcated fashion with a political tragedy bleeding into
a domestic one, and vice versa. The movement of the play
from Venice to Cyprus, after all, is governed by the political
anxiety that the Turks will seize the important military base
and trading island of Cyprus. The Duke and senators of
Venice are willing to ignore the complaints of their fellow
senator Brabantio precisely because they need the Moor to
agree to battle the Turks. This is a political tragedy. But
Shakespeare kills the Turks off in a storm so that the
military narrative dies a natural death. The comic plot of
the rebellious daughter marrying her true love against her
father’s wishes then transforms into a domestic tragedy
(Callaghan, Women, 35ff). The genre was popularized by
plays like the anonymous Arden of Faversham in which a
cuckolding wife plots her husband’s death with her lover
only to be delayed by a series of accidents and chance
events. Othello seems to fear that he is the duped victim in
a domestic tragedy only to become the villain of one.
Once again, by blending these various tragic generic
elements with those from morality plays, domestic
comedies and January–May plot structures, Shakespeare
seems to be prompting his audience to interrogate the
expectations we bring to characters, narratives and
encounters with the unfamiliar. Othello, in the end, is a play
about how well or how difficult it is to integrate disparate
people, personal narratives, culture and cultural narratives.

Where is Othello?: Early Modern Contexts

1. Sources One can get a better sense of how Shakespeare
blended generic elements into Othello by understanding
the early modern sources and contexts that Shakespeare
used to create Othello. Scholars tend to agree that
Shakespeare must have read and been influenced by the
Italian writer Giovanni Battista Giraldi, known by his
classical pseudonym Cinthio (1504–1573). Gli
Hecatommithi (see Appendix 3 for Cinthio’s text), Cinthio’s
suite of 100 interwoven novellas, which are organized in
groups of ten according to different topics and themes
about love, was first published in Italian in 1565 and then
in French in 1583. Although we cannot be certain if
Shakespeare read the text in the original Italian, the
translated French version, or some lost early modern
English translation (the first extant English translation did
not appear until 1753), it is clear that he borrowed plots,
themes and characters from Gli Hecatommithi. While
Measure for Measure (written around the same time as
Othello) is influenced by the fifth story in the eighth
decade, the group that addresses ingratitude, Othello is
indebted to the seventh story in the third decade, the group
that addresses the infidelity of husbands and wives.
In Cinthio’s tale, an unnamed Moor who lives in Venice
proves himself ‘valiant’ and ‘skillful’ to the Signoria,
Venice’s governing authority. Disdemona, ‘a virtuous Lady
of wondrous beauty’, whose name in Italian means unlucky
or ill-omened, falls in love with the Moor ‘impelled not by
female appetite but by the Moor’s good qualities’.
Nonetheless, ‘the Lady’s relatives did all they could to
make her take another husband’. While there is no Turkish
threat to Cyprus in Gli Hecatommithi, the Signoria send the
Moor ‘to maintain Cyprus’. The unnamed Ensign who
accompanies the Moor to Cyprus, ‘fell ardently in love with
Disdemona, and bent all his thoughts to see if he could
manage to enjoy her’. Because Disdemona remains
oblivious to the Ensign’s advances, ‘the love which he had
felt for the Lady now changed to the bitterest hate’. As in
Shakespeare’s Othello, the Ensign chips away at the Moor’s
confidence by telling him that Disdemona is unfaithful, and
yet in Cinthio’s version his digs are more pointed racially:
‘The woman has come to dislike your blackness’.
Cinthio’s Disdemona gives voice to the story’s moral
when she states, ‘I fear greatly that I shall be a warning to
young girls not to marry against their parents’ wishes; and
Italian ladies will learn by my example not to tie themselves
to a man whom Nature, Heaven, and manner of life
separate from us’. In the end, the Ensign and the Moor kill
Disdemona together by bludgeoning her to death with
sand-filled socks which leave no marks on her body; and
then they fake her death by making it look as if she was
killed by a collapsed ceiling. Through complicated plot
twists, the faked death is eventually revealed, the Moor is
sentenced to exile, and Disdemona’s relatives eventually
hunt him down and kill him. The Ensign continues enacting
his wicked deeds until he dies under torture: ‘he was
tortured so fiercely that his inner organs were ruptured’.
Everything is eventually revealed by the unnamed Ensign’s
wife, who knew all the facts but was too scared of her
husband to reveal them while he was still living.
One of Shakespeare’s exceptional talents was his ability
to ingest older plots, narratives and stories and then to
transform them into new creations. While Cinthio’s tale has
a didactic purpose – to warn young girls not to marry ‘a
man whom Nature, Heaven, and manner of life separate’
from them – Shakespeare’s Othello resists this simplistic
moral thrust. Desdemona, unlike Disdemona, dies
protecting Othello and continuing to pledge her love for
him. Desdemona’s death, in other words, hardly lends itself
to a clear moral narrative. Likewise, the fact that
Shakespeare’s Othello kills himself instead of being killed
by Disdemona’s relatives ‘as he richly deserved’, according
to Cinthio’s tale, thwarts the moralism inherent in vendetta
narratives.
Shakespeare was able to make his Moor more richly
textured than Cinthio’s by weaving other sources into the
play to fill out Othello’s backstory. In particular, it seems
that Shakespeare used A Geographical History of Africa, an
influential geographical and ethnographic book about
Africa (the first of its kind in early modern Europe). Its
author, an Andalusian Muslim who lived in Fez, Hasan ibn
Muhammad al-Wazzan (c. 1485–1554), was captured by
pirates in the Mediterranean, taken to Rome, and then
gifted to Pope Leo X, who christened him Johannes Leo
Africanus. First published in Italian in 1550, A
Geographical History of Africa was held up as the
authoritative text on north and west Africa for centuries,
and the first English translation was published in 1600 by
John Pory. It was subsequently included in many travel
narratives published in England.
While scholars debate how much of Africanus’s
geographical history Shakespeare actually read, it seems
clear that Shakespeare found the author’s personal
narrative a rich one to mine for Othello. The idea of a well-
born, educated and experienced African who works his way
into the upper echelons of white, European power is clearly
echoed in Othello. Shakespeare’s tragic hero, after all,
explains that he comes from ‘men of royal siege’ (1.2.22),
and explains that he was ‘taken by the insolent foe / And
sold to slavery’ from which he received ‘redemption’
(1.3.138–9). Shakespeare’s Othello, then, tells a tale that
echoes the fascinating reality of Johannes Leo Africanus’s
life.
Shakespeare also appears to have used bits and pieces
from a new early modern English translation of a famous
Roman encyclopedia by Pliny the Elder, The Historie of the
Natural World, translated by Philemon Holland in 1601.
While Pliny’s text, like Africanus’s, provides a wide range of
information about botany, zoology and astronomy, the more
fabulous parts of the narrative about the ‘Nature of Man’
seem to be echoed in Othello. For example, Pliny includes
an interesting section on ‘the diversitie of other nations’
and focuses on the Scythians, some of whom he calls
‘Anthropophagi’ (Pliny, 153 and 154). Furthermore,
Shakespeare may have gotten specific geographical
locations like the ‘Hellespont’ (see commentary note on
3.3.456–9) from Pliny’s encyclopedic text (Pliny, 154 and
190).
Yet Othello’s narrative of self blends the personal (‘my
travailous history’ 1.3.140) with the fantastical (‘cannibals
that each other eat, / The Anthropophagi, and men whose
heads / Do grow beneath their shoulders’ 1.3.144–6), and
this narrative structure echoes a different wildly popular
text, John Mandeville’s The Book of Marvels and Travels (c.
1371). Supposedly written by an English Christian pilgrim
who travels in and around Jerusalem, The Book of Marvels
and Travels is a fabricated tale that blends travelogues,
fantasy narratives and fiction often in the same moment.
Take for example, Mandeville’s description of cannibals in
India: ‘One travels from this country via many lands and
islands … and after fifty-two days’ travel one reaches the
land called Lamuri…. The land is held in shared ownership,
in that one man has it one year, another man another
year…. They do, however, have one wicked habit: they eat
human flesh more enthusiastically than anything else.
Merchants bring them their children to sell, and if they are
fat they are eaten straightaway’ (Mandeville, 78–9). Mixing
the guidebook structure (‘after fifty-two days’ travel’) with
fantasy (a town of communist cannibals), Mandeville’s Book
seems to provide Shakespeare with an elastic narrative
structure that can encompass veracity and fantasy.
Shakespeare also appears to have browsed books about
the social and political structure of Venice, texts he used
for both Othello and his earlier Venetian play, The
Merchant of Venice (c. 1596). In particular, he seems to
have used Sir Lewes Lewkenor’s English translation of
Gaspar Contarini’s De Magistratibus et Republica
Venetorum (c. 1543), The Commonwealth and Government
of Venice (1599) when writing Othello. Written by Contarini
when he was an ambassador to Charles V, De Magistratibus
romanticizes the Venetian state, explicitly painting a
portrait of balance, fortune and evenhandedness.
Lewekenor’s English translation was significant because
the early modern English were often looking to Venice for
models of social, political and economic prosperity. Thus,
Lewekenor’s text analyses the structures of the political
(the Duke and Grand Council), military (generals and
commanders of empyreal outposts) and social systems (a
two-class system with nobility/gentlemen and commoners).
While there is more to say about early modern perceptions
of Venice, suffice it to say that Shakespeare not only
borrowed fictional sources for plots and characters, but
also non-fictional sources for information about foreign
social and political systems. Iago’s attentiveness to issues
of class and rank (‘Preferment goes by letter and affection /
And not by old gradation, where each second / Stood heir
to th’ first’ 1.1.35–7) clearly reflects Shakespeare’s
intertextual interests.
Theatrically, Othello is indebted to dramas that featured
‘negro Moor[s]’ (Alcazar 2.1.3), especially George Peele’s
The Battle of Alcazar (c. 1591), the first early modern
English play to do so. A play that relates the true history of
the Moroccan defeat of the Portuguese in 1578, including
the death of the King of Portugal, Alcazar features
‘barbarous’, ‘ambitious’, ‘lusty’ and ‘manly’ Moors of
various different skin colours (Alcazar 1.1.6; 3.2.25; 3.3.12;
3.3.20). Muly Mahamet, the play’s ‘negro Moor’, who is the
offspring of the former king and his black bond slave, tricks
the Portuguese into supporting his bid for power. A chorus
figure, who introduces each act, declares of Muly
Mahamet:

And ill betide this foul ambitious Moor

Whose wily trains with smoothest course of speech
Hath tied and tangled in a dangerous war,
The fierce and manly King of Portugal.
(Alcazar 5.1.1–5)

With his characterization of the smooth talking negro Moor

who manipulates his European friends rhetorically, Peele
helped set the stage for Shakespeare’s depictions of race,
rhetoric and intercultural collisions.2 While not a
stereotypical stage villain, Muly Mahamet is frequently
discussed by other characters in terms of his colour, as if
his racial difference might provide a reason for his
ambitiousness and cunning.
Peele’s Muly Mahamet is most closely related to
Shakespeare’s Aaron, the Moor. It should come as no
surprise, then, that critics have argued that Peele may have
been a co-author on Titus Andronicus.3 Like Muly
Mahamet, Aaron is described as a ‘barbarous Moor’ who is
‘raven-coloured’ (Tit 2.2.78; 83). And like Muly Mahamet,
Aaron is a truly gifted rhetorician who frequently cites
classical allusions, translates Latin and puns incessantly.
When the Roman army defeats the Goths, Aaron is taken
prisoner along with the Goths. Unbeknownst to the
Romans, he and the Empress of the Goths, Tamora, have
been having an affair. Thus, when Tamora unexpectedly
rises in power in Rome, Aaron rises with her and helps to
plot her revenge. In Titus Andronicus, Aaron represents the
creative force of chaos and destruction. He can improvise;
he dreams up creative ways to torture the Romans; and he
understands the narrative plots into which the Romans
script him.
The fascinating theatrical and characterological moves
that Shakespeare makes from Titus Andronicus to Othello
effectively divide the devil figure from the ‘raven-coloured
love’. So Iago embodies the devilish improvisational and
rhetorical effectiveness of Muly Mahamet and Aaron, the
Moor, while Othello embodies the blackness of them. In
Othello, Shakespeare seems to return to a small figure he
included in The Merchant of Venice, the Prince of Morocco.
While a humorous character who attempts to marry the
wealthy, white Portia, the Prince of Morocco begins his
wooing by telling the ‘gentle queen’ (MV 2.1.12) stories
about his adventures:

By this scimitar,
That slew the Sophy and a Persian prince,
That won three fields of Sultan Solyman,
I would o’erstare the sternest eyes that look,
Outbrave the heart most daring on the earth,
Pluck the young sucking cubs from the she-bear,
Yea, mock the lion when ’a roars for prey,
To win the lady.
(MV 2.1.24–31)

The Prince of Morocco clearly thinks that telling adventure

stories from exotic lands will win Portia’s hand. While this
tactic does not work on Portia, Shakespeare returns to this
narrative in Othello with a female protagonist, Desdemona,
on whom it does work. Othello is also related to the Prince
of Morocco in their belief that their births, although
foreign, are nonetheless worthy of the women they desire.
During the famous casket test for Portia’s hand, the Prince
of Morocco does not hesitate to declare that he matches
Portia in birth: ‘I do in birth deserve her, and in fortunes, /
In graces and in qualities of breeding’ (MV 2.7.32–3). Thus,
we see Shakespeare borrowing from and imitating the
characterizations of villainous ‘negro Moors’ in his earlier
work only to abandon those characterizations to create
figures who are still rhetorically gifted but also high born
and self-assured.

2. Places The geographic landscape of Othello also helps

to reveal the early modern context into which Shakespeare
was imagining this world. Like many of Shakespeare’s
plays, Othello has a split geography with the first act of the
play taking place in Venice and the remaining acts taking
place in Cyprus. In a comedic structure, this type of
geographic split usually emphasizes the licensing freedom
that is enabled outside of the city walls. Think, for example,
of the geographic split in A Midsummer Night’s Dream in
which Athens represents the world of the law and
patriarchal order (Egeus appeals to Theseus, the Duke of
Athens, to force his daughter to marry Demetrius instead of
Lysander), and the woods represent the world of holiday
and licentiousness (in which the lovers end up paired
according to the women’s initial wishes: Hermia with
Lysander and Helena with Demetrius). Of course, tragic
tales can contain a geographic split as well in order to
mark a break from order into chaos. Most famously, King
Lear’s movement from the court to the heath marks the
political, familial and emotional breaks that the titular hero
experiences. In Othello, the geographic split seems to
signify the movement from Christian civilization to an
unstable outpost.
Venice, however, was not viewed as the same kind of city
as London in early modern England. In fact, Venice was
both lauded and reviled in the early modern English
imagination. It was lauded for being a cosmopolitan and
diverse city; for establishing a formidable maritime power;
and for enabling most of Europe’s trade with Africa and the
East. Venice was a cosmopolitan city in which people from
different races, ethnicities and religions lived and worked
together, and had a ‘reputation as a multicultural republic’
(Drakakis, 3). Clearly, this was one of the factors that drew
Shakespeare to making Venice the setting for The
Merchant of Venice and Othello, two plays that investigate
what it means to live in a cosmopolitan city during times of
increasing international trade (one play explores this
through a comedic lens and one through a tragic one). As
already noted, Venice was also admired for its complex
political and social structures. To the early modern English,
then, Venice seemed wealthier, more sophisticated and
more outward-facing than London. Although it could not
have been fully clear at the time, Venice’s international
power was waning by 1600, prompted in part by the loss of
Cyprus to the Turks in the Fourth Ottoman–Venetian War
(1570–1573). Thus, the Duke’s fears that Cyprus must be
protected at all costs against the Turkish invasion reflect
the growing awareness of the fragility of this ‘multicultural
republic’.
Yet Venice also became a symbol of hedonistic excess in
the early modern English imagination. John Drakakis has
claimed that ‘By the 1590s Venice had clearly become a
byword for the exoticism of travel’ (Drakakis, 4). Associated
with the goddess of love, Venus, Venice fascinated the early
modern English because of the city’s more liberal
treatment of sexual relations where prostitution was
actually regulated by the state and involved thousands of
women. Writing a few years after the creation of Othello,
Thomas Coryate included his impressions of the courtesans
in Venice in a travel book he published in 1611:
As for the number of these Venetian Courtesans it is very great. For it is
thought there are of them in the whole city and other adjacent places, as
Muraon, Malomocco, &c. at the least twenty thousand, whereof many are
esteemed so loose, that they are said to pen their quivers to every arrow. A
most ungodly thing without doubt that there should be a toleration of such
licentious wantons in so glorious, so potent, so renowned a City.
(Coryate, 264)

Thus, Iago gives voice to many early modern English

stereotypes about Venice when he describes Othello and
Desdemona as ‘an erring Barbarian and a super-subtle
Venetian’ (1.3.356–7), tagging the former as the foreigner
and the latter as the whore who are both granted too much
liberty in Venice. Likewise, Iago activates the stereotype of
the ‘loose’ Venetian woman when he tells Othello, ‘I know
our country disposition well – / In Venice they do let God
see the pranks / They dare not show their husbands; their
best conscience / Is not to leave’t undone, but keep’t
unknown’ (3.3.204–7). In this statement, Iago manages
both to vilify Desdemona and denigrate Othello as an
unschooled outsider in Venice.
In Othello, Cyprus looks as if it will represent the
opposite of Venice: the margin instead of the centre.
Cyprus is after all an island at the far east of the
Mediterranean, marking it as closer to the religions and
cultures of the East than to those of the West. Cyprus is the
territory over which empires clash; it is the colony and not
the empire itself. But as is true of so many of Shakespeare’s
plays with split geographies, the centre and margins end
up bleeding together in significant ways. In Othello there is
the uncanny sense that Venice and Cyprus are related in
their mythological associations with Venus: Cyprus is
thought to be Venus’s birthplace (and another of Venus’s
names is Cypris). Cyprus is the contested ground over
which empires battle, but it also serves to highlight the
problems inherent in those empires. After all, the Turkish
threat is destroyed by the natural forces of a storm, but the
island releases the violence lurking beneath the surface of
the Venetian defenders of the Christian faith. The play
seems to be asking if the violence was inherent to them in
the first place, or if there was something about Cyrpus that
made them change.
Two other locations play roles in Othello even though
they are not depicted and are only referenced: Aleppo and
Barbary. Aleppo (currently in part of modern day Syria) was
captured by the Turks in 1517, and the Turks ‘integrated it
into the commercial system of their empire as a major
center for their silk trade’ (Molà, 57). Othello commits
suicide mentioning that he has ‘done the state some
service’ (5.2.337) in Aleppo in the past, and that brief
mention serves to conjure a past in which the Venetian
empire might have won more of the East. It is a fantasy, of
course, but one to which Othello clings especially at the
moment of his death (Kastan, 108). Barbary, on the other
hand, appears at first glance to represent a geographical
region and a people who are wholly other and distant from
the Venetians. In early modern English, Barbary was slang
for the region of North Africa associated with Berbers or
Moors, the so-called Barbary Coast of Africa. For instance,
Iago, riling Brabantio with images of his daughter’s sexual
relations with Othello, states, ‘you’ll have your daughter
covered with a Barbary horse’ (1.1.109–10). In Iago’s logic,
Desdemona has not only disobeyed her father but also flung
herself into a relationship with someone so different as to
be bestial. And yet even the certainty of the cultural,
religious and racial divides between the Venetians and
those from Barbary begins to collapse when Desdemona
sings the ‘Willow Song’ and explains that she learned it
from her mother’s maid, Barbary (4.3.24). Although
Barbary is never mentioned again, the audience is left
wondering who this maid was, how she came to be
associated with Desdemona’s family, and what exactly she
meant to Desdemona in terms of Desdemona’s
understandings of race and class.

3. Peoples So what exactly was a Moor in Shakespeare’s

world? It is clear from the theatrical references already
noted that Moor was an elastic term in the early modern
period that could encompass Muslims (i.e., a religious
group), Africans (i.e., a geographical group), blacks (i.e., a
racial group), atheists (i.e., a non-religious group) and
others. The Oxford English Dictionary provides the
following definition for Moor:

a native or inhabitant of ancient Mauretania [see 4.2.226], a region of North

Africa corresponding to parts of present-day Morocco and Algeria. Later
usually: a member of a Muslim people of mixed Berber and Arab descent
inhabiting north-western Africa (now mainly present-day Mauritania), who
in the 8th cent. conquered Spain. In the Middle Ages, and as late as the
17th cent., the Moors were widely supposed to be mostly black or very
dark-skinned, although the existence of ‘white Moors’ was recognized. Thus
the term was often used, even into the 20th cent., with the sense ‘black
person.’
(OED n.2)

I include this long and wide-ranging definition to

demonstrate that the term Moor was unstable when
Shakespeare was writing Othello. As Anthony Barthelemy
has cleverly written about the OED’s definition, ‘Moor can
mean, then, non-black Muslim, black Christian, or black
Muslim. The only certainty a reader has when he sees the
word is that the person referred to is not a [white]
Christian’ (Barthelemy, 7). Thus, the title of Shakespeare’s
play, Othello: The Moor of Venice, juxtaposes an unstable
personal descriptor with a stable geographical location.
Hearing the title of his play, Shakespeare’s audience
members probably had various and potentially
contradictory definitions and corresponding images in their
minds. While not exactly analogous, I think something
similar could be said for many in the US and the UK today
for the word Arab: for some it will signify an ethnicity, for
others it will signify a religious affiliation, for others it will
signify a linguist grouping, and for still others it will signify
a race. One can argue vociferously that the term Arab
actually refers to an extremely heterogeneous panethnic
grouping of peoples from western Asia, North Africa, the
Horn of Africa and parts of the Arabian peninsula, but the
terms Arab and Muslim often get conflated.4 So it should
not surprise us that there was confusion about Moors in the
early modern period. It is not that the early modern English
were quaint and unworldly, but rather that designations of
identity often become fungible when race, nationality
and/or religion are evoked.
How did the early modern confusion over the term Moor
affect staging practices for Othello? What did Othello look
like on Shakespeare’s stage? While I will describe the
performance history of Othello in more detail, it is
important to address the history of performing Othello’s
Moorishness with regards to race and colour here. We
believe the title role was performed by Richard Burbage,
the actor who also played the leading roles in Hamlet and
King Lear, because elegies written at his death in 1619
include praise for his portrayal of Othello:

But let me not forget one chiefest part

Wherein, beyond the rest, he mov’d the heart,
The grievèd Moor, made jealous by a slave,
Who sent his wife to fill a timeless grave,
Then slew himself upon the bloody bed.
All these and many more with him are dead.
(Var, 396)

From these remarks we know that Othello was a popular

role with which Burbage’s identity as an actor was
attached: he was the ‘grievèd Moor’.
Although few documents reveal much about early modern
staging practices,5 there is one unusual document that
depicts Aaron, the Moor from Titus Andronicus: a drawing
done by Henry Peacham around 1595 (now called the
Longleat manuscript). The manuscript contains a drawing
of several characters from Titus Andronicus, and Aaron, the
Moor, who is figured in the drawing on the far right, is
clearly portrayed as having black skin and a curly black
Afro. Because the detailing of the drawing is imprecise, it is
impossible to discern if Aaron’s skin colour is a factor of
dyeing or cloth covering. Nonetheless, Aaron’s hair appears
to be a wig affixed with a headband tied round his temples.
It is now widely assumed that diverse prosthetics were
used to convey racial differences in early modern
performances: herb-based dyes (usually woad), soot, coal,
jet, oil-based ointments, dyed black cloth (masks, gloves
and stockings), exotic costuming and wigs.6
The text of Othello seems to suggest that Othello was
portrayed as black on the early modern stage. While most
of the racialized rhetoric comes from Roderigo, Iago and
Brabantio before the audience ever sees Othello, scholars
have debated whether the rhetoric is metadramatic, that is,
indicating how Othello should be performed, or is in
opposition to the man we eventually encounter with our
own eyes (Vaughan, Performing, 93–110). For instance,
Roderigo calls Othello ‘thicklips’ (1.1.65); Iago refers to
him as ‘an old black ram’ (1.1.87) and later as ‘black
Othello’ (2.3.29); Brabantio claims that Othello has a ‘sooty
bosom’ (1.2.70); and the Duke, when praising Othello to
Brabantio, states ‘Your son-in-law is far more fair than
black’ (1.3.291). Even Othello himself refers to his
blackness, wondering if Desdemona has been unfaithful
because he is black: ‘Haply for I am black / And have not
those soft parts of conversation / That chamberers have’
(3.3.267–9). And then he pronounces that Desdemona’s
virtue is now as black as his face: ‘Her name, that was as
fresh / As Dian’s visage, is now begrimed and black / As
mine own face’ (3.3.389–91). When one places the Longleat
manuscript drawing of Aaron, the Moor in blackface
alongside these lines from Othello it appears that Othello’s
blackness could have been portrayed in a literal fashion on
the early modern stage.
In fact, it was not until the early nineteenth century that
Othello’s blackness was questioned by scholars and actors.
None other than Samuel Taylor Coleridge appears to be the
first to question the validity of portraying Othello as a black
man. In 1818 he wrote:

Can we imagine him [Shakespeare] so utterly ignorant as to make a

barbarous negro plead royal birth, – at a time, too, when negroes were not
known except as slaves? … Besides, if we could in good earnest believe
Shakespeare ignorant of the distinction [between a Moor and a ‘negro’],
still why should we adopt one disagreeable possibility instead of a ten times
greater and more pleasing probability? It is a common error to mistake
epithets applied by the dramatis personae to each other as truly descriptive
of what the audience ought to see or know. No doubt Desdemona saw
Othello’s visage in his mind; yet, as we are constituted, and most surely as
an English audience was disposed in the beginning of the seventeenth
century, it would be something monstrous to conceive this beautiful
Venetian girl falling in love with a veritable negro. It would argue a
disproportionateness, a want of balance, in Desdemona, which Shakespeare
does not appear to have in the least contemplated.
(Coleridge, 385–6)
Coleridge’s logic is very strained in this argument, for he
implicitly acknowledges that Othello was performed as
black in the past, the ‘disagreeable possibility’, but he also
wants to argue that performances should now move to the
more ‘pleasing probability’ that Othello is not black but
light-skinned. And finally he bluntly states that a good
‘Venetian girl’ could never love a ‘veritable negro’. Despite
the fact that Coleridge attempts to cloak his argument in
historicist terms, his arguments against Othello’s blackness
are a clear reflection of his own time, the early nineteenth
century when the transatlantic slave trade was fully
established and anti-miscegenation laws were enacted.
While Coleridge’s argument must seem flimsy, racist and
sexist by today’s standards, it proved extremely influential
in the nineteenth century and helped to initiate what has
come to be called the great ‘Bronze Age of Othello’,7 the
period in which Othello was portrayed as tanned, tawny,
and off-white (i.e., definitively non-black). Edmund Kean,
one of the most famous Shakespearean actors of the era,
was the first to stage the new, lighter-skinned Othello.
Writing in 1869, Kean’s biographer discussed his
race/colour decision:

Kean regarded it as a gross error to make Othello either a negro or a black,

and accordingly altered the conventional black to the light brown which
distinguishes the Moors by virtue of their descent from the Caucasian
race…. Betterton, Quin, Mossop, Barry, Garrick, and John Kemble all played
the part with black faces, but it was reserved for Kean to innovate, and
Coleridge to justify, the attempt to substitute a light brown for the
traditional black. The alteration has been sanctioned by subsequent usage.
(Hawkins, 221)
Thus, from the 1820s until the 1870s, it was standard
practice to have Othello portrayed as light-skinned or
bronzed. But as is clear from Coleridge’s and Kean’s
biographer’s comments, nineteenth-century artists were
well aware that they were breaking from Shakespeare’s
tradition: they explicitly acknowledge that Othello was
portrayed as black on the early modern stage. This point is
frequently glossed over when scholars and performers
today claim that the early modern understanding of Moor
was vague, fungible and elastic. While the meaning of the
term itself can be unclear, in the nineteenth century there
was a tacit agreement that theatrical performances of
Moors in early modern England were not: Othello was a
black man (or, rather, a white man in black makeup).
While Othello explicitly portrays a Moor, the play
implicitly asks its audience to imagine another distinct
group, the Turks. After all, it is the Turks who pose the
threat to Cyprus that makes the Venetians require their
mercenary soldier, the Moor of Venice. So how were Turks
conceived in the early modern period? Although the term
Turk seems somewhat more precise than Moor, it too was
elastic in early modern English usage, encompassing the
Turkish people, Muslims in general and the Ottoman
Empire. Early modern English texts catalogue the long
litany of stereotypes associated with Turks: barbarous,
cruel, despotic, tyrannical and sexually voracious
(seraglios, the private living quarters for the Sultan’s wives
and concubines, were a favourite topic in early modern
literature and drama).8 Furthermore, there were
widespread stories about the abduction and enforced
slavery of Christians by Turkish pirates.9 The underlying
early modern English narrative was that the Turks
threatened to engulf all Western civilization militarily,
economically and even sexually.
 Many early modern English fears were well founded.
After all, the Ottoman Empire was large, powerful and
rapidly expanding. In the 1580s, for instance, the Ottoman
Empire controlled part or all of modern day Turkey, Syria,
Iraq, Egypt, Libya, Tunisia, Algeria and much of Eastern
Europe. Writing in 1603, Richard Knolles gives voice to
early modern English anxieties about the strength of the
Ottoman Empire:

So that by this we haue alreadie said is easily to be gathered how much the
Turke is too strong for any one the neighbor princes, either Mahometanes
or Christians, bordering vpon him, and therefore to be of them the more
feared.… As for the Turk, the most dangerous and professed enemie of the
Christian commonweale, be his strength so great, yea and happily greater
too than is before declared (the greatness of his dominions and empire
considered) yet is he not to be thought therefore inuincible, or his power
indeed so great as it in shew seemeth for to be.
(Knolles, 5G2i)

Knolles suggests that the Ottoman Empire is too strong to

be defeated by Muslims and Christians alone; divine
intervention is required to defeat a ‘strength so great’. In
fact, the Ottoman Empire maintained a strong presence in
Europe through the end of the seventeenth-century.
The anxiety about not only the power, but also the lure of
the Turk was expressed in the early modern English
colloquial phrase ‘to turn Turk’. When the alarm bell is
rung on the island of Cyprus during Cassio’s drunken
brawl, Othello enters asking:

Why, how now, ho? From whence ariseth this?

Are we turned Turks? and to ourselves do that
Which heaven hath forbid the Ottomites?
 (2.3.165–7)

In early modern English, ‘to turn Turk’ was always used in

a derogatory sense because, on the most basic level, this
phrase signifies the threat of becoming barbaric or losing
control. Yet the subtexts of the phrase reveal anxieties
about (1) how to distinguish between groups, religions and
racial identities; and (2) the nature of identity itself. If the
emphasis is placed on the noun, ‘to turn TURK’, there is an
implicit understanding that Englishness and Christianity
are the opposites of Turkishness. ‘To turn Turk’ would then
imply becoming something wholly separate, foreign and
anathema to English Christianity. Yet if the emphasis is
place on the verb, ‘to TURN Turk’, the implication is at
odds with the previous sentiment. When the possibility of
turning is emphasized, one gets the sense that identities
are subject to change, self-constructions may be transient
and impermanent, and one’s identity may be altered by
both internal desires (conversions) and external threats
(forced conversions). In fact, a society would not need a
phrase like ‘to turn Turk’ if (1) there were no anxieties
about the differences between groups or the abilities to
distinguish between groups; or (2) identity was conceived
as fixed and stable. Yet it is clear that neither was the case
in early modern England.
This is precisely the murky terrain that Shakespeare
explores in Othello. After all, Brabantio is furious not only
that his daughter has married without his permission, but
also that the Venetian state fails to recognize the essential
ways in which Othello is ill-suited for his daughter. He
cannot fathom that the Duke will support the marriage:
‘For if such actions may have passage free / Bond-slaves
and pagans shall our statesmen be’ (1.2.98–9). Brabantio
believes in a world in which there are real, tangible and
fixed differences between Venetian statesmen on the one
hand, and pagan slaves on the other. Yet the world of
Othello, in which there already exists a Moor of Venice, a
mercenary soldier who has fought for the Christians
against the Turks and Muslims, shows how out of touch
Brabantio’s beliefs are. Even though Brabantio’s beliefs
reveal him to be detached from his contemporary Venetian
state, the play does not render those beliefs as foolish or
incoherent. On the contrary, the play ends with Othello
committing suicide, narrating a story about his divided
sense of self as both Christian and Turk.

Set you down this,

And say besides that in Aleppo once,
Where a malignant and a turbanned Turk
Beat a Venetian and traduced the state,
I took by th’ throat the circumcised dog
And smote him – thus!
(5.2.349–54)

Othello commits suicide enacting the roles of both the

Christian defender in the outposts of contested territory
(Aleppo was controlled by the Ottoman Empire in the
1580s) and the ‘turbanned Turk’ who must be excised. It
seems almost impossible to experience the end of Othello
without hearing the pang of nostalgia for a world in which
Christians and Turks are clearly and easily distinguished.
In other words, there is an implicit longing for some
certainty about the differences between barbarians and the
civilized, Turk and Venetian, Muslim and Christian. The
reader/audience member is left asking how near or far this
nostalgic position is from Brabantio’s?
The early modern investment in conversion is also
implicated in Othello’s investigation of the colloquial
phrase ‘to turn Turk’. Thomas Kyd’s Soliman and Perseda
(1599) explicitly investigates the nature of religious
conversions by staging an unwilling conversion to Islam.
Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice takes up the topic
by presenting both a willing conversion to Christianity
through Shylock’s daughter Jessica and a forced conversion
to Christianity through Shylock. In Othello, however, the
eponymous hero’s religion is left vague, once again inviting
the audience to ponder precisely what it means for a
character to be the Moor of Venice. When Othello relates
the story of his life, he describes in equivocal terms how he
was ‘sold to slavery’ and his ‘redemption thence’ (1.3.139).
Does his use of ‘redemption’ in that sentence mean his
salvation from slavery or his salvation through Christ?
Things are further muddled in the famous temptation scene
(3.3) when Othello kneels vowing ‘black vengeance’
(3.3.450). As Iago kneels beside him, stating ‘Do not rise
yet’ (3.3.465), theatrically the scene can look like two men
kneeling together in prayer. And several productions have
interpreted this scene as Othello’s reversion to Islam, in
which men pray together without women present, by
kneeling and touching their heads to the ground in
supplication to Allah (see, for example, Stuart Burge’s 1965
film version of Othello starring Laurence Olivier). If this
interpretation was explicit in early modern stagings, then
the colloquial phrase ‘to turn Turk’ would resonate in a
horrifically literal sense: the ‘turbanned Turk’ who maligns
the Venetian state in one of the farthest outposts of the
Ottoman Empire should be smitten by the long arm of the
Lord in a Christian narrative.
The scene in which Othello and Iago kneel together,
however, also looks like a bizarre inversion of a marriage
rite. After all, Iago pledges:

Witness that here Iago doth give up

The execution of his wit, hands, heart,
To wronged Othello’s service. Let him command
And to obey shall be in me remorse
What bloody business ever.
(3.3.468–72)

By giving up his ‘hands’ and ‘heart’ and pledging that he

will ‘obey’ Othello’s command, Iago places himself in the
role of a subordinate and perhaps also in the role of a wife,
displacing Desdemona in Othello’s heart. The scene ends
with Iago punctuating this pledge by making himself
Othello’s property for eternity: ‘I am your own for ever’
(3.3.482). While many modern directors have interpreted
this scene as revealing Iago’s hidden motive – his
homoerotic love for Othello – it may be slightly more
complex than that. The scene implicitly links religious
conversions with the conversions that women make when
they become wives. Once again, we can see that
Shakespeare was experimenting with this connection in his
other Venetian play, The Merchant of Venice, in which
Jessica’s conversion to Christianity is linked with her
conversion from being Shylock’s daughter to being
Lorenzo’s wife. In Othello, Desdemona makes it clear that
she has been made wholly new through her marriage to
Othello. When Brabantio asks her to whom she owes her
‘obedience’ (1.3.180), she makes it clear that marriage
converts a woman’s duties from father to husband: ‘But
here’s my husband: / And so much duty as my mother
showed / To you, preferring you before her father, / So
much I challenge that I may profess / Due to the Moor my
lord’ (1.3.185–9).
Just as there were early modern anxieties about the
potential to revert to one’s older religious beliefs (Jewish
converts to Christianity, after all, were not labelled as
‘Christians’ but as ‘Marranos’ (swine) in Spain and
Portugal) there were also anxieties about conversions and
female sexuality. Linking the colloquial phrase ‘to turn
Turk’ with female sexuality, Othello complains that
Desdemona is all too ready to convert and turn whenever
her desires are peaked:

Sir, she can turn, and turn, and yet go on

And turn again. And she can weep, sir, weep.
And she’s obedient: as you say, obedient,
Very obedient.
(4.1.253–6)

The problem with women, Othello seems to suggest, is that

the qualities that men most value and praise – their
willingness to turn from father to husband, and their
obedience – can be the most dangerous ones. For if women
are willing to stray from the duty they owe to their fathers,
are they not already primed to stray from the duty they
then owe their husbands? This sexist logic, of course,
comes directly from Iago in the temptation scene, revealing
that it is Othello and not Desdemona who is all too prompt
to revert from his duties to a spouse (3.3.209–11). Yet
Othello never acknowledges this fact even after he realizes
that he has unjustly killed Desdemona (‘speak / Of one that
loved not wisely, but too well’ 5.2.341–2). It is up to the
audience to ponder the nature of conversions, faith and
duty.
Othello presents a society in which there is so much
global economic and political traffic that the distinctions
between Venetian and Turk, Christian and Muslim, and
father/daughter and husband/wife are increasingly
challenged. The play is constantly setting up binaries,
which are then destabilized. On the most fundamental
level, the play asks what it is to be human and how
humanity is differentiated from being an animal. As many
readers and audience members quickly realize, Othello is
riddled with references to animals and birds. Daws, rams,
ewes, horses, guinea-hens, baboons, cats, puppies, asses,
dogs, lions, parrots, goats, toads, monkeys, wolves, minxes,
ravens, bears, crocodiles, dear, gulls, swans, vipers and
other creatures litter the dialogue of Othello (my count
puts the references around 40). Iago introduces most of the
animal imagery at the beginning of the play, and then in the
temptation scene pointedly asks Othello, ‘Are you a man?’
(3.3.377). It should not be surprising that Othello
introduces most of the animal imagery from that point
forward, including his infamous outburst to Lodovico, ‘You
are welcome, sir, to Cyprus. Goats and monkeys!’ (4.1.263).
As scholars working in animal studies have noted,
societies that draw sharp distinctions between, and
hierarchies among, human and non-human animals often
create sharp distinctions between, and hierarchies among,
different human races.10 Thus, Iago’s rhetoric at the
beginning of the play reads as a classic example of an
attempt to create and maintain social hierarchies based on
race by linking Othello’s race with non-human animals.
Talking to Desdemona’s father, Iago rails: ‘you’ll have your
daughter covered with a Barbary horse; you’ll have your
nephews neigh to you’ (1.1.109–11). The difference
between Desdemona’s Venetian identity and Othello’s
Moorish identity is as clear as the distinctions between
humans and horses, Iago declares, emphasizing that their
coupling is as unnatural as bestiality. Likewise, when Iago
attempts to convince Othello that Desdemona is having an
affair with Cassio, he paints their sexual behaviour in
bestial terms, stating that it would be impossible to get the
‘ocular proof’ (3.3.363) of their affair even if they were ‘as
prime as goats; as hot as monkeys, / As salt as wolves in
pride’ (3.3.406–7).
 Othello’s adoption of Iago’s terms, his unselfconscious
echoing of the animals Iago uses to represent an overactive
sexual drive, serves to signal his internalization of the
social hierarchies Iago has established as well. For while
Othello begins the play declaring that he is worthy of
Desdemona both in terms of birth and value, he quickly
begins to accept that his blackness renders him unworthy
and that Desdemona’s desire for him renders her
untrustworthy. Furthermore, Desdemona, whom Othello
once referred to in the most human terms as his ‘fair
warrior’ (2.1.180) before he thought she had cuckolded
him, is now linked almost exclusively with animals in his
rhetoric: ‘lewd minx’ (3.3.478), ‘chuck’ (3.4.49) and
‘crocodile’ (4.1.245). Equally disturbing, however, is
Othello’s absorption of Iago’s rhetoric that he himself is an
animal. Tacitly accepting Iago’s racist hierarchies in which
Moors are non-human animals, Othello kills himself
claiming that he is the ‘turbanned Turk’ who is a
‘circumcised dog’ (5.2.351, 353). To Iago’s earlier question,
‘Are you a man?’ (3.3.377) Othello ends by implicitly
denying his humanity and proclaiming his animality.

Othello and the Audience

Iago’s question about what distinguishes men from animals
resonates particularly loudly throughout Othello because of
the play’s unique positioning of the audience. Unlike most
other Shakespearean tragedies but similar to many
comedies, the audience knows more than the titular tragic
hero. Othello, after all, is tricked into committing murder,
and the audience is made complicit in the trick by being
Iago’s confidant throughout the play: he speaks directly to
us as he plots Othello’s destruction. So the audience is
positioned as distinctly different from Othello.
As many scholars and theatre artists have noted, the
affordance of knowledge can make the audience extremely
uncomfortable. More than with any other play, there are
stories about audience members interrupting performances
of Othello. The earliest extant account of an audience
reaction actually records the fact that the audience is
moved beyond measure by Desdemona’s death. In 1610,
Henry Jackson recorded the audience’s reaction to a
performance of Othello in Oxford:

But truly the celebrated Desdemona, slain in our presence by her husband,
although she pleaded her case very effectively throughout, yet moved [us]
more after she was dead, when lying on her bed, entreated the pity of the
spectators by her very countenance.11

The audience at the Oxford performance willingly suspend

their disbelief, shelving their knowledge that the boy-actor
who played Desdemona would live to perform again.
Moreover, there were numerous reports throughout history
of audience members reacting as if the events are real.
Patrons at a French performance of Othello in 1792, for
example, were moved to ‘a universal tumult. Tears, groans,
and menaces resounded from all parts of the theatre; and
what was still more demonstrative, and more alarming,
several of the prettiest women in Paris fainted in the most
conspicuous boxes and were publicly carried out of the
house’ (quoted in Rosenberg, 32).
More striking, however, are the accounts of audience
members being so moved that they feel the need to
interrupt the course of events. There is an anecdote about
a woman at a nineteenth-century production of Othello in
Charleston, South Carolina, who felt compelled to yell to
Othello, who was delivering his speech over the sleeping
Desdemona, that ‘She did not do it’ (quoted in Kolin, 4).
Likewise, the French writer Stendhal records the following
anecdote: ‘Last year [August 1822] a soldier who was
standing guard in the theatre in Baltimore, upon seeing
Othello, in the fifth act of the tragedy of that name, about
to kill Desdemona, cried out: “It will never be said that in
my presence a damned nigger killed a white woman”. At
the same moment the soldier shot at the actor who was
playing Othello and broke his arm’ (Stendhal, 22). Stendhal
comments, ‘Now that soldier was entertaining an illusion:
he believed in the reality of what was happening on the
stage’ (Stendhal, 22). And there are many other stories of
audience members who entertain the illusion that Othello is
reality. For instance, the director Margaret Webster writes
about one girl’s reaction to the 1943 Broadway production,
‘Once, as Emilia, I was waiting in the extreme downstage
corner for my last entrance while Othello and Desdemona
played out their scene. I heard a young girl’s voice from the
front row whispering over and over again, “Oh God, don’t
let him kill her … don’t let him kill her … don’t let him kill
her”’ (Webster, 114–15).
These anecdotes may not all be true, but they reveal a
desire for agency on the audience’s part: a desire to protect
Desdemona from an unjust death. While the events in
Hamlet, King Lear and Macbeth are just as tragic, audience
members do not feel compelled to intervene in Hamlet’s
duel with Laertes, or in Lear’s banishment of Cordelia or
even in Macbeth’s employment of the murderers. Despite
the tragic nature, these plots do not move the audience to
engage directly because the audience is on equal footing
with the tragic hero: the audience knows as much as the
hero. In Othello, however, the audience knows much more
than Othello and is therefore placed in the position of
either being complicit with the tragic action (i.e., by
watching silently and doing nothing) or attempting to
thwart that tragedy (i.e., by protesting, shouting or
disrupting the action).
While the latter behaviour may strike one as
inappropriate in the theatre, many actors and directors
wonder why more audience members do not intervene in
Othello. Writing about Gregory Doran’s 2004 RSC
production in which he played Iago, Antony Sher explains,
‘Throughout the run, I waited for the performance when
someone would stand up and shout, “Stop it!”’ (Sher, 64).
Sher continues explaining that by the end of the play, ‘The
dangerous wordsmith may be silent, but in my head this
question always rang out: You saw what was happening –
why didn’t you stop it?’ (Sher, 69). Likewise, the director
Peter Sellars describes Othello as a play that is a
‘permanent provocation’ (Sellars, 7). Critiquing the play’s
structure, Sellars argues that the audience’s complicity
through silence not only renders the audience culpable but
also vulnerable: ‘Shakespeare creates a portrait of silence
that is complicit with mass murder, that hopes by not
uttering the truth to save its own skin, but that will in fact
become the next victim when the lie follows the inexorable
course’ (Sellars, 10). The play, therefore, seems to be built
on an uneven plain, one which forces the audience to take a
side.

Making Objects Pornographic in Othello

Lynda Boose astutely writes, ‘As most academics who teach
Shakespeare know, the question the observant student
wants to ask is the prurient one that is built into the text of
this play: whether Othello and Desdemona did or did not
consummate their marriage. The question is unavoidable. It
is layered into the dynamics of the drama in a way that it is
not, for instance, in Romeo and Juliet. Because we know
what happened in Juliet’s bedroom, the consummation
never becomes an issue of obsessive curiosity to the
audience. The dramatic construction of Othello, however,
seduces its readers and watchers into mimicking Iago’s
first question to Othello: “Are you fast married?”’ (Boose,
‘Let’, 24). Did Othello and Desdemona do it before the
action of the play? Or, did they do it immediately after
Othello is given his assignment to go to Cyprus? Or,
perhaps they did it that first night in Cyprus? Or, more
frustratingly for them, perhaps they never consummated
the marriage at all? Of course, there are no definitive
answers in the text, and thus the audience member/reader
is invited to ponder and imagine exactly what goes on in
their bed and exactly when.
Sex is central to the plot of Othello: it is the action that
Iago accuses Desdemona of performing outside of her
marriage; and is never usually witnessed by anyone beyond
the participants. Iago makes this clear when Othello
demands ‘ocular proof’ (3.3.363), stating: ‘Would you, the
supervisor, grossly gape on? / Behold her topped?’
(3.3.398–9). As Iago knows from first-hand experience, not
seeing and only imagining others having sex can be as
titillating as, and perhaps even more upsetting than,
actually witnessing the act. Although Iago’s motives for
hating the Moor are notoriously muddled, he does state
twice that he fears Othello has had an affair with his wife
Emilia:

I hate the Moor

And it is thought abroad that ’twixt my sheets
He’s done my office. I know not if’t be true,
But I for mere suspicion in that kind
Will do as if for surety.
(1.3.385–9)

For that I do suspect the lusty Moor

Hath leaped into my seat, the thought whereof
Doth like a poisonous mineral gnaw my inwards…
And nothing can or shall content my soul
Till I am evened with him, wife for wife…
 (2.1.293–7)

And Emilia makes it clear that she is aware that there are
rumours of her infidelity with Othello, stating that ‘The
Moor’s abused by some most villainous knave, / Some base
notorious knave, some scurvy fellow’ (4.2.141–2) because
‘some such squire he was / That turned your [Iago’s] wit
the seamy side without / And made you to suspect me with
the Moor’ (4.2.147–9).
Many scholars, actors and directors have been inspired
by Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s argument that Iago’s
soliloquies reveal ‘the motive-hunting of a motiveless
malignity’ (Coleridge, 388). That is to say, that Iago does
not appear to have one fixed motive for his actions; rather,
he hunts for ones that will appeal to others (like Roderigo
and the audience in general). Following Coleridge’s general
argument, these scholars see Iago as embodying the
improvisational qualities that the early modern English
audience would have ascribed to the devil and Vice figures
from morality plays.
Yet some directors have staged productions in which
Iago’s motive is clearly and simply to revenge a prior affair
between Emilia and Othello (most famously Peter Sellars’s
2009 production, starring Philip Seymour Hoffman as
Iago). Emilia, after all, appears much more knowledgeable
than Desdemona when it comes to sex, sexual desires and
pragmatic justifications for extra-marital affairs.
Responding to Desdemona’s query if ‘there be such women
do abuse their husbands / In such gross kind’ (4.3.61–2),
Emilia provides a lengthy justification for the ‘abuse’. First,
she jokes that she would only have an affair in the dark and
not ‘by this heavenly light’ (4.3.65); then she rationalizes
that ‘The world’s a huge thing: it is a great price / For a
small vice’ (4.3.68–9); and then she argues that men and
women are the same and therefore have the same
‘affections’, ‘Desires for sport’, and ‘frailty’ (4.3.99, 100). In
other words, Emilia appears to be well suited to Iago: they
are both skilled and pragmatic rhetoricians, who pay
attention to the intricacies of argumentation.12 This point is
further emphasized when certain lines are reassigned to
Emilia. Honigmann reassigned the line, ‘This Lodovico is a
proper man’ (4.3.34–5) to be spoken by Emilia instead of
Desdemona. In Emilia’s mouth, the line echoes Iago’s line,
‘Cassio’s a proper man’ (1.3.391). There is no textual
evidence to support this change (Honigmann states in the
footnote that he agrees with a ‘conjecture’ that the line
‘seems out of character’ for Desdemona); rather, it is an
interpretive decision that can and should be questioned. In
Desdemona’s mouth, however, the line might signal a
momentary recognition that she could have made an easier
marriage choice for herself.
Like the prurient questions that Othello inspires about
the sexual relationship between Othello and Desdemona, it
also inspires questions about the nature of the relationship
between Iago and Emilia. After all, Emilia appears to be on
very friendly terms with Desdemona, yet she steals the
handkerchief and stands by without saying a thing when
Desdemona searches frantically for it (3.4). Why would
Emilia betray her friend in such a fashion? The only clue we
get from Emilia is that Iago has ‘a hundred times / Wooed
[her] to steal it’ (3.3.296–7). And then she has the
enigmatic line about not knowing what Iago will do with it:
‘Heaven knows, not I, / I nothing, but to please his fantasy’
(3.3.302–3). Perhaps this signifies that Emilia does not
know what Iago will do with the handkerchief, but she
thinks she is nothing if she does not serve his desires. Or, it
could mean that Emilia thinks that Iago only imagines her
as serving his longings. Or, if one hears ‘I’ as ‘Ay’ (meaning
‘yes’), then perhaps Emilia is saying that she knows nothing
but how to please Iago’s wants. Each interpretation
implicates a different type of relationship between Emilia
and Iago.13
Recently many productions of Othello figure the
relationship as one defined by Iago’s abuse of Emilia and/or
Iago’s closeted homosexuality. That is, it has become
common to see productions of Othello in which Emilia is
figured as a battered wife, who does her husband’s bidding,
even when it goes against her own wishes and/or moral
compass, in order to keep him appeased and to maintain a
type of peace (see, for example, Trevor Nunn’s 1989
televised version of Othello, with Ian McKellen as Iago and
Zoe Wanamaker as Emilia). Sometimes the battered wife
interpretation is linked with an interpretation of Iago as a
frustrated and repressed homosexual (see, for example,
Oliver Parker’s 1995 film version of Othello starring
Kenneth Branagh as Iago). While in performance directors
and actors must have clear motives for the characters,
Othello as a text on the page is enigmatic and imprecise as
to the nature of the relationship (sexual and emotional)
between Iago and Emilia.
What is not enigmatic in Othello, however, is the way that
specific objects become tied with courtship, love, marriage,
sexual intercourse and cultural/racial differences. In
particular, the play forces the reader and the audience
member to focus on the handkerchief, the bedsheets and
the bed itself. These objects get charged with meanings
that transform when they are moved from the private realm
to a public one. Although we see Desdemona with the
handkerchief, it is Othello who alone claims for it especial
value and significance. At first, Othello tells Desdemona
that it was given to his mother by an Egyptian who claimed
it would keep Othello’s father ‘subdue[d]’ ‘to her love’ as
long as she kept it (3.4.61, 62). Othello then claims it was
made by a 200-year-old sibyl who used the silk of
‘hallowed’ worms and dyed it in the blood from the hearts
of virgins (3.4.75, 76).
While presenting a handkerchief dyed in ‘mummy’ may
seem like a horrific gift, dyeing handkerchiefs in mummy
was not uncommon in early modern England. In fact, the
practice was one that was both familiar (coming from
contemporary medicinal practices) and foreign (coming
from Egyptian burial practices). Richard Sugg details the
four sources, types and methods for extracting mummy
used in early modern medicine: ‘One is mineral pitch
[bitumen]; the second the matter derived from embalmed
Egyptian corpses; the third, the relatively recent bodies of
travellers, drowned by sandstorms in the Arabian deserts;
and the fourth, flesh taken from fresh corpses (usually
those of executed felons, and ideally within about three
days) and then treated and dried by Paracelsian
practitioners’ (Sugg, 15). Far from being a practice that
was viewed as wholly foreign, extracting mummy and
dyeing a cloth in it was a practice that united Africa and
Europe: it was both an ancient African practice and a
contemporary English one. As Ian Smith reminds us when
providing glosses for the uses of mummy in Othello,
Macbeth and The Merry Wives of Windsor, ‘Strange though
this idea of eating desiccated human flesh might appear, its
familiarity in England is registered by its frequent mention
among authors, including Shakespeare’ (Smith, ‘Othello’,
17).
The fact that the mummy-dyed handkerchief is the object
that metonymically stands in for the missing ‘ocular proof’
that Othello desires to determine whether Desdemona has
been unfaithful to him allows the reader or audience
member to question how agentive the cloth actually is.14
The handkerchief knits together Othello and Desdemona
with his African past and her European present; it weaves
their love together while it is in Desdemona’s possession;
and it unravels their lives when the Cypriot courtesan
Bianca is ordered to ‘take out the work’ by Cassio
(4.1.153). So are we as readers/audience members
supposed to believe that there is ‘magic in the web’ of the
handkerchief and that the tragic demise of Othello and
Desdemona’s relationship stems from the fact that Emilia
steals it to give to Iago?
Is the handkerchief supposed to have agency, actually
causing events to occur? Of course, this is another
enigmatic moment in Othello, especially when one realizes
that Othello tells a completely different story about the
handkerchief’s provenance at the end of the play. Othello
justifies killing Desdemona to Emilia and Gratiano by
explaining that he saw the handkerchief in Cassio’s hand,
‘It was a handkerchief, an antique token / My father gave
my mother’ (5.2.214–15). Is this contradiction an authorial
oversight? Or perhaps it signals Othello’s gift as a
storyteller once again? After all, Othello won Desdemona’s
heart by telling her fantastical tales about his childhood;
perhaps his story about her need to ‘Make it a darling’
(3.4.68) was simply just that – another good tale to make
her do what he wants. This interpretation would render the
handkerchief a lot less agentive and place power back in
the mouth of the human storyteller.
As many scholars have noted, however, the handkerchief
also serves as a symbol for the visual verification of
consummating a marriage. Lynda Boose argues, ‘What
Shakespeare was representing was a visually recognizable
reduction of Othello and Desdemona’s wedding-bed sheets,
the visual proof of their consummated marriage’ (Boose,
‘Othello’, 363). Arguing along similar lines, Edward Snow
writes that the handkerchief ‘is potent as visible proof of
Desdemona’s adultery largely because it subconsciously
evokes for Othello the blood-stained sheets of the wedding-
bed and his wife’s loss of virginity there’ (Snow, 390).
Boose and Snow, of course, are referring to another custom
that seems to unite Africa with Europe – the act of
displaying bloodied bedsheets after a wedding night to
prove the newly betrothed woman was in fact a virgin. The
handkerchief, which Iago describes as being ‘Spotted with
strawberries’ (3.3.438), symbolizes in miniature the
bedsheets which should be displayed with hymenial blood.
Othello and Desdemona’s wedding sheets are discussed
several times throughout the play. On their first night in
Cyprus Iago proclaims to Cassio that Othello ‘hath not yet
made wanton the night’ with Desdemona (2.3.16), and thus
invites Cassio to drink with him and to toast ‘happiness to
their sheets’ (2.3.26). Aurally the audience can hear an
echo of Iago’s earlier claim that he suspects that Othello
has done his ‘office’ ‘’twixt [his] sheets’ (1.3.387, 386).
Desdemona, of course, seems to cling to the idea that her
‘wedding sheets’ (4.2.107) are a private symbol of her love
for Othello. That is precisely why she asks Emilia to ‘lay’
them on her bed after Othello calls her ‘the cunning whore
of Venice’ (4.2.91). In her innocence, Desdemona believes
that the sheets reveal her steadfastness, love and purity.
She even asks to be buried in them if she should die
suddenly (‘If I do die before thee, prithee shroud me / In
one of these same sheets’ 4.3.22–3) because she continues
to believe the sheets reveal, express and project her love.
But the play reveals how easily private and personal
objects can be endowed with pornographic meaning when
trafficked in public discourse.
Thus, the play moves from small private objects, like the
handkerchief, to larger ones, like the wedding sheets, and
culminates with the whole bed. Tracing the way
Desdemona’s death on her bed was censored in
performance, Michael Neill argues that the play tips
towards pornography because it ‘capitulate[s] to Iago’s
poisoned vision at the very moment when it has seemed
poised to reaffirm the transcendent claims of their love’
(Neill, 412). The final scene of Othello, after all, is
dominated by the bed on which Desdemona sleeps and is
killed, the corpse of Emilia is placed and Othello commits
suicide. While the scene starts as a private encounter
between Desdemona and Othello, it quickly turns into a
public affair with Emilia, Montano, Gratiano, Iago, Lodovico
and Cassio entering in at various points. Mirroring the
audience whose gaze is never allowed to exist in an
uninvolved way, these public figures (many of whom are
representatives of the Venetian and Cypriot governments)
come into Desdemona’s bedroom as if clarity could be
achieved through witnessing. But Othello throws cold
water on one’s desire to see. Certainty is never achieved
through public viewing.

Othello and Scholarly Debates

Critical responses to Othello have ranged widely over the
400+ years since the play’s debut. While at the beginning
of the twenty-first century the play is firmly ensconced in
the canon both in terms of its position in literature and
drama curricula and its frequent revival on the stage (in
2015 there were at least 15 professional performances of
Othello in the US and the UK alone), critical assessments of
the play have not always been favourable. In fact, the first
criticism published about Othello was entirely negative.
Thomas Rymer, writing in 1693, included a scathing
critique of Othello based on the improbability of the plot,
the characters, and the play’s structure overall.

The Character of that State is to employ strangers in their Wars; But shall a
Poet thence fancy that they will set a Negro to be their General; or trust a
Moor to defend them against the Turk? With us a Black-amoor might rise to
be a Trumpeter; but Shakespear would not have him less than a
Lieutenant-General. With us a Moor might marry some little drab, or Small-
coal Wench: Shake-spear, would provide him the Daughter and Heir of
 some great Lord, or Privy-Councellor: And all the Town should reckon it a
very suitable match … Nothing is more odious in Nature than an
improbable lye; And, certainly, never was any Play fraught, like this of
Othello, with improbabilities.
(Rymer, 134)

For Rymer it is completely improbable to think that a

‘Negro’ could rise to the level of a general and marry a
woman of high birth and social standing. Rymer’s critique
is especially fascinating when he reveals that ‘a Moor’
might marry with a white woman from the working classes,
like a ‘drab’ (i.e., prostitute) or a ‘coal wench’. The problem
in Othello, according to Rymer, is the combination of
mixing races and classes.
Furthermore, a firm belief in clear class hierarchies
permeates Rymer’s objections to Othello. He argues of
Othello’s verbal abuse of Desdemona in 4.1: ‘Some
Drayman or drunken Tinker might possibly treat his drab at
this sort of rate, and mean no harm by it: but for his
excellency, a My lord General, to Serenade a Senator’s
Daughter with such a volley of scroundrel filthy Language,
is sure the most absurd Maggot that ever bred from any
Poets addle Brain’ (Rymer, 158). The improbability of the
race and class of Othello, then, lead Rymer to speculate
that the play is more risible than tragic. In fact, he begins
by joking that there is nothing the audience can really take
away from the play except: ‘First, This may be a caution to
all Maidens of Quality how, without their Parents consent,
they run away with Blackamoors… . Secondly, This may be
a warning to all good Wives, that they look well to their
Linnen. Thirdly, This may be a lesson to Husbands, that
before their Jealousie be Tragical, the proofs may be
Mathematical’ (Rymer, 132).
Rymer ends his reflections on Othello by emphasizing
that the play does not impart a moral lesson and is
therefore closer to a comedy than a tragedy. ‘What can
remain with the Audience to carry home with them from
this sort of Poetry, for their use and edification? … There is
in this Play, some burlesk, some humour, and ramble of
Comical Wit, some shew, and some Mimickry to divert the
spectators: but the tragical part is, plainly none other, than
a Bloody Farce, without salt or savour’ (Rymer, 164). Rymer
even suggests that the improbability that the handkerchief
becomes the ‘ocular proof’ (3.3.363) Othello requires sets
the audience up for comedy: ‘So much ado, so much stress,
so much passion and repetition about an Handkerchief!
Why was not this call’d the Tragedy of the Handkerchief?
… Had it been Desdemona’s Garter, the Sagacious Moor
might have smelt a Rat: but the Handkerchief is so remote
a trifle, no Booby, on this side Mauritania, cou’d make any
consequence from it’ (Rymer, 160).
Interestingly, Charlotte Lennox, writing about 60 years
after Rymer, takes a stance against Rymer’s racism,
arguing that it is not unusual for black men to marry white
women. She writes, ‘such Affections are not common
indeed; but a very few Instances of them prove that they
are not impossible; and even in England we see some very
handsome Women married to Blacks, where their Colour is
less familiar than at Venice; besides the Italian Ladies are
remarkable for such Sallies of irregular Passions’ (Lennox,
vol 1, 131). As Ann Thompson notes, ‘Lennox does not find
a white-versus-black racist stereotyping in the play (she is
full of praise for “the amiable Othello” and his many
virtues), but she substitutes for it an equally stereotypical
English-versus-Italian racism’ (Thompson, An, 147). Lennox
even critiques Rymer’s account of the inconsistencies in the
play, noting ‘That of Emilia though more inconsistent than
any, he has taken no Notice of’ (Lennox, vol 1, 129).
Unfortunately, Lennox’s sanguine analysis of Othello and
critique of Rymer went largely neglected for various
complicated reasons that Ann Thompson explores in her
recent essay on her life and work (Thompson, An).
While Rymer’s argument about the improbabilities of
Othello has not had a large scholarly influence (after all,
there are lots of improbable situations in Shakespeare’s
plays, like people getting captured by pirates in Hamlet
and Pericles, a father not recognizing his own son in King
Lear and cross-dressed women who are never recognized
as women in several plays such as Twelfth Night and As
You Like It), his argument that Othello veers closer to
comedy than tragedy has been picked up by others
including Susan Snyder, Michael Bristol and Sheila Rose
Bland. Snyder and Bristol both note the comedic
underpinnings to the following plot structures: the
daughter who thwarts her father’s wishes; the January–May
marriage; the improvisational clown-trickster who serves as
the scourge of marriage (Synder; Bristol). Bland, however,
argues that Othello should be staged as a comedy with an
all-male white cast as it would have been staged in
Shakespeare’s time so that ‘When my blackfaced white
male Othello steals his last kiss from my white male
Desdemona and falls on the bed alongside my white male
Emilia …, the full impact of the homoeroticism will be felt
… There will be joy. There will be humor. There will be
titillation’ (Bland, 40).
Writing in the early nineteenth century, Samuel Taylor
Coleridge mounted a different kind of critique of Othello.
Unlike Rymer, Coleridge had nothing but praise for
Shakespeare as a writer, often extolling Shakespeare’s
talents in what would come to be termed a form of
‘Bardolatry’, that is, reverential worship of the
playwright.15 Coleridge writes of Shakespeare, ‘But
combine all, – wit, subtlety, and fancy, with profundity,
imagination, and moral and physical susceptibility of the
pleasurable, – and let the object of action be man universal;
and we have – O, rash prophecy! say, rather, we have – a
Shakespere!’ (Coleridge, 394). For Coleridge, then, the
fault is never in Shakespeare, the playwright; instead,
Coleridge critiques the tradition of staging Othello as a
‘blackamoor or negro’ (Coleridge, 385). Like Rymer,
Coleridge argues that there are improbabilities that mar
Othello: ‘Besides, if we could in good earnest believe
Shakespeare ignorant of the distinction [between a Moor
and a “negro”], still why should we adopt one disagreeable
possibility instead of a ten times greater and more pleasing
probability?’ (Coleridge, 385). Coleridge effectively starts
the line of argument that Othello could not be black; a line
of argument which changed performance practices for
roughly 100 years.
Coleridge’s other influential argument was that Iago had
‘the coolness of a preconceiving experimenter’, and that his
rhetorical skills allowed him to coin ‘Iagoism[s]’ (Coleridge,
384 and 388). The notion that Iago is somehow more
adaptive, socially spontaneous and improvisational has
gripped scholars and performers alike as a unique quality
that differentiates him not only from everyone else in the
play, but also from the standard early modern constructions
of identity. Stephen Greenblatt argued that Iago represents
the way concepts of identity modified from medieval
notions of fixed identities to early modern notions of fluid
ones (Greenblatt, 222–57). As already noted, however,
Coleridge’s argument was also tied to a belief that Iago did
not have a clear motive for his actions: ‘The remainder –
Iago’s soliloquy – the motive-hunting of a motiveless
malignity – how awful it is!’ (Coleridge, 388). As Antony
Sher writes about playing Iago in 2004, though, ‘I’m angry
with Samuel Coleridge. His analysis of Iago as a villain
possessed by “motiveless malignity” has somehow lodged
in the public consciousness, even though it’s complete
nonsense’ (Sher, 57). Coleridge’s criticism of Othello, then,
has cast a long shadow.
 In the twentieth century, Othello scholarship took a
different turn with critics debating the play’s place among
Shakespeare’s great tragedies. A.C. Bradley, for instance,
argued that Othello was one of Shakespeare’s greatest
tragedies, often assessing it more favourably than Hamlet,
Macbeth and King Lear. Bradley declared, ‘What is the
peculiarity of Othello? What is the distinctive impression it
leaves? Of all Shakespeare’s tragedies, I would answer, not
even excepting King Lear, Othello is the most painfully
exciting and the most terrible’ (Bradley, 168). Bradley
attributed the intensity of the drama to its structure (a play
without a subplot), the ‘sense of shame and humiliation’
(Bradley, 169) audience members feel about the topic of
sexual jealousy and the modern feeling the play evokes:
‘Othello is a drama of modern life; when it first appeared it
was a drama almost of contemporary life, for the date of
the Turkish attack on Cyprus is 1570. … Besides this, their
[the characters’] fortunes affect us as those of private
individuals more than is possible in any of the later
tragedies with the exception of Timon’ (Bradley, 171). For
Bradley, then, Othello rises above Hamlet and Macbeth
because it has the power to ‘affect’ audience members
more precisely because it is a play about private matters
instead of state ones (Bradley, 173).
Bradley challenged Coleridge’s reading of Othello on two
important fronts. First, he forcefully declared that
Shakespeare ‘imagined Othello as a black man, and not as
a light-brown one’, noting, ‘we must remember that the
brown or bronze to which we are now accustomed in the
Othellos of our theatres is a recent innovation. Down to
Edmund Kean’s time, so far as is known, Othello was
always quite black’ (Bradley, 187–8). But Bradley hedged
his argument in a lengthy footnote in which he essentially
took up Charles Lamb’s argument that certain
Shakespearean plays are better experienced as read pieces
than in performance. This may seem like a strange
argument for twenty-first century readers who are used to
experiencing Shakespeare as both texts studied in school
and performance pieces seen onstage (although there is a
strong pedagogical movement currently that Shakespeare
should be studied as a performance piece because
kinesthetic learning enables deeper and more sustained
understanding16), but that has not always been the case.
While in Shakespeare’s time his plays would have been
experienced primarily as performance pieces, by the early
nineteenth century Shakespeare was considered a great
author whose plays needed to be studied and experienced
through reading.
Bradley seems to straddle the fence between these
worlds, but he lands down firmly on the reading side when
it comes to Othello precisely because of his discomfort with
seeing Othello’s race. He writes:

I will not discuss the further question whether, granted that to Shakespeare
Othello was a black, he should be represented as a black in our theatres
now. I dare say not. We do not like the real Shakespeare. We like to have
his language pruned and his conceptions flattened into something that suits
our mouths and minds. And even if we were prepared to make an effort,
still, as Lamb observes, to imagine one thing and to see is another. Perhaps
if we saw Othello coal-black with the bodily eye, the aversion of our blood,
an aversion which comes as near to being merely physical as anything
human can, would overpower our imagination and sink us below not
Shakespeare only but the audiences of the seventeenth and eighteenth
centuries.
(Bradley, fn.1, 190–1)

Bradley’s argument is amazingly forthcoming about the

presumed differences between an early twentieth-century
audience and a Shakespearean one. He is the first critic to
implicitly acknowledge that the intervening years between
1604 (one of the earliest recorded stagings of Othello) and
1904 (when Bradley published his lectures) render the
signification of a black man’s body differently. While the
history of the transatlantic slave trade does not enter into
Bradley’s argument explicitly, it lurks in the shadows
haunting Bradley’s footnote.
Bradley also disagrees with Coleridge’s assessment that
Iago lacks a clear motive for his actions, and he mounts one
of the first sustained analyses of Iago as a metadramatic
figure: that is, as a character who operates as if he
understands the conventions of theatre. Bradley declares
that Iago finds satisfaction in the knowledge that ‘he is the
master of the General who has undervalued him and of the
rival who has been preferred to him; that these worthy
people, who are so successful and popular and stupid, are
mere puppets in his hands, but living puppets, who at the
motion of his finger must contort themselves in agony’
(Bradley, 213–14). Arguing that Iago’s motives are not only
intelligible but also essentially creative, Bradley aligns Iago
with Shakespeare: ‘But Iago, finally, is not simply a man of
action; he is an artist. His action is a plot, the intricate plot
of a drama, and in the conception and execution of it he
experiences the tension and the joy of artistic creation. …
Here at any rate Shakespeare put a good deal of himself
into Iago’ (Bradley, 215). While other scholars and artists
had linked Shakespeare with Hamlet and Prospero, Bradley
was the first to analyse Iago’s desire to ‘bring this
monstrous birth to the world’s light’ (1.3.403) as an artistic
impulse that would have been familiar to Shakespeare.
Bradley’s view of Othello, however, was challenged. T.S.
Eliot, whom G.K. Hunter claimed ‘virtually invented the
twentieth-century Shakespeare in a collection of asides’
(Hunter, 299), implicitly responded to Bradley’s claims that
the titular character was the first of a new type of hero for
Shakespeare. Bradley proclaimed, ‘There is in most of the
later heroes something colossal, something which reminds
us of Michael Angelo’s figures. They are not merely
exceptional men, they are huge men; as it were, survivors
of the heroic age living in a later and smaller world. …
Othello is the first of these men’ (Bradley, 168).
Disagreeing, Eliot responds that ‘there is, in some of the
great tragedies of Shakespeare, a new attitude. … [I]t is
modern, and it culminates, if there is ever any culmination,
in the attitude of Nietzsche’ (Eliot, 110). Eliot continued, ‘It
is the attitude of self-dramatization assumed by some of
Shakespeare’s heroes at the moments of tragic intensity’
(Eliot, 110). To prove this claim, Eliot focuses on Othello’s
death speech, arguing that it was not an expression of
heroic greatness but rather a speech in which Othello
seems to be ‘cheering himself up’ (Eliot, 111). Eliot
proclaims, ‘nothing dies harder than the desire to think
well of oneself’, which he labels as ‘bovarysme, the human
will to see things as they are not’ (Eliot, 111). As Jason
Harding has argued about Eliot’s reading of Othello, ‘what
is modern about Eliot’s Shakespeare is his capacity to see
self-dramatisation and self-deception as everyday, rather
than tragic, flaws’ (Harding, 166).
In many ways, Eliot’s argument that Othello suffers from
everyday flaws instead of grand tragic ones sets the terms
for critical debates in the mid- to late-twentieth century
criticism: debates about whether Othello is a noble hero
and whether the play should be considered one of
Shakespeare’s greatest tragedies. In a typical essay, F.R.
Leavis argued stringently against Bradley’s assessment of
the play by aligning himself with Eliot’s. Writing in stark
terms, Leavis claimed, ‘And yet it is of Othello that one can
say bluntly, as of no other of the great tragedies, that it
suffers in current appreciation an essential and denaturing
falsification’ (Leavis, 259). For Leavis only the ‘denaturing
falsification’ of a rose-tinted reading sees Othello as a
‘noble hero’ (Leavis, 283) because he argues that Othello is
‘egotistic’, one who is prone to ‘self-dramatization’ (Leavis,
265). Interestingly, Leavis’s view of Othello shows a high
level of similarity with Iago’s. While Leavis’s line of
argumentation was not often followed, a strange obsession
around Othello’s place in the Shakespearean canon has
persevered.
This critical trend came to an end, however, around the
turn of the twenty-first century when scholars and artists
began to ask different questions about race, gender and
representation. Although it is difficult to pinpoint the exact
start of this new scholarly trend, one could make the case
that a collection of essays published in 1996 by ‘black
writers’ responding to Othello helped initiate new
approaches to the play. Edited by Mythili Kaul and
published by a historically black university in Washington
DC, Howard University Press, Othello: New Essays by
Black Writers made it clear that black readers, audience
members, scholars and artists may be experiencing a
different play from white ones. Debates about whether the
play was among Shakespeare’s greatest were immediately
made irrelevant as these scholars and artists grappled with
the ways the play not only illuminated the racial thinking of
Shakespeare’s time, but also affected contemporary
constructions of race. As Kaul wrote in the preface, ‘The
one thing that all the contributors do share in common,
however, is the recognition that the issues raised by the
play are, indeed, of utmost relevance today in terms of
politics, colonial exploitation, cultural relativism, and,
above all, race. From the other side, the essays collectively
also make clear the extent to which an engagement with
Othello can enable black writers to discuss these pressing
contemporary issues in ways that are both pointed and
complex’ (Kaul, xii). Suddenly, then, Othello became a text
through which our contemporary world could and should
be explored.
This was clearly the case when Ben Okri, the Nigerian
poet and novelist, included an essay on Othello in his 1997
collection, A Way of Being Free. In five short ‘meditations’
on Othello, Okri traces the way the play symbolizes how
blacks and whites share a long and contentious history.
Okri argues that Othello must be viewed as ‘the white
man’s myth of the black man’ because ‘It is possible that
Othello actually is a blackened white man’ (Okri, 76 and
78). Othello, then, should not be viewed as a fully formed
character with a clear psychology because he really
represents a white myth or a stereotype about black
masculinity. Even with this knowledge, though, Okri writes,
‘The black person’s response to Othello is more secret, and
much more anguished, than can be imagined. It makes you
unbearably lonely to know that you can empathise with
them [white people], but they will rarely empathise with
you. It hurts to watch Othello’ (Okri, 80). And Okri ends his
meditations by suggesting that productions of Othello may
add to racial tensions instead of relieving them: ‘What
matters is that because of Shakespeare’s genius Othello
haunts the English stage. He won’t go away. He is always
there on the stage, a reminder of his unexplained presence
in the white consciousness, and a symbol of the fact that
black people and white are bound on the terrible bed of
history. Doomed to his relentless cycle, he will not vanish
from our dreams. And yet I dream of ways of liberating him
from that bondage’ (Okri, 86). Like the writers included in
Othello: New Essays by Black Writers, Okri reads Othello
not only as representing the cultural historical moment in
which it was created, but also as a text and performance
piece that continues to inform and even potentially create
modern cultural historical moments – for both good and ill.
Although writing from a scholarly perspective, Dympna
Callaghan, in her essay ‘“Othello was a white man”:
Properties of race on Shakespeare’s stage’, argues along
similar lines that the Othello experienced on the
contemporary stage is strained precisely because of the
performance modes established in the early modern period.
Through a historicist lens, Callaghan examines records
from the early modern period that document the use of
Africans in court entertainments and the impersonation of
blackness on the stage by white actors. She argues that
there were ‘two distinct, though connected, systems of
representation crucially at work in the culture’s
preoccupation with racial others and singularly constitutive
of its articulation of racial difference: the display of black
people themselves (exhibition) and the simulation of
negritude (mimesis)’ (Callaghan, Shakespeare, 77).
Traditionally, she argues, in exhibition modes the audience
is given all the power because the bodies displayed are
represented as passive objects. And in mimetic modes
actors are given the lion’s share of power because of their
control over the ‘embodied performance’ (Callaghan,
Shakespeare, 77). And then Callaghan goes on to note that
for African American and female actors ‘mimesis and
exhibition tend to overlap because the actor is always
already construed as an exhibition in a representational
context that severely curtails the actor’s creative control’
(Callaghan, Shakespeare, 78). This framework not only
helps to position early modern performances of Othello, but
also to situate the difficulties performances of Othello can
pose in later historical moments.
While I elaborate on the history of the changes in
performance practices for Othello in the next section, many
theatre critics and scholars point to Paul Robeson’s
performances as Othello in the 1930s, 1940s and 1950s as
watershed moments in the history of Othello. Many
proclaimed that seeing an actual black man play the role of
the Othello made it feel as if they were ‘seeing the tragedy
for the first time … because the fact that he was a true
Negro seemed to floodlight the whole drama’ (Wilson
Othello, x). Writing the introduction to the Cambridge
edition of Othello in 1957, John Dover Wilson revealed,
‘Everything was slightly different from what I had
previously imagined; new points, fresh nuances, were
constantly emerging; and all had, I felt, been clearly
intended by the author. The performance convinced me in
short that a Negro Othello is essential to the full
understanding of the play’ (Wilson Othello, x).
By the 1980s, Othello had become a role that only black
male actors performed: no more white actors in makeup.
Writing against this tradition, however, the black British
actor Hugh Quarshie wondered if Othello is actually a role
to which black actors should aspire. Addressing the
University of Alabama Hudson Strode Theatre in 1998,
Quarshie pointedly asked:

if a black actor plays Othello does he not risk making racial stereotypes seem
legitimate and even true? When a black actor plays a role written for a
white actor in black make-up and for a predominantly white audience, does
he not encourage the white way, or rather the wrong way, of looking at
black men, namely that black men, or ‘Moors’, are over-emotional,
excitable and unstable. … Of all parts in the canon, perhaps Othello is the
one which should most definitely not be played by a black actor.
(Quarshie, 5)

Implicitly supporting Callaghan’s claims that when black

actors play parts written for white actors in blackface it
‘curtails the actor’s creative control’, Quarshie attempts to
imagine a production of Othello that would enable more
creative, cultural and political control for the black actor.
Yet in the end, he admits, ‘But, you may say, that’s another
Othello, not Shakespeare’s. That’s rather the point, isn’t
it?’ (Quarshie, 23).
Quarshie’s frank comments about his reluctance to play
Othello helped to open the door for more critical
assessments of casting in general, and this area of
scholarship brings us up to the most current trends in
Othello criticism. Celia Daileader’s essay ‘Casting Black
Actors: Beyond Othellophilia’ (published in 2000) was one
of the first to think through the way Othello actually casts a
long shadow on the way black actors are cast in other
classical roles. Analysing the way ‘Othello’s racialist
rhetoric hinges upon the pairing of a black man and a white
woman in such a way as to render the former a vehicle for
misogynist figurations of a woman’s sexual besmirching or
“blackening”, with all the voyeuristic (and potentially
racist) titillation such a spectacle provides’ (Daileader,
178), Daileader traces the way black actors in the 1980s
and 1990s were cast in supposedly non-traditional or
colour-blind productions but which replicated the racialist
rhetoric of Othello nonetheless. Daileader dubs this
phenomenon ‘Othellophilia’ and argues that the ‘modern
Anglo-American myth of the sexually potent black male and
his morally dubious white female target can be traced to …
Othello’ (Daileader, 178). My own scholarship has likewise
tracked the way casting practices are particularly fraught
for modern productions of Othello, arguing that the
continued cultural force of Bardolatry renders it difficult to
create appropriative productions that enable an
oppositional gaze for race in performance (Thompson, Ay,
Passing, 96–117). In order to understand this line of
argument, though, one first needs to know the fascinating
performance history of Shakespeare’s Othello.

Othello Onstage, Part 1: Stage Histories

From the title page of the first quarto published in 1622,
we know that Othello was ‘diuerse times acted at the
Globe, and at the Black-Friers, by his Maiesties seruants’.
We also know that Othello was played at Court by the
King’s Men on 1 November 1604, in Oxford in 1610 and
again at Court in 1612–13 during the courtly celebrations
for Princess Elizabeth’s marriage to Prince Frederick of
Heidelberg. These multiple performances in different
locations and venues not only speak to the play’s
popularity, but also to its versatility. Performances at The
Globe, for instance, could accommodate up to 3,000
audience members, and therefore the performances had to
be larger in their performance modes (volume, gesture,
scale, etc.). Blackfriars, the private indoor theatre that the
King’s Men began to lease in 1608, only seated up to 700
people with admission prices sufficiently higher to attract a
wealthier audience base. Plays as performed in this indoor
theatre, then, were more intimate in their size, scale and
content. And while any play could be called upon to be
reprised at court, the nature of the performance had to
change to suit the new environment in a smaller space with
a much smaller audience. Like several other Jacobean plays
of the King’s Men, Othello was performed in these diverse
environments, which reveals the play’s chameleon-like
nature: it can be staged as a large military tragedy or as a
small domestic one.
As already noted, Richard Burbage (1567–1619) is
thought to have originated the role of Othello. The prime
tragedian in the Lord Chamberlain’s Men and then the
King’s Men, Burbage played the leading roles in Richard
III, Hamlet, Othello and King Lear. We know next to
nothing about his performances as Othello except that in
his eulogy he is praised for playing the ‘grievèd Moor’ as
his ‘chiefest part’ (Var, 396).
The performance history of Othello is slightly more
detailed during the Restoration when the newly re-opened
theatres allowed women onstage for the first time in
English history. In fact, Othello is thought to be the first of
Shakespeare’s tragedies staged during the Restoration, but
performance historians are not sure which actress played
Desdemona first. Writing in 1800 about 1660, Edmund
Malone noted, ‘The first woman that appeared in any
regular drama on a publick stage, performed the part of
Desdemona; but who that lady was, I am unable to
ascertain. … Mrs. [Margaret] Hugh[e]s performed the part
of Desdemona when the company removed to Drury-Lane,
and obtained the title of the Kings Servants’ (Malone, 138).
Malone continues by providing an epilogue which he claims
was recited at the conclusion of the play in the Restoration:

And how do you like her? Come, what is’t ye drive at?
She’s the same thing in publick as in private;
As far from being what you call a whore;
As Desdemona, injur’d by the Moor:
Then he that censures her is such a case,
Hath a soul blacker than Othello’s face.
(qtd Malone, 140)

The epilogue’s attention to the differences between honest

women and whores employs themes from Othello to
emphasize that women should be allowed public lives. It is
interesting to think that a play about taboo relationships
was revived precisely so that it could usher in a new era in
performance modes.
The change in acting customs to allow women onstage
did not obscure the praise for the great actors who played
Othello. While it seems as though Nicholas Burt was the
first Othello on the Restoration stage, when the King’s
Company merged with the Duke’s Company in 1682 the
famous Restoration actor Thomas Betterton (1635–1710)
made Othello his own. Betterton’s heroic acting style was
reflected in the fact that ‘his aspect was serious, venerable,
and majestic … His Voice was low and grumbling, though
he could time it by an artful Climax, which enforc’d
universal attention, even from the Fops and Orange-girls’
(qtd Rosenberg, 20). Likewise, Sir John Perceval, writing a
humorous and hyperbolic letter to his cousin Elizabeth
Southwell on 20 September 1709, comments: ‘I declare
that they [the audience members] who cannot be moved at
Othello’s story so artfully worked up by Shakespeare, and
justly played by Betterton, are capable of marrying again
before their husbands are cold, of trampling on a lover
when dying at their feet, and are fit to converse with tigers
only’ (qtd Spencer, 26).
Nevertheless, as the Restoration moved into the
eighteenth century a ‘clamor in criticism for Decorum’
(Rosenberg, 20) began to alter the Othello audience
members experienced. While many acting scripts were
edited to cleanse Othello of indecorous language, ‘the
deepest and cruelest cuts were made to reduce the
atmosphere of sexuality into which Othello was betrayed’
(Rosenberg, 35). Thus, many lines and scenes were edited
or cut altogether (most famously 4.1 in which Bianca
confronts Cassio, and Othello and Iago debate what exactly
is signified by sexual language: ‘Lie with her? lie on her?’
4.1.35). With these excisions, it is believed the eighteenth-
century actors who played Othello emphasized the
character’s noble and heroic qualities. Marvin Rosenberg
argues, ‘the actor was supposed to bear the air of
Decorum’s hero’ (Rosenberg, 36). Furthermore, Lois Potter
notes that the eighteenth-century actors who played
Othello also played two other ‘famous black roles: … the
title character in Thomas Southerne’s Oroonoko (1695),
based on a novella of 1688 by Aphra Behn, and Zanga, the
villain of Edward Young’s The Revenge (1721)’ (Potter, 13).
Because both of these plays explicitly addressed the
enslavement of Africans (and Oroonoko was perceived to be
and employed as an anti-slavery play), and because the
movement of actors between the three plays made
connections between them resonate, Othello’s reluctance
to speak at length about his being ‘sold to slavery’ (1.3.139)
‘came to signify [the] depths of [his] stoic endurance’
(Potter, 14).
 The nineteenth century, however, saw another large set
of changes to performances of Othello. First, the acting text
for Othello was actually ‘fixed’ during this period. As
Charles Shattuck notes:

a production of Othello in those days might have been handsome or might

have been shabby, but in the essentials of ‘the book’ – the text and basic
stage business – it would not stray far from the forms established by the
histrionic tradition and community. The book of Othello was quite rigidly
fixed, precisely because it was played so often and because every aspiring
tragedian had to be ready on call to perform either of its leading roles.
(Shattuck, 3)

Virginia Vaughan has compared the surviving promptbooks

from the time (including ones from provincial theatres in
the UK and the US) and argues that the ‘blockings and
stagings were similar in most performances’ (Vaughan,
Othello, 148). She continues, ‘One promptbook (Folger
promptbook 26 …) was the property of the Edinburgh
theatre and includes blocking for all the eminent Othellos
who played there – Edmund Kean, Edwin Forrest, [Charles]
Macready, J.W. Wallack, and Edwin Booth’ (Vaughan,
Othello, 148). In other words, the Othello that audience
members saw onstage during the nineteenth century was a
stable textual and visual entity on both sides of the Atlantic,
permitting easy transfer of the actors who played both
Othello and Iago to move between the various venues that
sprang up in the heyday of popular theatre.
As already noted, Edmund Kean (1789–1833), one of the
great actors of the nineteenth century, helped to usher in
the great ‘Bronze Age of Othello’ in which white actors
performed in light, bronze or tawny makeup as opposed to
in dark or blackfaced makeup. While Kean’s colour
alteration impacted performances for the rest of the
nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, his interpretation
of Othello as an intensely emotional character also cast a
long shadow on future performances. Small in stature,
Kean decided that his Othello had to be explosive in his
passions: a character who controlled the attention of
senators with his calm demeanour but who also could
ignite into fury easily. Writing in the London Magazine in
1820, William Hazlitt was overwhelmed by ‘the fitful fever
in the blood, the jealous madness of the brain: his heart
seemed to bleed with anguish, while his tongue dropped
broken, imperfect accents of woe’ (Hazlitt, 444). There are
many accounts of audience members being swept away by
the emotion of Kean’s performance: ‘his imitation of the
hysterical sob under powerful agitation caused fine ladies
to faint, and [Lord] Byron to weep, from nervous sympathy’
(Young, 57). The politician Lord Granville Leveson Gower
wrote of Kean’s Othello, ‘Should tragedy be quite so
natural? … I was frightened, alarmed; I cannot account for
what I felt. I wished to be away, and saw those eyes all
night, and hear “D – n her! D – n her!” still – it was too
horrible’ (Granville, 457).
When Kean was tried for adultery in 1825, his acting
career was almost over: audience members frequently
booed him and pelted him with rotten vegetables. Yet when
he returned as Othello opposite Charles Macready as Iago,
audience members were surprised by the power of his
performance despite his ‘drunken hoarseness’ (Lewes, 5).
George Lewes wrote, ‘I remember the last time I saw him
play Othello, how puny he appeared beside Macready, until
the third act, when roused by Iago’s taunts and
insinuations, he moved towards him with a gouty hobble,
seized him by the throat, and, in a well-known explosion,
“Villain! be sure you prove”, &c., seemed to swell into a
stature that made Macready appear small…. old men
leaned their heads upon their arms and fairly sobbed’
(Lewes, 4–5). Kean cemented his reputation as giving it all
onstage when he collapsed playing Othello opposite his son
Charles Kean as Iago in 1833. His biographer writes, ‘He
was able to groan out a few words, in Charles’ ear – “I’m
dying – speak to them for me”; after which … he was borne
from the stage’ (Cornwall, 241). Kean died a few days later.
Despite the fact that the nineteenth century was the era
of the superstar theatre actor and there are many well-
noted Othellos from the period, Othello acting modes fell
into two distinct camps over which actors, critics and
audience members fought. There was an acting style that
emphasized the ‘thunder and lightning of sorely grieved
Moors’ as represented by the Italian actor Tommaso
Salvini, and the acting style that emphasized the ‘cooler
troubled’ Moor in a ‘refined guise’ as represented by Edwin
Booth (Rosenberg, 80). Salvini (1829–1915) was born in
Milan to acting parents. While Salvini played in many non-
Shakespearean plays, he became famous for his
presentation of Othello, which he performed for the first
time in 1856 in Venice. Shortly thereafter, he began making
frequent trips to the UK and the US to perform in Othello.
Despite the fact that he only ever performed in Italian (the
rest of the cast would speak in English in the UK and the
US), audience members and critics frequently debated the
‘southern voluptuousness’ of his performance (Ath, 498). In
fact, a review in April 1875 in the Athenaeum Magazine
notes, ‘Othello has not been a favourite character with
English exponents, happier always in presenting the
sombre rage of Northern blood than the fierce and burning
passion of the South’ (Ath, 498). Salvini’s performance was
interpreted as being ‘terribly natural’ in that his Moor has
only a ‘veneer of civilization’ which Iago effectively peels
off thereby exposing the ‘barbarian’ within (Ath, 498).
Part of this interpretation stemmed from the fact that
Salvini’s performance was remarkably physical. Fanny
Kemble noted that English actresses would not willingly
participate in ‘the full fury of his assault’ on Desdemona
(Kemble, ‘Salvini’, 376). The physicality apparently started
in the temptation scene when Salvini rushed upon his Iago:

Seizing fiercely Iago by the throat, he crushes the cowering miscreant to the
ground, and in the whirlwind of his passion lifts his foot to stamp the heel
upon his head, it might even be to kick out his brains. Recalled however to
reason, he turns away, and with averted head he stretches out his hand,
and penitently, yet with a species of loathing, raises the prostrate wretch
from the ground. In this scene, the one profoundly electrical effect of the
interpretation is reached.
(Ath, 498)

But Salvini’s Othello was primarily remembered for the

way he stalked and then thrashed Desdemona to death in
the final scene of the play. Reminiscing about seeing
Salvini, John Ranken Towes, the long-time theatre critic for
the New York Evening Post, wrote in 1910:

Salvini, convulsed, with fixed and flaming eyes, half-crouched, slowly circled
the stage toward her, muttering savagely and inarticulately as she cowered
before him. Rising at last to his full height with extended arms, he pounced
upon her, lifted her into the air, dashed with her across the stage and
through the curtains [of her bed, which was upstage], which fell behind
him. You heard a crash as he flung her on the bed, and growls as of a wild
beast over his prey. It was awful … such a picture of a man, bereft by
maniacal jealousy of mercy and reason, reduced to primeval savagery.
(Towes, 163)

Salvini’s decision to portray Othello as reverting to a

‘primeval savagery’ was, of course, precisely what made his
performances so controversial.
 Yet the actors, audience members and critics who praised
Salvini’s style did so on the grounds that it was a
presentation of the natural African. The novelist Henry
James wrote about Salvini’s Othello, ‘It is the rage of an
African, but of a nature that remains generous to the end;
and in spite of the tiger-paces and tiger-springs, there is
through it all, to my sense at least, the tremor of a moral
element’ (James, 175). Salvini fed into the racist views that
his violent performance was a reflection of natural African
character traits by claiming that he studied the
mannerisms and emotive expressions of Moors when he
travelled to Gibraltar. Interestingly, the Russian actor and
director Konstantin Stanislavsky, the founder of the
Stanislavsky System of acting which stressed realism, was
influenced by seeing an early performance of Othello by
Salvini.
Edwin Booth (1833–1893), whose acting style represents
the opposite side of the interpretive debates in the
nineteenth century, actually played Iago to Salvini’s Othello
in a few productions. Like Salvini, Booth was born into a
theatrical family. The English actor Junius Brutus Booth
had three illegitimate sons in the United States who would
go on to have acting careers: Junius Brutus Booth, Jr. (who
never achieved great success as an actor), Edwin Booth
(who became a celebrated Shakespearean actor) and John
Wilkes Booth (whose acting successes were eventually
overshadowed by his assassination of President Abraham
Lincoln in 1865). Slight of figure, Edwin Booth was best-
known for his portrayal of Hamlet, but his Othello became
famous for the way it represented Victorian restraint. An
1881 appraisal in the Saturday Review of Politics noted
that Booth ‘takes a poetical view of Othello, the view which
has always seemed to us the true one. Unless the romantic
nobleness of the character is insisted upon, it surely
becomes difficult to find any acceptable explanation either
of Desdemona’s love for the Moor or the complete
confidence placed in him by the Seigneury’ (SRP, 177).
Reflecting back, Booth recounted his performance
choices to the late nineteenth-century literary scholar
Horace Howard Furness, emphasizing what Marvin
Rosenberg named ‘a Byronic Moor, quick to sadness,
melancholy, [and] foreboding’ (Rosenberg, 82). For
instance, Booth is quoted as saying, ‘The keynote of
[Othello’s] nature, a modest, simple-hearted gentleman, not
a braggart as Iago would make him out’ (Var, 32). And even
at the height of the temptation scene, Booth attempted to
emphasize Othello’s humanity: ‘Although the savage blood
is up, let a wave of humanity sweep over his heart at these
words. Breathe out “’Tis gone” with a sigh of agony which
seems to exhale love to heaven’ (Var, 209). The restraint
that Booth demonstrated as his Othello apparently helped
his most famous Desdemona, Ellen Terry (1847–1928). In
her autobiography she writes, ‘Booth’s Othello was very
helpful to my Desdemona. It is difficult to preserve the
simple, heroic blindness of Desdemona to the fact that her
lord mistrusts her, if her lord is raving and stamping under
her nose. Booth was gentle with Desdemona’ (Terry, Story,
223). Booth’s emphasis on Othello’s gentleness and
humanity, though, necessitated significant cuts to the text,
including all references to ‘sheets’, ‘bed’ and ‘body’;
substituting words for ‘whore’, ‘bawdy’ and ‘strumpet’; and
‘obscuring the details of sexual relationships’ (Rosenberg,
87).
Another Othello innovation came when Booth was in a
six-week run at the Lyceum Theatre in London in which he
and the British actor Henry Irving (1838–1905) exchanged
the roles Othello and Iago weekly. Ellen Terry praised
Booth’s restraint as Othello but criticized his ‘deadly
commonplace’ Iago; and praised Irving’s Iago (‘Could one
ever forget those grapes which he plucked in the first act,
and slowly ate, spitting out the seeds, as if each one
represented a worthy virtue to be put out of his mouth
…?’), but criticized his Othello because he ‘screamed and
ranted and raved … [and] lost his voice’ (Terry, Story, 224,
224, 225). While the critics tended to agree with Terry’s
assessment of her leading men, the experiment proved a
fruitful one in terms of thinking through which character
should dominate the action. Iago has more lines than
Othello, but the play remains in the end Othello’s. By
alternating the roles, these actors were able to show the
versatility required to master both parts. While this was
possible when both actors were white, the opportunity to
perform this type of theatrical experiment has been
inadvertently thwarted by the contemporary practice of
casting actors of colour almost exclusively as Othello. And
yet there is the opportunity to appropriate and revise this
experiment if Iago and Othello are both performed by
actors of colour. While the swapping of roles by actors of
colour has not been done on any professional stage yet, I
am hopeful it will occur soon. Such an experiment could
help spur new conversations about Othello as a text,
performance piece, cultural artefact and cultural producer
of constructions of race.
Another seismic innovation for Othello performances
occurred in the nineteenth century, but was not recognized
as such until the late twentieth century: the first actors of
colour began to play Othello. James Hewlett was probably
the first black actor to play Othello, and the first
productions were held in New York City at the African
Grove Theatre in 1822 (n.b.: this was five years before the
complete abolition of slavery in New York State) (White,
113–14). Furthermore, the African Company actually
toured the eastern seaboard starting in 1823, with write-
ups in several regional papers including one in the
Providence Gazette noting that the company was refused a
licence despite the fact that Hewlett ‘was a very good
Othello without paint’ (PG, 3).
 While we do not know that much about Hewlett’s life
except for the fact that he was a ship’s steward, a
profession that afforded him the opportunity to travel to
several foreign countries, we know a lot about his protégé
Ira Aldridge (1807–1867). Aldridge attended the African
Free School where he received a classical education, and
as a young teen, he worked in African Grove Theatre. By
1824 (at the age of seventeen) Aldridge travelled to
England in the hopes of performing Shakespeare in non-
segregated theatres. By May 1825, he performed Othello at
the Royalty Theatre in London’s East End. Travelling
throughout England, Scotland, Ireland and much of Eastern
Europe for forty years, Aldridge hoped to return to the
United States after the emancipation of slaves and the
conclusion of the Civil War but he died while on tour in
Lodz, Poland in 1867 at the age of sixty. Aldridge reached a
level of fame and financial security that was virtually
unknown to free blacks at the time, but he could not
achieve this fame in New York or London; instead, he was a
star in Warsaw, Kiev and Moscow. While he was celebrated
by European artists like Richard Wagner, Théophile Gautier
and Taras Shevchenko, he was also reviled and mocked by
theatre critics in New York and London.17
Aldridge’s performances of Othello implicitly challenged
Edmund Kean’s establishment of Othello as a tawny Moor.
Aldridge was not a light-skinned black man, and he could
not perform Othello as a tawny Moor. In fact, he frequently
fabricated an African heritage and adopted the monikers
the ‘African Tragedian’, ‘African Prince’ and ‘African
Roscius’ to explain his blackness and sell his performances
(Courtney, 106–7). Despite the fact that Aldridge’s style
went against the grain, many European critics marvelled
that he became a ‘true Othello’. As Krystyna Courtney
discovered in the archives in Eastern Europe, ‘An 1854
review in Czas [Kracow, Poland] (9 November 1854) stated
that “it is the first time we have seen a true Othello”, while
the reviewer in Pamietnik muzyczny i teatralny [Warsaw,
Poland] assured his readers that “Othello is a perfect fit for
Mr. Aldridge” because “he himself is a Negro”’ (Courtney,
112).
Yet this nineteenth-century history was largely forgotten
by the time that Paul Robeson (1898–1976) played Othello
in 1930 in London, 1943 in New York and 1959 in
Stratford-upon-Avon. In fact, Robeson was often heralded
as the first black Othello, and many reputable scholars
discuss the performance history of Othello as falling into
two time periods: pre- and post-Paul Robeson. While this
may be a slight overstatement, Robeson’s impact was huge,
especially in the US where the theatres were still
segregated in the 1940s. Robeson, who was extremely
large in stature (6′3″) and who had a famously rich, deep
voice, loomed large onstage opposite his Desdemonas who
were played by Peggy Ashcroft, Uta Hagen and Mary Ure
respectively. While it was assumed that English audience
members would object less than American ones to the sight
of a black male actor playing opposite a white female actor,
Robeson nonetheless was extremely nervous and reflected
later that, ‘For the first two weeks in every scene I played
with Desdemona that girl couldn’t get near to me, I was
backin’ away from her all the time. I was like a plantation
hand in the parlor, that clumsy. But the notices were good. I
got over it’ (qtd van Gelder).
Robeson’s unease was not simply an expression of the
humility topos or actorly nerves; rather, he was keenly
aware of the tightrope he had to walk as the first black
Othello in the twentieth century. He had to make his
Othello less threatening sexually and emphasize his naïveté
in matters of the heart. This was complicated by the fact
that Robeson actually had affairs with two of his
Desdemonas: Peggy Ashcroft and Uta Hagen. In many
ways, though, Othello helped awaken Robeson politically.
Although he was playing at the Savoy Theatre, he was not
allowed to stay in the adjoining Savoy Hotel because the
hotel would not permit black guests. Robeson became
much more involved in social and political movements,
famously becoming a member of the Communist Party. By
the time Robeson was headlining on Broadway in 1943, he
was much more confident in both his acting abilities and
his political views. He used the popularity of his run in
Othello on Broadway and then on tour to raise social and
political issues in the popular media, including promoting
the desegregation of major league baseball and opposing
the exploitation of Africa by colonial powers. The reviews
were glowing, and the critics wrote openly about the
change they were experiencing seeing a black man play
Othello. For instance, writing in Variety in 1943, Rudolph
Elie, Jr. enthused, ‘Robeson playing opposite a white girl’
was ‘electric’ and that ‘no white man should dare presume
to play [Othello] again’ (Elie).
Despite the sense that Robeson’s performances in Othello
were viewed as a sea change in acceptable performance
modes, white actors continued to dominate the role until
the 1980s. Most famously, Laurence Olivier (1907–1989)
played the role from 1964 to 1965 at the National Theatre
production directed by John Dexter. Olivier indicated that
he styled his performance on recent West Indian
immigrants to the UK so he made himself up in heavy black
makeup which covered his entire body, adopted a different
gait and even lowered the timbre of his voice significantly.
In his book On Acting, Olivier describes how he developed
the walk, voice and mannerisms first. But he ends by
describing the colour: ‘Black all over my body, Max Factor
2880, then a lighter brown, then Negro Number 2, a
stronger brown. Brown on black to give a rich mahogany.
Then the great trick: that glorious half yard of chiffon with
which I polished myself all over until I shone…. The lips
blueberry, the tight curled wig, the white of the eyes,
whiter than ever, and the black, black sheen that covered
my flesh and bones, glistening in the dressing-room lights’
(Olivier, 109). In other words, Olivier’s Othello was no
tawny Moor, and was, in fact, a full-on racial impersonation.
Occurring precisely at the birth of the Black Arts
Movement in the United States, the artistic incarnation of
the Civil Rights Movement and the Black Power Movement,
the National’s production looked immediately dated.
Despite the fact that the production was lucrative enough
to occasion a film version for which all the principals
received Academy Award nominations (directed by Stuart
Burge and released in 1965), the reviews of the production
were mixed precisely because of Olivier’s blackface
performance.
In the UK the reviews were primarily positive. For
instance, Philip Hope-Wallace writing in The Guardian
praised ‘the inventiveness of it above all, the sheer variety
and range of the actor’s art which made it an experience in
the theatre altogether unforgettable by anyone who saw it’
(qtd Tynan, 101). But in the US there was a sense that
Olivier’s performance mode crossed several uncomfortable
lines. Writing in the New York Times in February 1966,
Bosley Crowther was incredulous: ‘He plays Othello in
blackface! That’s right, blackface – not the dark-brown
stain that even the most daring white actors do not
nowadays wish to go beyond…. The consequence is that he
hits one – the sensitive American, anyhow – with the by-
now outrageous impression of a theatrical Negro
stereotype. He does not look like a Negro (if that’s what
he’s aiming to make the Moor) – not even a West Indian
chieftain, which some of the London critics likened him to.
He looks like a Rastus or an end man in an American
minstrel show. You almost wait for him to whip a banjo out
from his flowing, white garments or start banging a
tambourine’ (Crowther). Another American critic noted, ‘I
was certainly in tune with the gentleman sitting next to me
who kept asking, “When does he sing Mammy?”’ (qtd in
Higgins). For American critics, then, Olivier’s performance
mode was too close to the blackface minstrel show tradition
in which white actors impersonated black characters
through performance stereotypes.
Despite the critical outrage, white actors continued to
play Othello until about the 1980s. Soon, however, a
consensus formed that the part should be played by actors
of colour, and performance modes began to shift once
again. One major trend in the early twenty-first century is
the emphasis on the military themes in the play. Thus,
Nicholas Hytner’s 2013 production at the National Theatre
starring Adrian Lester employed the retired army veteran
Jonathan Shaw to advise the actors on military ranks,
comportment and off-duty behaviours, as well as the effects
of post-traumatic stress disorder on veterans. As Lester
communicated, these issues were much more in the
forefront of his character preparation than Othello’s race
(Lester). In many ways, at the dawn of the twenty-first
century the UK and the US are preoccupied with the effects
of war on our collective social consciousness and on our
personal psychology. After all, the seemingly never-ending
wars waged against Iraq and Afghanistan make the effects
of militarism on societies and individuals immediately
pressing topics. Yet it is interesting to note that at precisely
the historical moment when black actors dominate the role
of Othello many productions choose to de-emphasize
themes of racial difference in order to emphasize themes
involving the personal strains on all military personnel. In
fact, this is precisely the justification the Norwegian
director Stein Winge employed when he cast the white
American actor Bill Pullman (1953–) to star in Othello in
Norway in 2015. As Rob Weinert-Kendt notes, ‘Winge
wondered: What if Othello were the story of an American
Navy man adrift in Norway? And what if his confusion and
isolation grew not from racial alienation but from that
disconnect? At the very least, they agreed, the concept …
could give Pullman a chance to dig into a role few white,
English-speaking actors would even dare to approach’
(Weinert-Kendt). In the end, it might be that black actors’
desires to de-emphasize the significance of Othello’s race
may re-open the door for white actors to play the part –
with all the complications of that performance mode still
unresolved.

Othello Onstage, Part 2: Black Actors, White

Actresses
Of course, actors of all colours have had various reactions
to playing Othello. Even Laurence Olivier wrote, ‘I felt that
Othello was a loser from the word go’, because ‘It’s Iago’s
piece’ (Olivier, 101, 104). Olivier’s response is a fairly
representative one: actors are always attempting to figure
out how to manage the ‘many climaxes’ and to avoid the
temptation to ‘bellow away like a dying moose’ (Olivier,
104). These are some of the issues that all actors,
regardless of race, have to face when playing Othello. Yet it
must be acknowledged that black actors have other, more
complicated responses to the role and the play precisely
because their performance modes are not considered as
impersonations but rather as embodiments. Responses to
the role by black actors, then, tend to fall into three types:
(1) the role is viewed positively as a vehicle for racial uplift;
(2) the role is viewed negatively as a tool for racial
oppression; and (3) the role is viewed as a neutral one
because it is race neutral.
Although one can find examples of all three responses in
different time periods, for the most part they are split into
the pre-Civil Rights era, the post-Civil Rights era and the
millennial moment. For instance, James Hewlett, the first
black actor to play Othello professionally albeit without a
white Desdemona, employed quotes from Othello to combat
Charles Mathews’s lampooning of the actors in the African
Grove theatre:

Why these reflections on our color, my dear Matthews [sic], so unworthy your
genius and humanity, your justice and generosity? Our immortal bard says,
(and he is our bard as well as yours, for we are all descendants of the
Plantagenets, the white and red rose;) our bard Shakespeare makes sweet
Desdemona say,
‘I saw Othello’s visage in his mind’.
Now when you were ridiculing the ‘chief black tragedian’, and burlesquing
the ‘real negro melody’, was it my ‘mind’, or my ‘visage’, which should have
made an impression on you? Again, my dear Matthews [sic], our favorite
bard makes Othello, certainly an interesting character, speak thus:
‘Haply, for I am black’.
That is as much to say ’tis happy that I am black. Here then we see a General
proud of his complexion.
(Hewlett)

For Hewlett, lines from Othello are self-consciously

employed to bolster his arguments against racism. Despite
the fact that he mistakes the meaning of ‘haply’ [perhaps],
Hewlett attempts to demonstrate his mastery of Othello
and to make a claim for his own Shakespearean descent
(‘he is our bard’). Likewise, Othello’s character and words,
and Desdemona’s thoughts about him, are interpreted in
the most positive light: to be Othello is to be a powerful,
proud and strong black man.
This view was held by Ira Aldridge as well, who went a
step further than Hewlett by attempting to re-fashion his
identity to resemble more directly Othello’s. Despite the
fact that Aldridge was born in New York City, he frequently
claimed that ‘his forefathers were princes of the Fulah
tribe, whose dominions were Senegal, on the banks of the
river of that name, on the west coast of Africa’ (Memoir, 8).
A typical insert in a playbill, this one from the Surrey
Theatre in 1833, claimed:

Mr. Aldridge, a native of Senegal, and known by the appellation ‘The African
Roscius!’ is engaged at this theatre for two nights; and will have the honour
of making his first appearance on Monday next, April 22 in Shakespeare’s
play of ‘Othello’. N.B. – The circumstance of a man of colour performing
Othello, on the British Stage, is, indeed, an epoch in the history of
theatricals; and … is as highly creditable to the native talent of the sunny
climes of Africa, as to the universal liberality of a British Public.
(qtd Memoir, 18)

To put it plainly, Aldridge assumed that a fake African

heritage which clearly connected him personally to his
performance of Othello would be an effective marketing
strategy to sell seats in the theatre. It should not be
surprising, then, that many audience members and critics
reacted to the performance as natural: ‘From his first step
on the stage the African artist captivated the entire
audience by his harmonious and sonorous voice, by his
simple, natural, and dignified declamation’ (qtd Hill, 25).
By all accounts there was never any reluctance on
Aldridge’s part to play Othello; on the contrary, he appears
to have intentionally appropriated Othello. The custom was
for white actors to perform scenes featuring comedic and
stereotypical black characters alongside scenes from
Othello. Aldridge orchestrated performing the Othello
scenes first in the evening, thereby implicitly challenging
the more stereotypical portrayals of black characters in the
scenes that followed. Bernth Lindfors argues, ‘Only now,
having already witnessed his polished performance in a
serious role [Othello], they [the audience] knew that he was
playing the fool – in short, that he was acting a part, not
manifesting his own innate racial peculiarities’ (Lindfors,
7). Thus, for Aldridge Othello was always a heroic and
noble character.
While Paul Robeson never had to play scenes from
Othello alongside scenes from minstrel shows, he too
consistently interpreted the role and the play as symbols of
racial uplift. Robeson was anxious to prove he could
perform Shakespeare effectively, and he capitalized on the
success of his performances to help promote civil rights.
James Earl Jones (1943–), who played Othello seven times
professionally between 1956 and 1982, most notably in
Central Park in 1964 (the same year Olivier blacked up in
London), was the heir apparent to Robeson’s efforts. And
like Robeson, Jones viewed Othello as noble with ‘no sense
of inferiority’ (Jones and Niven, 165). In fact, Jones’s father
introduced him to Othello and told him, ‘you have to come
to him strong and clean’ and that Othello ‘has greater
dignity than any other of Shakespeare’s men’ (Jones and
Niven, 145). Despite the fact that the producer of the 1964
Central Park show, Joseph Papp, urged Jones to use his
performance to express ‘black rage’ because it was the
onset of the Civil Rights Movement in the United States,
Jones could not interpret the role in that vein (Jones and
Niven, 158). Papp’s urgings, however, signalled a change
that was coming to interpretations of Othello because even
the celebrated film star, Sidney Poitier, told Jones that he
refused to play the part: ‘I cannot go on stage and give
audiences a black man who is a dupe’ (qtd Jones and Niven,
298).
Sentiments like the one expressed by Poitier were
frequently expressed by black actors to each other quietly,
but it was not until the British actor Hugh Quarshie (1954–)
gave a talk at the University of Alabama in 1998 that a
black actor publicly articulated the sense that Othello was
a racist play. Quarshie summarized his argument thus:
My contention is, firstly, that, in adapting and elaborating Cinthio’s story
about a jealous, uxoricidal Moor, Shakespeare was endorsing a racist
convention; secondly, that performance conventions and conventional
interpretations have further reinforced racist views; and, thirdly, that, while
it may never be possible to avoid the conclusion that Othello behaves as he
does because he is black, a non-racist interpretation may nevertheless be
possible, but only with careful editing of text and a radical re-reading of
key passages.
(Quarshie, 3)

A celebrated classically trained actor, who was educated at

Christ Church, Oxford, and who was a member of the Royal
Shakespeare Company, Quarshie noted that he had ‘seen
more productions of this one play [Othello] than any other’
(Quarshie, 4). While this included many productions
featuring white actors as Othello, Quarshie’s ‘interest in
watching white men imitate black men waned’ and he
became more interested in seeing productions featuring
black actors in the title role. Nonetheless, Quarshie writes,
‘I am left with a nagging doubt: if a black actor plays
Othello does he not risk making racial stereotypes seem
legitimate and even true?’ (Quarshie, 5). Othello, then, is
no longer interpreted as a noble and heroic character and
is instead seen as a stereotypical one: one that was created
by a white author, to be played by a white actor in
blackface, for a white audience. This is a far cry from the
public views espoused by actors like Robeson and Jones,
and Quarshie’s challenge enabled other black actors to
open up about their refusals to play the part.
For instance, Harry J. Lennix (1964–), most well-known
for his portrayal of Aaron, the Moor in Julie Taymor’s 1999
film Titus, played Othello at the Cort Theatre in Chicago in
1992, a few years after he graduated from Northwestern.
While he received good reviews, and while he has gone on
to have an impressive Shakespearean résumé both on stage
and on film, he states flatly, ‘I guess many people continue
to do it [Othello]. I never want to do it again’ (Thompson,
Ay, ‘Two’, 51). In a published conversation with Laurence
Fishburne (1961–), who played Othello in Oliver Parker’s
1995 film, Lennix declares, ‘it’s impossible to play Othello
properly if you’re a black man…. If you’re a black man … If
you’re a man and have any pride. It’s an extraordinarily
problematical character to play’ (Thompson, Ay, ‘Two’, 46).
Again, this sentiment is the polar opposite of the view that
Othello is an uplifting character to perform; for Lennix and
Fishburne, the assumption is that Shakespeare was ‘racist’
because ‘the world was racist at that time’ (Thompson, Ay,
‘Two’, 49). While Fishburne states that he is more than
willing to play Othello again, he agrees that ‘it is extremely
challenging [to play Othello] and it’s challenging to that
aspect of having pride in one’s own race and one’s people.
Very, very difficult’ (Thompson, Ay, ‘Two’, 46).
More recently, black actors have expressed a belief that
Othello is not actually about race, thereby avoiding the
debates about whether the part is uplifting or oppressive.
As already noted, the 2013 production at the National
Theatre in London focused much more heavily on the
military aspects of Othello’s character. Adrian Lester
(1968–), who starred in that production, was very aware of
the debates and was dismayed ‘how often critics talk about
colour and then not character’ (Lester). So he ‘wanted to
strip that away’ so that the audience could see the
character before the colour (Lester). This was partially
achieved by having several other actors of colour in the
production so that Lester was not the only black actor on
the stage. This is a trend that has become very popular in
millennial productions of Othello with many actors of
colour filling in other roles, most notably Iago, Emilia and
Cassio.18
 It is not just actors of colour who have struggled with
Othello, though; many actresses have struggled with how
to play Desdemona. While scholarly debates about
Desdemona’s character have ranged from misogynistic to
recuperative and everything in between, the Desdemonas
that have graced the stage have fallen primarily into two
camps: performances that stress Desdemona’s passivity
and performances that stress her strength. Edward Pechter
argues that Desdemona provides a type of litmus test for
Othello: ‘Desdemona provides the major confirmation – or,
more precisely, disconfirmation of the beliefs originally
impressed on us by the play’ (Pechter, 42). Yet as Carol
Carlisle argues, ‘We must go all the way to the twentieth
century to reach the only actor-criticisms that present
Desdemona as a seriously flawed character’ (Carlisle, 242).
Like performance modes for Othello, the split in
Desdemona performance trends divides historically
between pre- and post-late nineteenth-century productions.
While we know that the first actors to play Desdemona
were boys in Shakespeare’s era, we do not know which
actor precisely. We also do not know who the first female
Desdemona was on the Restoration stage, although there
are conjectures. We only begin to have reliable historical
information about the women who played Desdemona and
the acting styles they employed beginning in the eighteenth
century, when the trend appears to have been to edit the
text radically so as to eliminate many of Desdemona’s
scenes, including most notably the Willow Scene (4.3). This
was the era in which the propriety of the play was
questioned, and Desdemona’s function in making the play
acceptable meant that performances could not contain any
scenes in which she discusses sexual desires (or bedsheets
for that matter!). Francis Gentleman, writing in his
Dramatic Censor, or Critical Companion in 1770,
summarizes the eighteenth-century view of the necessity of
editing that scene: ‘if Desdemona was to chaunt the
lamentable ditty, and speak all that Shakespeare has
allotted for her in this scene, an audience, as Foigard says,
would not know whether to laugh or cry, and Aemilia’s
quibbling dissertation on cuckold-making, is contemptible
to the last degree’ (Gentleman, 146). By the mid-nineteenth
century, then, it became typical to have actresses
emphasize Desdemona’s meekness. Charlotte Vandenhoff’s
(1790–1861) performances were praised thus: ‘It is an
unalloyed delight, mingled with sorrowful sympathy, when
the woman is forgotten in the actress, to follow her gentle
madness, as Ophelia …; or to see her sad, fearful, yet
gentle as a bruised dove, bend meekly to the implacable
jealousy of the swart Othello, and receive her death, while
kissing the hand which gives it’ (E.F.R., 168). For two
decades it appears as if actresses were made to play
Desdemona as not only meek, but also willing to die at her
husband’s hands.19
As Carol Carlisle argues, though, Desdemona’s supposed
meekness made the role less and less appealing by the late
nineteenth century when the actor ‘star system was in its
heyday’ (Carlisle, 245). Carlisle writes, ‘There were
numerous occasions when the Desdemona of the evening
was an actress who normally rose no higher in the
Shakespearean scale than Celia, Hero, Virgilia, or Lady
Macduff’ (Carlisle, 240). And she goes on to note, ‘No
ambitious actress would attempt to build her reputation on
the drooping, wavering creature the critics described –
especially when she is flanked in the same play by the
passionate Othello and the devilishly fascinating Iago’
(Carlisle, 245). Helen Faucit (1817–1898) and Fanny
Kemble (1809–1893) were two of the first stars to accept
the role and to begin to transform it. For example, Faucit
writes that she always loved Desdemona’s character and
was surprised to learn that ‘Desdemona is usually
considered a merely amiable, simple, yielding creature, and
that she is generally so represented on the stage’ (Faucit,
48). Faucit always felt that:

[Desdemona] was in all things worthy to be a hero’s bride, and deserving the
highest love, reverence, and gratitude from the noble Moor…. I cannot
think [Wordsworth] would have singled her out in his famous sonnet, had
he not thought her as brave as she was generous, as high of heart as she
was sweet of nature, or had he regarded her as a soft, insipid, plastic
creature, ready to do anyone’s bidding, and submit placidly to any ill-usage
from mere weakness and general characterless docility. Oh, no!
(Faucit, 48)

Remarkably, Faucit goes on to boast, ‘It was well for me

that I never saw Desdemona, or indeed any of
Shakespeare’s heroines, on the stage, before I had to
impersonate them myself. I was thus hampered by no
traditions’ (Faucit, 49).
Likewise, Fanny Kemble changed the performance
tradition by having her Desdemona fight during the murder
scene when she was playing opposite Charles Macready in
1848. Writing to a friend, Kemble mused:

I think I shall make a desperate fight for it, for I feel horribly at the idea of
being murdered in my bed. The Desdemonas that I have seen, on the
English stage, have always appeared to me to acquiesce with wonderful
equanimity in their assassination…. but I did think I should like not to be
murdered, and therefore, at the last, got on my knees on my bed, and threw
my arms tight round Othello’s neck (having previously warned Mr.
Macready, and begged his pardon for the liberty).
(Kemble, Records, 551)
While it appears that Kemble was not able to repeat her
‘desperate fight’ for Desdemona’s life, the moment
signalled a sea change for performances of Desdemona.
She no longer had to acquiesce to be performed and
interpreted as worthy, good and chaste. It should not be
surprising that Kemble initiated this sea change in
performance modes when one remembers that she was a
staunch abolitionist who often wrote about the horrors of
slavery from a feminist perspective. As Catherine Clinton
writes, ‘Kemble was not only a writer concerned with the
inhumanity of slaveowners toward slaves, but also a woman
struggling against the patriarchal prerogatives within her
society’ (Clinton, 74).
Ellen Terry also helped to change performances of
Desdemona by performing her as an unconventional
woman. Terry proclaimed that ‘Shakespeare has suffered
from so much misconception. The general idea seems to be
that Desdemona is a ninny, a pathetic figure chiefly because
she is half-baked’ (Terry, Four, 129). Yet Terry argued that
‘a great tragic actress with a strong personality and a
strong method, is far better suited to it, for Desdemona is
strong, not weak’ (Terry, Four, 129). Faucit, Kemble and
Terry, then, helped to make Desdemona a character that
stars wanted to play, and they also made her a character
who was presented as both good and strong, even
potentially fighting for her life at the end of the play. With
the restoration of the Willow Scene in twentieth-century
productions, actresses have been fighting to stem the 200-
year history of productions that were ‘consistently
replacing Desdemona’s voice with silence and transforming
her presence into absence’ (Pechter, 130).20
By the mid-twentieth century, many actresses were
following Terry’s lead, arguing that Desdemona is a strong
figure. Peggy Ashcroft (1907–1991), who played opposite
Robeson in the 1930 production, was adamant that
Desdemona is not only a strong character but also a proto-
feminist: ‘It seems to me amazing that women can think of
Shakespeare as anti-feminist. Take Desdemona: some
people see her as a sort of softy, a milk-and-watery
character. I think she has enormous strength – and the
courage of the step she took. She is of course the victim of
the play, and perhaps victims are written off when they are
not the main protagonist. But she is a wonderfully drawn
character’ (Ashcroft, 19). Yet the courage that Ashcroft had
in playing the role as a strong woman opposite Robeson
was not easily replicated. In her autobiography, Margaret
Webster notes how difficult it was to get a white actress to
play the role opposite Paul Robeson on Broadway in 1943:
‘It had been all right, they said, for Peggy Ashcroft to do it
in London, but she was English and that was London. In
America – a white girl play love scenes with a black man …
they were appalled’ (Webster, 107). Yet, Uta Hagen (1919–
2004), who was eventually cast for the role, made it clear
from the beginning of rehearsals that her Desdemona
would be strong. Webster continues, ‘She was
comparatively inexperienced, but she had the strength and
enough classical training to meet the demands of the part –
no dewy-eyed lamb-to-the-slaughter for Uta’ (Webster, 108).
By the time Maggie Smith (1934–) played opposite
Laurence Olivier in the 1964 production at the National
Theatre, the death of the ninny Desdemona had fully
occurred. Alan Seymour writes about Smith’s performance,
‘The milksop Desdemona has been banished from this stage
and a girl of real personality and substance comes into her
own. Fighting back, not soppily “hurt”, but damned angry,
she makes the conjugal battle less one-sided and so more
interesting and certainly more exciting’ (qtd Tynan, 16). Yet
even with Desdemona’s strength taken as a given,
millennial productions have reverted to presenting
Desdemona as extremely young, naïve and in love for the
first time. Thus, Olivia Vinall, who played opposite Adrian
Lester in the 2013 production at the National Theatre,
resolutely declares, ‘Desdemona is a young girl, who has at
the start of the play just fallen completely in love. She’s
married Othello, who is more than twice her age in our
production, and her father had no idea she was going to do
this’ (National Theatre). It is interesting to note that Vinall
no longer feels it necessary to promote Desdemona’s
strength; yet she does feel it necessary to explain the
importance of her youth and inexperience. While there
have always been young Desdemonas onstage, the shift
away from discussions of her strength to discussions of her
inexperience is remarkable. Similarly, the RSC’s 2015
production of Othello, directed by Iqbal Khan, featured
Hugh Quarshie as Othello (age 60) and Joanna Vanderham
as Desdemona (age 23). With close to a 40-year age
difference between them, Desdemona’s youth, inexperience
and naïveté were prominently featured. The primary
relationship in productions like the National’s and the
RSC’s, then, becomes the one between Othello and Iago
because there is such a disparity between Othello and
Desdemona. What would it mean if directors and actors
moved away from assumptions about Desdemona’s youth,
and presented the newlyweds as having a less visible age
gap? This might fruitfully challenge assumptions about the
cultural significance of Desdemona’s sexual knowledge and
could present a more feminist-leaning interpretation of the
play.

Othello Onstage, Part 3: Othello in the World

The performance histories that I have provided thus far
have skewed heavily towards UK and US productions,
falsely giving the impression that Othello lives only in
Western, English-speaking countries. This, of course, is far
from the truth, and Shakespeare’s presence globally cannot
be underestimated. While there is only space to discuss
three specific non-UK/US Othello productions, it is
important to realize that Shakespeare’s life as an early
modern writer who was interested in the globe and
Shakespeare’s afterlife as a dramatist whose works get
produced globally have become huge areas of scholarly
research.21 What is fascinating about productions of
Othello outside the UK and the US is the fact that the
cultural weight of the significance of Othello’s racial, ethnic
and religious differences translate in unique ways.
In 1987 the white South African actress Janet Suzman
(1939–) made her directorial debut staging Othello at the
Market Theatre in Johannesburg, South Africa. While
Othello had been performed before in South Africa, this
was the first production in which a black actor, John Kani
(1943–), would play Othello, and it was seven years before
the end of apartheid in South Africa. While the Market
Theatre had allowed desegregated audience members since
its opening in 1976, and while the Immorality Act which
barred sexual relations across racial and ethnic lines had
been repealed in 1985, the production was viewed as
inherently political. As Adele Seeff writes, ‘John Kani was
himself a living example of the consequences of the
Population Act. As a black South African, Kani’s place of
residence was prescribed (forcibly reassigned according to
apartheid’s terms) and he lived in Soweto, the largest
township in South Africa…. The first run-through of the
play, for example, was postponed because police cordoned
off Soweto in preparation for the funeral of a murdered
activist. Police roadblocks were a constant challenge for
Kani as he made his way from Soweto to the Market
Theatre in downtown Johannesburg’ (Seeff, 378–9). In
interviews Kani regularly voiced his view that ‘he regarded
his entire acting career as an extension of the black
struggle against apartheid in South Africa’ (Battersby). The
New York Times quotes Kani saying, ‘When I am offered
work, I am very selective … I want my work to contribute
toward creating a better society, toward bringing people
together. That is always the first consideration, not the
money’ (Battersby).
Nonetheless, the production provoked a lot of negative
responses with audience members walking out when
Othello and Desdemona, played by Joanna Weinberg,
touched for the first time onstage. ‘Ms. Suzman said that by
the time the production closed, “hate mail” from
theatregoers and some who had not seen the play had piled
up’ (Battersby). Kani felt the dialogues that the production
inspired and enabled were worth the trouble and he voiced
his appreciation that Shakespeare was conscripted into
their political activist theatre: ‘There goes the native
causing more trouble, and this time he has Shakespeare to
do it for him’ (Battersby). So while this global production of
Othello presented and worked through familiar Western
racialized discourses, the explicit politicization of both
Shakespeare and the production’s performance mode
render it noteworthy in the global context. The production
employed a fairly conservative mise en scène with vaguely
early modern costumes and sets, but the impact of the
production was anything but conservative: it was charged
with progressive politics.
Ong Keng Sen’s Desdemona (2000) demonstrates the
wide variety of global Shakespeares. In fact, it is probably
more effective to think about global productions in terms of
the specific cultural legacies they bring to Shakespeare;
instead of thinking about the ways Shakespeare ties them
together. Ong Keng Sen (1963–), a Singaporean director
who attended NYU on a Fulbright Fellowship, is interested
in creating intercultural theatre through rich juxtaposition.
Thus, his productions often feature several art and cultural
forms from different countries and regions in Asia which
remain independent of each other but which enable
dialogues about the politics of interculturalism.
Desdemona, which premiered at the Adelaide Festival in
Australia, was also staged in Munich, Hamburg and
Singapore. The production was a collaboration between
actors, musicians, designers and video installation artists
from India, Korea, Myanmar, Indonesia and Singapore, and
they all performed in traditional styles, some of which are
dying out. Helena Grehan explains, ‘For example, Madhu
Margi, who, along with another actor, performs Othello in
Desdemona, is only one of a small number of people who
still practices kudiyattum [the only surviving example of
ancient Sanskrit theatre] in Kerala, India. As a collaborator
in this project he uses his extensive skills in kudiyattum to
inform his portrayal of Othello…. Desdemona allows him to
experience other art forms and to collaborate with both
traditional and contemporary practitioners’ (Grehan, 115).
As his second Shakespearean production (he directed the
much-heralded Lear in 1997), Ong Keng Sen was interested
in the ways that Shakespeare’s Othello could serve as a
vehicle to explore ‘archetypal killing of an intercultural
couple. One kills the other and that was just our point from
which we projected out’ (qtd Grehan, 119). In the
programme notes, Ong Keng Sen also states that
Desdemona was ‘a journey through difference in Asia,
traditional performing arts, gender, ritual and
contemporary art; a process of reinvention’ (Sen,
‘Desdemona’, 5). As must be clear from these statements,
though, there is a vast difference between Ong Keng Sen’s
relationship with Shakespeare and John Kani’s or Janet
Suzman’s. Ong Keng Sen does not approach Shakespeare
as a political ally but instead as a vehicle for asking
questions about interculturalism. He writes, ‘For me,
interculturalism in performance is increasingly less about
finding a better way of telling a story and more about
asking, Why engage in interculturalism at all? Hence the
work naturally shifts from one character to actor and I
must say that these are issues that we cannot answer
directly at this point in time. Questions with no answers’
(Sen, ‘On’, 118). Shakespeare’s play, then, is not the final
product, and is instead ‘a seed, a provocation’ (Grehan,
117). In the end, Ong Keng Sen’s Desdemona was similar to
Suzman’s 1987 South African production in its desire to
politicize Shakespeare but radically different in its
instrumentalization of Othello.
One final example of a global production of Othello comes
from the 2009 Deutsches Theater Berlin German-language
production directed by Jette Steckel (1982–), starring
Susanne Wolff (1973–) as Othello. In a radically pared-down
script translated into German by Frank-Patrick Steckel (the
director’s father), the text was nonetheless remarkably
close to Shakespeare’s text with a near verbatim
translation. Therefore the few textual alterations were that
much more remarkable because of the closeness of the
textual translation. The largest textual change was the
excision of the term ‘Moor’ to describe Othello. While the
archaic German word ‘Mohr’ is the closest translation for
the English word ‘Moor’ (in fact, Steckel’s published
translation is called Die Tragödie von Othello, Dem Mohren
von Venedig), the text consistently uses variations of the
German word ‘Schwarze’, or ‘black man’ in lieu of ‘Moor’.
This textual alteration is further emphasized by the fact
that Othello is played by the white, German actress
Susanne Wolff who never appears physically disguised or
made up to look like a black man. Instead, she appears in
the first act in a white dress shirt and black slacks (as is
the entire cast) with her long straight hair down; in the
second and third acts she appears in a three-piece brown
suit with a short wig complete with side burns; towards the
end of the temptation scene (3.3) she applies and then
proceeds to wipe off white clown makeup, complete with a
Joker-like red smile; in act four she dons a realistic looking
gorilla costume, takes it off and then reappears in a
strapless red dress, blonde wig and black high heels; and in
the final act, she appears in the bedroom scene wearing
only an oversized Public Enemy t-shirt. Likewise, Othello
has slight black marks across his middle knuckles from the
second act until the end of the production. There is nothing
mimetic about this performance mode; everything is
conveyed through representational metaphors which
render Othello’s race less of a stable physical marker and
more of a fractured and performative one.
Steckel’s production rendered racialization as only ever
barely about the body itself and more about the ways we
code certain objects, the cultural narratives we construct
about those objects and the performance modes that are
enabled by those narratives as racialized. Thus, the gorilla
suit is not discussed in the production in any explicit way,
but it is allowed to drip silently with the various
uncomfortable racialized narratives that do not necessarily
stem from the early modern period. In a performance mode
that renders the distinction between mimesis and
exhibition completely indeterminate, the gorilla costume
renders racialized discourses, narratives and performance
modes as constructed entities that often have nothing
whatsoever to do with real bodies. In this production, race
has nothing to do with either exhibition or mimesis because
anybody can be rendered racialized in a social system that
is determined to racialize: race becomes, then, inescapable.
These three examples of global productions of Othello
differ widely in their approaches to Shakespeare, Othello
and the frames that are useful and necessary to make
compelling theatre. Again, it is important to realize that
global Othellos are only ever united in the fact that
Shakespeare’s text is their jumping off point. Why Othello
provides the jumping off point, what cultural work they
want Shakespeare’s reputation to play and what themes,
performance modes and dialogues they hope to inspire are
all unique to the cultural moment and place on the globe in
which the production occurs.
 Othello: Restaged / Rewritten
While it is fruitful to think about theatrical productions of
Othello as types of adaptations or afterlives for
Shakespeare’s text, there are also many examples of new
plays that seek to rewrite Othello. Although this may strike
twenty-first century readers as a very modern approach,
adaptations and appropriations of Othello date back to at
least the nineteenth century. Again, there is not enough
space in this introduction to provide a thorough overview of
these appropriations, so I will limit my remarks to a handful
of examples that fall into three categories: minstrel show
rewritings, appropriations by black playwrights and
feminist appropriations. I began the introduction discussing
the ways Othello is a play about storytellers, their tall-tales
and their effects on gullible listeners. As I argued,
storytelling matters in very explicit and tangible ways in
the play, and the playwrights who have appropriated
Othello seem to have been attracted to the power of
controlling the frame, the story, of Othello. So it is fitting
that I end this introduction with a section on the theatrical
afterlives of Othello.
Minstrel show versions of Othello were very popular in
the nineteenth century, and they were the most popular
blackface adaptations of Shakespeare. We have playtexts
for the following Othello burlesques: Maurice Dowling,
Othello Travestie: An Operatic Burletta (1834); T.D. Rice,
Otello: A Burlesque Opera (1853); Griffin and Christy’s
Minstrels, Othello: A Burlesque (1870); and Anonymous,
Desdemonum: An Ethiopian Burlesque, in Three Scenes
(1874). I begin with them as the first set of theatrical
appropriations because it is clear now that these
burlesques were an attempt to employ Othello to frame
narratives about black masculinity as monstrous, laughable
and yet potentially threatening if not properly controlled.
While the history of blackface minstrelsy is complicated, we
know that it began around 1830 when Thomas Dartmouth
‘T.D.’ Rice ‘jumped Jim Crow’ after a New York
performance of Othello. The practice was for white actors
to apply burnt cork to their skin to appear as poor,
Southern, buffoon-like black slaves, who would dance, sing
and talk in an exaggerated black dialect. Minstrelsy began
as a humorous interlude between scripted performances
(an entr’acte), but Rice formalized the tradition and even
published lyrics for his specific ‘Jim Crow’ songs so that
minstrel performances were then staged on their own as
stand-alone productions.
As Joyce Green MacDonald notes, the cultural moment in
which these burlesques were born was loaded: Edmund
Kean began performing the Moor as tawny instead of black
for the first time in 1820; the black American actor Ira
Aldridge made his first appearance onstage in London in
1825; the Slavery Abolition Act was passed in the UK in
1833; and Othello burlesques began appearing around
1834 (MacDonald, 232–3). The minstrel show
appropriations of Othello were all comical in nature;
several associated Othello with the nineteenth-century
slave trade making him explicitly Haitian or Jamaican; and
several included a scene never shown in Shakespeare’s
original – the elopement of Desdemona and Othello.
MacDonald argues, ‘The Othello burlesques work hard to
divest Shakespeare’s climactic scene of the marriage-bed
murder of a white girl by her black husband of its power to
assault the sensibilities of whiteness’ (MacDonald, 243).
Dowling’s Othello Travestie: An Operatic Burletta (1834),
for instance, ends with an explicit call to ‘let the past be all
forgot’ (Dowling, 43). Even though Othello has killed
Desdemona, her ghost rises up to sing a song that scares
him and actually revives her. Desdemona sings: ‘You see I
am not dead – not I’, which helps to resolve everything:
 RODERIGO Then let the past be all forgot –
OTHELLO Agreed!
DESDEMONA Agreed!
IAGO Agreed!
GHOST Why not?

(Dowling, 43)

Of this ending MacDonald argues, ‘Silencing Othello and

having all the assembled characters agree simply to forget
what has happened to them doubly revises Othello, both
revisions suggesting the kinds of tensions which
Shakespearean blackface may be designed to address’
(MacDonald, 248). In other words, it squashes fears of
racial pretension and renders black rage as both laughable
and controllable. Most of the minstrel show versions of
Othello perform this type of cultural work: they denigrate
black masculinity but also neutralize the effects of its
potential threats to white sexuality.
In an entirely different appropriative move, the Black
Arts Movement, the artistic arm of the Civil Rights
Movement and the Black Power Movement, saw the first
black authors responding to Othello in their own rewritings
of the play. Publishing at the time under the name LeRoi
Jones, Amiri Baraka (1934–2014) wrote the twinned plays
Dutchman and Slave in 1964, and they are said to
‘represent the ultimate African American revision of
Othello’ (Andreas, 50). While Slave has an explicit
reference to Othello, Dutchman’s plot is clearly an active
appropriation of Shakespeare’s interracial narrative. Clay, a
young black man, meets Lulu, a young white woman, on the
New York metro. They talk and flirt, but their encounter
grows charged and aggressive, ending with Lulu stabbing
Clay and ordering the other white Metro riders to throw his
corpse off the train. As James Andreas writes, ‘The myth of
the ritual murder of innocent white virgins is, in Dutchman,
fully deconstructed or inverted to reflect more accurately
the relationship between the races that has existed
throughout Western history…. Baraka is suggesting that
the true victim in the biracial sexual struggle is the black
male, and he is the partner who is ritually sacrificed in
Dutchman’ (Andreas, 50). Jason Demeter contextualizes the
play effectively, explaining that Dutchman played at
roughly the same moment when Gladys Vaughan’s Othello
appeared in New York’s Central Park (starring James Earl
Jones) and John Dexter’s Othello appeared in London
(starring Laurence Olivier) (Demeter). In his manifesto on
theatre, ‘The Revolutionary Theatre’, Baraka explains that
‘Clay, in Dutchman, Ray, in The Toilet, Walker in The Slave,
are all victims. In the Western sense they could be heroes.
But the Revolutionary Theatre, even if it is Western, must
be anti-Western. It must show horrible coming attractions
of The Crumbling of the West. Even as Artaud designed The
Conquest of the Mexico, so we must design The Conquest
of the White Eye, and show the missionaries and wiggly
Liberals dying under blasts of concrete’ (L. Jones, 4–5).
Shakespeare’s Othello, then, was one of the pillars that had
to be rewritten in order for ‘The Crumbling of the White
Eye’ to occur in Baraka’s artistic-political imagination.
Iago (1979) by C. Bernard Jackson (1927–1996) took a
different approach to appropriating Othello, making Iago a
Moor who is less the aggressor and more a victim of racism
as well. Cassio, in Jackson’s play, becomes the scheming
force, with Emilia attempting to set the story straight to the
‘Author’. Unlike Baraka, however, Jackson weaves in many
of Shakespeare’s lines, but it becomes clear how
unsatisfying Cinthio’s and Shakespeare’s versions have
become when Emilia proclaims at the end, ‘They came and
asked me what had happened and Cinthio wrote it all
down. And though I told him exactly what I’m telling you,
he changed the facts as he saw fit, so I vowed to squat and
wait here in this house which I have built over my
husband’s grave and will not leave nor let my spirit rest
until what truly happened here is known and the story is
set straight’ (Jackson, 91). Jackson’s play, then, makes
explicit how unsatisfying the older narratives are because
they ignore the viewpoints of women and people of colour.
For those silenced voices to be heard, playwrights like
Jackson decided they needed to return to Shakespeare’s
text to script those voices literally.
One final example of a black playwright appropriating
Othello comes from Caleen Sinnette Jennings (1950–),
whose one-act play Casting Othello (1999) looks closely at
the politics of performance for actors of colour in a
Shakespearean production. A metadramatic play, Casting
Othello has a black character named Georgia who openly
struggles with the racial politics in Shakespeare’s Othello:
‘Desdemona loves Othello because he’s the exotic black
buck. Othello loves Desdemona because she’s Miss Anne.
Now I’ve got to play the maid to the alabaster goddess who
Mandingo over here, played by my husband, is drooling all
over…. I’m gonna tell you straight up, people, this is a
struggle’ (Jennings, 88). Employing racial stereotypes and
caricatures that post-date Shakespeare’s Othello (the black
buck, Miss Anne and Mandingo), Georgia nonetheless
draws a clear line from Othello to nineteenth- and
twentieth-century racial narratives. Not resolving the
crisis, Jennings’ play allows the audience to see the
challenges actors of colour face when they are cast in
Shakespeare’s Othello. Casting Othello makes it apparent
that it is not merely Shakespeare’s politics that need to be
addressed in contemporary performances of Othello, but
also the ensuing history of racial portrayals.
This provides a natural segue into the final group of
Othello appropriations – those by feminist playwrights. As
both Jackson’s Iago and Jennings’ Casting Othello make
clear, racialized appropriations of Othello often include
explicit investigations of modern gender constructions. In
many ways, the appropriations by black and feminist
playwrights demonstrate the ways Othello can enable
discussions about intersectionality; that is, that systems of
oppression operate on multiple axes of identity
simultaneously, like race, gender and class. In fact, the
feminist appropriations of Othello often make
intersectionality a central issue. Take, for example,
Desdemona, a play about a handkerchief (1994) by Paula
Vogel (1951–). In Vogel’s play, the historical setting of
Shakespeare’s Othello remains the same, but the entire
play takes place in the kitchen, in which only Desdemona,
Emilia and Bianca traverse: the men do not enter this
domestic space and therefore do not appear in the play.
While there are moments of female solidarity in Vogel’s
play, the class distinctions between the three women are
portrayed in stark terms as defined by the dramatis
personae:

DESDEMONA – Upper-class. Very.

EMILIA – Broad Irish Brogue.
BIANCA – Stage Cockney.
(Vogel, 4)

As such, Desdemona behaves in an entitled fashion that is

not explicitly revealed in Shakespeare’s play; she is
sexually adventurous, even pretending to be a prostitute
with Bianca, and she relies on Emilia to keep her secrets in
return for small favours that she promises to her and Iago.
The power differentials between the women are revealed to
be entirely based on their class differences.
 And yet the women are united in the fact that they are
dependent on the men who are entirely absent from
Desdemona. In fact, Emilia is constantly asking for
Desdemona to ask Othello to give Iago a promotion. When
Desdemona asks why, especially considering the fact that
Emilia hates Iago, Emilia reveals that her entire way of
being is defined by her need for financial independence:

You see, miss, for us in the bottom ranks, when man and wife hate each other,
what is left in a lifetime of marriage but to save and scrimp, plot and plan?
The more I’d like to put some nasty rat-ridder in his stew, the more I think
of money – and he thinks the same…. I’d like to rise a bit in the world, and
women can only do that through their mates – no matter what class
buggers they all are. I says to him each night – I long for the day you make
me a lieutenant’s widow!
(Vogel, 14)

Thus, Vogel works within Shakespeare’s plot structure of

Othello to expose the way the play is as much about gender
and class as it is about race. The absent superstructure,
which the play implies is created by white upper-class men,
oppresses all others, while presenting the guise that power
sharing may occur for some. As Desdemona prepares for
bed, scared that Othello will kill her, Vogel lets the
audience know that no one can survive in this system of
oppression: black, female and the lower classes will be all
smothered together.
Harlem Duet (1997) by Djanet Sears (1959–) does not
maintain Shakespeare’s socio-historical framework for
Othello and instead transposes the play to three different
time periods in Harlem: 1860, 1928 and the ‘present day’.
Circling around three different relationships between black
men and black women, Sears wants to excavate and
recover the voices of the black women who are absent from
Shakespeare’s Othello. In her introductory notes to the
play, Sears explains, ‘As a veteran theatre practitioner of
African Descent, Shakespeare’s Othello had haunted me
since I first was introduced to him…. In an effort to
exorcise this ghost, I have written Harlem Duet. Harlem
Duet, a rhapsodic blues tragedy, explores the effects of race
and sex on the lives of people of African descent. It is a tale
of love…. [T]his is Billie’s [the black woman’s] story’ (Sears,
‘Notes’, 14–15). Through the multiple time frames, the play
implicitly asks why black women are denigrated by black
men in favour of white women. The love between black men
and black women is presented as true and passionate, and
yet their relationships crumble under the social
constructions that render white femininity as the standard
for all beauty and desirability. In the end, the female
protagonist from present day Harlem, Billie, who is clearly
named after the black blues singer Billie Holiday whose
own life was racked by tragedy, sits in a psychiatric ward
attempting to find forgiveness for Othello who left her for
the white Mona. Part of her problem, though, is that she
dreams that her white doctor has ‘flashing blue eyes’.
While her doctor does not know what this dream means,
Billie says, ‘Her eyes were flashing blue. She could only see
my questions through her blue eyes’ (Sears, Harlem, 115).
In other words, the hope for mutual understanding is
strained because it is too hard to see through other
people’s eyes when race is concerned. For Sears, then,
Shakespeare’s Othello comes to emblematize the problems
posed to cross-/ inter-racial communication, empathy and
even love.
Desdemona (2012) by Toni Morrison (1931–) with lyrics
by Rokia Traoré likewise interrogates the possibilities of
cross-/ inter-racial communication and love. Speaking at a
symposium about Desdemona at the University of
California, Berkeley in 2011, Morrison indicated her
dissatisfaction with Shakespeare’s Othello and its
performance history: ‘the place of spectacle and exoticism
that Othello presents – not just in the play, but as I have
long noticed in the performances, none of which I have
ever really liked – is not as a complicated human being but
as a kind of male, Africanist, black warrior/symbol of
something’ (Morrison). Morrison’s re-vision, then, provided
a vehicle to explore what could happen if the characters
were all fuller, more complicated and freed from the
bounds of time. In fact, the play takes place after death,
which Morrison presents as timeless. Thus, Desdemona and
Othello have the luxury of time to discuss all the facets of
their relationship. By their final scene together, it is clear
that Desdemona has fully grasped what timelessness means
in terms of relationships and love. She tells Othello that he
misunderstood her love for him when they were alive:

DESDEMONA You believed I loved

Othello the warrior. I did not.
I was the empire you had already conquered.
Alone together we could have been invincible.
OTHELLO And now? Together? Alone? Is it too late?
DESDEMONA ‘Late’ has no meaning here. Here there is
Only the possibility of wisdom.

(Morrison and Traoré, 54–5)

Desdemona’s final words are, ‘We will be judged by how

well we love’ (Morrison and Traoré, 56), and as Peter
Sellars writes in the foreword to the published play, ‘The
apologies that we have waited four hundred years to hear
are finally spoken. We are not simply left with tragedy’
(Sellars, 11).
 What makes Desdemona a particularly interesting
feminist appropriation of Othello, though, is the
relationship that Morrison depicts between Desdemona and
her mother’s servant, Barbary, who in Shakespeare’s play
taught her the ‘Willow Song’ and in Morrison’s play is
named Sa’ran. Sounding like many contemporary white
liberals, Desdemona assumes that she and Barbary ‘shared
so much’ (Morrison and Traoré, 45). But Sa’ran flatly
declares,

We shared nothing.
…
I mean you don’t even know my name.
Barbary? Barbary is what you call Africa.
Barbary is the geography of the foreigner,
the savage.
…
I was your slave.
(Morrison and Traoré, 45)

While Barbary finally tells Desdemona that her real name is

Sa’ran and also admits that Desdemona ‘never hurt or
abused’ her, she does not express an interest in engaging
Desdemona further. Instead, she ends declaring:

I have thought
long and hard about my sorrow. No more
‘willow’. Afterlife is time and with time there
is change. My song is new.
(Morrison and Traoré, 48)
Sa’ran’s new song celebrates the fact that she is comforted
by a mysterious breath that ‘caresses’ the tears from her
eyes:

And I hear a call – clear, so clear:

‘You will never die again’.
What bliss to know
I will never die again.
(Morrison and Traoré, 49)

Desdemona responds, ‘We will never die again’, rendering

her understanding of Sa’ran and Sa’ran’s song unclear. Are
we to interpret Desdemona’s inclusion of her own suffering
with Sa’ran’s as an epiphany about their conjoined future
in the afterworld, or is it merely a return to the unthinking
collapse of all female suffering, one that implicitly
whitewashes the unequal treatment of black and white
bodies? While the play presents a very hopeful outcome for
Desdemona’s afterlife relationship with Othello, it presents
a much more complicated portrait of her relationship with
Sa’ran. Like Sears’s play, Desdemona posits that
cross-/inter-racial relationships can only be successful
through hard work and long, sustained, and at times
uncomfortable, dialogues.
It is important to note as well that there are myriad film,
novelistic and artistic appropriations of Othello. There are
simply too many to do justice to them in this introduction,
but there is excellent scholarship on Othello’s afterlives in
these various media.22

Concluding Thoughts
I feel compelled to return to storytelling as I conclude this
introduction to William Shakespeare’s Othello because the
play provides a story that will not remain stable; it will not
sit still. Even if it were possible to divine Shakespeare’s
true thoughts about and intentions for Othello, that
platonic ideal of an Ur-text Othello could not erase the
histories and stories that proliferate out of it. The play
invites revisions, retellings, appropriations and adaptations
because it shows just how powerful it is to control the
master narrative. As I said before, he who controls the
storytelling controls the world in Othello. It should be
noted, though, that proliferation is not necessarily a
positive force (e.g., cancer cells proliferate through
metastasis). In the end, then, Othello’s most constructive
energy may be geared toward the listeners of tall-tales.
The beginning of 1.3 is often cut in productions because
it is a self-contained scene of about 50 lines in which the
Duke and Senators receive conflicting news about the
Turkish fleet. The reports provide different numbers for the
Turkish galleys (107, 140 and 200), and other reports
indicate that the fleet is heading to Rhodes instead of
Cyprus. When the Duke questions the meaning of ‘this
change’ in news (1.3.18), the first Senator provides a model
for engaged listening. He says:

This cannot be,

By no assay of reason: ’tis a pageant
To keep us in false gaze. When we consider
Th’importancy of Cyprus to the Turk,
And let ourselves again but understand
That as it more concerns the Turk than Rhodes
So may he with more facile question bear it,
For that it stands not in such warlike brace
But altogether lacks th’abilities
That Rhodes is dressed in. If we make thought of this
We must not think the Turk is so unskilful
To leave that latest which concerns him first,
Neglecting an attempt of ease and gain
To wake and wage a danger profitless.
(1.3.18–31)

The Senator, in fact, provides the perfect model for a

reader or audience member who is not only engaged and
thoughtful, but also sceptical and wary. He does not accept
at face value the claim that the Turks will forsake the
importance of gaining Cyprus for the ease of gaining
Rhodes because to do so would mean that the Turks are
‘unskilful’ in their quest to increase their empire. In effect,
the Senator forestalls the proliferation of this story by
being an attentive audience member who questions the
evidence and provides well-reasoned counter-arguments
for the validity of that evidence. In fact, the Senator
convinces the Duke who determinedly declares, ‘Nay, in all
confidence, he’s not for Rhodes’ (1.3.32). Both the Senator
and the Duke are proven correct when the next messenger
enters and reveals that the Turkish fleet went to Rhodes
simply to meet up with thirty additional ships to take with
them to Cyprus.
I end with this short scene because it encapsulates what
so many characters in the play fail to do: listen with a
sceptical ear. While Othello continues to inspire artists,
audience members and scholars to re-tell the story as a
way to control the play’s stories, frames and contexts, it
really should inspire a new breed of listener, one who can
discern the significance and validity of those stories,
frames and contexts.

1 All quotations come from online comments to Brown.

2 For more on other early modern racialized characters see Jones, E. For more
on race and rhetoric see Smith, Race.
3 While Dover Wilson was the first to speculate that Titus Andronicus was co-
authored with George Peele (Wilson Titus), and while Brian Vickers
 followed up (Vickers, 148–243), Gary Taylor and John Nance have employed
sophisticated computer modelling to prove the point (Taylor and Nance).
4 In 2004, Slate Magazine ran a scathing critique of The New York Times for
publishing an article that purportedly examined ‘Arab’ donations to George
W. Bush’s campaign when in fact the article conflated Arabs, Muslims and
others (Shafer).
5 For more on early modern stage practices see Stern.
6 For more on the techniques used to make characters black on the early
modern stage see, Karim-Cooper; Smith ‘Othello’; and Smith, ‘White’.
7 I cannot determine who coined the term the ‘Bronze Age of Othello’ because
it is often cited and never fully attributed. The earliest reference I have
been able to find is from 1969, but even there scare quotes were employed
for the term, indicating that the phrase was already in circulation (Carlisle,
194).
8 For more on early modern English views of the Turks see Burton; and Vitkus,
Turning.
9 For more on early modern captivity narratives see Vitkus, Piracy.
10 For an overview of animal studies see Haraway. For a specific reading of
animal studies in early modern studies see Raber.
11 First quoted in Latin in Tillotson. The original Latin text, as well as the
English translation used here, is quoted in Riv, 1852.
12 It should be noted that Emilia’s speech about marital fidelity (4.3.85–102) is
absent from the 1622 Quarto and present in the 1623 Folio. Ernst
Honigmann argues that the Quarto text was based on a scribal copy of
Shakespeare’s foul papers, while the Folio text was based on the scribal
copy of Shakespeare’s fair copy. For a full account of the differences in the
texts see Honigmann, Texts.
13 For more about what Shakespeare withholds from the audience see
Honigmann, Shakespeare, 77–100.
14 Ian Smith provides a fascinating reading of the handkerchief as black
instead of white, arguing that the black colour would reflect early modern
performance tropes in which blackness was frequently portrayed by cloth
masks and gloves. A black handkerchief, Smith argues, ‘constitutes a
fitting, virtually self-explanatory symbol of the play’s central but
controversial interracial marriage’ (Smith, ‘Othello’, 24).
15 George Bernard Shaw coined the term ‘Bardolatry’ in 1901 when he
critiqued the Victorian custom of deeply editing the plays for performance:
‘It is a significant fact that the mutilators of Shakespear, who never could
be persuaded that Shakespear knew his business better than they, have
ever been the most fanatical worshippers…. It was an age of gross
ignorance of Shakespear and incapacity for his works that produced the
indiscriminate eulogies with which we are familiar. It was the revival of
genuine criticism of those works that coincided with the movement for
giving genuine instead of spurious and silly representations of his plays. So
much for Bardolatry!’ (Shaw, xxxi).
16 For more about current trends in Shakespearean pedagogy see Thompson
and Turchi.
17 For more about Aldridge’s reception in Eastern Europe see Hill, 17–27; and
Courtney, 103–22.
18 For more about these casting trends see Pao.
19 For a similar argument about performances of Lavinia’s death in Titus
Andronicus see Aebischer, 56–63.
20 The Willow Song (4.3.39–56), however, provides another instance of textual
variation between the 1622 Quarto and the 1623 Folio versions of Othello.
The reasons for this variation are explored by Honigmann, Texts, 10–11.
21 For a great resource that includes many videos of global productions see
MIT’s Global Shakespeares open access website (MIT).
22 For more on Othello’s afterlives in poetry, novels and the visual arts see
Erickson. For more on Othello’s afterlives on film see Hatchuel and Vienne-
Guerrin. And for a comprehensive bibliography of Othello on film see
Fernández.
THE TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO,
THE MOOR OF VENICE
LIST OF ROLES

OTHELLO the Moor [a general in the service of

Venice]
BRABANTIO father to Desdemona [a Venetian senator]
CASSIO an honourable lieutenant [who serves
under Othello]
IAGO a villain [Othello’s ancient or ensign]
RODERIGO a gulled gentleman [of Venice]
DUKE of Venice
SENATORS [of Venice]
MONTANO governor of Cyprus [replaced by Othello]
GENTLEMEN of Cyprus

SAILOR
CLOWN
DESDEMONA wife to Othello [and Brabantio’s daughter]
EMILIA wife to Iago
BIANCA a courtesan [and Cassio’s mistress]

[Messenger, Herald, Officers, Gentlemen, Musicians and

Attendants
Scene: Act 1, Venice; Acts 2–5, Cyprus]
 THE TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO,
THE MOOR OF VENICE
[1.1] Enter RODERIGO and IAGO.

RODERIGO
Tush, never tell me, I take it much unkindly
That thou, Iago, who hast had my purse As if the strings were
thine, shouldst know of this.

IAGO
’Sblood, but you’ll not hear me. If ever I did dream
Of such a matter, abhor me.
RODERIGO Thou told’st me
Thou didst hold him in thy hate.
IAGO Despise me
If I do not. Three great ones of the city,
In personal suit to make me his lieutenant, Off-capped to him,
and by the faith of man
I know my price, I am worth no worse a place.
But he, as loving his own pride and purposes,
Evades them, with a bombast circumstance
Horribly stuffed with epithets of war, And in conclusion
Nonsuits my mediators. For ‘Certes,’ says he, ‘I have
already chose my officer.’
And what was he?
Forsooth, a great arithmetician, One Michael Cassio, a
Florentine,
A fellow almost damned in a fair wife
That never set a squadron in the field
Nor the division of a battle knows More than a spinster –
unless the bookish theoric, Wherein the toged consuls can
propose
As masterly as he. Mere prattle without practice
Is all his soldiership – but he, sir, had th’election
And I, of whom his eyes had seen the proof
At Rhodes, at Cyprus and on other grounds,
Christian and heathen, must be be-leed and calmed
By debitor and creditor. This counter-caster
He, in good time, must his lieutenant be
And I, God bless the mark, his Moorship’s ancient!

RODERIGO
By heaven, I rather would have been his hangman.

IAGO
Why, there’s no remedy, ’tis the curse of service:
Preferment goes by letter and affection
And not by old gradation, where each second
Stood heir to th’ first. Now sir, be judge yourself
Whether I in any just term am affined
To love the Moor.
RODERIGO I would not follow him then.

IAGO
O sir, content you!
I follow him to serve my turn upon him.
We cannot all be masters, nor all masters
Cannot be truly followed. You shall mark
Many a duteous and knee-crooking knave
That, doting on his own obsequious bondage, Wears out
his time much like his master’s ass For nought but
 provender, and, when he’s old, cashiered.
Whip me such honest knaves! Others there are
Who, trimmed in forms and visages of duty, Keep yet their
hearts attending on themselves
And, throwing but shows of service on their lords, Do well
thrive by them, and, when they have lined their coats, Do
themselves homage: these fellows have some soul
And such a one do I profess myself. For, sir,
It is as sure as you are Roderigo,
Were I the Moor, I would not be Iago.
In following him I follow but myself:
Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty But seeming so, for
my peculiar end,
For when my outward action doth demonstrate
The native act and figure of my heart In complement extern,
’tis not long after
But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve
For daws to peck at: I am not what I am.

RODERIGO
What a full fortune does the thicklips owe
If he can carry’t thus!
IAGO Call up her father,
Rouse him, make after him, poison his delight, Proclaim him in
the streets, incense her kinsmen,
And, though he in a fertile climate dwell,
Plague him with flies! Though that his joy be joy Yet throw
such changes of vexation on’t
As it may lose some colour.

RODERIGO
Here is her father’s house, I’ll call aloud.
IAGO
Do, with like timorous accent and dire yell As when by
night and negligence the fire
Is spied in populous cities.

RODERIGO
What ho! Brabantio, Signior Brabantio ho!

IAGO
Awake, what ho, Brabantio! thieves, thieves, thieves!
Look to your house, your daughter and your bags!
Thieves, thieves!

BRABANTIO [appears above] at a window.

BRABANTIO
What is the reason of this terrible summons?
What is the matter there?

RODERIGO
Signior, is all your family within?

IAGO
Are your doors locked?
BRABANTIO Why? Wherefore ask you this?

IAGO
Zounds, sir, you’re robbed, for shame put on your gown!
Your heart is burst, you have lost half your soul, Even now,
now, very now, an old black ram
Is tupping your white ewe! Arise, arise, Awake the snorting
citizens with the bell
Or else the devil will make a grandsire of you, Arise I say!
BRABANTIO What, have you lost your wits?

RODERIGO
Most reverend signior, do you know my voice?

BRABANTIO
Not I, what are you?
RODERIGO My name is Roderigo.

BRABANTIO
The worser welcome!
I have charged thee not to haunt about my doors:
In honest plainness thou hast heard me say
My daughter is not for thee; and now in madness,
Being full of supper and distempering draughts, Upon
malicious bravery dost thou come
To start my quiet? 1

RODERIGO
Sir, sir, sir –
BRABANTIO But thou must needs be sure
My spirit and my place have in them power
To make this bitter to thee.
RODERIGO Patience, good sir!
BRABANTIO
What tell’st thou me of robbing? This is Venice:
My house is not a grange.
RODERIGO Most grave Brabantio, In simple and pure soul I 1
come to you – IAGO Zounds, sir, you are one of those that will
not serve God, if the devil bid you. Because we come to do
you service, and you think we are ruffians, you’ll have 1
your daughter covered with a Barbary horse; you’ll have
your nephews neigh to you, you’ll have coursers for cousins
and jennets for germans!
BRABANTIO What profane wretch art thou?
IAGO I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter and 1
the Moor are now making the beast with two backs.

BRABANTIO
Thou art a villain!
IAGO You are a senator!

BRABANTIO
This thou shalt answer. I know thee, Roderigo!

RODERIGO
Sir, I will answer anything. But I beseech you,
If’t be your pleasure and most wise consent, As partly I 1
find it is, that your fair daughter At this odd-even and dull
watch o’th’ night, Transported with no worse nor better
guard
But with a knave of common hire, a gondolier, To the gross
clasps of a lascivious Moor – If this be known to you, 1
and your allowance, We then have done you bold and saucy
wrongs.
But if you know not this, my manners tell me
We have your wrong rebuke. Do not believe
That from the sense of all civility
I thus would play and trifle with your reverence. 1
Your daughter, if you have not given her leave,
I say again, hath made a gross revolt,
Tying her duty, beauty, wit and fortunes
In an extravagant and wheeling stranger Of here and 1
everywhere. Straight satisfy yourself: If she be in her
chamber or your house
Let loose on me the justice of the state
For thus deluding you.
BRABANTIO Strike on the tinder, ho!
Give me a taper, call up all my people.
This accident is not unlike my dream, Belief of it oppresses 1
me already.
Light, I say, light! Exit above.
IAGO Farewell, for I must leave you.
It seems not meet, nor wholesome to my place, To be
produced, as, if I stay, I shall,
Against the Moor. For I do know the state, 1
However this may gall him with some check, Cannot with
safety cast him, for he’s embarked
With such loud reason to the Cyprus wars, Which even now
stands in act, that for their souls
Another of his fathom they have none To lead their 1
business – in which regard, Though I do hate him as I do
hell-pains,
Yet for necessity of present life
I must show out a flag and sign of love,
Which is indeed but sign. That you shall surely find him, 1
Lead to the Sagittary the raised search, And there will I be
with him. So farewell. Exit.
 Enter BRABANTIO in his night-gown and Servants with
torches.

BRABANTIO
It is too true an evil, gone she is,
And what’s to come of my despised time
Is nought but bitterness. Now Roderigo, Where didst thou 1
see her? – O unhappy girl! – With the Moor, say’st thou? –
Who would be a father? –
How didst thou know ’twas she? – O, she deceives me
Past thought! – What said she to you? – Get more tapers, 1
Raise all my kindred. Are they married, think you?

RODERIGO
Truly I think they are.

BRABANTIO
O heaven, how got she out? O treason of the blood!
– Fathers, from hence trust not your daughters’ minds
By what you see them act. – Is there not charms
By which the property of youth and maidhood May be 1
abused? Have you not read, Roderigo,
Of some such thing?
RODERIGO Yes sir, I have indeed.

BRABANTIO
Call up my brother. – O, would you had had her!
Some one way, some another. – Do you know
Where we may apprehend her and the Moor? 1

RODERIGO
I think I can discover him, if you please
To get good guard and go along with me.

BRABANTIO
Pray you lead on. At every house I’ll call,
I may command at most: get weapons, ho!
And raise some special officers of night. 1
On, good Roderigo, I’ll deserve your pains. Exeunt.

[1.2] Enter OTHELLO, IAGO and Attendants with torches.

IAGO
Though in the trade of war I have slain men
Yet do I hold it very stuff o’th’ conscience
To do no contrived murder: I lack iniquity
Sometimes to do me service. Nine or ten times
I had thought t’have yerked him here, under the ribs.

OTHELLO
’Tis better as it is.
IAGO Nay, but he prated
And spoke such scurvy and provoking terms
Against your honour,
That with the little godliness I have
I did full hard forbear him. But I pray, sir, Are you fast
married? Be assured of this,
That the magnifico is much beloved And hath in his effect a
voice potential
As double as the duke’s: he will divorce you
Or put upon you what restraint or grievance
The law, with all his might to enforce it on, Will give him cable.
OTHELLO Let him do his spite; My services, which I have done
the signiory,
Shall out-tongue his complaints. ’Tis yet to know – Which,
when I know that boasting is an honour,
I shall promulgate – I fetch my life and being
From men of royal siege, and my demerits
May speak unbonneted to as proud a fortune As this that I
have reached. For know, Iago,
But that I love the gentle Desdemona
I would not my unhoused free condition Put into
circumscription and confine
For the sea’s worth. But look, what lights come yond?

Enter CASSIO, with Officers and torches.

IAGO
Those are the raised father and his friends,
You were best go in.
OTHELLO Not I, I must be found.
My parts, my title and my perfect soul Shall manifest me
rightly. Is it they?

IAGO
By Janus, I think no.

OTHELLO
The servants of the Duke? and my lieutenant?
The goodness of the night upon you, friends.
What is the news?
CASSIO The duke does greet you, general, And he requires your
haste-post-haste appearance, Even on the instant.
OTHELLO What’s the matter, think you?

CASSIO
Something from Cyprus, as I may divine;
It is a business of some heat. The galleys
Have sent a dozen sequent messengers
This very night, at one another’s heels,
And many of the consuls, raised and met, Are at the duke’s
already. You have been hotly called for, When, being not
at your lodging to be found, The Senate hath sent about
three several quests
To search you out.
OTHELLO ’Tis well I am found by you:
I will but spend a word here in the house
And go with you. [Exit.]
CASSIO Ancient, what makes he here?

IAGO
Faith, he tonight hath boarded a land carrack: If it prove
lawful prize, he’s made for ever.

CASSIO
I do not understand.
IAGO He’s married.
CASSIO To whom?

IAGO
Marry, to –

Enter OTHELLO.
 Come, captain, will you go?
OTHELLO Ha’ with you.

CASSIO
Here comes another troop to seek for you.

Enter with Officers and torches and

BRABANTIO, RODERIGO,
weapons.

IAGO
It is Brabantio: general, be advised, He comes to bad
intent.
OTHELLO Holla, stand there!

RODERIGO
Signior, it is the Moor.
BRABANTIO Down with him, thief!
[They draw on both sides.]

IAGO
You, Roderigo! come sir, I am for you.

OTHELLO
Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust them.
Good signior, you shall more command with years Than
with your weapons.

BRABANTIO
O thou foul thief, where hast thou stowed my daughter?
Damned as thou art, thou hast enchanted her, For I’ll refer me
to all things of sense, If she in chains of magic were not
bound,
Whether a maid so tender, fair and happy, So opposite to
marriage that she shunned
The wealthy, curled darlings of our nation,
Would ever have, t’incur a general mock,
Run from her guardage to the sooty bosom Of such a thing
as thou? to fear, not to delight.
Judge me the world if ’tis not gross in sense
That thou hast practised on her with foul charms, Abused her
delicate youth with drugs or minerals
That weakens motion: I’ll have’t disputed on, ’Tis probable
and palpable to thinking.
I therefore apprehend and do attach thee
For an abuser of the world, a practiser
Of arts inhibited and out of warrant.
Lay hold upon him; if he do resist
Subdue him at his peril!
OTHELLO Hold your hands, Both you of my inclining and the
rest:
Were it my cue to fight, I should have known it Without a
prompter. Where will you that I go
To answer this your charge?
BRABANTIO To prison, till fit time Of law, and course of direct
session
Call thee to answer.
OTHELLO What if I do obey?
How may the duke be therewith satisfied,
Whose messengers are here about my side
Upon some present business of the state, To bring me to
him?
OFFICER ’Tis true, most worthy signior,
The duke’s in council, and your noble self
I am sure is sent for.
BRABANTIO How? the duke in council?
In this time of the night? Bring him away:
Mine’s not an idle cause, the duke himself, Or any of my
brothers of the state,
Cannot but feel this wrong as ’twere their own.
For if such actions may have passage free
Bond-slaves and pagans shall our statesmen be. Exeunt.

[1.3] Enter DUKE and Senators, set at a table, with lights and
Attendants.

DUKE
There is no composition in these news
That gives them credit.
1 SENATOR Indeed, they are disproportioned.
My letters say a hundred and seven galleys.

DUKE
And mine a hundred forty.
2 SENATOR And mine two hundred.
But though they jump not on a just account – As in these
cases, where the aim reports,
’Tis oft with difference – yet do they all confirm
A Turkish fleet, and bearing up to Cyprus.

DUKE
Nay, it is possible enough to judgement:
I do not so secure me in the error But the main article I do
approve
In fearful sense.
SAILOR (within) What ho, what ho, what ho!
 Enter Sailor.

OFFICER
A messenger from the galleys.

DUKE
Now? what’s the business?

SAILOR
The Turkish preparation makes for Rhodes, So was I bid
report here to the state
By Signior Angelo.

DUKE
How say you by this change?
1 SENATOR This cannot be,
By no assay of reason: ’tis a pageant
To keep us in false gaze. When we consider Th’importancy
of Cyprus to the Turk,
And let ourselves again but understand
That as it more concerns the Turk than Rhodes
So may he with more facile question bear it,
For that it stands not in such warlike brace
But altogether lacks th’abilities
That Rhodes is dressed in. If we make thought of this We must
not think the Turk is so unskilful
To leave that latest which concerns him first,
Neglecting an attempt of ease and gain
To wake and wage a danger profitless.
DUKE
Nay, in all confidence, he’s not for Rhodes.

OFFICER
Here is more news.

Enter a Messenger.

MESSENGER
The Ottomites, reverend and gracious, Steering with due
course toward the isle of Rhodes, Have there injointed with
an after fleet – 1 SENATOR
Ay, so I thought; how many, as you guess?

MESSENGER
Of thirty sail; and now they do re-stem
Their backward course, bearing with frank appearance
Their purposes toward Cyprus. Signior Montano,
Your trusty and most valiant servitor,
With his free duty recommends you thus And prays you to
relieve him.

DUKE
’Tis certain then for Cyprus.
Marcus Luccicos, is not he in town?
1 SENATOR
He’s now in Florence.

DUKE
Write from us to him; post-post-haste, dispatch.
1 SENATOR
Here comes Brabantio and the valiant Moor.

Enter BRABANTIO, OTHELLO, CASSIO, IAGO, RODERIGO and

Officers.

DUKE
Valiant Othello, we must straight employ you
Against the general enemy Ottoman.
[to Brabantio] I did not see you: welcome, gentle signior, We
lacked your counsel and your help tonight.

BRABANTIO
So did I yours. Good your grace, pardon me,
Neither my place nor aught I heard of business Hath
raised me from my bed, nor doth the general care
Take hold on me, for my particular grief
Is of so flood-gate and o’erbearing nature
That it engluts and swallows other sorrows And it is still itself.
DUKE Why? What’s the matter?

BRABANTIO
My daughter, O my daughter!
1 SENATOR Dead?
BRABANTIO Ay, to me: She is abused, stolen from me and
corrupted
By spells and medicines bought of mountebanks,
For nature so preposterously to err
Being not deficient, blind, or lame of sense,
Sans witchcraft could not.
DUKE
Whoe’er he be, that in this foul proceeding
Hath thus beguiled your daughter of herself,
And you of her, the bloody book of law
You shall yourself read, in the bitter letter,
After your own sense, yea, though our proper son Stood in
your action.
BRABANTIO Humbly I thank your grace.
Here is the man, this Moor, whom now it seems
Your special mandate for the state affairs
Hath hither brought.
ALL We are very sorry for’t.
DUKE [to Othello]
What in your own part can you say to this?

BRABANTIO
Nothing, but this is so.

OTHELLO
Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors,
My very noble and approved good masters:
That I have ta’en away this old man’s daughter
It is most true; true, I have married her.
The very head and front of my offending
Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my speech And little
blest with the soft phrase of peace, For since these arms of
mine had seven years’ pith
Till now some nine moons wasted, they have used Their
dearest action in the tented field, And little of this great
world can I speak
More than pertains to feats of broil and battle, And therefore
little shall I grace my cause
In speaking for myself. Yet, by your gracious patience,
I will a round unvarnished tale deliver Of my whole course of
love, what drugs, what charms,
What conjuration and what mighty magic –
For such proceeding I am charged withal –
I won his daughter.
BRABANTIO A maiden never bold, Of spirit so still and quiet
that her motion
Blushed at herself; and she, in spite of nature, Of years, of
country, credit, everything,
To fall in love with what she feared to look on?
It is a judgement maimed and most imperfect That will 1
confess perfection so could err
Against all rules of nature, and must be driven
To find out practices of cunning hell
Why this should be. I therefore vouch again
That with some mixtures powerful o’er the blood 1
Or with some dram conjured to this effect He wrought upon
her.
DUKE To vouch this is no proof,
Without more certain and more overt test
Than these thin habits and poor likelihoods
Of modern seeming do prefer against him. 1
1 SENATOR
But, Othello, speak:
Did you by indirect and forced courses Subdue and poison this
young maid’s affections?
Or came it by request and such fair question
As soul to soul affordeth?
OTHELLO I do beseech you, Send for the lady to the 1
Sagittary,
And let her speak of me before her father.
If you do find me foul in her report
The trust, the office I do hold of you
Not only take away, but let your sentence 1
Even fall upon my life.

DUKE
Fetch Desdemona hither.

OTHELLO
Ancient, conduct them, you best know the place.
And till she come, as truly as to heaven
Exeunt [Iago and] two or three.

I do confess the vices of my blood 1

So justly to your grave ears I’ll present
How I did thrive in this fair lady’s love
And she in mine.
DUKE Say it, Othello.

OTHELLO
Her father loved me, oft invited me, Still questioned me 1
the story of my life From year to year – the battles, sieges,
fortunes That I have passed.
I ran it through, even from my boyish days
To th’ very moment that he bade me tell it,
Wherein I spake of most disastrous chances, Of moving 1
accidents by flood and field, Of hair-breadth scapes i’th’
imminent deadly breach, Of being taken by the insolent foe
And sold to slavery; of my redemption thence
And portance in my travailous history; Wherein of antres 1
vast and deserts idle, Rough quarries, rocks and hills whose
heads touch heaven It was my hint to speak – such was my
process – And of the cannibals that each other eat,
The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads 1
Do grow beneath their shoulders. This to hear
Would Desdemona seriously incline,
But still the house affairs would draw her thence,
Which ever as she could with haste dispatch
She’d come again, and with a greedy ear 1
Devour up my discourse; which I, observing,
Took once a pliant hour and found good means To draw from
her a prayer of earnest heart
That I would all my pilgrimage dilate, Whereof by parcels 1
she had something heard But not intentively. I did consent,
And often did beguile her of her tears When I did speak of
some distressful stroke
That my youth suffered. My story being done
She gave me for my pains a world of sighs, 1
She swore in faith ’twas strange, ’twas passing strange, ’Twas
pitiful, ’twas wondrous pitiful;
She wished she had not heard it, yet she wished
That heaven had made her such a man. She thanked me 1
And bade me, if I had a friend that loved her,
I should but teach him how to tell my story
And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake: She loved me
for the dangers I had passed
And I loved her that she did pity them.
This only is the witchcraft I have used: 1

Enter DESDEMONA, IAGO, Attendants.

Here comes the lady, let her witness it.

DUKE
I think this tale would win my daughter too.
Good Brabantio, take up this mangled matter at the best: Men
do their broken weapons rather use
Than their bare hands.
BRABANTIO I pray you, hear her speak. 1
If she confess that she was half the wooer,
Destruction on my head if my bad blame
Light on the man. Come hither, gentle mistress: Do you
perceive, in all this noble company,
Where most you owe obedience?
DESDEMONA My noble father, I do perceive here a divided 1
duty.
To you I am bound for life and education: My life and
education both do learn me
How to respect you; you are the lord of duty, I am hitherto 1
your daughter. But here’s my husband: And so much duty as
my mother showed
To you, preferring you before her father,
So much I challenge that I may profess
Due to the Moor my lord.

BRABANTIO
God be with you, I have done. 1
Please it your grace, on to the state affairs; I had rather to
adopt a child than get it.
Come hither, Moor:
I here do give thee that with all my heart
Which, but thou hast already, with all my heart I would 1
keep from thee. For your sake, jewel, I am glad at soul I
have no other child,
For thy escape would teach me tyranny
To hang clogs on them. I have done, my lord.

DUKE
Let me speak like yourself, and lay a sentence 2
Which as a grise or step may help these lovers Into your
favour.
When remedies are past the griefs are ended By seeing the
worst which late on hopes depended.
To mourn a mischief that is past and gone Is the next way 2
to draw new mischief on.
What cannot be preserved when fortune takes,
Patience her injury a mockery makes.
The robbed that smiles steals something from the thief,
He robs himself that spends a bootless grief. 2

BRABANTIO
So let the Turk of Cyprus us beguile,
We lose it not so long as we can smile;
He bears the sentence well that nothing bears
But the free comfort which from thence he hears.
But he bears both the sentence and the sorrow 2
That, to pay grief, must of poor patience borrow.
These sentences to sugar or to gall,
Being strong on both sides, are equivocal.
But words are words: I never yet did hear
That the bruised heart was pierced through the ear. 2
I humbly beseech you, proceed to th’affairs of state.
DUKE The Turk with a most mighty preparation makes for
Cyprus. Othello, the fortitude of the place is best known to
you, and, though we have there a substitute of most 2
allowed sufficiency, yet opinion, a sovereign mistress of
effects, throws a more safer voice on you. You must
therefore be content to slubber the gloss of your new
fortunes with this more stubborn and boisterous expedition.

OTHELLO
The tyrant custom, most grave senators, Hath made the 2
flinty and steel couch of war
My thrice-driven bed of down. I do agnize
A natural and prompt alacrity
I find in hardness, and do undertake
This present war against the Ottomites. 2
Most humbly therefore, bending to your state, I crave fit
disposition for my wife, Due reverence of place, and
exhibition,
With such accommodation and besort
As levels with her breeding. 2

DUKE
Why, at her father’s.
BRABANTIO I’ll not have it so.

OTHELLO
Nor I.
DESDEMONA Nor would I there reside
To put my father in impatient thoughts
By being in his eye. Most gracious duke,
To my unfolding lend your prosperous ear And let me find 2
a charter in your voice
T’assist my simpleness.

DUKE
What would you, Desdemona?

DESDEMONA
That I did love the Moor to live with him
My downright violence and scorn of fortunes 2
May trumpet to the world. My heart’s subdued
Even to the very quality of my lord:
I saw Othello’s visage in his mind,
And to his honours and his valiant parts
Did I my soul and fortunes consecrate, 2
So that, dear lords, if I be left behind,
A moth of peace, and he go to the war,
The rites for which I love him are bereft me, And I a heavy
interim shall support
By his dear absence. Let me go with him. 2

OTHELLO
Let her have your voice.
Vouch with me, heaven, I therefore beg it not To please the
palate of my appetite, Nor to comply with heat, the young
affects
In me defunct, and proper satisfaction, But to be free and 2
bounteous to her mind.
And heaven defend your good souls that you think I will your
serious and great business scant
When she is with me. No, when light-winged toys
Of feathered Cupid seel with wanton dullness 2
My speculative and officed instrument,
That my disports corrupt and taint my business, Let
housewives make a skillet of my helm
And all indign and base adversities
Make head against my estimation. 2

DUKE
Be it as you shall privately determine,
Either for her stay or going: th’affair cries haste And speed
must answer it.
1 SENATOR You must away tonight.
DESDEMONA
Tonight, my lord?
DUKE This night.
OTHELLO With all my heart.

DUKE
At nine i’th’ morning here we’ll meet again. 2
Othello, leave some officer behind
And he shall our commission bring to you,
And such things else of quality and respect
As doth import you.
OTHELLO So please your grace, my ancient:
A man he is of honesty and trust. 2
To his conveyance I assign my wife, With what else needful
your good grace shall think
To be sent after me.
DUKE Let it be so.
Good-night to everyone. And, noble signior,
If virtue no delighted beauty lack Your son-in-law is far 2
more fair than black.
1 SENATOR
Adieu, brave Moor, use Desdemona well.

BRABANTIO
Look to her, Moor, if thou hast eyes to see:
She has deceived her father, and may thee.
Exeunt [Duke, Brabantio, Senators, Officers].

OTHELLO
My life upon her faith. Honest Iago, My Desdemona must I 2
leave to thee:
I prithee, let thy wife attend on her
And bring them after in the best advantage.
Come, Desdemona, I have but an hour
Of love, of worldly matter and direction 3
To spend with thee. We must obey the time.
Exeunt Othello and Desdemona.

RODERIGO Iago!
IAGO What sayst thou, noble heart?
RODERIGO What will I do, think’st thou?
IAGO Why, go to bed and sleep. 3
RODERIGO I will incontinently drown myself.
IAGO If thou dost, I shall never love thee after. Why, thou silly
gentleman?
RODERIGO It is silliness to live when to live is torment; and 3
then have we a prescription to die, when death is our
physician.
IAGO O villainous! I have looked upon the world for four times
seven years, and since I could distinguish betwixt a benefit
and an injury I never found a man that knew how to 3
love himself. Ere I would say I would drown myself for the
love of a guinea-hen I would change my humanity with a
baboon.
RODERIGO What should I do? I confess it is my shame to be so
fond, but it is not in my virtue to amend it.
IAGO Virtue? a fig! ’tis in ourselves that we are thus, or 3
thus. Our bodies are gardens, to the which our wills are
gardeners. So that if we will plant nettles or sow lettuce,
set hyssop and weed up thyme, supply it with one gender of
herbs or distract it with many, either to have it sterile 3
with idleness or manured with industry – why, the power
and corrigible authority of this lies in our wills. If the
balance of our lives had not one scale of reason to poise
 another of sensuality, the blood and baseness of our natures
would conduct us to most preposterous conclusions. But 3
we have reason to cool our raging motions, our carnal
stings, our unbitted lusts; whereof I take this, that you call
love, to be a sect or scion.
RODERIGO It cannot be.
IAGO It is merely a lust of the blood and a permission of the 3
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 3
thy purse, follow thou the wars, defeat thy favour 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 money in thy purse – nor he his to her. It was a 3
violent commencement in her, and thou shalt see an
answerable sequestration – put but money in thy purse.
These Moors are changeable in their wills – fill thy purse
with money. The food that to him now is as luscious as
locusts shall be to him shortly as acerb as coloquintida. 3
She must change for youth; when she is sated with his body
she will find the error of her choice: she must have change,
she must. Therefore, put money in thy purse. If thou wilt
needs damn thyself, do it a more delicate way than 3
drowning – make all the money thou canst. 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 shalt enjoy her – therefore make money. A
pox of drowning thyself, it is clean out of the way: seek 3
thou rather to be hanged in compassing thy joy than to be
drowned and go without her.
RODERIGO Wilt thou be fast to my hopes, if I depend on the
issue?
IAGO Thou art sure of me – go, make money. I have told 3
thee often, and I re-tell thee again and again, I hate the
Moor. My cause is hearted, thine hath no less reason: let us
be conjunctive in our revenge against him. If thou canst
 cuckold him, thou dost thyself a pleasure, me a sport. 3
There are many events in the womb of time, which will be
delivered. Traverse, go, provide thy money: we will have
more of this tomorrow. Adieu!
RODERIGO Where shall we meet i’th’ morning?
IAGO At my lodging. 3
RODERIGO I’ll be with thee betimes.
IAGO Go to, farewell. – Do you hear, Roderigo?
RODERIGO What say you?
IAGO No more of drowning, do you hear?
RODERIGO I am changed. I’ll sell all my land. Exit.
IAGO Go to, farewell, put money enough in your purse. 3
Thus do I ever make my fool my purse:
For I mine own gained knowledge should profane
If I would time expend with such a snipe
But for my sport and profit. I hate the Moor And it is 3
thought abroad that ’twixt my sheets He’s done my office. I
know not if’t be true, But I for mere suspicion in that kind
Will do as if for surety. He holds me well, The better shall 3
my purpose work on him.
Cassio’s a proper man: let me see now, To get his place, and to
plume up my will
In double knavery. How? How? let’s see:
After some time to abuse Othello’s ear
That he is too familiar with his wife. 3
He hath a person and a smooth dispose
To be suspected, framed to make women false.
The Moor is of a free and open nature That thinks men honest
that but seem to be so,
And will as tenderly be led by th’ nose 4
As asses are.
I have’t, it is engendered! Hell and night Must bring this
monstrous birth to the world’s light. Exit.

[2.1] Enter MONTANO and two Gentlemen.

MONTANO
What from the cape can you discern at sea?
1 GENTLEMAN
Nothing at all, it is a high-wrought flood: I cannot ’twixt the
haven and the main
Descry a sail.

MONTANO
Methinks the wind hath spoke aloud at land, A fuller blast
ne’er shook our battlements:
If it hath ruffianed so upon the sea
What ribs of oak, when mountains melt on them, Can hold the
mortise? What shall we hear of this?
2 GENTLEMAN
A segregation of the Turkish fleet: For do but stand upon
the foaming shore,
The chidden billow seems to pelt the clouds, The wind-shaked
surge, with high and monstrous mane, Seems to cast water
on the burning bear
And quench the guards of th’ever-fired pole.
I never did like molestation view
On the enchafed flood.
MONTANO If that the Turkish fleet Be not ensheltered and
embayed, they are drowned.
It is impossible to bear it out.

Enter a Third Gentleman.

3 GENTLEMAN
News, lads: our wars are done!
The desperate tempest hath so banged the Turks
That their designment halts. A noble ship of Venice Hath seen
a grievous wrack and sufferance
On most part of their fleet.
MONTANO How? Is this true?
3 GENTLEMAN
The ship is here put in,
A Veronessa; Michael Cassio,
Lieutenant to the warlike Moor, Othello,
Is come on shore; the Moor himself at sea,
And is in full commission here for Cyprus.

MONTANO
I am glad on’t, ’tis a worthy governor.
3 GENTLEMAN
But this same Cassio, though he speak of comfort

Enter CASSIO.

Touching the Turkish loss, yet he looks sadly

And prays the Moor be safe, for they were parted
With foul and violent tempest.
MONTANO Pray heavens he be,
For I have served him, and the man commands Like a full
soldier. Let’s to the seaside, ho!
As well to see the vessel that’s come in
As to throw out our eyes for brave Othello,
Even till we make the main and th’aerial blue
An indistinct regard.
3 GENTLEMAN Come, let’s do so, For every minute is
expectancy
Of more arrivance.

CASSIO
Thanks, you the valiant of this warlike isle
That so approve the Moor. O, let the heavens
Give him defence against the elements,
For I have lost him on a dangerous sea.

MONTANO
Is he well shipped?

CASSIO
His bark is stoutly timbered, and his pilot
Of very expert and approved allowance, Therefore my
hopes, not surfeited to death,
Stand in bold cure.
A VOICE (within) A sail! a sail! a sail!

CASSIO
What noise?
2 GENTLEMAN
The town is empty: on the brow o’th’ sea
Stand ranks of people, and they cry ‘A sail!’

CASSIO
My hopes do shape him for the governor. A shot.
2 GENTLEMAN
They do discharge their shot of courtesy, Our friends at
least.
CASSIO I pray you sir, go forth
And give us truth who ’tis that is arrived.
2 GENTLEMAN
I shall. Exit.
MONTANO
But, good lieutenant, is your general wived?

CASSIO
Most fortunately: he hath achieved a maid
That paragons description and wild fame; One that excels the
quirks of blazoning pens And in th’essential vesture of
creation
Does tire the inginer.

Enter Second Gentleman.

How now? Who has put in?

2 GENTLEMAN
’Tis one Iago, ancient to the general.

CASSIO
He’s had most favourable and happy speed.
Tempests themselves, high seas, and howling winds,
The guttered rocks and congregated sands, Traitors
ensteeped to clog the guiltless keel, As having sense of
beauty, do omit
Their mortal natures, letting go safely by
The divine Desdemona.
MONTANO What is she?

CASSIO
She that I spake of, our great captain’s captain, Left in the
conduct of the bold Iago, Whose footing here anticipates
 our thoughts
A se’nnight’s speed. Great Jove, Othello guard,
And swell his sail with thine own powerful breath
That he may bless this bay with his tall ship,
Make love’s quick pants in Desdemona’s arms, Give
renewed fire to our extincted spirits
And bring all Cyprus comfort! –

Enter DESDEMONA, IAGO, RODERIGO and EMILIA.

O, behold,
The riches of the ship is come on shore:
You men of Cyprus, let her have your knees!
Hail to thee, lady, and the grace of heaven,
Before, behind thee, and on every hand
Enwheel thee round!
DESDEMONA I thank you, valiant Cassio.
What tidings can you tell me of my lord?

CASSIO
He is not yet arrived, nor know I aught
But that he’s well, and will be shortly here.

DESDEMONA
O, but I fear … how lost you company?

CASSIO
The great contention of the sea and skies
Parted our fellowship.(A VOICE within: ‘A sail! a sail!’) But hark!
a sail!
 [A shot is heard.]

2 GENTLEMAN
They give their greeting to the citadel:
This likewise is a friend.
CASSIO See for the news.
[Exit Gentleman.]

Good ancient, you are welcome. [to Emilia] Welcome,

mistress.
Let it not gall your patience, good Iago, That I extend my
manners; ’tis my breeding
That gives me this bold show of courtesy.
[He kisses Emilia.]

IAGO
Sir, would she give you so much of her lips 1
As of her tongue she oft bestows on me You’d have enough.
DESDEMONA Alas! she has no speech.

IAGO
In faith, too much!
I find it still when I have list to sleep.
Marry, before your ladyship, I grant, She puts her tongue a 1
little in her heart
And chides with thinking.

EMILIA
You have little cause to say so.
IAGO
Come on, come on, you are pictures out of doors, Bells in 1
your parlours, wild-cats in your kitchens, Saints in your
injuries, devils being offended, Players in your housewifery,
and housewives in …
Your beds!
DESDEMONA O, fie upon thee, slanderer!

IAGO
Nay, it is true, or else I am a Turk:
You rise to play, and go to bed to work. 1

EMILIA
You shall not write my praise.
IAGO No, let me not.

DESDEMONA
What wouldst thou write of me, if thou shouldst praise me?

IAGO
O, gentle lady, do not put me to’t,
For I am nothing if not critical.

DESDEMONA
Come on, assay. There’s one gone to the harbour? 1

IAGO
Ay, madam.
DESDEMONA
I am not merry, but I do beguile
The thing I am by seeming otherwise.
Come, how wouldst thou praise me?

IAGO
I am about it, but indeed my invention 1
Comes from my pate as birdlime does from frieze, It plucks out
brains and all; but my muse labours
And thus she is delivered:
If she be fair and wise, fairness and wit,
The one’s for use, the other useth it. 1

DESDEMONA
Well praised. How if she be black and witty?

IAGO
If she be black, and thereto have a wit,
She’ll find a white that shall her blackness fit.

DESDEMONA
Worse and worse.

EMILIA
How if fair and foolish? 1

IAGO
She never yet was foolish that was fair,
For even her folly helped her to an heir.
DESDEMONA These are old fond paradoxes to make fools laugh
i’th’ alehouse. What miserable praise hast thou for her 1
that’s foul and foolish?

IAGO
There’s none so foul, and foolish thereunto,
But does foul pranks which fair and wise ones do.
DESDEMONA O heavy ignorance, thou praisest the worst best.
But what praise couldst thou bestow on a deserving 1
woman indeed? One that in the authority of her merit did
justly put on the vouch of very malice itself?

IAGO
She that was ever fair and never proud,
Had tongue at will, and yet was never loud,
Never lacked gold, and yet went never gay, Fled from her 1
wish, and yet said ‘now I may’, She that, being angered, her
revenge being nigh,
Bade her wrong stay, and her displeasure fly,
She that in wisdom never was so frail
To change the cod’s head for the salmon’s tail, 1
She that could think, and ne’er disclose her mind,
See suitors following, and not look behind,
She was a wight, if ever such wights were –

DESDEMONA
To do what?

IAGO
To suckle fools, and chronicle small beer. 1
DESDEMONA O, most lame and impotent conclusion! Do not learn
of him, Emilia, though he be thy husband. How say you,
Cassio, is he not a most profane and liberal counsellor?
CASSIO He speaks home, madam, you may relish him more 1
in the soldier than in the scholar.
IAGO [aside] He takes her by the palm; ay, well said, whisper.
With as little a web as this will I ensnare as great a fly as
Cassio. Ay, smile upon her, do: I will gyve thee in thine 1
own courtesies. You say true, ’tis so indeed. If such tricks as
these strip you out of your lieutenantry, it had been better
you had not kissed your three fingers so oft, which now
again you are most apt to play the sir in. Very good, well
kissed, and excellent courtesy: ’tis so indeed! Yet again, 1
your fingers to your lips? would they were clyster-pipes for
your sake! (Trumpets within) The Moor! I know his
trumpet!
CASSIO ’Tis truly so.

DESDEMONA
Let’s meet him and receive him.

Enter OTHELLO and Attendants.

CASSIO Lo, where he comes!

OTHELLO
O my fair warrior!
DESDEMONA My dear Othello! 1

OTHELLO
It gives me wonder great as my content
To see you here before me! O my soul’s joy,
If after every tempest come such calms
May the winds blow till they have wakened death, And let 1
the labouring bark climb hills of seas,
Olympus-high, and duck again as low
As hell’s from heaven. If it were now to die ’Twere now to be
most happy, for I fear
My soul hath her content so absolute
That not another comfort like to this Succeeds in unknown 1
fate.
DESDEMONA The heavens forbid
But that our loves and comforts should increase
Even as our days do grow.
OTHELLO Amen to that, sweet powers!
I cannot speak enough of this content,
It stops me here, it is too much of joy. 1
And this, and this the greatest discords be They kiss.
That e’er our hearts shall make.
IAGO [aside]
O, you are well tuned now: but I’ll set down
The pegs that make this music, as honest
As I am.
OTHELLO Come, let us to the castle. 2
News, friends, our wars are done, the Turks are drowned.
How does my old acquaintance of this isle?
Honey, you shall be well desired in Cyprus,
I have found great love amongst them. O my sweet,
I prattle out of fashion, and I dote In mine own comforts. I 2
prithee, good Iago,
Go to the bay and disembark my coffers.
Bring thou the master to the citadel,
He is a good one, and his worthiness
Does challenge much respect. Come, Desdemona; Once 2
more, well met at Cyprus.
 [Exeunt all but Iago and Roderigo.]

IAGO Do thou meet me presently at the harbour. Come hither: if

thou be’st valiant – as, they say, base men being in love
have then a nobility in their natures, more than is 2
native to them – list me. The lieutenant tonight watches on
the court of guard. First I must tell thee this: Desdemona is
directly in love with him.
RODERIGO With him? why, ’tis not possible.
IAGO Lay thy finger thus, and let thy soul be instructed. 2
Mark me with what violence she first loved the Moor, but
for bragging and telling her fantastical lies – and will she
love him still for prating? let not thy discreet heart think it.
Her eye must be fed, and what delight shall she have to
look on the devil? When the blood is made dull with the 2
act of sport, there should be, again to inflame it, and to give
satiety a fresh appetite, loveliness in favour, sympathy in
years, manners and beauties, all which the Moor is
defective in. Now for want of these required conveniences,
her delicate tenderness will find itself abused, begin to 2
heave the gorge, disrelish and abhor the Moor – very nature
will instruct her in it and compel her to some second
choice. Now sir, this granted – as it is a most pregnant and
unforced position – who stands so eminent in the 2
degree of this fortune as Cassio does? a knave very voluble,
no farther conscionable than in putting on the mere form of
civil and humane seeming, for the better compassing of his
salt and most hidden loose affection. Why none, why none:
a slipper and subtle knave, a finder out of occasions, 2
that has an eye, can stamp and counterfeit advantages,
though true advantage never present itself – a devilish
knave; besides, the knave is handsome, young, and hath all
those requisites in him that folly and green minds look 2
after. A pestilent complete knave, and the woman hath
found him already.
RODERIGO I cannot believe that in her, she’s full of most blest
condition.
IAGO Blest fig’s-end! The wine she drinks is made of grapes. 2
If she had been blest she would never have loved the Moor.
Blest pudding! Didst thou not see her paddle with the palm
of his hand? Didst not mark that?
RODERIGO Yes, that I did, but that was but courtesy.
IAGO Lechery, by this hand: an index and obscure prologue 2
to the history of lust and foul thoughts. They met so near
with their lips that their breaths embraced together.
Villainous thoughts, Roderigo: when these mutualities so
marshal the way, hard at hand comes the master and 2
main exercise, th’in-corporate conclusion. Pish! But, sir, be
you ruled by me. I have brought you from Venice: watch you
tonight. For the command, I’ll lay’t upon you. Cassio knows
you not, I’ll not be far from you, do you find some 2
occasion to anger Cassio, either by speaking too loud or
tainting his discipline, or from what other cause you please
which the time shall more favourably minister.
RODERIGO Well.
IAGO Sir, he’s rash and very sudden in choler, and haply 2
with his truncheon may strike at you: provoke him that he
may, for even out of that will I cause these of Cyprus to
mutiny, whose qualification shall come into no true trust
again but by the displanting of Cassio. So shall you have 2
a shorter journey to your desires, by the means I shall then
have to prefer them, and the impediment most profitably
removed, without the which there were no expectation of
our prosperity.
RODERIGO I will do this, if you can bring it to any 2
opportunity.
IAGO I warrant thee. Meet me by and by at the citadel: I must
fetch his necessaries ashore. Farewell.
RODERIGO Adieu. Exit.

IAGO
That Cassio loves her, I do well believe it,
That she loves him, ’tis apt and of great credit. 2
The Moor, howbeit that I endure him not, Is of a constant,
loving, noble nature,
And I dare think he’ll prove to Desdemona
A most dear husband. Now I do love her too,
Not out of absolute lust – though peradventure 2
I stand accountant for as great a sin – But partly led to diet my
revenge,
For that I do suspect the lusty Moor Hath leaped into my seat,
the thought whereof Doth like a poisonous mineral 2
gnaw my inwards …
And nothing can or shall content my soul
Till I am evened with him, wife for wife …
Or, failing so, yet that I put the Moor
At least into a jealousy so strong
That judgement cannot cure; which thing to do, If this poor 3
trash of Venice, whom I trash
For his quick hunting, stand the putting on, I’ll have our
Michael Cassio on the hip, Abuse him to the Moor in the
rank garb – For I fear Cassio with my night-cap too – 3
Make the Moor thank me, love me, and reward me
For making him egregiously an ass,
And practising upon his peace and quiet
Even to madness. ’Tis here, but yet confused: Knavery’s 3
plain face is never seen, till used. Exit.

[2.2] Enter Othello’s Herald, with a proclamation.

HERALD [Reads.] It is Othello’s pleasure, our noble and valiant

general, that, upon certain tidings now arrived, importing
the mere perdition of the Turkish fleet, every man put
himself into triumph: some to dance, some to make
bonfires, each man to what sport and revels his addiction
leads him. For besides these beneficial news, it is the
celebration of his nuptial. – So much was his pleasure
 should be proclaimed. All offices are open, and there is full
liberty of feasting from this present hour of five till the
bell have told eleven. Heaven bless the isle of Cyprus and
our noble general Othello! Exit.

[2.3] Enter OTHELLO, CASSIO and DESDEMONA.

OTHELLO
Good Michael, look you to the guard tonight.
Let’s teach ourselves that honourable stop
Not to outsport discretion.

CASSIO
Iago hath direction what to do,
But notwithstanding with my personal eye
Will I look to’t.
OTHELLO Iago is most honest.
Michael, good night. Tomorrow with your earliest
Let me have speech with you. Come, my dear love,
The purchase made, the fruits are to ensue: That profit’s
yet to come ’tween me and you.
Good-night. Exeunt Othello and Desdemona.

Enter IAGO.

CASSIO Welcome, Iago, we must to the watch.

IAGO Not this hour, lieutenant, ’tis not yet ten o’th’ clock. Our
general cast us thus early for the love of his Desdemona
– whom let us not therefore blame; he hath not yet made
wanton the night with her, and she is sport for Jove.
CASSIO She’s a most exquisite lady.
IAGO And I’ll warrant her full of game.
CASSIO Indeed she’s a most fresh and delicate creature.
IAGO What an eye she has! methinks it sounds a parley to
provocation.
CASSIO An inviting eye; and yet methinks right modest.
IAGO And when she speaks is it not an alarum to love?
CASSIO She is indeed perfection.
IAGO Well: happiness to their sheets! Come, lieutenant, I have a
stoup of wine, and here without are a brace of Cyprus
gallants that would fain have a measure to the health of
black Othello.
CASSIO Not tonight, good Iago, I have very poor and
unhappy brains for drinking. I could well wish courtesy
would invent some other custom of entertainment.
IAGO O, they are our friends. But one cup, I’ll drink for you.
CASSIO I have drunk but one cup tonight, and that was craftily
qualified too, and behold what innovation it makes here! I
am unfortunate in the infirmity, and dare not task my
weakness with any more.
IAGO What, man, ’tis a night of revels, the gallants desire it.
CASSIO Where are they?
IAGO Here, at the door, I pray you call them in.
CASSIO I’ll do’t, but it dislikes me. Exit.

IAGO
If I can fasten but one cup upon him, With that which he
hath drunk tonight already
He’ll be as full of quarrel and offence
As my young mistress’ dog. Now my sick fool, Roderigo, Whom
love hath turned almost the wrong side out,
To Desdemona hath tonight caroused
Potations pottle-deep, and he’s to watch.
Three else of Cyprus, noble swelling spirits That hold their
honours in a wary distance,
The very elements of this warlike isle, Have I tonight
flustered with flowing cups, And the watch too. Now
 ’mongst this flock of drunkards Am I to put our Cassio in
some action That may offend the isle.

Enter CASSIO, MONTANO and Gentlemen.

But here they come.

If consequence do but approve my dream
My boat sails freely, both with wind and stream.
CASSIO ’Fore God, they have given me a rouse already.
MONTANO Good faith, a little one, not past a pint, as I am a
soldier.
IAGO Some wine, ho!
[Sings.]
And let me the cannikin clink, clink, And let me the
cannikin clink.
A soldier’s a man,
O, man’s life’s but a span,
Why then let a soldier drink!
Some wine, boys!
CASSIO ’Fore God, an excellent song!
IAGO I learned it in England, where indeed they are most
potent in potting. Your Dane, your German, and your swag-
bellied Hollander – drink, ho! – are nothing to your
English.
CASSIO Is your Englishman so exquisite in his drinking?
IAGO Why, he drinks you with facility your Dane dead drunk; he
sweats not to overthrow your Almain; he gives your
Hollander a vomit ere the next pottle can be filled.
CASSIO To the health of our general!
MONTANO I am for it, lieutenant, and I’ll do you justice.
IAGO O sweet England!
[Sings.]
King Stephen was and-a worthy peer, His breeches cost
him but a crown,
He held them sixpence all too dear,
With that he called the tailor lown.
He was a wight of high renown
And thou art but of low degree, ’Tis pride that pulls the
country down,
Then take thine auld cloak about thee.
Some wine, ho!
CASSIO ’Fore God, this is a more exquisite song than the
other!
IAGO Will you hear’t again?
CASSIO No, for I hold him to be unworthy of his place that does
… those things. Well, God’s above all, and there be souls
must be saved, and there be souls must not be saved. 1
IAGO It’s true, good lieutenant.
CASSIO For mine own part, no offence to the general nor any
man of quality, I hope to be saved.
IAGO And so do I too, lieutenant. 1
CASSIO Ay, but, by your leave, not before me. The lieutenant is
to be saved before the ancient. Let’s have no more of this,
let’s to our affairs. God forgive us our sins! Gentlemen, let’s
look to our business. Do not think, gentlemen, I am drunk:
this is my ancient, this is my right hand, and this is my 1
left. I am not drunk now: I can stand well enough, and I
speak well enough.
GENTLEMAN Excellent well.
CASSIO Why, very well then; you must not think then that I am
drunk. Exit.

MONTANO
To th’ platform, masters, come, let’s set the watch. 1

IAGO
You see this fellow that is gone before,
He is a soldier fit to stand by Caesar
And give direction. And do but see his vice,
’Tis to his virtue a just equinox, 1
The one as long as th’other. ’Tis pity of him: I fear the trust
Othello puts him in
On some odd time of his infirmity
Will shake this island.
MONTANO But is he often thus?

IAGO
’Tis evermore the prologue to his sleep: He’ll watch the 1
horologe a double set
If drink rock not his cradle.
MONTANO It were well
The general were put in mind of it.
Perhaps he sees it not, or his good nature
Prizes the virtue that appears in Cassio And looks not on 1
his evils: is not this true?

Enter RODERIGO.
IAGO [aside]
How now, Roderigo?
I pray you, after the lieutenant, go! Exit Roderigo.

MONTANO
And ’tis great pity that the noble Moor
Should hazard such a place as his own second 1
With one of an ingraft infirmity.
It were an honest action to say so
To the Moor.
IAGO Not I, for this fair island.
I do love Cassio well, and would do much
 A cry within: ‘Help! help!’
To cure him of this evil. But hark, what noise? 1

Enter CASSIO pursuing RODERIGO.

CASSIO Zounds, you rogue! you rascal!

MONTANO What’s the matter, lieutenant?
CASSIO A knave teach me my duty? I’ll beat the knave into a
twiggen bottle!
RODERIGO Beat me? 1
CASSIO Dost thou prate, rogue?
MONTANO Nay, good lieutenant! I pray you, sir, hold your hand.
CASSIO Let me go, sir, or I’ll knock you o’er the mazzard. 1
MONTANO Come, come, you’re drunk.
CASSIO Drunk? They fight.
IAGO [aside to Roderigo]
Away, I say, go out and cry a mutiny. [Exit Roderigo.]
Nay, good lieutenant! God’s will, gentlemen –
Help ho! Lieutenant! sir – Montano – sir – Help, masters, 1
here’s a goodly watch indeed. A bell rings.
Who’s that which rings the bell? Diablo, ho!
The town will rise, God’s will, lieutenant, hold, You will be
shamed for ever!

Enter OTHELLO and Attendants.

OTHELLO
What is the matter here?
MONTANO Zounds, I bleed still; I am hurt to th’ death: he 1
dies! [Lunges at Cassio.]
OTHELLO Hold, for your lives!
IAGO
Hold, ho! Lieutenant! sir – Montano – gentlemen –
Have you forgot all sense of place and duty?
Hold, the general speaks to you: hold, for shame!

OTHELLO
Why, how now, ho? From whence ariseth this? 1
Are we turned Turks? and to ourselves do that
Which heaven hath forbid the Ottomites?
For Christian shame, put by this barbarous brawl; He that stirs
next, to carve for his own rage, Holds his soul light: he 1
dies upon his motion.
Silence that dreadful bell, it frights the isle From her
propriety. What is the matter, masters?
Honest Iago, that look’st dead with grieving,
Speak: who began this? on thy love I charge thee.

IAGO
I do not know, friends all, but now, even now, In quarter 1
and in terms like bride and groom Divesting them for bed;
and then, but now,
As if some planet had unwitted men,
Swords out, and tilting one at other’s breasts In opposition 1
bloody. I cannot speak
Any beginning to this peevish odds, And would in action
glorious I had lost
Those legs that brought me to a part of it.

OTHELLO
How comes it, Michael, you are thus forgot?
CASSIO
I pray you pardon me, I cannot speak. 1

OTHELLO
Worthy Montano, you were wont to be civil:
The gravity and stillness of your youth
The world hath noted, and your name is great
In mouths of wisest censure. What’s the matter That you 1
unlace your reputation thus And spend your rich opinion for
the name Of a night-brawler? Give me answer to it.

MONTANO
Worthy Othello, I am hurt to danger:
Your officer Iago can inform you,
While I spare speech, which something now offends me, Of 1
all that I do know; nor know I aught
By me that’s said or done amiss this night
Unless self-charity be sometimes a vice,
And to defend ourselves it be a sin
When violence assails us.
OTHELLO Now, by heaven, My blood begins my safer guides 2
to rule
And passion, having my best judgement collied, Assays to lead
the way. Zounds, if I once stir, Or do but lift this arm, the
best of you
Shall sink in my rebuke. Give me to know How this foul 2
rout began, who set it on,
And he that is approved in this offence,
Though he had twinned with me, both at a birth, Shall lose me.
What, in a town of war
Yet wild, the people’s hearts brimful of fear, To manage 2
private and domestic quarrel?
In night, and on the court and guard of safety?
’Tis monstrous. Iago, who began’t?

MONTANO
If partially affined or leagued in office
Thou dost deliver more or less than truth 2
Thou art no soldier.
IAGO Touch me not so near.
I had rather have this tongue cut from my mouth
Than it should do offence to Michael Cassio,
Yet I persuade myself to speak the truth
Shall nothing wrong him. Thus it is, general: Montano and 2
myself being in speech,
There comes a fellow crying out for help
And Cassio following him with determined sword
To execute upon him. Sir, this gentleman
Steps in to Cassio and entreats his pause, Myself the 2
crying fellow did pursue
Lest by his clamour, as it so fell out,
The town might fall in fright. He, swift of foot,
Outran my purpose, and I returned the rather
For that I heard the clink and fall of swords And Cassio 2
high in oath, which till tonight
I ne’er might say before. When I came back,
For this was brief, I found them close together
At blow and thrust, even as again they were
When you yourself did part them. 2
More of this matter cannot I report.
But men are men, the best sometimes forget;
Though Cassio did some little wrong to him,
As men in rage strike those that wish them best, Yet surely 2
Cassio, I believe, received
From him that fled some strange indignity
Which patience could not pass.
OTHELLOI know, Iago,
Thy honesty and love doth mince this matter, Making it light to
Cassio. Cassio, I love thee,
Enter DESDEMONA, attended.

But never more be officer of mine. 2

Look if my gentle love be not raised up!
I’ll make thee an example.

DESDEMONA
What is the matter, dear?
OTHELLO All’s well now, sweeting, Come away to bed. – Sir, for
your hurts
Myself will be your surgeon. Lead him off. 2
[Montano is led off.]
Iago, look with care about the town
And silence those whom this vile brawl distracted.
Come, Desdemona: ’tis the soldier’s life
To have their balmy slumbers waked with strife.
Exeunt [all but Iago and Cassio.]
IAGO What, are you hurt, lieutenant? 2
CASSIO Ay, past all surgery.
IAGO Marry, God forbid!
CASSIO Reputation, reputation, reputation! O, I have lost my
reputation, I have lost the immortal part of myself – and 2
what remains is bestial. My reputation, Iago, my reputation!
IAGO As I am an honest man I thought you had received some
bodily wound; there is more of sense in that than in
reputation. Reputation is an idle and most false 2
imposition, oft got without merit and lost without
deserving. You have lost no reputation at all, unless you
repute yourself such a loser. What, man, there are ways to
recover the general again. You are but now cast in his
mood, a punishment more in policy than in malice, even 2
 so as one would beat his offenceless dog to affright an
imperious lion. Sue to him again, and he’s yours.
CASSIO I will rather sue to be despised, than to deceive so good
a commander with so slight, so drunken, and so 2
indiscreet an officer. Drunk? and speak parrot? and
squabble? swagger? swear? and discourse fustian with
one’s own shadow? O thou invisible spirit of wine, if thou
hast no name to be known by, let us call thee devil!
IAGO What was he that you followed with your sword? 2
What had he done to you?
CASSIO I know not.
IAGO Is’t possible?
CASSIO I remember a mass of things, but nothing dis-tinctly; 2
a quarrel, but nothing wherefore. O God, that men should
put an enemy in their mouths, to steal away their brains!
that we should with joy, pleasance, revel and applause,
transform ourselves into beasts!
IAGO Why, but you are now well enough: how came you 2
thus recovered?
CASSIO It hath pleased the devil drunkenness to give place to
the devil wrath; one unperfectness shows me another, to
make me frankly despise myself.
IAGO Come, you are too severe a moraler. As the time, the 2
place and the condition of this country stands, I could
heartily wish this had not befallen; but since it is as it is,
mend it for your own good.
CASSIO I will ask him for my place again, he shall tell me I am a
drunkard: had I as many mouths as Hydra, such an 3
answer would stop them all. To be now a sensible man, by
and by a fool, and presently a beast! O strange! – Every
inordinate cup is unblest, and the ingredience is a devil.
IAGO Come, come, good wine is a good familiar creature, if 3
it be well used: exclaim no more against it. And, good
lieutenant, I think you think I love you.
CASSIO I have well approved it, sir. I drunk?
IAGO You, or any man living, may be drunk at some time, man.
I’ll tell you what you shall do. Our general’s wife is now the
general. I may say so in this respect, for that he hath 3
devoted and given up himself to the contemplation, mark
and denotement of her parts and graces. Confess yourself
freely to her, importune her help to put you in your place
again. She is of so free, so kind, so apt, so blest a 3
disposition that she holds it a vice in her goodness not to do
more than she is requested. This broken joint between you
and her husband entreat her to splinter – and my fortunes
against any lay worth naming, this crack of your love 3
shall grow stronger than it was before.
CASSIO You advise me well.
IAGO I protest, in the sincerity of love and honest kindness.
CASSIO I think it freely, and betimes in the morning I will 3
beseech the virtuous Desdemona to undertake for me. I am
desperate of my fortunes if they check me here.
IAGO You are in the right. Good-night, lieutenant, I must to 3
the watch.
CASSIO Good-night, honest Iago. Exit.

IAGO
And what’s he then that says I play the villain?
When this advice is free I give and honest,
Probal to thinking and indeed the course
To win the Moor again? For ’tis most easy Th’inclining 3
Desdemona to subdue
In any honest suit. She’s framed as fruitful
As the free elements: and then for her
To win the Moor, were’t to renounce his baptism, All seals and
symbols of redeemed sin, His soul is so enfettered to 3
her love
That she may make, unmake, do what she list,
Even as her appetite shall play the god
With his weak function. How am I then a villain To counsel
Cassio to this parallel course
Directly to his good? Divinity of hell! 3
When devils will the blackest sins put on
They do suggest at first with heavenly shows
As I do now. For whiles this honest fool
Plies Desdemona to repair his fortune,
And she for him pleads strongly to the Moor, 3
I’ll pour this pestilence into his ear:
That she repeals him for her body’s lust.
And by how much she strives to do him good
She shall undo her credit with the Moor—
So will I turn her virtue into pitch 3
And out of her own goodness make the net
That shall enmesh them all.

Enter RODERIGO.

How now, Roderigo?

RODERIGO I do follow here in the chase not like a hound that
hunts, but one that fills up the cry. My money is almost 3
spent, I have been tonight exceedingly well cudgelled, and I
think the issue will be I shall have so much experience for
my pains: and so, with no money at all, and a little more
wit, return again to Venice.

IAGO
How poor are they that have not patience! 3
What wound did ever heal but by degrees?
Thou know’st we work by wit and not by witchcraft, And wit
depends on dilatory time.
Does’t not go well? Cassio hath beaten thee
And thou by that small hurt hast cashiered Cassio. 3
Though other things grow fair against the sun
Yet fruits that blossom first will first be ripe;
Content thyself a while. By the mass, ’tis morning: Pleasure
and action make the hours seem short.
Retire thee, go where thou art billeted, Away, I say, thou 3
shalt know more hereafter:
Nay, get thee gone. Exit Roderigo.
Two things are to be done:
My wife must move for Cassio to her mistress, I’ll set her on.
Myself the while to draw the Moor apart And bring him 3
jump when he may Cassio find
Soliciting his wife: ay, that’s the way!
Dull not device by coldness and delay! Exit.
[3.1] Enter CASSIO and some Musicians.
CASSIO
Masters, play here, I will content your pains; Something that’s
brief, and bid ‘Good morrow, general.’

They play. Enter CLOWN.

CLOWN Why, masters, have your instruments been in Naples,

that they speak i’th’ nose thus?
1 MUSICIAN How, sir? how?
CLOWN Are these, I pray you, wind instruments?
1 MUSICIAN Ay marry are they, sir.
CLOWN O, thereby hangs a tail.
1 MUSICIAN Whereby hangs a tail, sir?
CLOWN Marry, sir, by many a wind instrument that I know.
But, masters, here’s money for you, and the general so likes
your music that he desires you, for love’s sake, to make no
more noise with it.
1 MUSICIAN Well, sir, we will not.
CLOWN If you have any music that may not be heard, to’t
again. But, as they say, to hear music the general does not
greatly care.
1 MUSICIAN We have none such, sir.
CLOWN Then put up your pipes in your bag, for I’ll away. Go,
vanish into air, away! Exeunt Musicians.
CASSIO Dost thou hear, mine honest friend?
CLOWN No, I hear not your honest friend, I hear you.
CASSIO Prithee keep up thy quillets; there’s a poor piece of gold
for thee – if the gentlewoman that attends the general’s
wife be stirring, tell her there’s one Cassio entreats her a
little favour of speech. Wilt thou do this?
CLOWN She is stirring, sir; if she will stir hither, I shall seem to
notify unto her.
Enter IAGO.
CASSIO
Do, good my friend. (Exit Clown.) In happy time, Iago.
IAGO
You have not been a-bed then?
CASSIO
Why no, the day had broke before we parted.
I have made bold, Iago, to send in To your wife: my suit to her
is that she will To virtuous Desdemona procure me
Some access.
IAGO I’ll send her to you presently, And I’ll devise a mean to
draw the Moor Out of the way, that your converse and
business May be more free.
CASSIO
I humbly thank you for’t. Exit [Iago.]
I never knew
A Florentine more kind and honest.

Enter EMILIA.
EMILIA
Good morrow, good lieutenant. I am sorry
For your displeasure, but all will sure be well.
The general and his wife are talking of it,
And she speaks for you stoutly; the Moor replies That he
you hurt is of great fame in Cyprus And great affinity,
And that in wholesome wisdom he might not but
Refuse you; but he protests he loves you And needs no
other suitor but his likings
To take the safest occasion by the front
To bring you in again.
CASSIO Yet I beseech you,
If you think fit, or that it may be done,
Give me advantage of some brief discourse
With Desdemon alone.
EMILIA Pray you come in, I will bestow you where you shall
have time To speak your bosom freely.
CASSIO I am much bound to you.
Exeunt.

[3.2] Enter OTHELLO, IAGO and Gentlemen.

OTHELLO
These letters give, Iago, to the pilot,
And by him do my duties to the Senate;
That done, I will be walking on the works,
Repair there to me.
IAGO Well, my good lord, I’ll do’t.
OTHELLO
This fortification, gentlemen, shall we see’t?
1 GENTLEMAN
We’ll wait upon your lordship. Exeunt.

[3.3] Enter DESDEMONA, CASSIO and EMILIA.

DESDEMONA
Be thou assured, good Cassio, I will do
All my abilities in thy behalf.
EMILIA
Good madam, do, I warrant it grieves my husband As if the
cause were his.
DESDEMONA
O, that’s an honest fellow. Do not doubt, Cassio,
But I will have my lord and you again
As friendly as you were.
CASSIO Bounteous madam, Whatever shall become of Michael
Cassio,
He’s never anything but your true servant.
DESDEMONA
I know’t, I thank you. You do love my lord,
You have known him long, and be you well assured
He shall in strangeness stand no farther off Than in a politic
distance.
CASSIO Ay, but, lady,
That policy may either last so long,
Or feed upon such nice and waterish diet,
Or breed itself so out of circumstance,
That, I being absent and my place supplied, My general will
forget my love and service.
DESDEMONA
Do not doubt that: before Emilia here I give thee warrant
of thy place. Assure thee, If I do vow a friendship I’ll
perform it To the last article. My lord shall never rest, I’ll
watch him tame and talk him out of patience, His bed shall
seem a school, his board a shrift, I’ll intermingle
everything he does With Cassio’s suit: therefore be merry,
Cassio, For thy solicitor shall rather die Than give thy cause
away.

Enter OTHELLO and IAGO.

EMILIA
Madam, here comes my lord.
CASSIO
Madam, I’ll take my leave.
DESDEMONA
Why, stay and hear me speak.
CASSIO
Madam, not now; I am very ill at ease,
Unfit for mine own purposes.
DESDEMONA
Well, do your discretion. Exit Cassio.
IAGO Ha, I like not that.
OTHELLO
What dost thou say?
IAGO
Nothing, my lord; or if – I know not what.
OTHELLO
Was not that Cassio parted from my wife?
IAGO
Cassio, my lord? no, sure, I cannot think it
That he would steal away so guilty-like
Seeing you coming.
OTHELLO I do believe ’twas he.
DESDEMONA
How now, my lord?
I have been talking with a suitor here,
A man that languishes in your displeasure.
OTHELLO
Who is’t you mean?
DESDEMONA
Why, your lieutenant, Cassio. Good my lord, If I have any
grace or power to move you His present reconciliation take:
For if he be not one that truly loves you, That errs in
ignorance and not in cunning, I have no judgement in
an honest face.
I prithee, call him back.
OTHELLO Went he hence now?
DESDEMONA
Yes, faith, so humbled
That he hath left part of his grief with me
To suffer with him. Good love, call him back.
OTHELLO
Not now, sweet Desdemon, some other time.
DESDEMONA
But shall’t be shortly?
OTHELLO The sooner, sweet, for you.
DESDEMONA
Shall’t be tonight, at supper?
OTHELLO No, not tonight.
DESDEMONA
Tomorrow dinner then?
OTHELLO I shall not dine at home.
I meet the captains at the citadel.
DESDEMONA
Why then, tomorrow night, or Tuesday morn;
On Tuesday, noon or night; on Wednesday morn!
I prithee name the time, but let it not
Exceed three days: i’faith, he’s penitent,
And yet his trespass, in our common reason
– Save that they say the wars must make examples Out of
their best – is not, almost, a fault T’incur a private check.
When shall he come?
Tell me, Othello. I wonder in my soul
What you would ask me that I should deny
Or stand so mamm’ring on? What, Michael Cassio That
came a-wooing with you? and so many a time When I have
spoke of you dispraisingly
Hath ta’en your part, to have so much to do
To bring him in? By’r lady, I could do much!— OTHELLO
Prithee, no more. Let him come when he will,
I will deny thee nothing.
DESDEMONA Why, this is not a boon, ’Tis as I should entreat you
wear your gloves, Or feed on nourishing dishes, or keep you
warm,
Or sue to you to do a peculiar profit
To your own person. Nay, when I have a suit
Wherein I mean to touch your love indeed
It shall be full of poise and difficult weight
And fearful to be granted.
OTHELLO I will deny thee nothing.
Whereon I do beseech thee, grant me this,
To leave me but a little to myself.
DESDEMONA
Shall I deny you? No, farewell, my lord.
OTHELLO
Farewell, my Desdemona, I’ll come to thee straight.
DESDEMONA
Emilia, come. – Be as your fancies teach you: Whate’er you
be, I am obedient.
Exeunt Desdemona and Emilia.
OTHELLO
Excellent wretch! perdition catch my soul But I do love
thee! and when I love thee not Chaos is come again.
IAGO
My noble lord –
OTHELLO What dost thou say, Iago?
IAGO
Did Michael Cassio, when you wooed my lady,
Know of your love?
OTHELLO He did, from first to last.
Why dost thou ask?
IAGO
But for a satisfaction of my thought,
No further harm.
OTHELLO Why of thy thought, Iago?
IAGO
I did not think he had been acquainted with her.
OTHELLO
O yes, and went between us very oft. 1
IAGO
Indeed?
OTHELLO
Indeed? Ay, indeed. Discern’st thou aught in that?
Is he not honest?
IAGO
Honest, my lord?
OTHELLO
Honest? Ay, honest. 1
IAGO
My lord, for aught I know.
OTHELLO
What dost thou think?
IAGO
Think, my lord?
OTHELLO
Think, my lord! By heaven, thou echo’st me
As if there were some monster in thy thought Too hideous 1
to be shown. Thou dost mean something, I heard thee say
even now thou lik’st not that When Cassio left my wife:
what didst not like?
And when I told thee he was of my counsel
In my whole course of wooing, thou criedst ‘Indeed?’ 1
And didst contract and purse thy brow together As if thou then
hadst shut up in thy brain Some horrible conceit. If thou
dost love me Show me thy thought.
IAGO My lord, you know I love you.
OTHELLO
I think thou dost. 1
And for I know thou’rt full of love and honesty And weigh’st
thy words before thou giv’st them breath, Therefore these
stops of thine fright me the more.
For such things in a false disloyal knave
Are tricks of custom, but in a man that’s just They’re close 1
delations, working from the heart, That passion cannot rule.
IAGO For Michael Cassio, I dare be sworn, I think, that he is
honest.
OTHELLO
I think so too.
IAGO Men should be what they seem, Or those that be not, 1
would they might seem none.
OTHELLO
Certain, men should be what they seem.
IAGO
Why then I think Cassio’s an honest man.
OTHELLO
Nay, yet there’s more in this:
I prithee speak to me, as to thy thinkings, As thou dost 1
ruminate, and give thy worst of thoughts The worst of
words.
IAGO Good my lord, pardon me; Though I am bound to every act
of duty I am not bound to that all slaves are free to – Utter
my thoughts? Why, say they are vile and false?
As where’s that palace whereinto foul things Sometimes 1
intrude not? Who has a breast so pure But some uncleanly
apprehensions
Keep leets and law-days and in session sit With meditations
lawful?
OTHELLO
Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago, If thou but 1
think’st him wronged and mak’st his ear
A stranger to thy thoughts.
IAGO I do beseech you,
Though I perchance am vicious in my guess – As I confess it is
my nature’s plague
To spy into abuses, and oft my jealousy 1
Shapes faults that are not – that your wisdom From one that so
imperfectly conceits
Would take no notice, nor build yourself a trouble
Out of his scattering and unsure observance: It were not 1
for your quiet nor your good Nor for my manhood, honesty
and wisdom
To let you know my thoughts.
OTHELLO Zounds! What dost thou mean?
IAGO
Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, Is the immediate
jewel of their souls: Who steals my purse steals trash – 1
’tis something-nothing, ’Twas mine, ’tis his, and has been
slave to thousands – But he that filches from me my good
name Robs me of that which not enriches him And makes
me poor indeed.
OTHELLO By heaven, I’ll know thy thoughts!
IAGO
You cannot, if my heart were in your hand, 1
Nor shall not whilst ’tis in my custody.
OTHELLO
Ha!
IAGO O beware, my lord, of jealousy!
It is the green-eyed monster, which doth mock
The meat it feeds on. That cuckold lives in bliss Who, 1
certain of his fate, loves not his wronger, But O, what
damned minutes tells he o’er
Who dotes yet doubts, suspects yet strongly loves!
OTHELLO
O misery!
IAGO
Poor and content is rich, and rich enough, But riches 1
fineless is as poor as winter To him that ever fears he shall
be poor.
Good God, the souls of all my tribe defend From jealousy.
OTHELLO
Why — why is this?
Think’st thou I’d make a life of jealousy To follow still the 1
changes of the moon
With fresh suspicions? No: to be once in doubt
Is once to be resolved. Exchange me for a goat
When I shall turn the business of my soul
To such exsufflicate and blown surmises, Matching thy 1
inference. ’Tis not to make me jealous
To say my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company, Is free of
speech, sings, plays and dances well: Where virtue is, these
are more virtuous.
Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw 1
The smallest fear or doubt of her revolt, For she had eyes and
chose me. No, Iago,
I’ll see before I doubt, when I doubt, prove, And on the proof
there is no more but this: Away at once with love or 1
jealousy!
IAGO
I am glad of this, for now I shall have reason
To show the love and duty that I bear you With franker spirit:
therefore, as I am bound, Receive it from me. I speak not
yet of proof: Look to your wife, observe her well with 2
Cassio.
Wear your eyes thus, not jealous nor secure; I would not have
your free and noble nature Out of self-bounty be abused:
look to’t.
I know our country disposition well –
In Venice they do let God see the pranks 2
They dare not show their husbands; their best conscience
Is not to leave’t undone, but keep’t unknown.
OTHELLO
Dost thou say so?
IAGO
She did deceive her father, marrying you,
And when she seemed to shake, and fear your looks, She 2
loved them most.
OTHELLO And so she did.
IAGO Why, go to then: She that so young could give out such a
seeming To seel her father’s eyes up, close as oak — He
thought ’twas witchcraft. But I am much to blame, I 2
humbly do beseech you of your pardon For too much loving
you.
OTHELLO
I am bound to thee for ever.
IAGO
I see this hath a little dashed your spirits.
OTHELLO
Not a jot, not a jot.
IAGO I’faith, I fear it has.
I hope you will consider what is spoke Comes from my 2
love. But I do see you’re moved;
I am to pray you not to strain my speech To grosser issues nor
to larger reach
Than to suspicion.
OTHELLO
I will not.
IAGO Should you do so, my lord, My speech should fall into 2
such vile success
As my thoughts aimed not at: Cassio’s my worthy friend.
My lord, I see you’re moved.
OTHELLO No, not much moved.
I do not think but Desdemona’s honest.
IAGO
Long live she so; and long live you to think so. 2
OTHELLO
And yet how nature, erring from itself –
IAGO
Ay, there’s the point: as, to be bold with you,
Not to affect many proposed matches Of her own clime,
complexion and degree,
Whereto we see, in all things, nature tends – 2
Foh! one may smell in such a will most rank, Foul
disproportion, thoughts unnatural.
But pardon me, I do not in position
Distinctly speak of her, though I may fear
Her will, recoiling to her better judgement, May fall to 2
match you with her country forms,
And happily repent.
OTHELLO Farewell, farewell.
If more thou dost perceive, let me know more:
Set on thy wife to observe. Leave me, Iago.
IAGO
My lord, I take my leave.
OTHELLO Why did I marry? 2
This honest creature doubtless
Sees and knows more – much more – than he unfolds.
IAGO
My lord, I would I might entreat your honour
To scan this thing no farther. Leave it to time;
Although ’tis fit that Cassio have his place, 2
For sure he fills it up with great ability,
Yet if you please to hold him off a while
You shall by that perceive him, and his means: Note if your
lady strain his entertainment
With any strong or vehement importunity, 2
Much will be seen in that. In the meantime
Let me be thought too busy in my fears
– As worthy cause I have to fear I am –
And hold her free, I do beseech your honour.
OTHELLO
Fear not my government. 2
IAGO
I once more take my leave. Exit.
OTHELLO
This fellow’s of exceeding honesty
And knows all qualities, with a learned spirit, Of human
dealings. If I do prove her haggard, Though that her 2
jesses were my dear heart-strings, I’d whistle her off and let
her down the wind
To prey at fortune. Haply for I am black And have not those
soft parts of conversation
That chamberers have, or for I am declined Into the vale of 2
years – yet that’s not much – She’s gone, I am abused, and
my relief
Must be to loathe her. O curse of marriage
That we can call these delicate creatures ours
And not their appetites! I had rather be a toad
And live upon the vapour of a dungeon 2
Than keep a corner in the thing I love For others’ uses. Yet ’tis
the plague of great ones, Prerogatived are they less than
the base; ’Tis destiny unshunnable, like death – Even 2
then this forked plague is fated to us When we do quicken.

Enter DESDEMONA and EMILIA.

Look where she comes:

If she be false, O then heaven mocks itself, I’ll not believe’t.
DESDEMONA How now, my dear Othello?
Your dinner, and the generous islanders By you invited, do 2
attend your presence.
OTHELLO
I am to blame.
DESDEMONA Why do you speak so faintly?
Are you not well?
OTHELLO
I have a pain upon my forehead, here.
DESDEMONA
Faith, that’s with watching, ’twill away again.
Let me but bind it hard, within this hour 2
It will be well.
OTHELLO Your napkin is too little.
[She drops her handkerchief.]
Let it alone. Come, I’ll go in with you.
DESDEMONA
I am very sorry that you are not well.
Exeunt Othello and Desdemona.
EMILIA
I am glad I have found this napkin,
This was her first remembrance from the Moor. 2
My wayward husband hath a hundred times
Wooed me to steal it, but she so loves the token
– For he conjured her she should ever keep it – That she
reserves it evermore about her
To kiss and talk to. I’ll have the work ta’en out 3
And give’t Iago: what he will do with it
Heaven knows, not I,
I nothing, but to please his fantasy.

Enter IAGO.
IAGO
How now! What do you here alone?
EMILIA
Do not you chide, I have a thing for you – IAGO 3
You have a thing for me? it is a common thing – EMILIA Ha?
IAGO
To have a foolish wife.
EMILIA
O, is that all? What will you give me now
For that same handkerchief?
IAGO What handkerchief? 3
EMILIA
What handkerchief?
Why, that the Moor first gave to Desdemona, That which so
often you did bid me steal.
IAGO
Hast stolen it from her?
EMILIA
No, faith, she let it drop by negligence 3
And, to th’advantage, I being here, took’t up.
Look, here it is.
IAGO A good wench, give it me.
EMILIA
What will you do with’t, that you have been so earnest To
have me filch it?
IAGO [Snatching it] Why, what’s that to you?
EMILIA
If it be not for some purpose of import 3
Give’t me again. Poor lady, she’ll run mad
When she shall lack it.
IAGO Be not acknown on’t, I have use for it. Go, leave me. Exit
Emilia.
I will in Cassio’s lodging lose this napkin
And let him find it. Trifles light as air 3
Are to the jealous confirmations strong
As proofs of holy writ. This may do something.
The Moor already changes with my poison:
Dangerous conceits are in their natures poisons Which at 3
the first are scarce found to distaste
But with a little art upon the blood
Burn like the mines of sulphur.

Enter OTHELLO.

I did say so:

Look where he comes. Not poppy nor mandragora
Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world Shall ever medicine 3
thee to that sweet sleep Which thou owedst yesterday.
OTHELLO Ha! Ha! false to me?
IAGO
Why, how now, general? No more of that.
OTHELLO
Avaunt, be gone, thou hast set me on the rack!
I swear ’tis better to be much abused
Than but to know’t a little. 3
IAGO How now, my lord?
OTHELLO
What sense had I of her stolen hours of lust?
I saw’t not, thought it not, it harmed not me,
I slept the next night well, fed well, was free and merry; I
found not Cassio’s kisses on her lips; He that is robbed, 3
not wanting what is stolen, Let him not know’t, and he’s not
robbed at all.
IAGO
I am sorry to hear this.
OTHELLO
I had been happy if the general camp,
Pioneers and all, had tasted her sweet body, So I had 3
nothing known. O now for ever
Farewell the tranquil mind, farewell content!
Farewell the plumed troops and the big wars That makes
ambition virtue! O farewell,
Farewell the neighing steed and the shrill trump,
The spirit-stirring drum, th’ear-piercing fife, 3
The royal banner, and all quality, Pride, pomp and
circumstance of glorious war!
And, O you mortal engines whose rude throats Th’immortal
Jove’s dread clamours counterfeit, Farewell: Othello’s 3
occupation’s gone.
IAGO
Is’t possible? my lord?
OTHELLO
Villain, be sure thou prove my love a whore, Be sure of it, give
me the ocular proof, [Catching hold of him]
Or by the worth of man’s eternal soul
Thou hadst been better have been born a dog Than answer 3
my waked wrath!
IAGO Is’t come to this?
OTHELLO
Make 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!
IAGO
My noble lord – 3
OTHELLO
If 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 amazed, For nothing canst thou 3
to damnation add Greater than that!
IAGO O grace! O heaven forgive me!
Are you a man? have you a soul, or sense?
God buy you, take mine office. O wretched fool
That lov’st to make thine honesty a vice!
O monstrous world! Take note, take note, O world, 3
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.
OTHELLO
Nay, stay, thou shouldst be honest.
IAGO
I should be wise, for honesty’s a fool And loses that it 3
works for.
OTHELLO By 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 3
visage, is now begrimed and black As mine own face. If
there be cords or knives,
Poison, or fire, or suffocating streams, I’ll not endure it. Would
I were satisfied!
IAGO
I see, sir, you are eaten up with passion.
I do repent me that I put it to you. 3
You would be satisfied?
OTHELLO Would? nay, and I will!
IAGO
And may – but how? how satisfied, my lord?
Would you, the supervisor, grossly gape on?
Behold her topped?
OTHELLO Death and damnation! O!
IAGO
It were a tedious difficulty, I think, To bring them to that 4
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 4
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 4
satisfaction, you may have’t.
OTHELLO
Give me a living reason she’s disloyal.
IAGO
I do not like the office.
But sith I am entered in this cause so far, Pricked to’t by 4
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 4
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 plucked up kisses by the roots 4
That grew upon my lips, lay his leg o’er my thigh, And sigh,
and kiss, and then cry ‘Cursed fate That gave thee to the
Moor!’
OTHELLO O monstrous! monstrous!
IAGO
Nay, this was but his dream.
OTHELLO
But this denoted a foregone conclusion. 4
IAGO
’Tis a shrewd doubt, though it be but a dream, And this
may help to thicken other proofs That do demonstrate
thinly.
OTHELLO
I’ll tear her all to pieces!
IAGO
Nay, yet be wise, yet we see nothing done, She may be 4
honest yet. Tell me but this, Have you not sometimes seen a
handkerchief
Spotted with strawberries, in your wife’s hand?
OTHELLO
I gave her such a one, ’twas my first gift.
IAGO
I know not that, but such a handkerchief, I am sure it was 4
your wife’s, did I today
See Cassio wipe his beard with.
OTHELLO If it be that—
IAGO
If it be that, or any that was hers,
It speaks against her with the other proofs.
OTHELLO
O that the slave had forty thousand lives! 4
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 the hollow hell, Yield up, O 4
love, thy crown and hearted throne To tyrannous hate!
Swell, bosom, with thy fraught, For ’tis of aspics’ tongues!
IAGO Yet be content!
OTHELLO
O blood, blood, blood! Othello kneels.
IAGO
Patience, I say, your mind perhaps may change. 4
OTHELLO
Never, Iago. Like to the Pontic sea
Whose icy current and compulsive course Ne’er keeps retiring
ebb but keeps due on
To the Propontic and the Hellespont:
Even so my bloody thoughts with violent pace 4
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
I here engage my words.
IAGO Do not rise yet. Iago kneels.
Witness, you ever-burning lights above, You elements that 4
clip us round about, Witness that here Iago doth give up
The execution of his wit, hands, heart, To wronged 4
Othello’s service. Let him command And to obey shall be in
me remorse
What bloody business ever.
OTHELLO I 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 4
That Cassio’s not alive.
IAGO My friend is dead, ’Tis done – at your request. But let her
live.
OTHELLO
Damn 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 4
For the fair devil. Now art thou my lieutenant.
IAGO I am your own for ever. Exeunt.

[3.4] Enter DESDEMONA, EMILIA and CLOWN.

DESDEMONA Do you know, sirrah, where lieutenant Cassio lies?

CLOWN I dare not say he lies anywhere.
DESDEMONA Why, man?
CLOWN He’s a soldier, and for me to say a soldier lies, ’tis
stabbing.
DESDEMONA Go to, where lodges he?
CLOWN To tell you where he lodges is to tell you where I lie.
DESDEMONA Can anything be made of this?
CLOWN I know not where he lodges, and for me to devise a
lodging and say he lies here, or he lies there, were to lie in
mine own throat.
DESDEMONA Can you enquire him out and be edified by
report?
CLOWN I will catechize the world for him, that is, make
questions and by them answer.
DESDEMONA Seek him, bid him come hither, tell him I have
moved my lord on his behalf, and hope all will be well.
CLOWN To do this is within the compass of man’s wit, and
therefore I will attempt the doing it. Exit.
DESDEMONA
Where should I lose that handkerchief, Emilia?
EMILIA
I know not, madam.
DESDEMONA
Believe me, I had rather have lost my purse
Full of crusadoes; and but my noble Moor Is true of mind, and
made of no such baseness
As jealous creatures are, it were enough
To put him to ill-thinking.
EMILIA Is he not jealous?
DESDEMONA
Who, he? I think the sun where he was born
Drew all such humours from him.
EMILIA Look where he comes.

Enter OTHELLO.
DESDEMONA
I will not leave him now till Cassio
Be called to him. How is’t with you, my lord?
OTHELLO
Well, my good lady. [aside] O hardness to dissemble!— How do
you, Desdemona?
DESDEMONA Well, my good lord.
OTHELLO
Give me your hand. This hand is moist, my lady.
DESDEMONA
It yet hath felt no age, nor known no sorrow.
OTHELLO
This argues fruitfulness and liberal heart: Hot, hot, and moist.
This hand of yours requires A sequester from liberty,
fasting and prayer, Much castigation, exercise devout, For
here’s a young and sweating devil, here, That commonly
rebels. ’Tis a good hand, A frank one.
DESDEMONA You may indeed say so, For ’twas that hand that
gave away my heart.
OTHELLO
A liberal hand. The hearts of old gave hands
But our new heraldry is hands, not hearts.
DESDEMONA
I cannot speak of this. Come, now, your promise.
OTHELLO
What promise, chuck?
DESDEMONA
I have sent to bid Cassio come speak with you.
OTHELLO
I have a salt and sullen rheum offends me, Lend me thy
handkerchief.
DESDEMONA
Here, my lord.
OTHELLO
That which I gave you.
DESDEMONA
I have it not about me.
OTHELLO
Not?
DESDEMONA
No, faith, my lord.
OTHELLO That’s a fault. That handkerchief
Did an Egyptian to my mother give, She was a charmer and
could almost read
The thoughts of people. She told her, while she kept it
’Twould make her amiable and subdue my father Entirely to
her love; but if she lost it
Or made a gift of it, my father’s eye
Should hold her loathed and his spirits should hunt After
new fancies. She, dying, gave it me And bid me, when my
fate would have me wive, To give it her. I did so, and – take
heed on’t!
Make it a darling, like your precious eye! –
To lose’t or give’t away were such perdition
As nothing else could match.
DESDEMONA Is’t possible?
OTHELLO
’Tis true, there’s magic in the web of it.
A sibyl that had numbered in the world
The sun to course two hundred compasses, In her prophetic
fury sewed the work; The worms were hallowed that did
breed the silk, And it was dyed in mummy, which the skilful
Conserved of maidens’ hearts.
DESDEMONA I’faith, is’t true?
OTHELLO
Most veritable, therefore look to’t well.
DESDEMONA
Then would to God that I had never seen’t!
OTHELLO
Ha! wherefore?
DESDEMONA
Why do you speak so startingly and rash?
OTHELLO
Is’t lost? Is’t gone? Speak, is’t out o’the way?
DESDEMONA
Heaven bless us!
OTHELLO
Say you?
DESDEMONA
It is not lost, but what an if it were?
OTHELLO
How?
DESDEMONA
I say it is not lost.
OTHELLO Fetch’t, let me see’t.
DESDEMONA
Why, so I can, sir; but I will not now.
This is a trick to put me from my suit.
Pray you, let Cassio be received again.
OTHELLO
Fetch me the handkerchief, my mind misgives.
DESDEMONA
Come, come,
You’ll never meet a more sufficient man.
OTHELLO
The handkerchief!
DESDEMONA I pray, talk me of Cassio.
OTHELLO
The handkerchief!
DESDEMONA A man that all his time Hath founded his good
fortunes on your love,
Shared dangers with you –
OTHELLO
The handkerchief!
DESDEMONA I’faith, you are to blame.
OTHELLO
Zounds! Exit.
EMILIA
Is not this man jealous? 1
DESDEMONA
I ne’er saw this before,
Sure there’s some wonder in this handkerchief; I am most
unhappy in the loss of it.
EMILIA
’Tis not a year or two shows us a man.
They are all but stomachs, and we all but food: They eat us 1
hungerly, and when they are full They belch us.

Enter IAGO and CASSIO.

Look you, Cassio and my husband.

IAGO
There is no other way, ’tis she must do’t,
And lo, the happiness! go and importune her.
DESDEMONA
How now, good Cassio, what’s the news with you? 1
CASSIO
Madam, my former suit. I do beseech you
That by your virtuous means I may again
Exist, and be a member of his love Whom I, with all the office
of my heart
Entirely honour. I would not be delayed: If my offence be of 1
such mortal kind
That nor my service past nor present sorrows
Nor purposed merit in futurity
Can ransom me into his love again,
But to know so must be my benefit; So shall I clothe me in 1
a forced content
And shut myself up in some other course
To fortune’s alms.
DESDEMONA Alas, thrice-gentle Cassio, My advocation is not
now in tune;
My lord is not my lord, nor should I know him Were he in 1
favour as in humour altered.
So help me every spirit sanctified
As I have spoken for you all my best
And stood within the blank of his displeasure For my free 1
speech. You must awhile be patient: What I can do I will,
and more I will
Than for myself I dare. Let that suffice you.
IAGO
Is my lord angry?
EMILIA He went hence but now,
And certainly in strange unquietness.
IAGO
Can he be angry? I have seen the cannon When it hath 1
blown his ranks into the air And like the devil, from his very
arm, Puffed his own brother – and can he be angry?
Something of moment then. I will go meet him, There’s 1
matter in’t indeed, if he be angry.
DESDEMONA
I prithee do so. (Exit [Iago.]) Something sure of state Either
from Venice, or some unhatched practice
Made demonstrable here in Cyprus to him,
Hath puddled his clear spirit, and in such cases Men’s 1
natures wrangle with inferior things
Though great ones are their object. ’Tis even so,
For let our finger ache and it indues
Our other healthful members even to that sense Of pain. Nay,
we must think men are not gods
Nor of them look for such observancy 1
As fits the bridal. Beshrew me much, Emilia, I was,
unhandsome warrior as I am, Arraigning his unkindness
with my soul, But now I find I had suborned the witness
And he’s indicted falsely.
EMILIA Pray heaven it be State matters, as you think, and 1
no conception
Nor no jealous toy, concerning you.
DESDEMONA
Alas the day, I never gave him cause.
EMILIA
But jealous souls will not be answered so: They are not 1
ever jealous for the cause,
But jealous for they’re jealous. It is a monster
Begot upon itself, born on itself.
DESDEMONA
Heaven keep that monster from Othello’s mind!
EMILIA
Lady, amen.
DESDEMONA
I will go seek him. Cassio, walk here about, If I do find him 1
fit I’ll move your suit
And seek to effect it to my uttermost.
CASSIO
I humbly thank your ladyship.
Exeunt Desdemona and Emilia.

Enter BIANCA.
BIANCA
Save you, friend Cassio!
CASSIO What make you from home?
How is’t with you, my most fair Bianca? 1
I’faith, sweet love, I was coming to your house.
BIANCA
And I was going to your lodging, Cassio.
What, keep a week away? seven days and nights?
Eight score eight hours? and lovers’ absent hours
More tedious than the dial, eight score times! 1
O weary reckoning!
CASSIO Pardon me, Bianca,
I have this while with leaden thoughts been pressed, But I
shall in a more continuate time Strike off this score of
absence. Sweet Bianca, [Giving her Desdemona’s
handkerchief]
Take me this work out.
BIANCA O Cassio, whence came this? 1
This is some token from a newer friend!
To the felt absence now I feel a cause:
Is’t come to this? Well, well.
CASSIO Go to, woman, Throw your vile guesses in the devil’s
teeth
From whence you have them! You are jealous now 1
That this is from some mistress, some remembrance: No, by
my faith, Bianca.
BIANCA Why, whose is it?
CASSIO
I know not neither, I found it in my chamber.
I like the work well: ere it be demanded,
As like enough it will, I’d have it copied. 1
Take it, and do’t, and leave me for this time.
BIANCA
Leave you? Wherefore?
CASSIO
I do attend here on the general
And think it no addition, nor my wish,
To have him see me womaned.
BIANCA Why, I pray you? 1
CASSIO
Not that I love you not.
BIANCA
But that you do not love me.
I pray you, bring me on the way a little,
And say if I shall see you soon at night.
CASSIO
’Tis but a little way that I can bring you 2
For I attend here, but I’ll see you soon.
BIANCA
’Tis very good: I must be circumstanced. Exeunt.

[4.1] Enter OTHELLO and IAGO.

IAGO
Will you think so?
OTHELLO Think so, Iago?
IAGO What,
To kiss in private?
OTHELLO An unauthorized kiss!
IAGO
Or to be naked with her friend in bed
An hour or more, not meaning any harm?
OTHELLO
Naked in bed, Iago, and not mean harm?
It is hypocrisy against the devil:
They that mean virtuously, and yet do so,
The devil their virtue tempts, and they tempt heaven.
IAGO
So they do nothing, ’tis a venial slip; But if I give my wife a
handkerchief – OTHELLO
What then?
IAGO
Why, then ’tis hers, my lord, and being hers
She may, I think, bestow’t on any man.
OTHELLO
She is protectress of her honour too:
May she give that?
IAGO
Her honour is an essence that’s not seen,
They have it very oft that have it not.
But for the handkerchief –
OTHELLO
By heaven, I would most gladly have forgot it!
Thou said’st – O, it comes o’er my memory
As doth the raven o’er the infectious house Boding to all – he
had my handkerchief.
IAGO
Ay, what of that?
OTHELLO That’s not so good now.
IAGO
What if I had said I had seen him do you wrong?
Or heard him say – as knaves be such abroad
Who, having by their own importunate suit Or voluntary
dotage of some mistress Convinced or supplied them,
cannot choose But they must blab – OTHELLO Hath he said
anything?
IAGO
He hath, my lord, but be you well assured
No more than he’ll unswear.
OTHELLO What hath he said?
IAGO
Faith, that he did – I know not what. He did – OTHELLO
What? what?
IAGO
Lie.
OTHELLO With her?
IAGO With her, on her, what you will.
OTHELLO Lie with her? lie on her? We say lie on her when
they belie her! Lie with her, zounds, that’s fulsome! –
Handkerchief! confessions! handkerchief! – To confess, and
be hanged for his labour! First to be hanged, and then to
confess: I tremble at it. Nature would not invest herself
in such shadowing passion without some instruction. It is
not words that shakes me thus. Pish! Noses, ears, and lips.
Is’t possible? Confess! handkerchief! O devil!
[He] falls in a trance.
IAGO
Work on,
My medicine, work! Thus credulous fools are caught, And
many worthy and chaste dames even thus,
All guiltless, meet reproach. – What ho! my lord!
My lord, I say! Othello!

Enter CASSIO.

How now, Cassio?

CASSIO
What’s the matter?
IAGO
My lord is fallen into an epilepsy; This is his second fit, he
had one yesterday.
CASSIO
Rub him about the temples.
IAGO No, forbear: The lethargy must have his quiet course, If
not, he foams at mouth, and by and by
Breaks out to savage madness. Look, he stirs; Do you
withdraw yourself a little while, He will recover straight.
When he is gone I would on great occasion speak with you.
[Exit Cassio.]
How is it, general? have you not hurt your head?
OTHELLO
Dost thou mock me?
IAGO I mock you? no, by heaven!
Would you would bear your fortune like a man!
OTHELLO
A horned man’s a monster, and a beast.
IAGO
There’s many a beast then in a populous city,
And many a civil monster.
OTHELLO
Did he confess it?
IAGO Good sir, be a man, Think every bearded fellow that’s
but yoked
May draw with you. There’s millions now alive That nightly lie
in those unproper beds
Which they dare swear peculiar: your case is better.
O, ’tis the spite of hell, the fiend’s arch-mock, To lip a
wanton in a secure couch
And to suppose her chaste. No, let me know,
And, knowing what I am, I know what she shall be.
OTHELLO
O, thou art wise, ’tis certain.
IAGO
Stand you a while apart,
Confine yourself but in a patient list.
Whilst you were here o’erwhelmed with your grief – A passion
most unsuiting such a man – Cassio came hither. I shifted
him away
And laid good ’scuse upon your ecstasy, Bade him anon
return and here speak with me, The which he promised. Do
but encave yourself And mark the fleers, the gibes and
notable scorns That dwell in every region of his face;
For I will make him tell the tale anew
Where, how, how oft, how long ago, and when
He hath and is again to cope your wife.
I say, but mark his gesture; marry, patience, Or I shall say
you’re all in all in spleen
And nothing of a man.
OTHELLO Dost thou hear, Iago?
I will be found most cunning in my patience
But – dost thou hear? – most bloody.
IAGO That’s not amiss, But yet keep time in all. Will you
withdraw?
[Othello withdraws.]
Now will I question Cassio of Bianca,
A housewife that by selling her desires Buys herself bread
and clothes: it is a creature
That dotes on Cassio – as ’tis the strumpet’s plague
To beguile many and be beguiled by one.
He, when he hears of her, cannot refrain
From the excess of laughter. Here he comes. 1

Enter CASSIO.
As he shall smile, Othello shall go mad.
And his unbookish jealousy must construe
Poor Cassio’s smiles, gestures and light behaviour Quite in the
wrong. How do you now, lieutenant?
CASSIO
The worser, that you give me the addition 1
Whose want even kills me.
IAGO
Ply Desdemona well, and you are sure on’t.
[Speaking lower] Now if this suit lay in Bianca’s power
How quickly should you speed!
CASSIO Alas, poor caitiff!
OTHELLO
Look how he laughs already! 1
IAGO
I never knew a woman love man so.
CASSIO
Alas, poor rogue, I think i’faith she loves me.
OTHELLO
Now he denies it faintly, and laughs it out.
IAGO
Do you hear, Cassio?
OTHELLO Now he importunes him
To tell it o’er; go to, well said, well said. 1
IAGO
She gives it out that you shall marry her;
Do you intend it?
CASSIO
Ha, ha, ha!
OTHELLO
Do ye triumph, Roman, do you triumph?
CASSIO I marry! What, a customer! prithee bear some 1
charity to my wit, do not think it so unwholesome. Ha, ha,
ha!
OTHELLO So, so, so, so: they laugh that win.
IAGO Faith, the cry goes that you shall marry her.
CASSIO Prithee say true! 1
IAGO I am a very villain else.
OTHELLO Have you stored me? Well.
CASSIO This is the monkey’s own giving out. She is persuaded I
will marry her, out of her own love and flattery, not out 1
of my promise.
OTHELLO Iago beckons me: now he begins the story.
CASSIO She was here even now, she haunts me in every place. I
was the other day talking on the sea-bank with certain
Venetians, and thither comes the bauble and, by this 1
hand, falls me thus about my neck – OTHELLO Crying ‘O dear
Cassio!’ as it were: his gesture imports it.
CASSIO So hangs and lolls and weeps upon me, so shakes and
pulls me! Ha, ha, ha!
OTHELLO Now he tells how she plucked him to my chamber. 1
O, I see that nose of yours, but not that dog I shall throw it
to.
CASSIO Well, I must leave her company.
IAGO Before me! look where she comes!

Enter BIANCA.
CASSIO ’Tis such another fitchew; marry, a perfumed one. 1
What do you mean by this haunting of me?
BIANCA Let the devil and his dam haunt you! What did you
mean by that same handkerchief you gave me even now? I
was a fine fool to take it – I must take out the work! A 1
 likely piece of work, that you should find it in your chamber
and know not who left it there! This is some minx’s token,
and I must take out the work? There, give it your hobby-
horse; wheresoever you had it, I’ll take out no work on’t!
CASSIO How now, my sweet Bianca, how now, how now? 1
OTHELLO By heaven, that should be my handkerchief!
BIANCA If you’ll come to supper tonight, you may; if you will
not, come when you are next prepared for. Exit.
IAGO After her, after her!
CASSIO Faith, I must, she’ll rail in the streets else. 1
IAGO Will you sup there?
CASSIO Faith, I intend so.
IAGO Well, I may chance to see you, for I would very fain speak
with you.
CASSIO Prithee come, will you? 1
IAGO Go to, say no more. Exit Cassio.
OTHELLO How shall I murder him, Iago?
IAGO Did you perceive how he laughed at his vice?
OTHELLO O Iago!
IAGO And did you see the handkerchief? 1
OTHELLO Was that mine?
IAGO Yours, by this hand: and to see how he prizes the foolish
woman your wife! She gave it him, and he hath given it his
whore.
OTHELLO I would have him nine years a-killing. A fine 1
woman, a fair woman, a sweet woman!
IAGO Nay, you must forget that.
OTHELLO Ay, let her rot and perish and be damned tonight, for
she shall not live. No, my heart is turned to stone: I 1
strike it, and it hurts my hand. O, the world hath not a
sweeter creature: she might lie by an emperor’s side and
command him tasks.
IAGO Nay, that’s not your way.
OTHELLO Hang her, I do but say what she is: so delicate 1
with her needle, an admirable musician. O, she will sing the
 savageness out of a bear! of so high and plenteous wit and
invention!
IAGO She’s the worse for all this.
OTHELLO O, a thousand, a thousand times: and then of so 1
gentle a condition.
IAGO Ay, too gentle.
OTHELLO Nay, that’s certain. But yet the pity of it, Iago – O,
Iago, the pity of it, Iago!
IAGO If you are so fond over her iniquity, give her patent to 1
offend, for if it touch not you it comes near nobody.
OTHELLO I will chop her into messes! Cuckold me!
IAGO O, ’tis foul in her.
OTHELLO With mine officer!
IAGO That’s fouler. 2
OTHELLO Get me some poison, Iago, this night. I’ll not
expostulate with her, lest her body and beauty unprovide
my mind again. This night, Iago.
IAGO Do it not with poison, strangle her in her bed – even 2
the bed she hath contaminated.
OTHELLO Good, good, the justice of it pleases; very good!
IAGO And for Cassio, let me be his undertaker. You shall hear
more by midnight.
OTHELLO Excellent good. A trumpet within. What trumpet is 2
that same?
IAGO I warrant something from Venice.

Enter LODOVICO, DESDEMONA and Attendants.

’Tis Lodovico, this, comes from the duke.

See, your wife’s with him.
LODOVICO God save you, worthy general. 2
OTHELLO With all my heart, sir.
LODOVICO
The duke and senators of Venice greet you.
[Gives him a letter.]
OTHELLO
I kiss the instrument of their pleasures.
[Opens the letter and reads.]
DESDEMONA
And what’s the news, good cousin Lodovico?
IAGO
I am very glad to see you, signior. 2
Welcome to Cyprus.
LODOVICO
I thank you. How does Lieutenant Cassio?
IAGO
Lives, sir.
DESDEMONA
Cousin, there’s fallen between him and my lord
An unkind breach, but you shall make all well – OTHELLO 2
Are you sure of that?
DESDEMONA
My lord?
OTHELLO [Reads.]
This fail you not to do, as you will –
LODOVICO
He did not call, he’s busy in the paper.
Is there division ’twixt my lord and Cassio? 2
DESDEMONA
A most unhappy one: I would do much
T’atone them, for the love I bear to Cassio.
OTHELLO
Fire and brimstone!
DESDEMONA My lord?
OTHELLO Are you wise?
DESDEMONA
What, is he angry?
LODOVICO Maybe the letter moved him.
For, as I think, they do command him home, 2
Deputing Cassio in his government.
DESDEMONA
By my troth, I am glad on’t.
OTHELLO Indeed!
DESDEMONA My lord?
OTHELLO
I am glad … to see you mad.
DESDEMONA Why, sweet Othello?
OTHELLO
Devil! [Striking her]
DESDEMONA
I have not deserved this. 2
LODOVICO
My lord, this would not be believed in Venice
Though I should swear I saw’t. ’Tis very much; Make her
amends, she weeps.
OTHELLO O devil, devil!
If that the earth could teem with woman’s tears Each drop 2
she falls would prove a crocodile: Out of my sight!
DESDEMONA I will not stay to offend you.
LODOVICO
Truly, an obedient lady.
I do beseech your lordship, call her back.
OTHELLO
Mistress!
DESDEMONA
My lord? 2
OTHELLO
What would you with her, sir?
LODOVICO Who, I, my lord?
OTHELLO
Ay, you did wish that I would make her turn.
Sir, she can turn, and turn, and yet go on
And turn again. And she can weep, sir, weep.
And she’s obedient: as you say, obedient, Very obedient. – 2
Proceed you in your tears. – Concerning this, sir – O well-
painted passion! – I am commanded home. – Get you away.
I’ll send for you anon. – Sir, I obey the mandate
And will return to Venice. – Hence, avaunt! – [Exit 2
Desdemona.]

Cassio shall have my place. And, sir, tonight I do entreat that

we may sup together.
You are welcome, sir, to Cyprus. Goats and monkeys! Exit.
LODOVICO
Is this the noble Moor whom our full senate Call all in all 2
sufficient? This the nature
Whom passion could not shake? whose solid virtue
The shot of accident nor dart of chance
Could neither graze nor pierce?
IAGO He is much changed.
LODOVICO
Are his wits safe? Is he not light of brain?
IAGO
He’s that he is: I may not breathe my censure 2
What he might be; if what he might, he is not,
I would to heaven he were!
LODOVICO What! strike his wife!
IAGO
Faith, that was not so well; yet would I knew That stroke
would prove the worst.
LODOVICO Is it his use?
Or did the letters work upon his blood 2
And new-create this fault?
IAGO Alas, alas!
It is not honesty in me to speak
What I have seen and known. You shall observe him, And his
own courses will denote him so That I may save my 2
speech. Do but go after And mark how he continues.
LODOVICO
I am sorry that I am deceived in him. Exeunt.

[4.2] Enter OTHELLO and EMILIA.

OTHELLO
You have seen nothing, then?
EMILIA
Nor ever heard, nor ever did suspect.
OTHELLO
Yes, you have seen Cassio and … she together.
EMILIA
But then I saw no harm, and then I heard
Each syllable that breath made up between them.
OTHELLO
What, did they never whisper?
EMILIA Never, my lord.
OTHELLO
Nor send you out o’th’ way?
EMILIA
Never.
OTHELLO
To fetch her fan, her gloves, her mask, nor nothing?
EMILIA
Never, my lord.
OTHELLO
That’s strange.
EMILIA
I durst, my lord, to wager she is honest, Lay down my soul at
stake: if you think other Remove your thought, it doth
abuse your bosom.
If any wretch have put this in your head
Let heaven requite it with the serpent’s curse, For if she be
not honest, chaste and true There’s no man happy: the
purest of their wives
Is foul as slander.
OTHELLO Bid her come hither; go. Exit Emilia.
She says enough; yet she’s a simple bawd
That cannot say as much. This is a subtle whore, A closet, lock
and key, of villainous secrets; And yet she’ll kneel and pray,
I have seen her do’t.

Enter DESDEMONA and EMILIA.

DESDEMONA
My lord, what is your will?
OTHELLO Pray, chuck, come hither.
DESDEMONA
What is your pleasure?
OTHELLO Let me see your eyes.
Look in my face.
DESDEMONA What horrible fancy’s this?
OTHELLO [to Emilia]
Some of your function, mistress,
Leave procreants alone and shut the door;
Cough, or cry hem, if anybody come.
Your mystery, your mystery: nay, dispatch! Exit Emilia.
DESDEMONA
Upon my knees, what doth your speech import?
I understand a fury in your words
But not the words.
OTHELLO
Why, what art thou?
DESDEMONA
Your wife, my lord: your true and loyal wife.
OTHELLO
Come, swear it, damn thyself,
Lest, being like one of heaven, the devils themselves
Should fear to seize thee: therefore be double-damned,
Swear thou art honest!
DESDEMONA Heaven doth truly know it.
OTHELLO
Heaven truly knows that thou art false as hell.
DESDEMONA
To whom, my lord? with whom? how am I false?
OTHELLO
Ah, Desdemon, away, away, away!
DESDEMONA
Alas the heavy day, why do you weep?
Am I the motive of these tears, my lord?
If haply you my father do suspect An instrument of this
your calling back, Lay not your blame on me: if you have
lost him
Why, I have lost him too.
OTHELLO Had it pleased heaven
To try me with affliction, had they rained
All kinds of sores and shames on my bare head,
Steeped me in poverty to the very lips,
Given to captivity me and my utmost hopes,
I should have found in some place of my soul
A drop of patience; but, alas, to make me
The fixed figure for the time of scorn To point his slow and
moving finger at!
Yet could I bear that too, well, very well:
But there where I have garnered up my heart, Where either I
must live or bear no life,
The fountain from the which my current runs
Or else dries up – to be discarded thence!
Or keep it as a cistern for foul toads
To knot and gender in! Turn thy complexion there, Patience,
thou young and rose-lipped cherubin, Ay, here look,
grim as hell!
DESDEMONA
I hope my noble lord esteems me honest.
OTHELLO
O, ay, as summer flies are in the shambles, That quicken even
with blowing. O thou weed
Who art so lovely fair and smell’st so sweet
That the sense aches at thee, would thou hadst ne’er been
born!
DESDEMONA
Alas, what ignorant sin have I committed?
OTHELLO
Was this fair paper, this most goodly book
Made to write ‘whore’ upon? What committed!
Committed? O thou public commoner!
I should make very forges of my cheeks That would to
cinders burn up modesty
Did I but speak thy deeds. What committed!
Heaven stops the nose at it, and the moon winks, The bawdy
wind that kisses all it meets
Is hushed within the hollow mine of earth And will not
hear’t. What committed!
Impudent strumpet!
DESDEMONA By heaven, you do me wrong.
OTHELLO
Are not you a strumpet?
DESDEMONA
No, as I am a Christian.
If to preserve this vessel for my lord From any hated foul
unlawful touch
Be not to be a strumpet, I am none.
OTHELLO
What, not a whore?
DESDEMONA No, as I shall be saved.
OTHELLO
Is’t possible?
DESDEMONA
O heaven, forgive us!
OTHELLO I cry you mercy then,
I took you for that cunning whore of Venice That married with
Othello. You! Mistress!

Enter EMILIA.

That have the office opposite to Saint Peter

And keep the gates of hell – you, you, ay you!
We have done our course, there’s money for your pains, I
pray you turn the key and keep our counsel. Exit.
EMILIA
Alas, what does this gentleman conceive?
How do you, madam? how do you, my good lady?
DESDEMONA
Faith, half asleep.
EMILIA
Good madam, what’s the matter with my lord? 1
DESDEMONA
With whom?
EMILIA
Why, with my lord, madam.
DESDEMONA
Who is thy lord?
EMILIA He that is yours, sweet lady.
DESDEMONA
I have none. Do not talk to me, Emilia;
I cannot weep, nor answers have I none 1
But what should go by water. Prithee, tonight Lay on my bed
my wedding sheets; remember, And call thy husband hither.
EMILIA Here’s a change indeed!
Exit.
DESDEMONA
’Tis meet I should be used so, very meet.
How have I been behaved that he might stick 1
The small’st opinion on my greatest misuse?

Enter IAGO and EMILIA.

IAGO
What is your pleasure, madam? How is’t with you?
DESDEMONA
I cannot tell. Those that do teach young babes
Do it with gentle means and easy tasks.
He might have chid me so, for, in good faith, 1
I am a child to chiding.
IAGO What is the matter, lady?
EMILIA
Alas, Iago, my lord hath so bewhored her, Thrown such
despite and heavy terms upon her That true hearts
cannot bear it.
DESDEMONA
Am I that name, Iago?
IAGO What name, fair lady? 1
DESDEMONA
Such as she said my lord did say I was.
EMILIA
He called her whore. A beggar in his drink
Could not have laid such terms upon his callat.
IAGO
Why did he so?
DESDEMONA
I do not know; I am sure I am none such. 1
IAGO
Do not weep, do not weep: alas the day!
EMILIA
Hath she forsook so many noble matches, Her father, and
her country, and her friends,
To be called whore? would it not make one weep?
DESDEMONA
It is my wretched fortune.
IAGO Beshrew him for’t, How comes this trick upon him? 1
DESDEMONA Nay, heaven doth know.
EMILIA
I will be hanged if some eternal villain Some busy and
insinuating rogue, Some cogging, cozening slave, to get
some office,
Have not devised this slander, I’ll be hanged else! 1
IAGO
Fie, there is no such man, it is impossible.
DESDEMONA
If any such there be, heaven pardon him.
EMILIA
A halter pardon him, and hell gnaw his bones!
Why should he call her whore? who keeps her company?
What place, what time, what form, what likelihood The 1
Moor’s abused by some most villainous knave, Some base
notorious knave, some scurvy fellow.
O heaven, that such companions thou’dst unfold
And put in every honest hand a whip
To lash the rascals naked through the world Even from the 1
east to th’ west.
IAGO Speak within doors.
EMILIA
O fie upon them! some such squire he was
That turned your wit the seamy side without
And made you to suspect me with the Moor.
IAGO
You are a fool, go to.
DESDEMONA O God, Iago, What shall I do to win my lord 1
again?
Good friend, go to him, for, by this light of heaven,
I know not how I lost him. Here I kneel:
If e’er my will did trespass ’gainst his love Either in 1
discourse of thought or actual deed, Or that mine eyes,
mine ears or any sense Delighted them in any other form,
Or that I do not yet, and ever did,
And ever will – though he do shake me off
To beggarly divorcement – love him dearly, 1
Comfort forswear me! Unkindness may do much, And his
unkindness may defeat my life
But never taint my love. I cannot say whore: It does abhor me
now I speak the word;
To do the act that might the addition earn Not the world’s 1
mass of vanity could make me.
IAGO
I pray you, be content, ’tis but his humour; The business of
the state does him offence
And he does chide with you.
DESDEMONA
If ’twere no other –
IAGO ’Tis but so, I warrant. 1
[Trumpets.]
Hark how these instruments summon to supper:
The messengers of Venice stay the meat, Go in, and weep not;
all things shall be well.
Exeunt Desdemona and Emilia.

Enter RODERIGO.

How now, Roderigo?

RODERIGO I do not find that thou deal’st justly with me. 1
IAGO What in the contrary?
RODERIGO Every day thou doff’st me with some device, Iago,
and rather, as it seems to me now, keep’st from me all
conveniency than suppliest me with the least advantage 1
of hope. I will indeed no longer endure it; nor am I yet
persuaded to put up in peace what already I have foolishly
suffered.
IAGO Will you hear me, Roderigo?
RODERIGO Faith, I have heard too much; and your words and 1
performances are no kin together.
IAGO You charge me most unjustly.
RODERIGO With nought but truth. I have wasted myself out of
my means. The jewels you have had from me to deliver to
Desdemona would half have corrupted a votarist. You 1
have told me she hath received them, and returned me
expectations and comforts of sudden respect and
acquittance, but I find none.
IAGO Well, go to; very well.
RODERIGO ‘Very well,’ ‘go to’! I cannot go to, man, nor ’tis 1
not very well. By this hand, I think it is scurvy, and begin to
find myself fopped in it.
IAGO Very well.
RODERIGO I tell you, ’tis not very well! I will make myself known
to Desdemona: if she will return me my jewels I will 2
give over my suit and repent my unlawful solicitation; if not,
assure yourself I will seek satisfaction of you.
IAGO You have said now.
RODERIGO Ay, and said nothing but what I protest 2
intendment of doing.
IAGO Why, now I see there’s mettle in thee, and even from this
instant do build on thee a better opinion than ever before.
Give me thy hand, Roderigo. Thou hast taken against me a
most just exception – but yet I protest I have dealt most 2
directly in thy affair.
RODERIGO It hath not appeared.
IAGO I grant indeed it hath not appeared, and your suspicion is
not without wit and judgement. But, Roderigo, if thou hast
that in thee indeed which I have greater reason to 2
believe now than ever – I mean purpose, courage, and
valour – this night show it. If thou the next night following
enjoy not Desdemona, take me from this world with
treachery and devise engines for my life.
RODERIGO Well – what is it? Is it within reason and 2
compass?
IAGO Sir, there is especial commission come from Venice to
depute Cassio in Othello’s place.
RODERIGO Is that true? Why, then Othello and Desdemona 2
return again to Venice.
IAGO O no, he goes into Mauretania and taketh away with him
the fair Desdemona, unless his abode be lingered here by
some accident – wherein none can be so determinate as the
removing of Cassio.
RODERIGO How do you mean, removing of him? 2
IAGO Why, by making him uncapable of Othello’s place:
knocking out his brains.
RODERIGO And that you would have me to do!
IAGO Ay, if you dare do yourself a profit and a right.
He sups tonight with a harlotry, and thither will I go to 2
him. He knows not yet of his honourable fortune: if you will
watch his going thence – which I will fashion to fall out
between twelve and one – you may take him at your
pleasure. I will be near to second your attempt, and he 2
shall fall between us. Come, stand not amazed at it, but go
along with me: I will show you such a necessity in his death
that you shall think yourself bound to put it on him. It is
now high supper time, and the night grows to waste: about
it.
RODERIGO I will hear further reason for this. 2
IAGO And you shall be satisfied. Exeunt.

[4.3] Enter OTHELLO, LODOVICO, DESDEMONA, EMILIA and

Attendants.
LODOVICO
I do beseech you, sir, trouble yourself no further.
OTHELLO
O, pardon me, ’twill do me good to walk.
LODOVICO
Madam, good night: I humbly thank your ladyship.
DESDEMONA
Your honour is most welcome.
OTHELLO Will you walk, sir?
O, Desdemona –
DESDEMONA My lord?
OTHELLO Get you to bed On th’instant, I will be returned
forthwith.
Dismiss your attendant there: look’t be done.
DESDEMONA
I will, my lord.

Exeunt Othello, Lodovico and Attendants.

EMILIA
How goes it now? He looks gentler than he did.
DESDEMONA
He says he will return incontinent, And hath commanded
me to go to bed
And bid me to dismiss you.
EMILIA Dismiss me?
DESDEMONA
It was his bidding; therefore, good Emilia,
Give me my nightly wearing, and adieu.
We must not now displease him.
EMILIA
Ay. – Would you had never seen him!
DESDEMONA
So would not I: my love doth so approve him That even his
stubbornness, his checks, his frowns – Prithee unpin me
– have grace and favour.
EMILIA
I have laid those sheets you bade me on the bed.
DESDEMONA
All’s one. Good faith, how foolish are our minds!
If I do die before thee, prithee shroud me
In one of these same sheets.
EMILIA Come, come, you talk.
DESDEMONA
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
’twas, 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 to go hang my head all at one side And sing it like poor
Barbary. Prithee dispatch.
EMILIA Shall I go fetch your night-gown?
DESDEMONA No, unpin me here.
EMILIA This Lodovico is a proper man. A very hand some
man.
DESDEMONA He speaks well.
EMILIA I know a lady in Venice would have walked barefoot to
Palestine for a touch of his nether lip.
DESDEMONA [Sings.]
The poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree, Sing all a
green willow: Her hand on her bosom, her head on her
knee,
Sing willow, willow, willow.
The fresh streams ran by her and murmured her moans,
Sing willow, willow, willow:
Her salt tears fell from her and softened the stones,
Sing willow, willow, willow.
[Speaks.] Lay by these.
Willow, willow –
[Speaks.] Prithee hie thee: he’ll come anon.
Sing all a green willow must be my garland.
Let nobody blame him, his scorn I approve –
[Speaks.] Nay, that’s not next. Hark, who is’t that knocks?
EMILIA
It’s the wind.
DESDEMONA [Sings.]
I called my love false love; but what said he then?
Sing willow, willow, willow: If I court moe women, you’ll
couch with moe men.
[Speaks.] So, get thee gone; good night. Mine eyes do itch,
Doth that bode weeping?
EMILIA ’Tis neither here nor there.
DESDEMONA
I have heard it said so. O, these men, these men!
Dost thou in conscience think – tell me, Emilia – That there
be women do abuse their husbands
In such gross kind?
EMILIA There be some such, no question.
DESDEMONA
Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world?
EMILIA
Why, would not you?
DESDEMONA No, by this heavenly light!
EMILIA
Nor I neither, by this heavenly light:
I might do’t as well i’th’ dark.
DESDEMONA
Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world?
EMILIA
The world’s a huge thing: it is a great price
For a small vice.
DESDEMONA Good troth, I think thou wouldst not.
EMILIA By my troth, I think I should, and undo’t when I had
done. Marry, I would not do such a thing for a joint-ring, nor
for measures of lawn, nor for gowns, petticoats, nor caps,
nor any petty exhibition. But for all the whole world? ud’s
pity, who would not make her husband a cuckold to make
him a monarch? I should venture purgatory for’t.
DESDEMONA
Beshrew me, if I would do such a wrong
For the whole world!
EMILIA Why, the wrong is but a wrong i’th’ world; and
having the world for your labour, ’tis a wrong in your own
world, and you might quickly make it right.
DESDEMONA I do not think there is any such woman.
EMILIA Yes, a dozen, and as many to th’ vantage as would store
the world they played for.
But 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 husbands have. What is it that they do
When they change us for others? Is it sport?
I think it is. And doth affection breed it?
I think it doth. Is’t frailty that thus errs?
It is so too. And have not we affections?
Desires for sport? and frailty, as men have? 1
Then let them use us well: else let them know, The ills we do,
their ills instruct us so.
DESDEMONA
Good night, good night. God me such usage send Not to
pick bad from bad, but by bad mend! Exeunt.
[5.1] Enter IAGO and RODERIGO.
IAGO
Here, stand behind this bulk, straight will he come.
Wear thy good rapier bare, 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
thy resolution.
RODERIGO
Be near at hand, I may miscarry in’t.
IAGO
Here, at thy hand: be bold, and take thy stand.
[Retires.]
RODERIGO
I have no great devotion to the deed And yet he hath given me
satisfying reasons: ’Tis but a man gone. Forth, my
sword: he dies.
IAGO
I have rubbed this young quat almost to the sense
And he grows angry. Now, whether he kill Cassio Or Cassio
him, or each do kill the other, Every way makes my gain.
Live Roderigo, He calls me to a restitution large Of gold
and jewels that I bobbed from him As gifts to Desdemona: It
must not be. If Cassio do remain He hath a daily beauty in
his life That makes me ugly; and besides, the Moor May
unfold me to him – there stand I in much peril.
No, he must die. Be’t so! I hear him coming.

Enter CASSIO.
RODERIGO
I know his gait, ’tis he. Villain, thou diest!
[Makes a thrust at Cassio.]
CASSIO
That thrust had been mine enemy indeed
But that my coat is better than thou know’st: I will make
proof of thine.
[Draws, and wounds Roderigo.]
RODERIGO O, I am slain!

[Iago from behind wounds Cassio in the leg, and exit.]

CASSIO
I am maimed for ever! Help, ho! murder! murder!

Enter OTHELLO.
OTHELLO
The voice of Cassio. Iago keeps his word.
RODERIGO
O, villain that I am!
OTHELLO It is even so.
CASSIO
O, help ho! light! a surgeon!
OTHELLO
’Tis he. O brave Iago, honest and just, That hast such noble
sense of thy friend’s wrong!
Thou teachest me. Minion, your dear lies dead, And your
unblest fate hies; strumpet, I come.
Forth of my heart those charms, thine eyes, are blotted,
Thy bed, lust-stained, shall with lust’s blood be spotted.
Exit.

Enter LODOVICO and GRATIANO.

CASSIO
What ho, no watch, no passage? murder, murder!
GRATIANO
’Tis some mischance, the voice is very direful.
CASSIO
O help!
LODOVICO
Hark!
RODERIGO
O wretched villain!
LODOVICO
Two or three groan. It is a heavy night; These may be
counterfeits, let’s think’t unsafe
To come in to the cry without more help.
RODERIGO
Nobody come? then shall I bleed to death.

Enter IAGO, with a light.

LODOVICO
Hark!
GRATIANO
Here’s one comes in his shirt, with light and weapons.
IAGO
Who’s there? Whose noise is this that cries on murder?
LODOVICO
We do not know.
IAGO Did not you hear a cry?
CASSIO
Here, here! for heaven’s sake help me!
IAGO What’s the matter?
GRATIANO
This is Othello’s ancient, as I take it.
LODOVICO
The same indeed, a very valiant fellow.
IAGO
What are you here that cry so grievously?
CASSIO
Iago? O, I am spoiled, undone by villains!
Give me some help.
IAGO
O me, lieutenant! What villains have done this?
CASSIO
I think that one of them is hereabout
And cannot make away.
IAGO O treacherous villains!
What are you there? Come in, and give some help.
RODERIGO
O, help me here!
CASSIO
That’s one of them.
IAGO O murderous slave! O villain!
[Stabs Roderigo.]
RODERIGO
O damned Iago! O inhuman dog!
IAGO
Kill men i’th’ dark? Where be these bloody thieves?
How silent is this town! Ho, murder, murder!
What may you be? Are you of good or evil?
LODOVICO
As you shall prove us, praise us.
IAGO
Signior Lodovico?
LODOVICO
He, sir.
IAGO
I cry you mercy: here’s Cassio hurt by villains.
GRATIANO
Cassio?
IAGO
How is’t, brother?
CASSIO My leg is cut in two.
IAGO
Marry, heaven forbid!
Light, gentlemen, I’ll bind it with my shirt.

Enter BIANCA.
BIANCA
What is the matter, ho? who is’t that cried?
IAGO
Who is’t that cried?
BIANCA O my dear Cassio!
My sweet Cassio! O Cassio, Cassio, Cassio!
IAGO
O notable strumpet! Cassio, may you suspect
Who they should be that have thus mangled you?
CASSIO
No.
GRATIANO
I am sorry to find you thus;
I have been to seek you.
IAGO
Lend me a garter. So. – O for a chair To bear him easily
hence!
BIANCA
Alas, he faints! O Cassio, Cassio, Cassio!
IAGO
Gentlemen all, I do suspect this trash
To be a party in this injury.
Patience awhile, good Cassio. Come, come, Lend me a light.
Know we this face, or no?
Alas, my friend and my dear countryman, Roderigo? No –
yes sure! – O heaven, Roderigo!
GRATIANO
What, of Venice?
IAGO Even he, sir. Did you know him?
GRATIANO
Know him? Ay.
IAGO
Signior Gratiano? I cry you gentle pardon: These bloody
accidents must excuse my manners That so neglected you.
GRATIANO I am glad to see you.
IAGO
How do you, Cassio? O, a chair, a chair!
GRATIANO
Roderigo?
IAGO
He, he, ’tis he. [A chair is brought in.] O, that’s well said, the
chair.
Some good man bear him carefully from hence, I’ll fetch 1
the general’s surgeon. [To Bianca.] For you, mistress, Save
you your labour. – He that lies slain here, Cassio, Was my
dear friend. What malice was between you?
CASSIO
None in the world, nor do I know the man.
IAGO [to Bianca]
What, look you pale? – O, bear him out o’th’ air.
– Stay you, good gentlemen. – Look you pale, mistress? 1
– Do you perceive the gastness of her eye?
– Nay, if you stare we shall hear more anon.
– Behold her well, I pray you, look upon her:
Do you see, gentlemen? nay, guiltiness will speak
Though tongues were out of use.

Enter EMILIA.

EMILIA’Las, what’s the matter? 1

What’s the matter, husband?
IAGO
Cassio hath here been set on in the dark
By Roderigo and fellows that are ’scaped:
He’s almost slain, and Roderigo dead.
EMILIA
Alas, good gentleman! alas, good Cassio! 1
IAGO
This is the fruits of whoring. Prithee, Emilia, Go know of
Cassio where he supped tonight.
What, do you shake at that?
BIANCA
He supped at my house, but I therefore shake not.
IAGO
O, did he so? I charge you, go with me. 1
EMILIA
O fie upon thee, strumpet!
BIANCA I am no strumpet But of life as honest as you, that
thus Abuse me.
EMILIA As I? Foh, fie upon thee!
IAGO
Kind gentlemen, let’s go see poor Cassio dressed.
Come, mistress, you must tell’s another tale. 1
Emilia, run you to the citadel
And tell my lord and lady what hath happed.
– Will you go on afore? – This is the night
That either makes me or fordoes me quite.
Exeunt.

[5.2] Enter OTHELLO, with a light. DESDEMONA in her bed

[asleep].
OTHELLO
It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul!
Let me not name it to you, you chaste 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.
Put out the light, and then put out the light!
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 cunning’st pattern of excelling nature,
I know not where is that Promethean heat That can thy light
relume: when I have plucked the rose I cannot give it vital
growth again, It needs must wither. I’ll smell thee on
the tree; O balmy breath, that dost almost persuade Justice
to break her sword! Once more, once more: Be thus when
thou art dead and I will kill thee And love thee after. Once
more, and that’s the last.
He [smells, then] kisses her.
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. She wakes.
DESDEMONA
Who’s there? Othello?
OTHELLO Ay, Desdemona.
DESDEMONA
Will you come to bed, my lord?
OTHELLO
Have you prayed tonight, Desdemon?
DESDEMONA Ay, my lord.
OTHELLO
If you bethink yourself of any crime
Unreconciled as yet to heaven and grace, Solicit for it
straight.
DESDEMONA
Alack, my lord, what may you mean by that?
OTHELLO
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.
DESDEMONA
Talk you of killing?
OTHELLO Ay, I do.
DESDEMONA Then, heaven,
Have mercy on me!
OTHELLO Amen, with all my heart.
DESDEMONA
If you say so, I hope you will not kill me.
OTHELLO Hum!
DESDEMONA
And yet I fear you, for you’re fatal then
When your eyes roll so. Why I should fear I know not, Since
guiltiness I know not. But yet I feel I fear.
OTHELLO
Think on thy sins.
DESDEMONA They are loves I bear to you.
OTHELLO
Ay, and for that thou diest.
DESDEMONA
That death’s unnatural that kills for loving.
Alas, why gnaw you so your nether lip?
Some bloody passion shakes your very frame, These are
portents: but yet I hope, I hope They do not point on me.
OTHELLO Peace, and be still.
DESDEMONA
I will. So: what’s the matter?
OTHELLO That handkerchief Which I so loved and gave thee,
thou gavest
To Cassio.
DESDEMONA No, by my life and soul: Send for the man and ask
him.
OTHELLO Sweet soul, take heed, Take heed of perjury. Thou
art on thy death-bed.
DESDEMONA
I? – but not yet to die!
OTHELLO Yes, presently.
Therefore confess thee freely of thy sin,
For to deny each article with oath Cannot remove nor
choke the strong conception
That I do groan withal. Thou art to die.
DESDEMONA
Then Lord have mercy on me.
OTHELLO I say amen.
DESDEMONA
And have you mercy too. I never did
Offend you in my life, never loved Cassio But with such
general warranty of heaven As I might love: I never gave
him token.
OTHELLO
By heaven, I saw my handkerchief in’s hand!
O perjured woman, thou dost stone my heart And makest me
call what I intend to do A murder, which I thought a
sacrifice!
I saw the handkerchief.
DESDEMONA He found it then, I never gave it him. Send for him
hither, Let him confess the truth.
OTHELLO He hath confessed.
DESDEMONA
What, my lord?
OTHELLO That he hath – ud’s death! – used thee.
DESDEMONA
How? unlawfully?
OTHELLO Ay.
DESDEMONA He will not say so.
OTHELLO
No, his mouth is stopped. Honest Iago Hath ta’en order
for’t.
DESDEMONA O, my fear interprets!
What, is he dead?
OTHELLO Had all his hairs been lives
My great revenge had stomach for them all.
DESDEMONA
Alas, he is betrayed, and I undone.
OTHELLO
Out, strumpet, weep’st thou for him to my face?
DESDEMONA
O, banish me, my lord, but kill me not!
OTHELLO
Down, strumpet!
DESDEMONA
Kill me tomorrow, let me live tonight!
OTHELLO
Nay, if you strive – DESDEMONA
But half an hour!
OTHELLO Being done, there is no pause – DESDEMONA
But while I say one prayer!
OTHELLO It is too late.
DESDEMONA
O Lord! Lord! Lord! [He] smothers her.
EMILIA (within)
My lord, my lord! what ho, my lord, my lord!
OTHELLO
What noise is this? Not dead? not yet quite dead?
I that am cruel am yet merciful,
I would not have thee linger in thy pain.
So, so.
EMILIA (within) What ho! my lord! my lord!
OTHELLO Who’s there?
EMILIA [within]
O good my lord, I’d speak a word with you.
OTHELLO
Yes. ’Tis Emilia. – [to Emilia.] By and by. – She’s dead.
’Tis like she comes to speak of Cassio’s death, The noise was
high. Ha, no more moving?
Still as the grave. Shall she come in? were’t good?
I think she stirs again. No – what’s best to do?
If she come in, she’ll sure speak to my wife.
My wife, my wife! what wife? I have no wife.
O insupportable, O heavy hour!
Methinks it should be now a huge eclipse
Of sun and moon, and that th’affrighted globe
Should yawn at alteration.
EMILIA [within] I do beseech you That I may speak with 1
you! O good my lord!
OTHELLO
I had forgot thee: O come in, Emilia.
Soft, by and by. Let me the curtains draw.
Where art thou? What’s the matter with thee now?
[He unlocks the door.]

Enter EMILIA.
EMILIA
O my good lord, yonder’s foul murders done! 1
OTHELLO
What? now?
EMILIA
But now, my lord.
OTHELLO
It is the very error of the moon, She comes more nearer earth
than she was wont And makes men mad.
EMILIA Cassio, my lord, hath killed A young Venetian, called 1
Roderigo.
OTHELLO
Roderigo killed? and Cassio killed?
EMILIA
No, Cassio is not killed.
OTHELLO Not Cassio killed?
Then murder’s out of tune, and sweet revenge
Grows harsh.
DESDEMONA O falsely, falsely murdered! 1
EMILIA
O lord, what cry is that?
OTHELLO
That? what?
EMILIA
Out and alas, that was my lady’s voice: [She draws the bed-
curtains.]
Help, help, ho, help! O lady, speak again,
Sweet Desdemona, O sweet mistress, speak! 1
DESDEMONA
A guiltless death I die.
EMILIA O, who hath done
This deed?
DESDEMONA Nobody. I myself. Farewell.
Commend me to my kind lord – O, farewell! She dies.
OTHELLO
Why, how should she be murdered?
EMILIA Alas, who knows?
OTHELLO
You heard her say herself it was not I. 1
EMILIA
She said so; I must needs report the truth.
OTHELLO
She’s like a liar gone to burning hell:
’Twas I that killed her.
EMILIA O, the more angel she, And you the blacker devil!
OTHELLO
She turned to folly, and she was a whore. 1
EMILIA
Thou dost belie her, and thou art a devil.
OTHELLO
She was false as water.
EMILIA Thou art rash as fire to say That she was false. O, she
was heavenly true!
OTHELLO
Cassio did top her: ask thy husband else.
O, I were damned beneath all depth in hell 1
But that I did proceed upon just grounds
To this extremity. Thy husband knew it all.
EMILIA
My husband?
OTHELLO Thy husband.
EMILIA That she was false?
To wedlock?
OTHELLO Ay, with Cassio. Had she been true,
If heaven would make me such another world Of one 1
entire and perfect chrysolite, I’d not have sold her for it.
EMILIA My husband?
OTHELLO
Ay, ’twas he that told me on her first; An honest man he is, and
hates the slime
That sticks on filthy deeds.
EMILIA My husband!
OTHELLO What needs This iterance, woman? I say thy 1
husband.
EMILIA
O mistress, villainy hath made mocks with love!
My husband say she was false?
OTHELLO He, woman; I say thy husband: dost understand the
word?
My friend thy husband, honest, honest Iago. 1
EMILIA
If he say so, may his pernicious soul Rot half a grain a day!
he lies to th’ heart: She was too fond of her most filthy
bargain!
OTHELLO
Ha!
EMILIA
Do thy worst: 1
This deed of thine is no more worthy heaven Than thou wast
worthy her.
OTHELLO Peace, you were best!
EMILIA
Thou hast not half that power to do me harm
As I have to be hurt. O gull, O dolt, As ignorant as dirt! 1
Thou hast done a deed [He threatens her with his sword.]
– I care not for thy sword, I’ll make thee known
Though I lost twenty lives. Help, help, ho, help!
The Moor hath killed my mistress! Murder, murder!

Enter MONTANO, GRATIANO and IAGO.

MONTANO
What is the matter? How now, general?
EMILIA
O, are you come, Iago? you have done well 1
That men must lay their murders on your neck.
GRATIANO
What is the matter?
EMILIA
Disprove this villain, if thou be’st a man;
He says thou told’st him that his wife was false,
I know thou didst not, thou’rt not such a villain. 1
Speak, for my heart is full.
IAGO
I told him what I thought, and told no more
Than what he found himself was apt and true.
EMILIA
But did you ever tell him she was false?
IAGO
I did. 1
EMILIA
You told a lie, an odious, damned lie!
Upon my soul, a lie, a wicked lie!
She false with Cassio? Did you say with Cassio?
IAGO
With Cassio, mistress. Go to, charm your tongue.
EMILIA
I will not charm my tongue, I am bound to speak: My 1
mistress here lies murdered in her bed.
ALL
O heavens forfend!
EMILIA
And your reports have set the murder on.
OTHELLO
Nay, stare not, masters, it is true indeed.
GRATIANO
’Tis a strange truth. 1
MONTANO
O monstrous act!
EMILIA
Villainy, villainy, villainy!
I think upon’t, I think I smell’t, O villainy!
I thought so then: I’ll kill myself for grief!
O villainy, villainy! 1
IAGO
What, are you mad? I charge you, get you home.
EMILIA
Good gentlemen, let me have leave to speak.
’Tis proper I obey him – but not now.
Perchance, Iago, I will ne’er go home. 1
OTHELLO
O! O! O! Othello falls on the bed.
EMILIA
Nay, lay thee down and roar For thou hast killed the sweetest
innocent That e’er did lift up eye.
OTHELLO O, she was foul.
I scarce did know you, uncle: there lies your niece Whose 2
breath, indeed, these hands have newly stopped; I know
this act shows horrible and grim.
GRATIANO
Poor Desdemon, I am glad thy father’s dead;
Thy match was mortal to him, and pure grief Shore his old
thread in twain. Did he live now This sight would make 2
him do a desperate turn, Yea, curse his better angel from
his side And fall to reprobance.
OTHELLO
’Tis pitiful; but yet Iago knows That she with Cassio hath the
act of shame
A thousand times committed. Cassio confessed it, And she 2
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 mother. 2
EMILIA
O God, O heavenly God!
IAGO Zounds, 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. 2
IAGO
Be wise, and get you home.
EMILIA
I will not. [Iago tries to stab Emilia.]
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 2
solemn earnestness – More than indeed belonged to such a
trifle – He begged of me to steal’t.
IAGO Villainous 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! 2
O murderous coxcomb, what should such a fool Do with so
good a wife?
[Othello runs at Iago. Iago stabs his wife.]
OTHELLO Are there no stones in heaven But what serves for the
thunder? Precious villain!
GRATIANO
The woman falls, sure he hath killed his wife. 2
EMILIA
Ay, ay; O lay me by my mistress’ side. Exit Iago.
GRATIANO
He’s gone, but his wife’s killed.
MONTANO
’Tis a notorious villain. Take you this weapon Which I have
here recovered from the Moor; Come, guard the door
without, let him not pass But kill him rather. I’ll after 2
that same villain, For ’tis a damned slave. Exeunt Montano
and Gratiano.
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 2
And die in music. [Sings.] Willow, willow, willow.
– Moor, she was chaste, she loved thee, cruel Moor,
So come my soul to bliss as I speak true!
So speaking as I think, alas, I die. She dies.
OTHELLO
I have another weapon in this chamber, 2
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, 2
Or, naked as I am, I will assault thee.

[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 2
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 weaponed: Here is my 2
journey’s end, here is my butt
And very sea-mark of my utmost sail.
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 2
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 cursed, cursed slave!
Whip me, ye devils, 2
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, O!

Enter LODOVICO, MONTANO,Officers with IAGO, prisoner, and

CASSIO in a chair.
LODOVICO
Where is this rash and most unfortunate man? 2
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 killed. 2
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, Fallen in the practice
of a cursed slave, What shall be said to thee?
OTHELLO Why, anything; An honourable murderer, if you 2
will,
For nought I did in hate, but all in honour.
LODOVICO
This wretch hath part confessed his villainy.
Did you and he consent in Cassio’s death?
OTHELLO
Ay. 2
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 ensnared my soul and body?
IAGO
Demand me nothing. What you know, you know. 3
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 befallen, Which, as I 3
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! 3
LODOVICO
Now here’s another discontented paper Found in his pocket
too, and this, it seems,
Roderigo meant t’have sent this damned villain But that,
belike, Iago in the nick
Came in, and satisfied him. 3
OTHELLO
O thou pernicious caitiff!
How came you, Cassio, by that handkerchief
That was my wife’s?
CASSIO I found it in my chamber, And he himself confessed but
even now That there he dropped it for a special purpose 3
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, 3
After long seeming dead, Iago hurt him,
Iago set him on.
LODOVICO [to Othello]
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 3
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 him away. 3
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 3
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 3
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
Their medicinable gum. Set you down this, And say 3
besides that in Aleppo once, Where a malignant and a
turbanned Turk Beat a Venetian and traduced the state, I
took by th’ throat the circumcised dog And smote him –
thus! He stabs himself.
LODOVICO
O bloody period!
GRATIANO All that’s spoke is marred. 3
OTHELLO
I kissed thee ere I killed thee: no way but this, Killing
myself, to die upon a kiss.
[Kisses Desdemona, and] dies.
CASSIO
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, 3
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 to you. To you, lord governor, 3
Remains the censure of this hellish 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.

FINIS.
 LONGER NOTES

LIST OF ROLES ‘The Names of the Actors’ was printed in the

Folio, at the end of the play, in two columns (Texts, 70).
It is one of seven such lists in F and may have been
compiled by Ralph Crane, who is thought to have
transcribed other F plays which have similar lists (Tem,
TGV, MM, WT: see Texts, 70–2). The embellishment
below ‘The Names of the Actors’, consisting of
brackets, colons and asterisks, resembles similar ones
found in other Crane manuscripts, but I have not seen
one that is exactly the same in Crane’s work or
elsewhere. Apart from changing the heading and
printing the names in capitals, the Arden 3 list adopts
the sequence and layout of the Folio, and therefore
places female parts separately. All additions to F’s list
are in square brackets.
Dramatists would have found such lists useful when they
wrote their plays, or even before they began to write
(Honigmann, Stability, 44–6). Did Crane copy his list
from Shakespeare’s own papers? It is curious that his
list for MM begins ‘Vincentio: the Duke.’, for the text of
MM never mentions the Duke’s name. Shakespeare had
a weakness for naming his characters even when
names are not strictly necessary: the MM list could be
authorial. So, too, the Othello list calls Montano
‘Gouernour of Cyprus’, an authorial intention that we
may deduce from the dialogue (see Texts, 71–2), though
not one spelt out in F. In Q Othello, however, occurs the
SD ‘Enter Montanio, Gouernor of Cypres’ (2.1.0), and
Crane might have taken these words from Q. It follows
 that we cannot tell whether Crane copied or tidied such
lists from Shakespeare’s papers or whether Crane
alone was responsible for them. It should be noted,
though, that Crane usually placed the play-world’s ruler
first whereas in Othello the Duke is placed sixth, and
that the Othello list differs from Crane’s lists in other
ways.
In Cinthio Shakespeare found only one name, Disdemona.
In the French translation of Cinthio (1583) this became
Disdemone. While Shakespeare’s ‘Desdemona’ and
‘Desdemon’ (3.1.55, 3.3.55, etc.) may indicate that he
knew the Italian and French versions (see p. 375),
feminine names ending in -a lose the -a at times in
other plays (Helena in AW, Isabella in MM). It is just
possible, in view of the not uncommon e:i confusion in
Othello (Texts, 88–9), that Shakespeare actually wrote
Disdemon(a) and that Desdemona was a misreading
that stuck (compare Imogen–Innogen in Cym). The
misreading ‘Montanio’ likewise stuck in Q, where F has
‘Montano’, and the misreading ‘Rodorigo’ stuck in F,
instead of Q’s ‘Roderigo’. As F adopted many ‘common
errors’ from Q (ibid., 95–8), ‘Desdemona’ for
‘Disdemona’ could be one as well.
On a different tack, how should we pronounce ‘Othello’?
The medial -th- in Hecatommithi must be sounded as -
t-; Ben Jonson’s ‘Thorello’ (Every Man In) derives from
Italian ‘torello’, a young bull; ‘Othoman’ was an
alternative spelling for ‘Ottoman’: it seems possible
that Shakespeare wrote ‘Othello’ and meant ‘Otello’.
He might have heard of the Jesuit, Girolamo Otello of
Bassano (1519–81); according to T. Sipahigil (‘Othello’s
name, once again’, N&Q, 18 (1971), 147–8), ‘Jesuit
historians invariably speak of the notoriety of Girolamo
Otello as an over-ardent spirit, quick to follow zealous
impulses’, i.e. he had something in common with
 Othello. But Otello was an out-of-the-way name; if
Shakespeare knew it he might still want to change it, as
also in the case of Disdemona.
Several of the play’s names were probably invented or
adapted by Shakespeare. (1) Othello: from Otello, or
from Otho, Othoman or Thorello (see F. N. Lees,
‘Othello’s name’, N&Q, 8 (1961), 139–41; R. F.
Fleissner, ‘The Moor’s nomenclature’, N&Q, 25 (1978),
143). (2) Desdemona: from Disdemona. (3) Brabantio:
cf. Brabant Senior in Jack Drum’s Entertainment (1601)
and the Duke of Brabant in The Weakest Goeth to the
Wall (1600). (4) Montano: the name reappears in Q1
Hamlet (1603): see p. 350. (5) Michael Cassio: the only
person in Othello with two names. Compare Cassius in
JC. The verb ‘to cass’ was ‘a frequent form of our word
“cashier”’ (Hart).
Several of the names have curious associations. Both Iago
and Roderigo are Spanish forms (and Iago’s ‘Diablo!’,
2.3.157, unique in Shakespeare, is the Spanish form of
this word). The most famous Spanish Iago was
Sant’Iago (St James of Compostella), known as
‘Matamoros’ (‘the Moor-killer’) (see Bullough, 217;
Everett, ‘“Spanish” Othello’). Iago’s ‘I know our country
disposition well’ (3.3.204) nevertheless appears to refer
to Italy (where Spain was a dominant power in the later
sixteenth century).
Disdemona, said Cinthio (see p. 395), was ‘a name of
unlucky augury’ (it meant ‘unfortunate’). Bianca (=
Blanche, white, i.e. pure), a name previously used by
Shakespeare in TS for a less than perfect young lady,
was the Christian name of the notorious Bianca Capello
(1548–87), a Venetian courtesan whose story Middleton
dramatized in Women Beware Women and Webster
perhaps glanced at when he created his ‘white devil’.
Iago is usually trisyllabic (‘I-a-go’). Cassio is more often
disyllabic, but can be trisyllabic (1.1.19). See Texts,
104.
1.1.8 his lieutenant The military ranks of an ancient (i.e.
ensign, or standard-bearer), a lieutenant and a general
may confuse readers because ‘Elizabethan field-grade
officers had also a different company rank’ (Paul A.
Jorgensen, Shakespeare’s Military World (1956), 100–
18: in this note I am indebted to Jorgensen’s helpful
discussion). Cinthio’s ‘Cassio’ is a corporal, but
Shakespeare made him a lieutenant, apparently
lieutenant of a company: as such he would be superior
to the ancient, though there would be ‘a troublesome
overlapping of the two offices, and an occasion for
friction’. A company-rank captain personally chose his
company’s lieutenant, ensign and lower officers;
Othello did so and, it seems, gave Cassio accelerated
promotion, therefore we should recognize that Iago has
‘what to him seem real grievances’. Yet when Othello is
replaced as general in command of Cyprus the
Venetians appoint ‘Cassio in his government’ and
‘Cassio rules in Cyprus’ as ‘lord governor’ (4.1.236,
5.2.330, 365). Towards the end of the play Shakespeare
appears to think of Cassio not as a lieutenant of a
company but as a staff officer, a lieutenant-general –
two ranks that are incompatible (unlike Othello’s two
ranks as captain of a company and as general of an
army). Shakespeare either forgot Cassio’s junior rank
as a mere company lieutenant or assumed that his
audience would forget (just as he probably assumed
that the audience would not notice the double time
scheme). See also Julia Genster, ‘Lieutenancy, standing
in and Othello’, ELH, 57 (1990), 785–805.
1.1.20 Furness cites several pages of explanation, including
the following: ‘he is not yet completely damned,
 because he is not absolutely married’ (Steevens,
referring to 4.1.124: but the later suggestion that
Cassio is expected to marry Bianca does not help at
1.1.20); ‘a man almost degraded into a woman (through
feminine tastes and habits) … as when one says “A
soldier wasted in a parson”’ (Earl of Southesk); ‘a
fellow who is willing to go to perdition … for a beautiful
woman’ (Crosby). Cf. Sisson, Readings, ‘he is given to
women, practically married and likely therefore to be
uxorious and distracted from soldierly virtue’ (2.246). I
prefer Johnson’s candid admission that the line is
obscure and/or corrupt.
1.3.322 nettles Pliny has a chapter ‘Of the nettle’ (22.13),
which was cultivated for medicinal purposes. J. T.
McCullen thinks each pair of herbs here contains an
aphrodisiac and an anti-aphrodisiac, a combination
used by physicians to treat love sickness. Ridley
compared Lyly, Euphues (1.187), ‘good Gardeiners …
mixe Hisoppe wyth Time as ayders the one to the
growth of the other, the one beeinge drye, the other
moyste’.
2.1.12 clouds Perhaps an echo of Ovid, Tristia, 1.2.19ff.,
‘what vast mountains of water heave themselves aloft
… you think, they will touch the highest stars … you
think they will touch black Tartarus’ (T. Sipahigil, ‘Ovid
and the Tempest in Othello’, SQ, 44 (1993), 468–71).
But cf. Psalms 107.25ff.: such poetical storms were
widely copied.
2.1.15 guards, pole These stars gave navigators their
bearings. Both everfired and -fixed are possible: cf. KL
3.7.61, ‘quenched the stelled fires’, where stelled =
either ‘starry’ (from Lat. stella) or ‘fixed’ (from ME
stellen). Cf. also Oth 3.3.466, ‘you ever-burning lights
above’.
2.1.26 Veronessa = from Verona. The feminine ending -
essa (as in contessa) is wrong here: the Italian word is
Veronese (four syllables, perhaps what Shakespeare
wrote). Verona, though an inland city, had ships at the
battle of Lepanto; Shakespeare may have meant ‘a ship
on the side of Venice, belonging to Verona’. QF
punctuation (unlikely to be Shakespeare’s) implies that
Veronessa refers to Cassio!
2.1.155 change exchange; hence, ‘to make a foolish
exchange’ (Ridley). Shakespeare no doubt knew that
‘the taile-piece [of many fishes] is in greatest request’
(Pliny, quoted Hart), and that the cod’s head is
worthless. Puns on cod (= penis) and tail (= pudenda).
Balz Engler compared Tilley, H240, ‘Better be the head
of yeomanry than the tail of the gentry’, and proverbs
‘directed against foolish ambition’ (‘To change the cod’s
head for the salmon’s tail’, SQ, 35 (1984), 202–3).
2.1.173 three fingers i.e. one after the other. ‘The kissing
of his hand was a quite normal courteous gesture from
a gentleman to a lady’ (Ridley, citing LLL 4.1.146, ‘To
see him kiss his hand’, TN 3.4.32, ‘Why dost thou smile
so, and kiss thy hand so oft?’). But both extracts refer
to foppish, extravagant behaviour, as Iago does here.
2.1.301 *trash check a hound, hence, hold back, restrain.
An easy misreading in Q (less easy in F), and agrees
with Roderigo’s later complaint that Iago has not
advanced his cause (4.2.175ff.). F trace might =
pursue, dog (OED 5), i.e. whom I dog in the hope that
he will help me with quick hunting; or, ‘whom I keep
hungry so that he may hunt the more eagerly’ (a
hawking metaphor: Hulme, 254–6).
2.3.85ff. Iago’s song is adapted from an early ballad known
as ‘Bell my wife’ or ‘Take thy old cloak about thee’. The
ballad predated Othello, being quoted in Robert
Greene’s Quip for an Upstart Courtier (1592), ‘it was a
 good and blessed time heere in Englane [sic], when k.
Stephen wore a paire of cloth breeches of a Noble a
paire, anf [sic] thought them passing costlye’ (sig. C3b).
A complete text was printed in Thomas Percy’s Reliques
of Ancient English Poetry (1765), eight eight-line
stanzas, consisting of the words of Bell and of her
husband. They have been together forty-four years; it is
bitter winter weather, and she tells him to put on his
old cloak and to go out and save the old cow. Her
stanzas end ‘man! put (or, take) thine old cloak about
thee!’, his – ‘for I’ll have a new cloak about me’. He
wants to abandon his peasant life and seek
advancement at court, she warns him against pride.
Stanzas 6 and 7 leave us in no doubt that the ballad
expresses impatience with privilege (appropriately for
Iago):

O Bell my wiffe! why doest thou flyte?

now is nowe, and then was then;
seeke all the world now throughout,
thou kens not Clownes from gentlemen;
they are cladd in blacke, greene, yellow, and blew,
soe ffarr aboue their owne degree;
once in my liffe Ile take a vew,* [*= ?give myself some licence]
ffor Ile haue a new cloake about mee.

King Harry was a verry good K[ing;]

I trow his hose cost but a Crowne;
he thought them 12d. ouer to deere,
therfore he called the taylor Clowne.
he was King and wore the Crowne,
and thouse but of a low degree;
itts pride that putts this cumtrye downe;
man! put thye old Cloake about thee!1
We cannot be certain that Percy printed the ballad exactly
as Shakespeare knew it: if he did, which is unlikely,
Shakespeare introduced changes in every line, though
apparently retaining the character of the original and
its ‘class’ feeling. We may assume that Shakespeare’s
audience was familiar with the ballad, even if Italian
Cassio seems not to be. The ballad tune associated with
the song is found in Robert Bremner’s Thirty Scots
Songs (1770), reproduced in Sternfeld, 149, and below
on p. 402. (See also the books on music in Shakespeare
cited in the LN on 4.3.39ff.).
2.3.166–7 Cf. MA 3.4.57, ‘and you be not turned Turk’;
Dent, T609, ‘To turn Turk’. To Elizabethans, Turks and
Moors must have seemed much alike (see p. 341): 166–
8 bring out Othello’s ‘otherness’. Chew (108) notes ‘the
well attested fact that Turkish soldiers, though they
might bicker and squabble among themselves, never
came to blows with each other’; see Rodney Poisson,
‘Which heaven has forbid the Ottomites’, SQ 18 (1967),
67–70. That is, ‘do we fight amongst ourselves, which
the Turks are forbidden to do by their religion?’ Walker
glossed 167 ‘by destroying their fleet’. Cf. also
Homilies, 456, ‘Surely it is a shame that Paynims
[pagans] should be wiser than we.’
2.3.304–5 creature 1 Timothy 4.1–4 warns against
seducing spirits that ‘abstain from meats which God
hath created to be received with giving thanks … For
every creature of God is good’. Intoxicating drink was
called a creature (facetiously) before Shakespeare, as
also later by Dryden, ‘My master took too much of the
creature last night’ (OED 1d); but creature could = any
created thing (including food and drink).
3.1.3–4 He refers to the Neapolitan (venereal) disease (cf.
TC 2.3.18), which could eat away the nose (Tim
4.3.157). He means that the instruments snuffle or
scrape instead of ringing out musically; they ‘must have
double reeds (like modern oboe reeds) which produce a
nasal sound’ (R. King, ‘“Then murder’s out of tune”: the
music and structure of Othello’, SS, 39 (1987), 155).
3.3.126 *delations accusations; narrations; Q denotements
= indications. ‘Delate’ and ‘dilate’ were
interchangeable (cf. Ham 1.2.38, Q2, F): see Patricia
Parker, ‘Shakespeare and rhetoric: “dilation” and
“delation” in Othello’, in Shakespeare and the Question
of Theory, ed. P. Parker and G. Hartman (1985), 54–74.
Kittredge glossed dilations as swellings, i.e. ‘emotions
that make the heart swell’.
3.3.159 immediate i.e. dearest; of a relation between two
things: existing without any intervening medium or
agency (OED 2). Cf. Proverbs 22.1, ‘A good name is
more to be desired than great riches’, Ecclesiasticus
41.12 (Noble, 218); Dent, N22, ‘A good name is better
than riches.’ Perhaps influenced by Homilies, 127,
‘there cometh less hurt of a thief, than of a railing
tongue: for the one taketh away a man’s good name;
the other taketh but his riches, which is of much less
value’ (T. W. Craik, private communication). Compare
Iago at 2.3.258ff.
3.3.291 *SD. It is not clear here whether he or she drops
the handkerchief: but cf. 315. If she tries to bind his
head from behind he can push her hand away without
looking at the handkerchief; let it alone then = leave
my headache alone. See 441n. and L. Hartley,
‘Dropping the handkerchief: pronoun reference and
stage direction in Othello III.iii’, ELN, 8 (1970–1), 173–
6.
3.3.364 man’s (as opposed to a dog, which has no soul),
i.e. he will consign Iago’s soul to eternal damnation
(375). Q may imply that Iago risks his soul, F that
Othello risks his (because of what he will do to Iago);
but 364 could be less specific, i.e. a vague oath. See
also Matthew 26.24–5, ‘woe unto that man by whom the
son of man is betrayed: It had been good for that man if
he had not been born. Then Judas … said, Master, Is it
I?’ Did Shakespeare think of Iago as a Judas figure?
3.3.406–7 prime, hot, salt, in pride all synonyms for
lecherous, ‘on heat’ (Ridley). Prime is not recorded in
this sense elsewhere. I suggest primed = ready to
discharge (sexually). Cf. Dent, G167, ‘As lecherous as a
goat’; also TC 3.1.130, ‘hot thoughts beget hot deeds,
and hot deeds is love’; Tim 4.3.84–6, ‘Be a whore still …
Make use of thy salt hours’; Luc 438–9, ‘Smoking with
pride … to make his stand / On her bare breast.’
3.3.450 hollow hell Cf. Seneca, Thyestes, tr. Jasper
Heywood, ‘Where most prodigious vglye thynges, / the
hollowe hell dothe hyde’ (1560 edn, sig. E4: 4th scene,
added by translator). Q Cell is not unlike Ham 5.2.364–
5, ‘O proud death, / What feast is toward in thine
eternal cell’, and Luc, 881–2. F hollow hell anticipates
Tem 1.2.214–15, ‘Hell is empty, / And all the devils are
here’. Cf. also Tourneur, Transformed Metamorphosis
(1600), B6b, ‘blacke horrors cell’, R. Armin, Two Maids
(1609), E1b, ‘Rouse the blacke mischiefe from thy
ebben cell’. Both Q and F are possible.
3.3.458 *keeps It is possible that one keeps is a copyist’s
error, but which one? Editors who follow Q2 may have
two errors in this line. Cf. a possible echo in T. Powell,
Virtue’s Due (1603), B6a, ‘Her resolution was
Proponticke right, / And forward stem’d against the
Moones retreat’, which suggests ‘ne’er keeps retiring
ebb but stems due on’ (stems = heads, OED v. 3). But
 Shakespeare liked to repeat words in ‘rhetorical’
passages. Sisson thinks that the first keeps was an
anticipation of the second (by Shakespeare or a scribe):
‘we simply delete the first keeps, and read ebbs for
ebb, no difficult misreading’.
3.4.47 i.e. we now give our hands (in marriage) without
giving our love. Stressing of old and our, the actor can
suggest ‘a denial of Desdemona’s assertion’ in 45
(Capell).
‘It is difficult … to escape from seeing here an allusion to
the new order of baronetage instituted by King James
in 1612, of which the badge was the addition of a hand
gules to the coat of arms’ (Ridley, from Warburton,
etc.). But this would mean that the ‘allusion’ was later
added to the Q and F manuscripts – unlikely. Others
thought no allusion necessary. Dyce compared Warner’s
Albion’s England (1596 edn, 282): ‘My hand shall neuer
giue my heart, my heart shall giue my hand’; Hart
quoted Cornwallis, Essays (1600–1): people used to
‘give their hands and their hearts together, but we
think it a finer grace to look asquint, our hand looking
one way, and our heart another’.
3.4.72–3 sibyl prophetess, as in ancient Greece and Rome.
‘We say, I counted the clock to strike four; so she
numbred the sun to course, to run … two hundred
annual circuits’ (Johnson); i.e. she had calculated that
the sun would make two hundred (further) circuits, that
the world would end in two hundred years (hence
prophetic). Calculating the date of the end of the world
was a Renaissance pastime.
4.2.60 fountain spring, well (Lat. fons). The imagery picks
up from 3.3.274, and from Proverbs 5.15–18, ‘Drink the
water of thy cistern, and of the rivers out of the mids(t)
of thine own well. Let thy fountains flow forth … let thy
fountain be blessed, and rejoice with the wife of thy
 youth’ (Genevan Bible, which heads the chapter
‘Whoredom forbidden’; here thy cistern, thine own well
= thy wife). Cf. also Homilies, 114: whoredom is ‘that
most filthy lake, foul puddle, and stinking sink,
whereunto all kinds of sins and evils flow’.
4.3.39ff. Shakespeare adapted the Willow Song ‘from a pre-
existing text and probably intended that his version be
sung to one of two pre-existing tunes’ (B. N. S. Gooch
and D. Thatcher, A Shakespeare Music Catalogue, 5
vols (Oxford, 1991), 2.1255). The song was printed
from an old ballad in Percy’s Reliques (1765), and
reprinted with music by Furness, 278. We should not
assume, however, that Percy’s version gives the ballad
verbatim as Shakespeare found it. If it did,
Shakespeare changed the sex of the singer and adapted
quite freely, as the following extracts show.

A poore soule sat sighing under a sicamore tree;

‘O willow, willow, willow!’
With his hand on his bosom, his head on his knee:
‘O willow, willow, willow!
‘O willow, willow, willow!
Sing, O the greene willow shall be my garlànd.’
…
My love she is turned; untrue she doth prove:
O willow, &c.
She renders me nothing but hate for my love.
O willow, &c.
Sing, O the greene willow, &c.

The cold streams ran by him, his eyes wept apace;

O willow, &c.
The salt tears fell from him, which drowned his face;
O willow, &c.
Sing, O the greene willow, &c.

The mute birds sate by him, made tame by his mones:

O willow, &c.
The salt tears fell from him, which softened the stones.
O willow, &c.
Sing, O the greene willow shall be my garlànd!

Let nobody blame me, her scornes I do prove;

O willow, &c.
She was borne to be faire: I, to die for her love,…2

The earliest version of the tune is to be found in a 1583

manuscript lute book in the library of Trinity College
Dublin. The version reproduced below on pp. 403–4 is
the contemporary setting in BL Add. MS. 15117, fo. 118
as reprinted in Sternfeld, 43–4. See also Sternfeld, 23–
52, for further discussion and other facsimiles and
transcriptions of the music; J. H. Long, Shakespeare’s
Use of Music (1971), 153–61; and Gooch and Thatcher,
op. cit. For Q’s omission of the song, see Texts, 10–11.
5.2 The original staging of 5.2 has been explained in two
different ways. (1) L. J. Ross suggested that a curtained
structure was placed on the main stage, in front of the
tiring-house façade (‘The use of a “fit-up” booth in
Othello’, SQ 12 (1961), 359–70). The bed was concealed
when the curtains were drawn (cf. 103, 363). The same
structure would be useful elsewhere – e.g. for the
‘discovery’ of the Senate at 1.3.0.1, or as the bulk of
5.1.1. (2) R. Hosley held that ‘the bed with Desdemona
lying in it is “thrust out” of the tiring-house by stage-
keepers … the bed curtains are manipulated as called
for by the dialogue; and when Lodovico says “Let it be
 hid” the bed, on which are now lying the bodies of
Desdemona, Emilia, and Othello, is “drawn in” to the
tiring-house through one of its doors’ (‘The staging of
Desdemona’s bed’, SQ 14 (1963), 57–65). Both kinds of
staging were possible, and we must not suppose that
staging at the Globe and, later, at the Blackfriars, was
identical: but note the clear SD in 2H6 3.2.146, ‘Bed
put forth’ (F). Othello’s light (5.2.0.1) = a candle.
5.2.83 SD Q stifles could = throttles; F Smothers =
suffocates (actors normally use a pillow). Cf. Marlowe,
Massacre (1.400), SD, ‘Now they strangle him’; Dekker,
Old Fortunatus (1600), where Andelocia is strangled on
stage (1.191). In some productions Desdemona was
smothered behind closed curtains (Rosenberg, 99,
113).
5.2.98–100 For supernatural manifestations before or after
an important death, common in classical literature, cf.
JC 2.2.13ff., Mac 2.4.1ff. Othello’s apocalyptic vision
here may be biblical in inspiration: ‘lo, there was a
great earthquake, and the sun was as black as
sackcloth … and the moon waxed all even as blood. And
the stars of heaven fell unto the earth’ (Revelation
6.12–13).
5.2.141 chrysolite sometimes glossed as topaz; ‘a name
formerly given to several different gems of a green
colour’ (OED). Lynda Boose thinks that Shakespeare
meant a ‘translucent white’ gem, as in the Genevan
Bible, Song of Solomon, Revelation 21.20 (‘Othello’s
“chrysolite” and the Song of Songs tradition’, PQ, 60
(1981), 427ff.). Cf. also Weakest Goeth to the Wall
(1600), C3a, ‘walles of purest Chrysolyte’.
5.2.251 Spain was famous for its fine swords (e.g. Toledo
blades). To temper = to strengthen metal by repeatedly
heating and cooling it: ice-brook (a coinage) could refer
to the cooling process. ‘Spanish rivers, such as the
 Tagus, being fed by melting snows, were considered to
be partly responsible for the quality of Spanish blades’
(Sanders). Q Isebrookes has been seen as a misreading
of Innsbruck (which exported fine metal to England),
and would be an easy misreading (Texts, 83–4); but this
would be a poor exchange for the evocative ice-brook, a
word perhaps connected with the ‘tempering’ that
Othello imagines in 275–8.
5.2.277–8 The ‘torment of the damned in hell’ was another
popular subject in Renaissance art. It may be thought
that to be blown about in winds would be a pleasant
change for anyone roasting in sulphur – but cf. the
similar vision of hell in MM 3.1.121ff., ‘To bathe in fiery
floods … To be imprison’d in the viewless winds / And
blown with restless violence round about / The pendent
world’.
5.2.336 Soft you Soft and But soft are common in
Shakespeare (Ham 1.1.126, 1.5.58, 3.2.392); soft you
(= not so fast) is rare. In this speech Othello’s sense of
his own unquestioned superiority shows through in his
attitude to the base Indian and the Turk: he adopts a
‘European’ view of darker-skinned races. Surprisingly
the only reference to Desdemona is as the pearl (but
see LN, 5.2.345, below): his speech is largely self-
centred.
5.2.345 Indian Both Q Indian and F Iudean have strong
support from discerning editors. Indian has been more
popular with editors, though Iudean was preferred by
Johnson and Malone. I list some of the arguments for
and against each. (1) For Iudean. Judas Iscariot is so
called because he was the Judaean disciple, unlike the
others, who were Galileans. The kiss of Judas as a
token of treachery was a commonplace (Matthew
26.49), hence 356; betraying Jesus, Judas threw away a
‘precious pearl’ (Matthew 13.46; in the Genevan Bible,
 ‘a pearl of great price’: see Noble, 92, 273). Judas, like
Othello, committed suicide. Others think that Iudean
could refer to Herod, who killed Mariamne, his ‘pearl’
of a wife (J. O. Holmer, ‘Othello’s Threnos: “Arabian
trees” and “Indian” versus “Judean”’, SSt, 13 (1980),
145–67).
(2) Against Iudean. The word ‘Judean’ was not in use in
Shakepeare’s time (R. F. Fleissner, ‘A clue to the “base
Judean” in Othello’, N&Q, 28 [1981], 137–8). The metre
of 345 requires Júdean, not Judéan. These objections
are not decisive, as Shakespeare often invented words
or changed their stress.
(3) For Indian. The wealth of India, and the ignorance of
Indians, unaware of the value of their gold and precious
stones, were commented on by Renaissance and earlier
writers. Pliny (34.17) mentioned Indians who barter
and undervalue pearls. For Shakespeare’s knowledge of
these commonplaces, cf. ‘as bountiful / As mines of
India’ (1H4 3.1.166–7) and ‘Her bed is India, there she
lies, a pearl’ (TC 1.1.100). Such passages mostly refer
to Indian Indians (e.g. Pliny), but Shakespeare could
have meant American Indians.
A different kind of evidence also supports Q Indian: the fact
that the second Folio (1632) switched from Iudean to
Indian. In general F2 followed the first Folio (F) closely,
introducing some corrections that are clearly
unauthorized (i.e. are based on neither Q nor F). F2
Indian shows that a near-contemporary, who was far
less interfering as an editor than the Q2 editor of 1630
(see Texts, 170), was dissatisfied with F Iudean: this
was one of his most striking corrections of his copy. On
the other hand, the F scribe corrected Q Indian to
Iudean; although F also miscorrected Q (ibid., 100), F’s
correction must carry some weight.
(4) Against Indian. The widely shared conviction that the
Folio is the ‘better text’ has no doubt influenced those
who argue for F Iudean. I have suggested that editors
overrated F’s reliability and underrated Q’s (ibid., 146),
which leaves the balance finely poised.
Conclusion. The best analysis is, I think, Richard Levin’s
‘The Indian/Iudean crux in Othello’ (SQ, 33 (1982), 60–
7), which ends with a telling point. It is appropriate for
Othello to compare himself with the Indian, whose
action results from ignorance, and ‘very inappropriate
for him to compare himself to Judas, whose action was
regarded as a conscious choice of evil’.
5.2.353 circumcised (?circumcisèd) Circumcision was a
religious rite with Muslims, so Othello’s contemptuous
reference to it implies that he ‘was not nor had ever
been a Mohammedan’ (Chew, 521n.). But it could be
simply a term of abuse, like ‘the uncircumcised’ in the
Bible. These lines may be influenced by 1 Samuel
17.26ff., ‘what is this uncircumcised Philistine, that he
should revile the host of the living God?’ (David of
Goliath); ‘I caught him by the beard, and smote him,
and slew him’ (David to Saul); ‘And the Philistine
[Goliath] said unto David, Am I a dog …?’
5.2.359 Spartan dog a kind of bloodhound. Applied to
men, bloodhound = a hunter for blood (OED 2). Envy,
Iago’s disease, was sometimes represented as a
snarling dog; Spartan may = unmoved, impassive,
inhumanely determined (like the Spartan boy who
carried a fox under his tunic, was bitten, and gave no
sign of pain). Cf. the hounds of Sparta that were used
to hunt bears (MND 4.1.112ff.).

1 Reprinted from Bishop Percy’s Folio Manuscript, ed. J. W. Hales and F. J.

Furnivall, 3 vols (1867), 2.320ff.
2 Reprinted from Percy’s Reliques, ed. G. Gilfillan, 3 vols (Edinburgh, 1858),
1.158ff.
 APPENDIX 1
Date
Othello must have been written at some time between 1601
and 1604. Holland’s translation of Pliny’s Historie of the
World (dated 1601 on the title-page; SR entry 20 May
1600) almost certainly supplied Shakespeare with much of
the play’s ‘foreign’ and exotic material; a performance at
court on 1 November 1604 provides the terminus ante
quem. Can we date the play more precisely? E. K.
Chambers thought in 1930 that a ‘production in 1604 is
consonant with the stylistic evidence’,1 and others have felt
that Othello is ‘Jacobean’. Useful as it is in assigning
Shakespeare’s plays to an approximate period, stylistic
evidence gives less help with precise dating; the ‘Jacobean’
feeling, moreover, expresses itself chiefly through Iago, and
one could argue that the romantic hero and heroine are
thoroughly ‘Elizabethan’. We are back where we started.
Alfred Hart offered a new suggestion in 1935:2 the ‘bad’
Quarto of Hamlet seems to echo Othello, just as it garbles
lines from many other plays. The bad Quarto was published
in 1603, and its text may have come into being some time
before 26 July 1602, the date on which James Roberts
entered Hamlet in the Stationers’ Register. Some editors
accepted Hart’s dating, others ignored it. Othello, said the
Cambridge 2 editors, J. Dover Wilson and Alice Walker, ‘can
hardly be later than early 1603, and may even belong to
1602’.3 The reason why others continued to date the play
as before, in 1603 or 1604, must be that some of Hart’s
‘echoes’ from Othello in the bad Quarto (Q1) of Hamlet are
not convincing, being phrases in general use. Some, but not
all: at least two echoes have to be taken more seriously.
 (1) ‘To my unfolding lend your prosperous ear’ (Oth
1.3.245) must be connected with ‘to my vnfolding / Lend
thy listning eare’ (Q1 Ham C3b, C4a). (2) The adjective
‘Olympus-high’ appears in both texts (Oth 2.1.186; Q1 Ham
I1b).
On their own these two echoes are arresting, though
perhaps insufficiently so to qualify as proof positive that
Othello influenced Q1 Hamlet. Hart, however, did not cite
all the relevant echoes. More have now been added.4
(3) The unusual name Montano, which replaces Reynaldo
in Q1 Hamlet. The only Montano in Shakespeare occurs in
Othello. This looks like unconscious substitution, perhaps
because the same actor played Montano in Othello and
Reynaldo in Hamlet. (4) In the closing moments of the two
tragedies almost the same thought is repeated: ‘Look on
the tragic loading of this bed’ (Oth 5.2.361) and ‘looke vpon
this tragicke spectacle’ (Q1 Ham I4a). Other echoes have
also been located, but we need not waste time on them.
Hart’s case seems to me to have proved correct: Othello
must have existed by early 1603, and probably before July
1602. As Holland’s Pliny printed a prefatory epistle dated
‘Iunij xij. 1601’ I conclude that Othello was probably
written at some point in the period from mid-1601 to mid-
1602.
How does this fit in with the ‘Shakespeare chronology’?
Othello is always placed later than Hamlet (c. 1600) and
earlier than King Lear (1605): the tragedies are so well
spaced that any date from 1601 to 1604 seems possible for
Othello. Again, Othello and Measure for Measure are
sometimes seen as twin plays, being based on the same
collection of stories, Cinthio’s Hecatommithi, and are
therefore dated close together, in 1603–4. Yet while editors
believe that some plays based on the same source were
written consecutively (e.g. Antony and Cleopatra and
Coriolanus), we know that others must be years apart (e.g.
Julius Caesar and Antony and Cleopatra). The date of
Measure for Measure, itself far from certain, should not
influence our dating of Othello; neither should the dates of
other plays that may belong to the years immediately after
the turn of the century (Merry Wives, Twelfth Night,
Troilus, All’s Well), for these too defy all efforts to date
them precisely.
Twelfth Night, though, may give some help, being related
to Othello in two ways. (1) Casting. The casting
requirements of the two plays are remarkably alike. So
many characters have an obvious counterpart in the second
play that Shakespeare must have had the same actors in
mind, intending to exploit their special talents. Thus: (a)
Orsino–Othello (a specialist in passion, despair, poetic
declamation); (b) Viola–Desdemona (a boy actor who
excelled in gentleness, suffering, romantic love); (c) Sir
Andrew Aguecheek–Roderigo (a comedian who played
foolish young gentlemen who are lovers and cowards); (d)
Maria–Emilia (a boy actor who was good in sharp
exchanges and plain speaking; an unromantic attendant);
(e) Feste–the Clown; (f) Sebastian–Cassio (the supporting
romantic lead). It would follow that other parts, less
obviously alike, were also intended for the same actor: (g)
Sir Toby–Iago; (h) Olivia–Bianca; (i) Fabian–Duke of Venice;
(j) Antonio–Montano. The only major character that fails to
fit in as obviously as the rest is Malvolio. I think that
Brabantio (and later Gratiano) might be taken by the
Malvolio actor (k), an older man (a specialist in rebuke,
anger, despair), or, just possibly, that the same ‘star’
(Burbage) played both Malvolio and Othello.5 In that case
some minor adjustments would follow in the casting lists:
Malvolio–Othello; Orsino–Cassio; Sebastian–Montano. Even
so, the special actor strengths of the two plays remain
surprisingly close, closer than in Othello and the adjacent
tragedies.
 Sir Toby and Iago, less self-evidently written for one actor
than most of the other parts, call for several similar talents.
Actor (g) could sing, roister in a drinking-scene, use his
sword, could play ‘the smiler with the knife under the
cloak’6 and, partnering boy actor (d) in a number of scenes
in each play, may have been the master to whom this boy
was apprenticed. Charles Gildon recorded in 1694 that he
had heard ‘from very good hands, that the Person that
Acted Jago was in much esteem for a Comoedian’,7 a piece
of gossip that confirms my casting and also throws light on
Shakespeare’s conception of Iago. While all the plays
performed by a professional company in the same season
had to be put on by the same group of actors, new plays
written by the company dramatist would naturally pay
more attention to the special talents of these actors than
one would expect in the case of revivals. This would apply
particularly to the parts written for boy actors, who could
only take leading roles for a very few years.
(2) A singing boy actor. The Willow Song, intended for a
boy actor who could sing, appears in F Othello but not in Q.
It was carefully removed from the Q text (which omits
4.3.29–52, 54–6, 59–62, and also 5.2.244–6) – why would
any sensible person wish to cut this song, so beautifully
expressive of Desdemona’s mood? The usual explanation is
that at the time of a later revival of Othello the leading boy
actor could not sing.8 As it chances, something similar
happened to a song in Twelfth Night, except that it was not
cut but transferred to a different actor.

It is almost certain from the insistence on Viola’s musical accomplishments at

I.ii.57–58 that she was meant to be a singer, and from the awkward opening
of II.iv that the song ‘Come away, come away death’ has been transferred
from her to Feste. We must therefore suppose that when the play was
originally produced the company had a singing boy who was no longer
available on the occasion of some revival.
 (Greg, 297)

Greg stated a widely shared view. If, however, Othello has

been postdated and was composed between mid-1601 and
mid-1602, the very period to which many assign Twelfth
Night,9 a simpler hypothesis now suggests itself. The boy
actor of Viola and Desdemona lost his voice earlier than
expected, when Shakespeare had recently completed the
two plays, and adjustments were hurriedly made in both, at
the same time. This hypothesis avoids a difficulty that Greg
(358 n. 9) noticed and tried to explain away: if Q Othello
derives from the author’s foul papers, or rough draft of the
play (see p. 359) – as Greg assumed and I have tried to
corroborate – why should changes introduced in a later
revival be marked in the author’s foul papers? The
alternative is to assume that the Willow Song and other
proposed cuts were lightly marked in the foul papers when
Othello was first prepared for performance, and that the
Folio scribe was later instructed to prepare a version of the
complete text, reinstating all cuts (see Texts, 101). On this
hypothesis the Willow Song, so far from being a special
case, fits into a general picture: the play’s textual history,
date and casting requirements all point to the same
conclusion.
Boys able to sing and to take leading dramatic parts
‘were not easily obtainable in the public theatres at the
beginning of James’s reign’, observed Richmond Noble,10
the author of Shakespeare’s Use of Song (1923), citing the
changes involving the songs in Twelfth Night and Othello.
‘If more evidence were wanted, we could turn to Cymbeline
and note in Act IV, scene 3 the clumsy device Shakespeare
had to adopt because Guiderius and Arviragus could not
sing.’ He continued:
I am convinced that the first performance of Hamlet, Twelfth Night (in its
original form), and Othello (as in the Folio) were not widely separated in
time. When these three plays were produced Shakespeare had at his
disposal a boy who could take a leading part and also sing ballads or
popular songs.

A boy fully trained to act and sing would be a competent

performer ‘perhaps for two years, but certainly not very
much longer’. Boy actor (b), it seems, was capable of
playing Ophelia in 1600; he was approaching the time
when his voice would break, but Shakespeare hoped that it
would last another season and wanted to exploit his special
gifts by creating two even more important roles for him,
Viola and Desdemona. The likelihood that Desdemona’s
character was partly determined by a boy actor’s ability to
sing and to play gentle, vulnerable roles (unlike the boy for
whom Shakespeare created Beatrice and Rosalind a season
or two earlier) is as interesting as Gildon’s story that Iago
was first performed by a comedian – where, again,
Shakespeare seems to have exploited the actor’s gifts,
making Iago something of a humorist (quite unlike
Cinthio’s Ensign).
If, then, Othello belongs to the winter–spring of 1601–2,
very much the same time as Twelfth Night, its relationship
with other contemporary plays needs to be reconsidered.
Heywood’s A Woman Killed With Kindness, for which
Henslowe paid £6 in February and March 1603, should be
seen as a reply to Othello rather than as the domestic
tragedy that prompted Shakespeare to move in this new
direction. On the other hand, Patient Grissel by Dekker and
others, probably first performed early in 1600, would be
closer to Othello than has been supposed, and this could
help to explain why Cinthio’s Disdemona becomes a more
pronounced ‘patient Grissel’ figure in Othello. Shakespeare
added episodes in which Othello rages at Desdemona and
she, not understanding his fury, reacts, some think, too
patiently (the letter episode, when he strikes her, 4.1.240;
the ‘brothel’ episode, 4.2.24ff.). A lost play about George
Scanderbeg, entered in the SR in July 1601, may have
influenced Shakespeare as well: Scanderbeg, a renegade
Christian, led Turkish armies against Christians, and
Othello could have been intended as a counter-attraction,
with a Moor starring as a Christian general against the
Turks.
James Roberts, who entered Hamlet in the SR on 26 July
1602, appears to have acted as the players’ agent on a
number of occasions.11 After the publication of the ‘bad’
Quarto of Hamlet (Q1) in 1603, Roberts printed the ‘good’
Quarto of 1604–5 that replaced Q1. The SR entry of 1602, I
deduce, was made to ‘block’ the publication of an
unauthorized text, since Roberts allowed two years to pass
before printing Hamlet, an immediately popular play. An
unauthorized text, it seems, was known or rumoured to
exist as early as 1602, and this text is likely (but not
certain) to have been the one printed in 1603 – the one that
contained echoes of many other plays,12 including Othello.
There are some steps in this reasoning that cannot be
proved but, all things considered, the evidence suggests
that Othello had been performed by mid-1602. I am aware
of no compelling evidence for a later date.
It is usually assumed that the ‘bad’ Quarto of Hamlet was
put together by a minor actor who had only a hazy
recollection of the text as a whole and who interpolated
many scraps of dialogue from other plays in which he had
acted. When could he have had a part in Othello? The years
1601 and 1602 were free of the plague. In 1603 playing
was ‘restrained during the illness of Elizabeth on 19 March
and probably not resumed’, as plague broke out in April
and continued for the rest of the year.13 Othello, then,
would have been performed not later than March 1603, a
terminus ante quem that again points to 1602 as the
probable year of the play’s first performance.

1 Chambers, William Shakespeare, 1.462.

2 Alfred Hart, ‘The date of Othello’, TLS, 10 October 1935, p. 631.
3 Cam2, xv.
4 See Honigmann, ‘Date of Othello’, and J. C. Maxwell, ‘Othello and the bad
Quarto of Hamlet’, N&Q, 21 (1974), 130.
5 I think it likely that the same actor (Heminges?) played Julius Caesar,
Polonius, Malvolio and Brabantio. He seems to have been good as a
performer of tiresome, self-important older men.
6 For the less favourable view of Sir Toby, see Twelfth Night, ed. E. A. J.
Honigmann (The Macmillan Shakespeare, 1971), 13–14.
7 See Chambers, William Shakespeare, 2.261.
8 Chambers, op. cit., 1.460.
9 Twelfth Night has sometimes been dated 1599 (see Texts, 175 n. 19). If the
performance of this play witnessed by John Manningham on 2 February
1602 (Chambers, op. cit., 2.327) was not the very first one, it would still be
very close in time to the proposed first performance of Othello; that is, the
same boy actor will have played both Viola and Desdemona at this time,
and this will have been the time when his voice broke and he could not sing
the songs in the two plays that were intended for him.
10 ‘The date of Othello’, TLS, 14 December 1935, p. 859.
11 This view of Roberts has been challenged, but seems to me the correct one
of Roberts and also of Edward Blount, who succeeded Roberts as the
players’ agent: see Texts, 174 n. 15.
12 For the echoes of other plays in Hamlet Q1 see G. I. Duthie, The ‘Bad’
Quarto of ‘Hamlet’ (Cambridge, 1941), and Alfred Hart, Stolne and
Surreptitious Copies (Melbourne and Oxford, 1942).
13 Chambers, Elizabethan Stage, 4.349.
 APPENDIX 2
The Textual Problem
Two early texts of Othello were published some years after
Shakespeare’s death in 1616: a Quarto (known as Q) in
1622, and a version included in the First Folio collection of
1623 (known as F). They differ in many hundreds of
readings – in single-word variants and in longer passages,
in spelling, verse lineation and punctuation. Ever since the
second Quarto of 1630 (Q2) editors have conflated Q and F,
that is, they have chosen readings from both, blending
them together as they saw fit. Although I have not checked
every recorded edition of the play, I think it probable that
no two editions are exactly alike and that no edition prints
the play exactly as Shakespeare wrote it.
Before I try to explain these extraordinary differences,
here is a brief description of Q and F. Q collates A2,
B=MM4, N2, and contains forty-eight leaves. The title-page
reads ‘THE Tragoedy of Othello, The Moore of Venice. As it
hath beene diuerse times acted at the Globe, and at the
Black-Friers, by his Maiesties Seruants. Written by William
Shakespeare. [Ornament] LONDON, Printed by N.O. for
Thomas Walkley, and are to be sold at his shop, at the
Eagle and Child, in Brittans Bursse. 1622.’ After an epistle,
‘The Stationer to the Reader’, signed ‘Thomas Walkley’, the
text follows on pages numbered 1 to 99. Walkley had
previously entered his ‘copy’ in the Stationers’ Register:
‘Thomas Walkley Entred for his copie vnder the hands of
Sir GEORGE BUCK, and Master Swinhowe warden, The
Tragedie of OTHELLO, the moore of Venice … vjd,.1
The F text of Othello was placed near the end of the
volume followed by only two more plays (Antony and
Cleopatra and Cymbeline). It occupies thirty pages, printed
in double columns; on the last page, after ‘FINIS’, it adds a
list of ‘The Names of the Actors’.
According to Charlton Hinman’s Through Line
Numbering,2 F consists of 3,685 lines, about 160 lines
more than Q. F’s additional lines include more than thirty
passages of 1 to 22 lines (all recorded in the textual notes);
amongst F’s more interesting additions we may mention
Roderigo’s account of Desdemona’s elopement (1.1.119–
35), Desdemona’s Willow Song (4.3.29–52, 54–6, 59–62 and
5.2.244–6) and Emilia’s speech on marital fidelity (4.3.85–
102). On the other hand, F’s omissions ‘are trifling’, said E.
K. Chambers, chiefly a few half-lines here and there, ‘and
doubtless due to error’.3
Both Q and F were press-corrected. Many of the
corrections merely adjusted loose type or spacing, and
these are not recorded by Arden 3. I have recorded all
corrections that affect meaning: such press-corrections do
not necessarily restore authoritative manuscript readings,
since press-correctors did not always refer back to the
manuscript. Each correction has to be judged on its merits.
More than fifty instances of ‘profanity’, printed by Q,
were deleted in F or replaced by less offensive words (e.g.
1.1.4, 32, 85, 107). Editors once assumed that F was
purged because of the Act of Abuses (1606), which
prohibited profanity and swearing on the stage, yet we now
know that some scribes and perhaps compositors omitted
profanity for other reasons (Texts, 77ff.). The censor of
Othello was unusually cautious if he deleted Tush (1.1.1)
and worried about other harmless expletives (2.2.10,
4.1.239), yet he also overlooked some profanity;
nevertheless the evidence of purging is clear enough.
Editors think that the profanity was Shakespeare’s (he
wrote the play before 1606), and revert to Q’s readings.
 Q and F divide the play into acts and scenes. Q only
numbers Acts 2, 4 and 5, and one scene (2.1); F numbers
the acts and scenes as in Arden 3, except that F’s 2.2
combines two scenes (2.2 and 2.3). Q, however, marked
scene endings with the usual Exeunt, and in effect initiated
the divisions adopted by later texts. As Q was the first of
Shakespeare’s ‘good quartos’ to be divided into acts, its act
divisions – like F’s – may have no authority.
Q stage directions are often fuller and more informative
than F’s (cf. 1.1.157; 1.3.0.1; 2.1.0.1; 5.2.195, 232), the
opposite of what one would expect if F was printed from a
prompt-copy, as was once supposed (Greg, 370). The Q
directions, said W. W. Greg (360), ‘might all have been
written by the author’, i.e. though fuller than F’s they do
not look like the essential information sometimes added in
prompt-books. In fact, both Q and F omit many necessary
stage directions.
Aware of so many differences between Q and F, how
should an editor proceed? He must try to account for the
differences: examining the detail of each text, he must
explain its provenance and transmission. ‘Provenance’
refers to the manuscript origin of the printed text: it could
be the author’s rough draft or ‘foul papers’, or an authorial
fair copy, or a scribal copy prepared for the theatre or for a
private patron or for the printer. Clearly ‘provenance’
already involves transmission; an editor, however, also
wants to know how many scribes and compositors copied
and set the text, and, if possible, their working habits. Both
scribes and compositors normally changed spelling and
punctuation at this time, and took other liberties with the
texts they ‘transmitted’. When William Jaggard, later to be
the printer of the First Folio, produced a reprint of The
Merchant of Venice in 1619, ‘the total number of variants
introduced [by Jaggard’s men] is something like 3,200’,
about one per line, mostly changes of spelling and
punctuation.4
The 1619 text of The Merchant of Venice, being a reprint,
gives the editor a less baffling challenge than the two texts
of Othello. All or almost all of its 3,200 variants can be
explained as conscious or unconscious compositorial
substitutions. In the case of Othello we have to ask whether
Q and F derive from a single authorial arch-text or from
two (e.g. foul papers and authorial fair copy); if from two,
some QF variants could be seen as Shakespeare’s first and
second thoughts. Again, since Q preceded F by a year,
could F have been printed from a corrected copy of Q? Or
could the F scribe or compositor have occasionally
consulted Q, perhaps because the F copy was illegible, thus
transplanting ‘common errors’ from Q to F? Editors agree
that some weak or nonsensical readings found in both Q
and F must be common errors: if so, other readings
vouched for by both Q and F, even though not self-evidently
corrupt, could also be Q mistakes taken over by F.
All the possibilities outlined in the preceding paragraph
have been backed by recent editors, and each one accounts
for the transmission of Q and F Othello in a different way.
Every theory of transmission, again, has its own
implications for editorial policy. It would not be easy to do
justice to all the editorial problems and suggested solutions
in this short appendix: instead of attempting the
impossible, I have prepared a companion volume, The Texts
of ‘Othello’, where there is enough space for a systematic
study of the textual detail. I propose, next, to summarize
the conclusions of the companion volume, and then to
indicate how they affect editorial decisions in Arden 3.

CONCLUSIONS
Soon after writing the foul papers of Othello (I call this
version manuscript A), Shakespeare made a fair copy
(manuscript B), changing some words and phrases but not
undertaking large-scale revision; that is, the longer
passages found in F and not in Q were not later additions,
but were present in A and subsequently cut. Professional
scribes copied out A and B, and their scribal manuscripts
(Aa, Bb) were used as printer’s copy for Q and F. The
sequence of the six early texts of Othello can be shown as
follows.

The broken arrow indicates that some Q readings also

found their way into F.

EDITORIAL DECISIONS
Misreading
So many QF variants disagree in only one or two letters
that misreading must account for the difference. Many such
words would be easily confused in Secretary hand, which
was used by Shakespeare in his six surviving signatures
and, as all editors assume, in writing his plays.5 A careful
analysis of these variants suggests, further, that
Shakespeare’s hand was often almost illegible, much more
so than in the three pages of Sir Thomas More, which were
probably written eight or nine years earlier. The final
letters of some words must have been an indistinct
scribble, sometimes a superscript scribble (e.g. your =
your), making it impossible to tell whether or not a letter
was intended. Hence the frequent omission or addition of
final r and t in Othello: you:your (1.1.79; 1.2.35; 3.3.40,
477; 5.2.262, 297); the:their (2.1.24, 45; 2.3.346; 3.4.146:
viz. their spelt ther, as in Sir Thomas More, D, 260);
worse:worsser (1.1.94), etc.; ouer:ouert (1.3.108);
againe:again’t (2.1.274); began:began’t (2.3.213); of:oft
(3.3.150); leaue … keepe:leaue’t … kept (3.3.207);
know:know’t (3.3.340); loose:loose’t (3.4.69); no:not
(4.1.60), etc. Almost as commonly, initial and medial letters
were omitted or confused, suggesting that Shakespeare’s
writing was difficult to read throughout and tailed off
illegibly at the ends of many words.
Other letters often confused or misread in Othello include
(1) minims (m, n, u, i, c, r, w); (2) a:minim; (3) e:d; (4) e:o;
(5) o:a; (6) t:e; (7) t:c; (8) th:y; (9) h:th; (10) medial r; (11)
the tilde, a suspension mark for m and n; (12) final y:e(e);
(13) final s – the commonest cause of misreading, with
more than one hundred variants in Othello. This is not a
complete list, but gives some idea of the scale of the
problem (for documentation, see Texts, ch. 8).
Since Q and F suffer from the same kinds of misreading
we may deduce that Shakespeare himself was the source of
the trouble. F has fewer obvious misreading errors, which
is what one would expect if Q derives from foul papers and
F from an authorial fair copy.

The Folio scribe

The hypothesis that it was Shakespeare’s own writing that
caused so much confusion is reinforced by the
identification of the scribe who copied out manuscript Bb.
A number of unusual spellings and his characteristic
apostrophes, hyphens, colons, etc. make it as certain as
such things can be that the scribe was Ralph Crane, who is
generally accepted as the scribe responsible for five other
Folio texts. Many dramatic and nondramatic manuscripts
survive in Crane’s hand, some with his signature: his
spelling and punctuation were so distinctive that other
printed plays are now recognized as ‘Crane transcripts’,
apart from the five Folio texts (e.g. The Duchess of Malfi,
1623). For our purposes the all-important point is this:
Crane, a professional scribe, wrote in a beautifully clear
hand, therefore the misreading in F Othello cannot be
blamed on an illegible manuscript (Bb) that defeated the
Folio compositors. It was Crane, not the Folio compositors,
who had to struggle to decipher a difficult manuscript – a
manuscript that led to the same kinds of misreading as we
find in Q. Again: the source of the trouble seems to have
been Shakespeare’s handwriting.

One arch-text or two?

Is it possible, though, that Q and F originated in the same
manuscript, rather than in two different authorial
manuscripts? Two reasons persuade me that we have to
reckon with two autographs. (1) Short alternative passages
in Q and F, too different to qualify as instances of
misreading, are accepted by many editors as authorial
revision. Such revision could conceivably survive in a single
authorial manuscript, except for one factor. W. W. Greg,
who analysed these passages and who did not subscribe to
the ‘two arch-texts’ hypothesis, concluded in several
instances that ‘The impression is of deliberate revision in F
rather than of corruption in Q’, ‘Everything therefore
points to F’s version having been reached by way of Q’s,
rather than Q’s being a corruption of F’s’ (364ff.). Greg was
impressed by the ‘Shakespearian quality of both versions’,
with Q always the earlier and F the better one. Is this not
strange? If Q and F both derive from a single authorial
manuscript and it was obvious to the F scribe that one set
of superior short passages replaced others that were
inferior, why was it not obvious to the Q scribe? The
simplest answer is that the Q scribe did not have access to
the superior passages, because he copied from a different
manuscript.
(2) F’s inferior variants prompt a second argument on
similar lines. Since the F scribe certainly had access to Q,
as we know from common errors and common mislineation
(Texts, 95ff.), why did he prefer inferior manuscript
variants which look like corruptions, when Q supplied him
with readings that later editors have thought undoubtedly
superior? Had this happened just once or twice one might
attach little significance to it, pleading in his defence that
he need not have compared every word in the two texts.
But it happened many times, and, as we have seen, he was
copying a difficult manuscript, one that often forced him to
resort to guesswork because he could not make out what
Shakespeare had written: all the more reason, then, for
checking Q’s reading, if only to save himself time. Why
should he waste his time attempting to decipher an illegible
manuscript when the correct reading lay at hand in Q? The
answer must be, I think, that Heminges and Condell had
directed him to do so. Handing Crane manuscript B
(Shakespeare’s fair copy), they would have expressed their
wishes roughly as follows. ‘We need a clearly written
manuscript of Othello for the Folio printer. Transcribe this
manuscript. It is not easy to read – if you can make nothing
of it, check the passage in this printed version [Q]. But
keep in mind that the printed version is full of errors: it is a
badly printed, unauthorized text [see Texts, 48–9]. Our
manuscript has a much more reliable text. Follow the
manuscript, as far as you can.’ Crane did as he was told:
when he thought that the scribble in the manuscript should
be read as worser or comes (1.1.94, 114), not worse or
come, as in Q, he preferred the manuscript reading. And,
because the manuscript was so difficult, he sometimes
thought he could make out words, indistinctly written, that
were not there (e.g. tongued, chances, instead of Q’s toged,
changes: 1.1.24, 71).

The ‘better text’?

Assuming, as above, that Crane knew Q to be an inferior
text and that he took some trouble to produce a better one,
an editor may want to treat F as the ‘better text’, and
therefore to follow F whenever Q and F readings are
equally acceptable. Yet this is a dangerous policy, for
several reasons. (1) Though he did his best, Crane clearly
misread some words, some F variants being very unlikely
(e.g. super-vision, 3.3.398, for Q superuisor). Consequently
other words, which are not so self-evidently wrong, could
be misreadings as well. (2) If Crane transcribed from an
authorial fair copy and Q was printed from a scribal copy of
the foul papers, we are not entitled to assume that, when Q
and F disagree, one or the other must be corrupt. Where
there are variant readings Shakespeare could have written
both: we know from Thomas Middleton’s holographs, and
from other authorial texts, that many poets replace words
when they transcribe their own work, either consciously or
unconsciously. Even quite trivial changes were common,
and many ‘indifferent variants’ in Othello may be instances
of such authorial instability (1.1.16 chosen:chose; 42 be
all:all be; 53 those:these). (3) Crane, and the Folio
compositors, regarded some contractions and the
uncontracted alternative as interchangeable, even when
this appears to damage the metre (e.g. Ile and I will, you’ve
and you have, ’t and it). An editor who retains F’s
contracted or uncontracted form must warn readers that it
may have to be lengthened or shortened or slurred, when
spoken aloud, to suit the metre. I have in general chosen to
follow F, not to correct the verse, because the alternative
would be to force the verse into a metrical straitjacket. But
when Q offers a variant that scans correctly (either the
contracted or the uncontracted form), Arden 3 adopts the Q
reading. In my view, Q rather than F is the ‘better text’ in
some respects – in its punctuation, in retaining profanity,
and in at least some of its stage directions and verbal
variants.
 Copy-text?
Yet F is better than Q in other respects – in its verse
lineation, and in being marred by fewer ‘manifest errors’
than Q. Would it be possible, then, to modify the traditional
editorial policy, and to treat F as copy-text for lineation,
and to make Q the copy-text for profanity and punctuation?
I believe that we should lean towards whichever text seems
better at lineation when we consider lineation, whichever
seems better at punctuation when we consider punctuation,
and so on: lean towards but not follow slavishly, since both
Q and F are sometimes self-evidently corrupt even in the
textual department in which they seem generally better.
Adopting this editorial position, Arden 3 is less committed
to either Q or F than previous editions, exercising more
freedom of choice. Nevertheless, because F transmits the
later authorial version and corrects many Q errors, Arden 3
leans towards F rather than Q in some instances of genuine
perplexity, particularly in dealing with indifferent variants
(a preference shared with most other editions of Othello).
We must acknowledge, however, that even this lesser
reliance on F is dangerous. Arden 3 follows F twenty-two
times in printing hath where Q prints has: yet there are
good reasons for suspecting that the F scribe, Ralph Crane,
substituted hath for has in Othello as in other texts (see
Texts, 68), and was responsible for many other indifferent
variants in F (including F’s regular handkerchief and
murther for Q’s regular handkercher and murder). In the
present state of knowledge we cannot be certain about
indifferent variants but it seems likely that Arden 3, though
far less committed to F as ‘copy-text’ than previous
editions, still prints scores – or perhaps hundreds – of F
variants that are scribal or compositorial substitutions, not
the words written by Shakespeare.

Syllabic changes
In Elizabethan English a large number of words could gain
or lose a syllable as the metre required. Some could be
either monosyllabic or disyllabic (notably words with -er-
and -en- syllables: heav(e)n, stol(e)n; nev(e)r, wheth(e)r,
etc., and also others: dev(i)l, spir(i)t; dear, fire, hour).
Others had a variable syllable for the endings -(i)on, -(i)ous,
-(i)an (e.g. jeal(i)ous, Venet(i)an). Arden 3 does not attempt
to regularize, leaving it to the reader to try out the
scansion and come to his or her own decisions, as with
other contractions (p. 364 above, ‘The “better text”?’).
Readers may stumble here and there, as Shakespeare’s
actors no doubt did, yet at the same time they will learn an
important lesson – that there is no single correct way of
speaking Shakespeare’s verse. The commentary offers help
when this is needed.

Lineation
Arden 3 prints as verse a number of passages usually
printed as prose. These are mostly short passages
embedded in verse (preceded and/or followed by verse)
which divide readily into lines consisting of ten or eleven
syllables, Shakespeare’s normal measure: e.g. 1.1.4–6;
3.3.316–19; 4.1.234; 5.1.121–3; 5.2.33–4, 68–70, 121–3. In
a few cases the decision to print verse rather than prose is
more problematic (3.1.32–41; 5.2.115, 138–9). It should be
remembered, though, that as Shakespeare experimented
with verse-like prose and prose-like verse, that the
difference between the two could be slight (2.1.178–80;
2.3.12, 61, 116; 4.2.175), and that, at the time of Othello,
Shakespeare was capable of writing odd-looking verse lines
(e.g. 3.1.48; 4.2.70; 5.2.279). In addition readers should
note that expletives, vocatives and interruptions were often
treated as extra-metrical (e.g. 1.1.4, 101; 1.3.173). The
rules or conventions governing dramatic verse – I have only
touched on a few – may be explored at greater length in
specialist studies.6
Since Q mislines so many undoubted verse passages as
prose and vice versa, wrongly divides verse lines and is
exceptionally insensitive to the verse measure, the textual
notes do not record Q’s variant lineation in every instance.
Where Arden 3 diverges from F’s lineation, this is
recorded.

Intended cuts?
Several ‘good’ texts of Shakespeare’s plays print lines that
were clearly meant to be deleted (sometimes they reappear
in the same text in slightly altered form). Shakespeare’s
deletions, it seems, were marked very lightly or not at all.
Othello includes lines and half-lines that are puzzling or
metrically irregular, the removal of which does not damage
the sense. They too could have been lightly marked
deletions printed in error (e.g. 1.1.20; 1.3.17; 3.1.47). One
four-line passage (4.3.63–6) looks like a false start
immediately replaced by 4.3.67–9. If Q printed intended
deletions, the F scribe could have copied them from Q.

Punctuation
On the evidence of Shakespeare’s three pages in Sir
Thomas More and of most of the ‘good’ quartos, editors
believe that Shakespeare punctuated lightly, and very often
omitted all punctuation. Both Q and F Othello punctuate
more heavily than the ‘good’ texts published in
Shakespeare’s lifetime: Arden 3 repunctuates, distrusting
the pointing of Q and F as post-Shakespearian (see Texts,
ch. 11).

Modernization
Every Arden 3 text has been modernized – what does this
mean? It does not mean that each text follows precisely the
same principles of modernization. To take one example,
modern texts almost certainly punctuate more heavily than
Shakespeare did, yet punctuation is a notoriously personal
matter, so it is unlikely that Arden 3 punctuation will be the
same from play to play; indeed, the same editor may choose
to punctuate more or less heavily in different passages of
the same play. Punctuation is partly a matter of feeling;
careful readers of Othello may feel – no, should feel – that,
here and there, they disagree with the editor’s pointing.
And why not?

The noise was high. Ha, no more moving?

Still as the grave. Shall she come in? were’t good?
I think she stirs again. No – what’s best to do?
(5.2.92–4, Ard3)

The noise was high. Ha! no more moving.

Still as the grave … Shall she come in, were’t good?
I think she stirs again …? – No. What’s best to do?

Both are possible, and readers should remember that the

editor’s choice of punctuation often rests on grounds that
could not be defended in a court of law.
Inevitably, the editor’s modernized punctuation affects
the ‘feeling’ of the whole play, in particular the flow of
thought from sentence to sentence. It could be that we
should not adopt the same pointing for dialogue and for
soliloquy (where the thinking process, more elliptical, may
need more dashes); or that the very different speech habits
of Othello and Iago require different kinds of punctuation.
Be that as it may, two things are clear. First, that the
function of Shakespeare’s dramatic words is often
impossible to define with certainty. A question mark, in his
texts, could indicate a question or an exclamation; the
absence of a question mark, on the other hand, does not
imply that no question is intended. There are questions and
half-questions (as, perhaps, at 5.2.94, above), just as there
are asides and half-asides:7 Shakespeare’s language breaks
all the rules of grammar and precedent. Second, because
he wrote performance scripts for actors, and because the
actors must have spoken quickly, Shakespeare did not have
to worry about the grammatical connections of words and
sentences: in the theatre the verbal flow rushes past us like
a fast-flowing river, and individual words are sometimes
scarcely more identifiable than drops of water in a rippling
current.
For these reasons a modernized text imposes a sharper
focus than Shakespeare probably wanted – for example, by
dividing dramatic speech into either prose or verse (see p.
367). A modern editor tidies the text, standardizing speech
prefixes and stage directions, eliminating Shakespeare’s
first or second thoughts, normalizing his famously unstable
spelling. Some editors even distinguish between ‘Oh’ and
‘O’ where, again, there is no evidence that Shakespeare did
so (compare Othello’s ‘Oh, oh, oh’ and ‘O, o, o’ in the
Quarto at 5.2.195, 279). Such tidying introduces new
difficulties: should we read ‘O insupportable, O heavy
hour!’ (5.2.97) or ‘Oh, insupportable! Oh, heavy hour!’? As
with other forms of modernization, this question will seem
more important to editors and readers than to actors in the
theatre.
The editor of Arden 3 Othello modernizes reluctantly,
with many reservations. Modern spelling and punctuation
make Shakespeare more accessible, at a cost – namely, that
we lose the Elizabethan flavour and suggestiveness of his
language, making Shakespeare our contemporary even
though his every word is around four hundred years old. It
is like cleaning an old picture and slightly changing all the
colours. In a few cases I refuse to modernize, since the
modern form of some words will positively mislead. ‘Count’
now has different connotations and will not mean the Day
of Judgement, therefore I retain F ‘compt’ (5.2.271); God is
not an engineer, therefore remains an ‘inginer’ (2.1.65).

A sample passage
Having summarized the textual policy of this edition, I shall
try to show how it affects editorial thinking in a sample
passage, 5.2.0ff. (see pp. 370–4). (1) The opening stage
direction differs in Q and F. Both texts omit essential
information: Arden 3 reprints both, and adds one word to F,
‘desdemona in her bed [asleep]’. Q supplies one other stage
direction, ‘He kisses her’, opposite lines 19 and 20, omitted
by F; Arden 3 expands this (see [8], p. 373). (2) Though Q
and F sometimes agree in their punctuation, they
frequently differ (six times in the first five lines). Arden 3
modernizes and repunctuates, on the assumption that both
Q and F are more heavily pointed than Shakespeare’s
manuscripts would have been. (3) F, in line with its practice
elsewhere, introduces many more ‘emphasis capitals’ than
Q. Even if Arden 3 were not a modernized text, we would
have to drop these capitals as post-Shakespearian.
Proceeding, next, to the verbal variants in the dialogue,
we notice (4) that many are graphically related, i.e. would
look very similar in Shakespeare’s hand (see p. 361 above,
‘Misreading’) – e.g. (citing Q first, then F) returne:re-Lume
(13), once:One (17, 19), when:where (22). (5) In two
instances the variants are graphically alike but differ in
their endings – cunning:cunning’st (11),
Desdemona:Desdemon (25) – which may mean that
Shakespeare’s writing tailed off into an indistinct squiggle,
one which might be misinterpreted (a) as standing for
illegible letters; or (b) as having no significance, even
though the writer intended it as one or two letters. Arden 3
adopts the F readings, taking Q’s ‘Desdemona’ as an
instance of (a) and ‘cunning’ as one of (b).
22 Quarto text of Othello 5.2.1–25
23 Folio text of Othello 5.2.1–25

But should we ascribe all the variants to the misreading

of a difficult hand? (6) Some variants in both Q and F
appear to be connected with other readings in the same
text. Q’s it and doth (15, 16) go together (third person), as
do F’s thee and dost (second person). If Shakespeare
revised these lines, perhaps he also omitted Q her selfe
(17) and added one more to the same line in F. Or is it
conceivable that the Q scribe or compositor misread his
manuscript, and was responsible for these and other Q
variants?
(7) Not all of F’s variants are clearly improvements.
‘When I haue pluck’d thy Rose’ (F) is less pleasing than ‘…
the rose’ (Q), and looks like final e:y misreading (Texts, 85).
‘It needs must wither’ (F) and ‘It must needes wither’ (Q)
could both be right. ‘Oh Balmy breath’ (F) may seem
preferable to ‘A balmy breath’ (Q) – until we recall that ‘A’
could stand for ‘Ah’, which again means that there is little
to choose between Q and F.
(8) A more striking difference occurs at lines 17 and 19,
where Q reads ‘once more … once more’, and F ‘One more,
[one more …] One more’. This is less likely to be revision
than minim-misreading, common in both Q and F. Most
editors have followed F, at the same time moving Q’s ‘He
kisses her’ from line 19 to line 15. Yet there is no textual
evidence for a kiss at 15, though Othello’s words reveal
that another action is needed at this point – ‘I’ll smell thee
on the tree; / O balmy breath …’. ‘Once more’ refers back
to this action, and to Othello’s highly developed sense of
smell. ‘One more [kiss]’ would be acceptable if a kiss had
preceded, ‘one more [smell]’ or ‘one more [sniff]’ less so,
for reasons that are not easy to explain. Here an editor may
choose to move Q’s stage direction, as editors do elsewhere
in Othello, and read ‘One more’ (with F) or may prefer Q’s
‘once more’. Arden 3 follows Q and adapts the stage
direction at line 19 to include smelling and kissing.
(9) It will be agreed, I think, that more of Q’s variants are
inferior than F’s. Are all of Q’s inferior readings
corruptions, though, or could some be Shakespeare’s ‘first
thoughts’, which he improved upon when he prepared his
fair copy? That is not so clear, and the question cannot be
decided from a single passage, as other passages that may
be revised occur in other scenes, and reinforce one another
(e.g. 1.3.261ff., 277ff.; 5.2.217–18). All local decisions
depend on other local decisions, and on the resulting
‘editorial policy’.

The textual notes

As will now be obvious, many of the textual problems of
Othello have not yet been solved. While we may think that
we can explain some – the disappearance of profanity from
F, ‘Crane’ spellings, anomalous lineation, misreading errors
– we cannot always distinguish between authorial revision
and scribal or compositorial substitutions: indeed, the more
trivial the variants the more difficult it becomes to guess
who was responsible and to make a reasoned choice
(compare 1.1.4 you will:you’l, 16 chosen:chose, 26 the:th’,
34 But:Why). Readers are therefore urged to pay special
attention to the textual notes: these record all significant
QF variants, and are printed conveniently below the text
and commentary, on the same page. The editor has done
his best, but editors are fallible. The small type at the foot
of the page may after all transmit the best reading. Here,
as elsewhere in this transitory life, the true men may lie
low while impostors parade themselves more openly.
N.B. The textual notes include unusual spellings and
other oddities that look like hangovers from the distinctive
writing habits of Shakespeare and of Ralph Crane. These
clues as to textual provenance are so numerous that it was
not possible to explain each one in the commentary, but
they are discussed in Texts, pp. 158ff. (Shakespearian
spellings), 63ff. (Crane’s spellings), and 68ff. (compositor
E’s retention of copy-spellings).

1 See Charlton Hinman, Othello 1622, Shakespeare Quarto Facsimiles, 16

(Oxford, 1975), v.
2 See Charlton Hinman’s Norton Facsimile of Shakespeare’s First Folio (New
York, n.d.), xxiv.
3 Chambers, William Shakespeare, 1.459.
4 D. F. Mackenzie, quoted Texts, 51.
5 See the reproductions of Secretary-hand minuscules and capitals in the
Arden 3 King Henry V (ed. T. W. Craik), pp. 103–4, which show how easily
letters could be confused and misreading could occur.
6 See Abbott, or George T. Wright’s more recent Shakespeare’s Metrical Art
(Berkeley, 1988).
7 For half-asides see Honigmann, ‘Stage direction’, 119–20, and Oth 2.1.213–
15.
 APPENDIX 3
Cinthio and Minor Sources
The principal source of Othello is the seventh novella in the
third decade of Giraldi Cinthio’s Hecatommithi (1565). A
French translation by G. Chappuys appeared in 1583, and
the first extant English translation not until 1753.
Chappuys kept close to the Italian version except for a few
details, and Shakespeare could have read one or the other,
or perhaps a lost English translation. The details that point
to his acquaintance with the Italian text consist of unusual
words or phrases not replicated in Chappuys, and are listed
in the commentary at 1.3.350 (acerb), 2.1.16 (molestation),
3.3.363 (ocular proof), and in the notes on Cinthio in this
appendix. Similar details, not found in the Italian text,
suggest Shakespeare’s possible acquaintance with
Chappuys: 1.3.220 (heart pierced), 3.3.300 (take out the
work), 4.1.196 (touch). The Italian words are more striking,
and the Othello ‘echoes’ of Chappuys could be explained as
coincidence.1 Yet a lost English version, one that perhaps
made use of both the Italian and the French texts, cannot
be ruled out. Lodowick Bryskett’s translations of various
works of Cinthio were published before and after Othello
was written,2 and a translation of Cinthio’s story of the
Moor of Venice could have reached Shakespeare in
manuscript. Not very long after composing Othello
Shakespeare returned to the Hecatommithi for one of the
sources of Measure for Measure.
M. R. Ridley said that ‘there are a few verbal parallels
which may be taken to suggest an acquaintance with the
original [i.e. Cinthio], but I do not think that they are very
significant’ (Ard2, xv). I have to disagree: whether we
consider Cinthio or Chappuys or a lost English version as
Shakespeare’s original, a surprising number of verbal
parallels found their way into the play from Cinthio, with or
without intermediaries – many more than Bullough listed in
his translation. Their significance grows as we piece
together the full jigsaw of borrowings – words, phrases,
episodes, ideas – for then we see that, even though
Shakespeare felt free to change whatever did not suit him,
Cinthio’s narrative supplied so much detail that in effect
Shakespeare allowed it to guide his view of crucial events.
The translation of Cinthio that follows has been
reprinted, with kind permission, from Geoffrey Bullough’s
Narrative and Dramatic Sources of Shakespeare, vol. 7, pp.
241–52. The footnotes, listing Shakespeare’s verbal and
other debts, are new. While, inevitably, some of these debts
are less compelling than others, their cumulative weight
seems to me considerable.

Cinthio’s Hecatommithi, modelled on Boccaccio’s

Decameron, consists of a series of short stories about
different kinds of love, chiefly married love. After an
introduction (ten stories) there follow ten decades, each of
ten stories, where the story-tellers explain how husbands
and wives should be chosen. In the introduction one man
argues that appetite should be ruled by reason (Oth
1.3.262–3, ‘not / To please the palate of my appetite’; 327–
9, ‘If the balance of our lives had not one scale of reason to
poise another of sensuality’), and that before marrying we
should consider ‘the quality, manners, life and habits’ of
possible partners (3.3.233, ‘Not to affect many proposed
matches / Of her own clime, complexion and degree’). He
denounces women who, pretending to be virtuous, hide
their ugly souls in ‘singing, playing, dancing … and
speaking sweetly’ (3.3.186–8, ‘’Tis not to make me jealous /
To say my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company, / Is free of
speech, sings, plays and dances well’). Although these are
commonplaces, I think it likely that Shakespeare glanced at
Cinthio’s introduction and at the pages that precede and
follow the story of the Moor of Venice.
Cinthio’s third decade revolves around the infidelity of
husbands and wives (cf. Oth 4.3.85–102). In the sixth story
a husband discovers his wife committing adultery, and
revenges himself by arranging her ‘accidental’ death. The
seventh story, which now follows, deals with a husband’s
revenge for supposed adultery and, again, the wife’s
‘accidental’ death. In short, Cinthio’s stories are
interlinked: the account of the Moor, Shakespeare’s
immediate source, which he read with concentrated
attention, no doubt led him to other parts of the
Hecatommithi.

THE THIRD DECADE, STORY 7

A Moorish Captain takes to wife a Venetian lady, and his
Ensign accuses her to her husband of adultery; he desires
the Ensign to kill the man whom he believes to be the
adulterer; the Captain kills his wife and is accused by the
Ensign. The Moor does not confess, but on clear indications
of his guilt he is banished; and the scoundrelly Ensign,
thinking to injure others, brings a miserable end on
himself.

The ladies would have had great pity for the fate of the
Florentine woman had her adultery not made her appear
worthy of the severest punishment; and it seemed to them
that the gentleman’s patience had been unusually great.
Indeed they declared that it would be hard to find any other
man who, discovering his wife in such a compromising
situation, would not have slain both of the sinners outright.
The more they thought about it the more prudently they
considered him to have behaved.
After this discussion, Curzio, on whom all eyes were
turned as they waited for him to begin his story, said: I do
not believe that either men or women are free to avoid
amorous passion,3 for human nature is so disposed to it
that even against our will it makes itself powerfully felt in
our souls.4 Nevertheless, I believe that a virtuous lady has
the power, when she feels herself burning with such a
desire, to resolve rather to die than through dishonourable
lust to stain that modesty which ladies should preserve5 as
untainted as white ermine. And I believe that they err less
who, free from the holy bonds of matrimony, offer their
bodies to the delight of every man6 than does a married
woman who commits adultery with one person only. But as
this woman suffered well-deserved punishment for her
fault, so it sometimes happens that without any fault at all,
a faithful and loving lady, through the insidious plots
[tesele] of a villainous mind,7 and the frailty of one who
believes more than he need,8 is murdered by her faithful
husband; as you will clearly perceive by what I am about to
relate to you.
There was once in Venice a Moor, a very gallant man,
who, because he was personally valiant9 and had given
proof in warfare10 of great prudence and skilful energy,
was very dear to the Signoria,11 who in rewarding virtuous
actions ever advance the interests of the Republic. It
happened that a virtuous Lady of wondrous beauty called
Disdemona,12 impelled not by female appetite but by the
Moor’s good qualities, fell in love with him,13 and he,
vanquished by the Lady’s beauty and noble mind,14
likewise was enamoured of her.15 So propitious was their
mutual love that, although the Lady’s relatives did all they
could to make her take another husband,16 they were
united in marriage and lived together in such concord and
tranquillity while they remained in Venice, that never a
word passed between them that was not loving.
It happened that the Venetian lords made a change in the
forces that they used to maintain in Cyprus; and they chose
the Moor as Commandant17 of the soldiers whom they sent
there. Although he was pleased by the honour offered him
(for such high rank and dignity is given only to noble and
loyal men who have proved themselves most valiant), yet
his happiness was lessened when he considered the length
and dangers of the voyage, thinking that Disdemona would
be much troubled by it. The Lady, who had no other
happiness on earth but the Moor, and was very pleased
with the recognition of his merits that her husband had
received from so noble and powerful a Republic, could
hardly wait for the hour when he would set off with his
men, and she would accompany him18 to that honourable
post. It grieved her greatly to see the Moor troubled; and,
not knowing the reason for it, one day while they were
dining together she said to him: ‘Why is it, my Moor, that
after being given such an honourable rank by the Signoria,
you are so melancholy?’
The Moor said to Disdemona: ‘The love I bear you spoils
my pleasure at the honour I have received, because I see
that one of two things must happen: either I must take you
with me in peril by sea, or, so as not to cause you this
hardship, I must leave you in Venice.19 The first alternative
must inevitably weigh heavily on me, since every fatigue
you endured and every danger we met would give me
extreme anxiety.20 The second, having to leave you behind,
would be hateful to me, since, parting from you I should be
leaving my very life behind.21
‘Alas, husband,’ said Disdemona, hearing this, ‘What
thoughts are these passing through your mind? Why do you
let such ideas perturb you? I want to come with you
wherever you go, even if it meant walking through fire22 in
my shift instead of, as it will be, crossing the water with
you in a safe, well-furnished galley. If there really are to be
dangers and fatigues, I wish to share them with you;4 and I
should consider myself very little beloved if, rather than
have my company on the sea, you were to leave me in
Venice, or persuaded yourself that I would rather stay here
in safety than be in the same danger as yourself. Get ready
then for the voyage in the cheerfulness23 that befits the
high rank you hold.’24
Then the Moor joyously threw his arms round his wife’s
neck and said, with a loving kiss: ‘God keep us long in this
love, my dear wife!’25 Shortly afterwards, having donned
his armour and made all ready for the journey, he
embarked in the galley with his lady and all his train; then,
hoisting sail, they set off, and with a sea of the utmost
tranquillity arrived safely in Cyprus.
The Moor had in his company an Ensign of handsome
presence but the most scoundrelly nature in the world.26
He was in high favour with the Moor, who had no suspicion
of his wickedness; for although he had the basest of minds,
he so cloaked the vileness hidden in his heart27 with high
sounding and noble words, and by his manner, that he
showed himself in the likeness of a Hector or an Achilles.28
This false man had likewise taken to Cyprus his wife, a fair
and honest young woman. Being an Italian she was much
loved by the Moor’s wife, and spent the greater part of the
day with her.
In the same company there was also a Corporal who was
very dear to the Moor.29 This man went frequently to the
Moor’s house and often dined with him and his wife.30 The
Lady, knowing him so well liked by her husband, gave him
proofs of the greatest kindness, and this was much
appreciated by the Moor.
The wicked Ensign, taking no account of the faith he had
pledged to his wife, and of the friendship, loyalty and
obligations he owed the Moor, fell ardently in love with
Disdemona,31 and bent all his thoughts to see if he could
manage to enjoy her;32 but he did not dare openly show his
passion, fearing that if the Moor perceived it he might
straightway kill him.33 He sought therefore in various ways,
as deviously as he could, to make the Lady aware that he
desired her. But she, whose every thought was for the
Moor, never gave a thought to the Ensign or anybody else.
And all the things he did to arouse her feelings for him had
no more effect than if he had not tried them. Whereupon he
imagined that this was because she was in love with the
Corporal;34 and he wondered how he might remove the
latter from her sight. Not only did he turn his mind to this,
but the love which he had felt for the Lady now changed to
the bitterest hate35 and he gave himself up to studying how
to bring it about that, once the Corporal were killed, if he
himself could not enjoy the Lady, then the Moor should not
have her either. Turning over in his mind divers schemes,
all wicked and treacherous, in the end he determined to
accuse her of adultery, and to make her husband believe
that the Corporal was the adulterer.36 But knowing the
singular love of the Moor for Disdemona, and his friendship
for the Corporal, he recognized that, unless he could
deceive the Moor with some clever trick, it would be
impossible to make him believe either charge. Wherefore
he set himself to wait until time and place opened a way for
him37 to start his wicked enterprise.
Not long afterwards the Moor deprived the Corporal of
his rank for having drawn his sword and wounded a soldier
while on guard-duty.38 Disdemona was grieved by this and
tried many times to reconcile the Moor with him.
Whereupon the Moor told the rascally Ensign that his wife
importuned him so much for the Corporal that he feared he
would be obliged to reinstate him. The evil man saw in this
a hint for setting in train the deceits he had planned, and
said: ‘Perhaps Disdemona has good cause to look on him so
favourably!’ ‘Why is that?’ asked the Moor.39 ‘I do not
wish’, said the Ensign, ‘to come between man and wife, but
if you keep your eyes open you will see for yourself.’40 Nor
for all the Moor’s inquiries would the Ensign go beyond
this:41 nonetheless his words left such a sharp thorn in the
Moor’s mind, that he gave himself up to pondering
intensely what they could mean.42 He became quite
melancholy, and one day, when his wife was trying to soften
his anger towards the Corporal, begging him not to
condemn to oblivion the loyal service and friendship of
many years just for one small fault,43 especially since the
Corporal had been reconciled to the man he had struck, the
Moor burst out in anger44 and said to her, ‘There must be a
very powerful reason why you take such trouble for this
fellow, for he is not your brother, nor even a kinsman, yet
you have him so much at heart!’
The lady, all courtesy and modesty, replied: ‘I should not
like you to be angry with me. Nothing else makes me do it
but sorrow to see you deprived of so dear a friend as you
have shown that the Corporal was to you. He has not
committed so serious an offence45 as to deserve such
hostility. But you Moors are so hot by nature46 that any
little thing moves you to anger and revenge.’
Still more enraged by these words the Moor answered:
‘Anyone who does not believe that may easily have proof of
it! I shall take such revenge for any wrongs done to me as
will more than satisfy me!’47 The lady was terrified by these
words, and seeing her husband angry with her, quite
against his habit48 she said humbly: ‘Only a very good
purpose made me speak to you about this49 but rather than
have you angry with me I shall never say another word on
the subject.’50
The Moor, however, seeing the earnestness with which
his wife had again pleaded for the Corporal,51 guessed that
the Ensign’s words had been intended to suggest that
Disdemona was in love with the Corporal, and he went in
deep depression to the scoundrel and urged him to speak
more openly.52 The Ensign, intent on injuring this
unfortunate lady, after pretending not to wish to say
anything53 that might displease the Moor, appeared to be
overcome by his entreaties and said: ‘I must confess that it
grieves me greatly54 to have to tell you something that
must be in the highest degree painful to you; but since you
wish me to tell you, and the regard that I must have of your
honour as my master spurs me on, I shall not fail in my
duty55 to answer your request. You must know therefore
that it is hard for your Lady to see the Corporal in disgrace
for the simple reason that she takes her pleasure with him
whenever he comes to your house. The woman has come to
dislike your blackness.’56
These words struck the Moor’s heart to its core;57 but in
order to learn more (although he believed what the Ensign
had said to be true, through the suspicion already sown in
his mind) he said, with a fierce look: ‘I do not know what
holds me back from cutting out that outrageous tongue of
yours58 which has dared to speak such insults against my
Lady!’59 Then the Ensign: ‘Captain,’ he said, ‘I did not
expect any other reward60 for my loving service; but since
my duty and my care for your honour have carried me so
far, I repeat that the matter stands exactly as you have just
heard it, and if your Lady, with a false show of love for you,
has so blinded your eyes that you have not seen what you
ought to have seen, that does not mean that I am not
speaking the truth. For this Corporal has told me all, like
one whose happiness does not seem complete until he has
made someone else acquainted with it.’61 And he added: ‘If
I had not feared your wrath, I should, when he told me,
have given him the punishment he deserved by killing
him.62 But since letting you know what concerns you more
than anyone else63 brings me so undeserved a reward, I
wish that I had kept silent,64 for by doing so I should not
have fallen into your displeasure.’
Then the Moor, in the utmost anguish, said, ‘If you do not
make me see with my own eyes65 what you have told me,
be assured, I shall make you realize that it would have been
better for you had you been born dumb.’66 ‘To prove it
would have been easy’, replied the villain, ‘when he used to
come to your house; but now when, not as it should have
been, but for the most trivial cause, you have driven him
away, it cannot but be difficult for me,67 for although I
fancy that he still enjoys Disdemona whenever you give him
the opportunity, he must do it much more cautiously than
he did before,68 now that he knows you have turned against
him. Yet I do not lose hope of being able to show you what
you do not wish to believe.’ And with these words they
parted.
The wretched Moor, as if struck by the sharpest of
darts,69 went home to wait for the day when the Ensign
would make him see that which must make him miserable
for ever. But no less trouble did the Ensign suffer by his
knowledge of the Lady’s chastity, for it did not seem
possible to find a way70 of making the Moor believe what
he had falsely told him, till, his thoughts twisting and
turning in all directions, the scoundrel thought of a new
piece of mischief.
The Moor’s wife often went, as I have said, to the house
of the Ensign’s wife, and stayed with her a good part of the
day; wherefore seeing that she sometimes carried with her
a handkerchief embroidered most delicately in the Moorish
fashion,71 which the Moor had given her and which was
treasured by the Lady and her husband too,72 the Ensign
planned to take it from her secretly, and thereby prepare
her final ruin. He had a little girl of three years old, much
loved by Disdemona. One day, when the unfortunate Lady
had gone to pass some time at the villain’s house, he took
the child in his arms and carried her to the Lady, who took
her and pressed her to her breast. The deceiver, who had
great sleight of hand, lifted the handkerchief from her
girdle so warily that she did not notice it; and he took his
leave of her in great joy.
Disdemona, knowing nothing of it, went back home and,
being occupied with other thoughts, did not miss the
handkerchief. But a few days later, she looked for it, and
not finding it she became afraid that the Moor might ask
for it, as he often did. The wicked Ensign, seizing a suitable
opportunity, went to the Corporal’s room,73 and with
cunning malice left the handkerchief at the head of his bed.
The Corporal did not notice it till the next morning when,
getting out of bed, he put his foot upon the handkerchief,
which had fallen to the floor. Not being able to imagine how
it had come into his house, and knowing that it was
Disdemona’s,74 he determined to give it back to her. So he
waited till the Moor had gone out, then went to the back
door and knocked. Fortune, it seems, had conspired with
the Ensign75 to bring about the death of the unhappy lady;
for just then the Moor came home, and hearing a knock on
the door went to the window and shouted angrily: ‘Who is
knocking?’ The Corporal, hearing the Moor’s voice and
fearing that he might come down and attack him, fled
without answering.76 The Moor ran down the stairs, and
opening the outside door went out into the street and
looked around, but could see nobody. Then returning full of
evil passion, he asked his wife who had knocked77 on the
door below.
The Lady replied truthfully that she did not know. The
Moor then said, ‘It looked to me like the Corporal.’78 ‘I do
not know’, she said, ‘whether it was he or somebody else.’
The Moor restrained his fury, though he was consumed
with rage. He did not want to do anything before consulting
the Ensign, to whom he went at once and told him what
had occurred, praying him to find out from the Corporal all
that he could about it. Delighted with what had happened,
the Ensign promised to do so. Accordingly he spoke to the
Corporal one day while the Moor was standing where he
could see them as they talked;79 and chatting of quite other
matters than the Lady, he laughed heartily80 and,
displaying great surprise, he moved his head about and
gestured with his hands, acting as if he were listening to
marvels. As soon as the Moor saw them separate he went
to the Ensign to learn what the other had told him;81 and
the Ensign, after making him entreat him for a long time,
finally declared: ‘He has hidden nothing from me. He tells
me that he has enjoyed your wife every time you have given
them the chance by your absence.82 And on the last
occasion she gave him the handkerchief which you gave
her as a present when you married her.’83 The Moor
thanked the Ensign and it seemed obvious to him that if he
found that the Lady no longer had the handkerchief, then
all must be as the Ensign claimed.84
Wherefore one day after dinner,85 while chatting with the
Lady on various matters, he asked her for the handkerchief.
The unhappy woman,86 who had greatly feared this, grew
red in the face at the request, and to hide her blushes
(which the Moor well noted), she ran to the chest,
pretending to look for it. After much search, ‘I do not
know’, she said, ‘why I cannot find it;87 perhaps you have
had it?’ ‘If I had had it,’ said he, ‘why should I ask for it?
But you will look more successfully another time.’
Leaving her the Moor began to think how he might kill
his wife,88 and the Corporal too, in such a way that he
would not be blamed for it. And since he was obsessed with
this, day and night, the Lady inevitably noticed that he was
not the same towards her as he was formerly.89 Many times
she said to him, ‘What is the matter with you?90 What is
troubling you? Whereas you used to be the gayest of men,
you are now the most melancholy man alive!’91
The Moor invented various excuses,92 but she was not at
all satisfied, and although she knew no act of hers which
could have so perturbed the Moor,93 she nevertheless
feared that through the abundance of lovemaking which he
had with her he might have become tired of her.94
Sometimes she would say to the Ensign’s wife, ‘I do not
know what to make of the Moor. He used to be all love
towards me95 but in the last few days he has become quite
another man;96 and I fear greatly that I shall be a warning
to young girls not to marry against their parents’ wishes;
and Italian ladies will learn by my example not to tie
themselves to a man whom Nature, Heaven, and manner of
life separate from us.97 But because I know that he is very
friendly with your husband, and confides in him, I beg you,
if you have learned anything from him which you can tell
me, that you will not fail to help me.’98 She wept bitterly as
she spoke.
The Ensign’s wife, who knew everything (for her husband
had wished to use her as an instrument in causing the
Lady’s death,99 but she had never been willing to consent),
did not dare, for fear of her husband, to tell her
anything.100 She said only: ‘Take care not to give your
husband any reason for suspicion, and try your hardest to
make him realize your love and loyalty.’101 ‘That indeed I
do,’ said Disdemona, ‘but it does not help.’
In the meantime the Moor sought in every way to get
more proof102 of that which he did not wish to discover, and
prayed the Ensign to contrive to let him see the
handkerchief in the Corporal’s possession; and although
that was difficult for the villain, he promised nonetheless to
make every effort to give him this testimony.
The Corporal had a woman at home who worked the most
wonderful embroidery on lawn, and seeing the
handkerchief and learning that it belonged to the Moor’s
wife, and that it was to be returned to her, she began to
make a similar one103 before it went back. While she was
doing so, the Ensign noticed that she was working near a
window where she could be seen by whoever passed by on
the street. So he brought the Moor and made him see
her,104 and the latter now regarded it as certain105 that the
most virtuous Lady was indeed an adulteress. He arranged
with the Ensign to kill her and the Corporal and they
discussed how it might be done. The Moor begged the
Ensign to kill the Corporal,106 promising to remain
eternally grateful to him. The Ensign refused to undertake
such a thing,107 as being too difficult and dangerous, for
the Corporal was as skilful as he was courageous; but after
much entreaty, and being given a large sum of money,108
he was persuaded to say that he would tempt Fortune.
Soon after they had resolved on this, the Corporal,
issuing one dark night from the house of a courtesan with
whom he used to amuse himself, was accosted by the
Ensign, sword in hand,109 who directed a blow at his legs to
make him fall down; and he cut the right leg entirely
through, so that the wretched man fell.110 The Ensign was
immediately on him to finish him off, but the Corporal, who
was valiant and used to blood and death, had drawn his
sword, and wounded as he was he set about defending
himself, while shouting in a loud voice: ‘I am being
murdered!’111
At that the Ensign, hearing people come running,
including some of the soldiers who were quartered
thereabouts, began to flee, so as not to be caught there;
then, turning back he pretended to have run up on hearing
the noise.112 Mingling with the others, and seeing the leg
cut off, he judged that if the Corporal were not already
dead, he soon would die of the wound, and although he
rejoiced inwardly, he outwardly grieved for the Corporal113
as if he had been his own brother.114
In the morning, news of the affray was spread throughout
the city and reached the ears of Disdemona; whereupon,
being tender-hearted and not thinking that evil would come
to her by it, she showed the utmost sorrow at the
occurrence.115 On this the Moor put the worst possible
construction.116 Seeking out the Ensign, he said to him: ‘Do
you know, my imbecile of a wife is in such grief about the
Corporal’s accident that she is nearly out of her mind!’8
‘How could you expect anything else?’ said the other, ‘since
he is her very life and soul?’
‘Soul indeed!’ replied the Moor, ‘I’ll drag the soul from
her body,117 for I couldn’t think myself a man118 if I didn’t
rid the world of such a wicked creature.’119
They were discussing whether the Lady should perish by
poison or the dagger,120 and not deciding on either of
them, when the Ensign said: ‘A method has come into my
head that will satisfy you and that nobody will suspect. It is
this: the house where you are staying is very old, and the
ceiling of your room has many cracks in it. I suggest that
we beat Disdemona with a stocking filled with sand until
she dies. Thus there will not appear on her any sign of the
blows. When she is dead, we shall make part of the ceiling
fall; and we’ll break the Lady’s head, making it seem that a
rafter has injured it in falling, and killed her. In this way
nobody will feel any suspicion of you, for everyone will
think that she died accidentally.’
The cruel plan pleased the Moor,121 and they waited for a
suitable opportunity. One night the Moor concealed the
Ensign in a closet which opened off the bedchamber, and
when the husband and wife were in bed, the Ensign, in
accordance with their plan, made some sort of noise.
Hearing it the Moor said to his wife: ‘Did you hear that
noise?’
‘Yes, I heard it’, she replied.
‘Get up’, said the Moor, ‘and see what it is.’122

The unfortunate Disdemona got out of bed, and as soon as

she was near the closet, the Ensign came out and, being
strong and muscular, he gave her a frightful blow in the
small of her back, which made the Lady fall down at once,
scarcely able to draw her breath. With the little voice she
had she called on the Moor to help her.123 But he, jumping
out of bed, said to her, ‘You wicked woman,124 you are
having the reward of your infidelity. This is how women are
treated who, pretending to love their husbands, put horns
on their heads.’
The wretched Lady, hearing this and feeling herself near
to death (for the Ensign had given her another blow), called
on Divine Justice to witness to her fidelity, since earthly
justice failed;125 and as she called on God to help her, a
third blow struck her, and she lay still,126 slain by the
impious Ensign. Then, placing her in the bed, and breaking
her skull, he and the Moor made the ceiling fall as they had
previously planned, and the Moor began to call for help,127
that the house was falling. Hearing his cries the neighbours
ran in and found the bed, and the Lady dead128 under the
rafters – which made everyone grieve, for they knew what a
good life she had led.6
Next day Disdemona was buried, amid the universal
mourning of the people. But God, the just observer of men’s
hearts, did not intend such vile wickedness to go without
proper punishment.129 He ordained that the Moor, who had
loved the Lady more than his life,130 on finding himself
deprived of her should feel such longing that he went about
like one beside himself, searching for her in every part of
the house.131 Realizing now that the Ensign was the cause
of his losing his Lady and all joy in life, he held the villain in
such abhorrence that he could not bear even to see him;
and if he had not been afraid of the inviolable justice of the
Venetian lords, he would have slain him openly. Not being
able to do this with safety, he took away his rank and would
not have him in his company, whereupon such a bitter
hatred sprang up between them that no greater or more
deadly feud could be imagined.132
The Ensign, that worst of all scoundrels, therefore set all
his mind to injuring the Moor, and seeking out the
Corporal, who had now recovered and went about with a
wooden leg instead of the one that had been cut off, he said
to him, ‘It is time you got your revenge for the leg you lost.
If you will come to Venice with me, I shall tell you who the
miscreant was, for here I dare not tell you, for many
reasons; and I am willing to bear witness for you in court.’
The Corporal who felt himself deeply wronged but did not
know the real truth, thanked the Ensign and came with him
to Venice. When they arrived there the Ensign told him that
it was the Moor who had cut off his leg because of a
suspicion he had formed that he was Disdemona’s lover,
and that for the same reason he had murdered her, and
afterwards made it known that the fallen ceiling had killed
her. Hearing this, the Corporal accused the Moor to the
Signoria,133 both of cutting off his leg and of causing the
Lady’s death, and called as witness the Ensign, who said
that both accusations were true, for the Moor had
approached him and tried to induce him to commit both
crimes; and that, having then killed his wife through the
bestial jealousy that he had conceived in his mind, he had
told him how he had killed her.
When the Signoria learned of the cruelty inflicted by the
Barbarian134 upon a citizen of Venice, they ordered the
Moor to be apprehended in Cyprus and to be brought to
Venice,135 where with many tortures they tried to discover
the truth. But enduring with great steadfastness of mind
every torment, he denied everything so firmly that nothing
could be extorted from him. Although by his constancy he
escaped death, he was, however, after many days in prison,
condemned to perpetual exile, in which he was finally slain
by Disdemona’s relatives, as he richly deserved.
The Ensign returned to his own country; and not giving
up his accustomed behaviour, he accused one of his
companions, saying that the latter had sought to have him
murder one of his enemies, who was a nobleman. The
accused man was arrested and put to the torture, and when
he denied that what his accuser said was true, the Ensign
too was tortured, to compare their stories; and he was
tortured so fiercely that his inner organs were ruptured.136
Afterwards he was let out of prison and taken home, where
he died miserably. Thus did God avenge the innocence of
Disdemona. And all these events were told after his death
by the Ensign’s wife, who knew the facts137 as I have told
them to you.
[Story 8 is (as usual) prefaced by a linking passage
commenting on the tale just heard:]
It appeared marvellous to everybody that such malignity
could have been discovered in a human heart; and the fate
of the unhappy Lady138 was lamented, with some blame for
her father, who had given her a name of unlucky augury.139
And the party decided that since a name is the first gift of a
father to his child, he ought to bestow one that is grand
and fortunate, as if he wished to foretell success and
greatness. No less was the Moor blamed, who had believed
too foolishly.140 But all praised God because the criminals
had had suitable punishment.

No doubt Shakespeare’s departures from Cinthio were

carefully considered. Some were dictated by the exigencies
of staging (Disdemona’s death, the Ensign’s 3-year-old
daughter). Others resulted from Shakespeare’s wish to
compress and concentrate (the double time scheme, the
accelerated ending) – the very opposite, be it noted, of
what we find in Hamlet and King Lear. But Shakespeare’s
greatest effort went into his characterization, converting
Cinthio’s stereotype men and women, who exist only as plot
mechanisms, into individuals interesting in themselves.
Shakespeare’s imagination also seized on many details,
some of them barely hinted at by Cinthio, and conjured
gold out of dross (the threat from ‘the Turk’, the imagery of
sea and water, a generalized sexual antagonism). The
handkerchief becomes a crucial exhibit in the play’s
treatment of ‘chance’, and also brings with it glimpses of
the Egyptian and sibyl, and of Othello’s father and mother
(3.4.57ff.). One can usually see good reasons for
Shakespeare’s changes (the development of Brabantio and
the addition of Roderigo), or at any rate reasons (the
addition of the Clown: the clown actor, a popular performer,
had to have a part). Now and then, though, we may feel
that Shakespeare might have tried harder to break free
from Cinthio, as in the eavesdropping episode (4.1.93ff.).
Readers will find it rewarding to compare the play and
Cinthio in greater detail.
Apart from Cinthio, many other writers and ‘sources’
contributed to Othello. (I am not convinced that
Shakespeare read Bandello in Italian, as has been
suggested, since there are English sources for
Desdemona’s revival after being smothered.)141 These are
mentioned at various points in the introduction and
commentary, and can be traced with the help of the index:
John Leo, Pliny, Lewis Lewkenor (the translator of
Contarini), Lyly, Marlowe, Arden of Faversham, A Warning
for Fair Women, Every Man in His Humour, Every Man out
of His Humour, Terence, Plautus, Ovid, Rabelais, the Bible,
popular ballads, songs and proverbs, and the scenic form
and characters in Shakespeare’s own earlier plays, notably
Titus Andronicus, Much Ado and Twelfth Night.142 Anyone
who thinks of Othello as a short story blown up beyond its
capacity should keep in mind that Shakespeare packed into
it much miscellaneous reading as well as something not far
removed from research, his perusal of very recent books on
the Mediterranean world, on north Africa and on Venice.

1 See Honigmann, ‘Othello, Chappuys and Cinthio’, N&Q, 13 (1966), 136–7;

and Naseeb Shaheen, ‘Shakespeare’s knowledge of Italian’, SS, 47 (1994),
161ff., and below, pp. 396–7.
2 See Barnabe Riche His Farewell to Military Profession, ed. Donald Beecher
(New York, Publications of the Barnabe Riche Society, vol. 1, 1992), 50–1.
3 3.3.279, ‘’Tis destiny unshunnable, like death’.
4 2.1.231–3, ‘very nature will instruct her in it and compel her to some second
choice’.
5 4.3.60–1, ‘Dost thou in conscience think … That there be women do abuse
their husbands…?’
6 3.3.348–9, ‘I had been happy if the general camp … had tasted her sweet
body’.
7 4.1.46–7, ‘many worthy and chaste dames even thus, / All guiltless, meet
reproach’.
8 5.2.342, ‘Of one that loved not wisely, but too well’.
9 1.3.49, ‘Valiant Othello’ (It. molto valoroso; Fr. fort vaillant).
10 1.1.27, ‘of whom his eyes had seen the proof’ (Iago).
11 1.3.129, ‘Her father loved me’ (It. caro a que signori; Fr. aymé des
seigneurs).
12 2.1.61–2, ‘a maid / That paragons description’.
13 1.3.262–3, ‘not / To please the palate of my appetite’ (Othello).
14 1.3.253, ‘I saw Othello’s visage in his mind’; 266, ‘to be free and bounteous
to her mind’.
15 1.3.168–9, ‘She loved me … And I loved her’.
16 Brabantio in Act 1; 4.2.127, ‘Hath she forsook so many noble matches?’
17 1.2.53, ‘Come, captain’ (It. capitano; Fr. capitaine and chef).
18 1.3.260, ‘Let me go with him.’
19 1.3.256, ‘if I be left behind’.
20 2.1.2; 46, ‘I have lost him on a dangerous sea’; 16, ‘never did like
molestation view’ (It. estrema molestia).
21 1.3.295, ‘My life upon her faith.’
22 1.3.168, ‘She loved me for the dangers I had passed’; 249, ‘That I did love
the Moor to live with him’.
23 1.3.233, ‘A natural and prompt alacrity’ (It. allegrezza).
24 1.3.240, ‘As levels with her breeding’ (of Desdemona).
25 2.1.180; 191–3, ‘But that our loves and comforts should increase’.
26 4.2.141–2, ‘abused by some most villainous knave, / Some base notorious
knave’.
27 3.3.110–11, ‘some monster in thy thought / Too hideous to be shown’;
3.3.139, ‘Utter my thoughts? Why, say they are vile and false?’
28 1.1.12–13, ‘a bombast circumstance’; 2.1.221–2, ‘bragging … prating’ (of
Othello).
29 3.1.49, ‘he protests he loves you’; 3.3.48.
30 3.3.58, ‘Tomorrow dinner then?’
31 2.1.289, ‘Now I do love her too’.
32 1.3.358, ‘thou shalt enjoy her’.
33 3.3.362ff.
34 2.1.231; 285, ‘That she loves him, ’tis apt’.
35 3.3.448–9, ‘All my fond love thus do I blow to heaven … ’Tis gone’ (Othello)
(It. acerbissimo odio: cf. 1.3.349–50, ‘acerb as coloquintida’).
36 1.3.391; 2.1.310.
37 3.3.249, ‘Leave it to time’; 2.3.294–5, ‘the time, the place’.
38 2.3.147ff., 239.
39 3.3.179, ‘why is this?’
40 3.3.200, ‘Look to your wife, observe her well’.
41 3.3.262, 362ff.
42 3.3.111, ‘Thou dost mean something’; 157, ‘What dost thou mean?’
43 3.3.18, ‘My general will forget my love and service’; 64–6, ‘his trespass … is
not, almost, a fault’.
44 3.4.133, ‘Is my lord angry?’
45 3.4.116, ‘If my offence be of such mortal kind’.
46 3.4.30–1, ‘the sun where he was born / Drew all such humours from him’.
47 3.3.446, ‘my revenge’; 393, ‘Would I were satisfied!’
48 3.4.125, ‘My lord is not my lord, nor should I know him’.
49 3.3.76–80.
50 5.2.301, ‘From this time forth I never will speak word’ (Iago).
51 3.3.54; 3.4.89ff.
52 3.3.135–6, ‘give thy worst of thoughts / The worst of words’.
53 3.3.147.
54 2.3.173, ‘Honest Iago, that look’st dead with grieving’.
55 3.3.137; 197, ‘To show the love and duty that I bear you’.
56 (Lit., to tire of your blackness; Fr., ‘qui est déia ennuyée de vostre taint
noir’) 1.3.350–1, ‘She must change … sated with his body’; 3.3.267, ‘Haply
for I am black’.
57 (It. passorono il cuore; Fr. transpercèrent le coeur) 1.3.219–20, ‘But words
are words … That the bruised heart was pierced through the ear’.
58 2.3.217, ‘I had rather have this tongue cut from my mouth’ (Iago).
59 3.3.362–6.
60 3.3.382, ‘I thank you for this profit’.
61 4.1.25–9, ‘knaves … [who] cannot choose / But they must blab’.
62 1.2.3–10.
63 4.1.195–6, ‘if it touch not you it comes near nobody’ (It. appartiene; Fr., ‘ce
qui vous touche plus qu’à aucun autre’).
64 3.3.395, ‘I do repent me that I put it to you.’
65 3.3.363, ‘give me the ocular proof’ (It. vedere co gl’occhi; Fr. voir).
66 3.3.365, ‘Thou hadst been better have been born a dog’.
67 3.3.400–5, ‘It were a tedious difficulty … To bring them to that prospect.’
68 3.3.422, ‘… “Let us be wary, let us hide our loves”’.
69 4.1.267–9, ‘[whom] shot … nor dart … Could … pierce?’
70 3.3.405, ‘It is impossible you should see this’.
71 3.3.300, ‘I’ll have the work ta’en out’ (It., ‘il qual pannicello era lauorata alla
moresca’; Fr., ‘vn mouchoir … ouuré à la Moresque’).
72 3.3.297–300; 3.4.54; 5.2.48.
73 3.3.324; 3.4.188.
74 3.4.187–8, ‘whose is it?’ – ‘I know not’.
75 5.2.223–4, ‘that handkerchief … I found by fortune’.
76 3.3.30–40.
77 3.3.37, ‘Was not that Cassio?’
78 3.3.40, ‘I do believe ’twas he.’
79 4.1.75, 93ff.
80 4.1.118, 169.
81 4.1.29, 168.
82 3.3.341, ‘her stolen hours of lust’.
83 3.4.66–7, ‘when my fate would have me wive, / To give it her’; 4.1.174.
84 3.3.443–4, ‘If it be that, or any that was hers, / It speaks against her with the
other proofs.’
85 3.3.284–5, ‘Your dinner … attend[s]’; 3.4.52, ‘Lend me thy handkerchief.’
86 3.4.103, ‘I am most unhappy in the loss of it’.
87 3.4.85, ‘It is not lost’.
88 3.3.391–2, ‘If there be cords or knives, / Poison, or fire’; 4.1.168; 179, ‘she
shall not live’.
89 3.4.125–6, ‘My lord is not my lord’; 4.1.268, ‘He is much changed.’
90 4.2.100, ‘what’s the matter with my lord?’
91 4.2.43, ‘why do you weep?’
92 3.3.288.
93 3.4.158, ‘I never gave him cause’.
94 1.3.351–2, ‘when she is sated with his body she will find the error of her
choice’ (Iago).
95 4.2.153, ‘I know not how I lost him.’
96 3.4.125–6, ‘My lord is not my lord’.
97 3.3.233–5, ‘Not to affect many proposed matches / Of her own clime,
complexion and degree, / Whereto we see, in all things, nature tends’
(Iago).
98 4.2.151, ‘What shall I do to win my lord again?’
99 3.3.296–7, ‘My wayward husband hath a hundred times / Wooed me to steal
it’; 5.2.225–7.
100 3.4.24, ‘I know not, madam’.
101 3.4.29, ‘Is he not jealous?’; 3.4.100; 4.2.12, ‘I durst, my lord, to wager she
is honest’.
102 3.3.389, ‘I’ll have some proof.’
103 3.4.180, ‘Take me this work out’; 190, ‘I’d have it copied’ (Fr., ‘se mit à en
faire vn semblable, & en tirer le patron’. The words in italics (= and take
out the pattern) are not found in the Italian original).
104 4.1.156, ‘By heaven, that should be my handkerchief!’
105 4.1.74, ‘O, thou art wise, ’tis certain.’
106 3.3.475ff., ‘let me hear thee say / That Cassio’s not alive …’ – ‘But let her
live.’ – ‘Damn her, lewd minx’; 4.1.198ff.
107 4.1.209 (Iago offers to kill Cassio).
108 3.3.472–3, ‘I greet thy love … with acceptance bounteous’; 1.3.382, ‘Thus
do I ever make my fool my purse’.
109 4.2.235, ‘He sups tonight with a harlotry’; 5.1.1ff., ‘Wear thy good rapier
bare’.
110 5.1.24ff.; 71, ‘My leg is cut in two’.
111 5.1.27, ‘Help, ho! murder! murder!’
112 5.1.26 SD; 45 SD; 48, ‘Whose noise is this…?’
113 5.1.56, ‘O me, lieutenant!’
114 5.1.71, ‘How is’t, brother?’
115 5.2.72, ‘my fear interprets’; 75, ‘Alas, he is betrayed, and I undone’.
116 5.2.76, ‘Out, strumpet, weep’st thou for him to my face?’
117 5.2.50, ‘Sweet soul, take heed’.
118 4.1.65, ‘Good sir, be a man’; 89–90, ‘I shall say you’re … nothing of a man’.
119 5.2.6, ‘Yet she must die, else she’ll betray more men’.
120 3.3.391–2, ‘If there be cords or knives, / Poison …’; 4.1.202.
121 4.1.207, ‘the justice of it pleases’; 5.2.247, ‘she loved thee, cruel Moor’.
122 5.2.85, ‘What noise is this?’
123 5.2.119, ‘Help, help, ho, help!’ (Emilia).
124 5.2.63, ‘O perjured woman’.
125 4.2.82, ‘By heaven, you do me wrong’; 88, ‘What, not a whore?’ – ‘No, as I
shall be saved’; 5.2.16–17, ‘that dost almost persuade / Justice to break
her sword!’
126 5.2.83, ‘O Lord! Lord! Lord! [(He) smothers her.]’
127 5.2.162 (Emilia calls for help); 163 SD.
128 5.2.197, ‘thou hast killed the sweetest innocent’.
129 5.2.365, ‘To you … Remains the censure of this hellish villain’.
130 1.3.295, ‘My life upon her faith’; 3.3.90, ‘perdition catch my soul / But I do
love thee’.
131 5.2.18, ‘I will kill thee / And love thee after’; 97, ‘O insupportable, O heavy
hour!’
132 (This loss of rank perhaps suggested Iago’s hatred when he is not
promoted:) 1.1.5; 1.3.385, ‘I hate the Moor’.
133 1.2.18, ‘the signiory’ (= the Signoria).
134 1.3.356, ‘an erring Barbarian’.
135 5.2.328–35, ‘You shall close prisoner rest’.
136 5.2.302, ‘Torments will ope your lips’; 367.
137 5.2.180ff.
138 1.1.161, ‘O unhappy girl!’
139 Desdemona = (Greek) ‘unfortunate’; 5.2.339, ‘these unlucky deeds’.
140 5.2.340, ‘Nothing extenuate’; 342, ‘one that loved not wisely, but too well’;
159–60, ‘O gull, O dolt, / As ignorant as dirt!’
141 See Shaheen, as on p. 375 n. 1.
142 See also Bullough, 195ff., for other possible sources and analogues.
 APPENDIX 4
Edward Pudsey’s Extracts from Othello
Edward Pudsey, gentleman, from Tewkesbury,
Gloucestershire, recorded extracts from several plays in
notebooks which have survived. Most of the plays belonged
to Shakespeare’s company, and some of the extracts could
have been written down during or just after a performance.
Pudsey included passages from The Merchant of Venice,
Much Ado, Titus Andronicus, Romeo and Juliet, Richard 2,
Richard 3 and Hamlet, and also from Jonson’s Every Man
out of His Humour and from a play called Irus. These were
published by Richard Savage as Shakespearean Extracts
from ‘Edward Pudsey’s Booke’ (1888).1
Savage did not know Pudsey’s will, which has now been
printed.2 The will, dated 8 January 1610, actually referred
to his notebooks; administration was granted to his widow
on 17 November 1613. Pudsey therefore could have quoted
from the published versions of some plays, especially when
his longer extracts are close to the quartos.3 The extracts
from Romeo and Juliet and Hamlet, on the other hand, two
plays each of which reached print in two different quarto
versions, could have been jotted down during a
performance, for in these extracts he sometimes agrees
with Q1 and sometimes with Q2 of the same play.
The extracts published by Savage were taken from
papers now housed in the Bodleian Library (MS. Eng. poet.
d. 3), but some leaves from Pudsey’s notebooks found their
way into the Shakespeare Birthplace Trust Record Office in
Stratford-upon-Avon (MS. ER 82). The Stratford leaves
contain short extracts from Othello, a play not printed until
after Pudsey’s death, and so transmit the earliest bits of
text of the play now known. While we cannot tell whether
Pudsey wrote them down in the theatre or later, they look
like approximations, attempts to keep track of ideas rather
than to record the exact words of the play.
I am grateful to Mairi McDonald of the Birthplace Trust
for checking my transcription. I have added numbers in
square brackets at the beginning of each of the four lines,
have expanded contractions and included alternative and
doubtful readings, also in square brackets.

[1] Dangerous to tell where a soldier lyes. [for] yf I shold

say he lodge theer I lyed ther [or ‘theer’]
[2] Shee yt is free of her tonng [or ‘toung’] ys as frank of
her lipps. An ey yt offers p[ar]le to p[ro]uocac[i]o[n]
[3] An equalitye of p[er]fections fit in mariage for when ye
act ys past theere wilbe
[4] a dulnes much needing ye help of beauty youth loue and
such lyke to p[re]uent loathing
[In margin, before line 3] A fit match

Compare (1) and 3.4.1–13, (2) and 2.1.100–2, 2.3.21–2,

(3) and 2.1.224ff., (4) and 2.1.224–31.

1 Stratford-upon-Avon Note Books, no. 1 (printed and published at Stratford-on-

Avon by John Smith; London: Simpkin and Marshall). See also Peter Beal,
Index of English Literary Manuscripts, vol. 1, part 2 (1980), 449.
2 See Playhouse Wills 1558–1642: An Edition of Wills by Shakespeare and His
Contemporaries in the London Theatre, ed. E. A. J. Honigmann and Susan
Brock (Manchester, 1993), 92–4.
3 For instance, see Savage, Shakespearean Extracts, 46 (Much Ado).
 APPENDIX 5
Musical Settings for Songs in Othello

Musical adviser: Helen Wilcox

All musical settings are reproduced from F. W. Sternfeld,
Music in Shakespearean Tragedy (1963), by permission.
Note that the wording in the settings may not be the same
as that in this edition. A comprehensive listing of all
musical settings, incidental music and operas associated
with Shakespeare’s plays may be found in A Shakespeare
Music Catalogue, edited by Bryan N. S. Gooch and David
Thatcher, 6 vols (Oxford, 1991).
‘And let me the cannikin clink, clink’ (2.3.65–9)

Reproduced from Sternfeld, 146.

‘King Stephen was and a worthy peer’ (2.3.85–92)

See notes on pp. 340–1. Reproduced from Sternfeld, 149.

Willow Song (4.3.39–50)

See notes on pp. 295, 344–5. Reproduced from Sternfeld, 43–4.
 ABBREVIATIONS AND REFERENCES

Unless otherwise stated, the place of publication is London.

ABBREVIATIONS
ABBREVIATIONS USED IN NOTES

* precedes commentary notes involving readings that are not

found in either Q or F
as substantively as in the edition cited (i.e. ignoring accidentals of
spelling and punctuation)
cont. continued
Fc corrected state of F
Fr. French
Fu uncorrected state of F
It. Italian
Lat. Latin
lit. literally
LN longer note(s)
n.d. no date
om. omitted
opp. opposite
Qc corrected state of Q
Qu uncorrected state of Q
SD stage direction
SP speech prefix
SR Stationers’ Register (see Arber)
subst. substantially
this a reading adopted for the first time in this edition
edn
TLN through line numbering in The First Folio of Shakespeare, ed.
Charlton Hinman, Norton Facsimile (1968)
t.n. textual notes at the foot of the page

SHAKESPEARE’S WORKS AND WORKS PARTLY BY SHAKESPEARE

AC Antony and Cleopatra

AW All’s Well That Ends Well
AYL As You Like It
CE The Comedy of Errors
Cor Coriolanus
Cym Cymbeline
E3 Edward III
Ham Hamlet
1H4 King Henry IV Part 1
2H4 King Henry IV Part 2
H5 King Henry V
1H6 King Henry VI Part 1
2H6 King Henry VI Part 2
3H6 King Henry VI Part 3
H8 King Henry VIII
JC Julius Caesar
KJ King John
KL King Lear
LLL Love’s Labour’s Lost
Luc The Rape of Lucrece
MA Much Ado About Nothing
Mac Macbeth
MM Measure for Measure
MND A Midsummer Night’s Dream
MV The Merchant of Venice
MW The Merry Wives of Windsor
Oth Othello
Per Pericles
PP The Passionate Pilgrim
R2 King Richard II
R3 King Richard III
RJ Romeo and Juliet
Son Sonnets
STM Sir Thomas More
TC Troilus and Cressida
Tem The Tempest
TGV The Two Gentlemen of Verona
Tim Timon of Athens
Tit Titus Andronicus
TN Twelfth Night
TNK The Two Noble Kinsmen
TS The Taming of the Shrew
VA Venus and Adonis
WT The Winter’s Tale

REFERENCES
EDITIONS OF SHAKESPEARE

Alexander William Shakespeare: The Complete Works, ed. Peter

Alexander (1951)
Ardl Othello, ed. H. C. Hart, Arden Shakespeare (1903)
Ard2 Othello, ed. M. R. Ridley, Arden Shakespeare, 7th edn
(1958)
Bevington Othello, ed. David Bevington, Bantam edn (1988)
Cam Othello, ed. W. G. Clark, J. Glover and W. A. Wright, The
Cambridge Shakespeare, 9 vols (Cambridge and London,
1863–6); revised W.A. Wright (1891–3)
Cam2 Othello, ed. Alice Walker and John Dover Wilson, The New
Shakespeare (Cambridge, 1957)
Cam3 Othello, ed. Norman Sanders, The New Cambridge
Shakespeare (Cambridge, 1984)
Capell Mr. William Shakespeare: His Comedies, Histories and
Tragedies, ed. Edward Capell, 10 vols (1767–8). For Capell’s
annotations see his Notes and Various Readings to
Shakespeare, 3 vols (1779–83)
Collier The Works of William Shakespeare, ed. John Payne Collier, 8
vols (1842–4)
Collier2 The Works of William Shakespeare, ed. John Payne Collier, 8
vols (1853)
Dyce The Works of William Shakespeare, ed. Alexander Dyce, 6
vols (1857)
F Mr. William Shakespeares Comedies, Histories, and
Tragedies, The First Folio (1623)
F2 Mr. William Shakespeares Comedies, Histories and
Tragedies, The Second Folio (1632)
F3 Mr. William Shakespeares Comedies, Histories and
Tragedies, The Third Folio (1663)
Folger Othello, ed. Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine, The New
Folger Library Shakespeare (New York, 1993)
Furness Othello, ed. Horace Howard Furness, New Variorum
Shakespeare (Philadelphia, 1886; repr. New York, 1963)
Hanmer The Works of Shakespeare, ed. Thomas Hanmer, 6 vols
(Oxford, 1743–4)
Hart See Ard1
Johnson The Plays of William Shakespeare, ed. Samuel Johnson, 8
vols (1765)
Kittredge Othello, ed. George Lyman Kittredge (Boston, 1941)
Knight The Pictorial Edition of the Works of Shakespeare, ed.
Charles Knight, 8 vols (1838–43)
Malone The Plays and Poems of William Shakespeare, ed. Edmond
Malone, 10 vols (1790)
Muir Othello, ed. Kenneth Muir, New Penguin Shakespeare
(Harmondsworth, 1968)
Pope The Works of Shakespear, ed. Alexander Pope, 6 vols (1723–
 5)
Pope2 The Works of Shakespear, ed. Alexander Pope, 8 vols (1728)
Q William Shakespeare, Othello, The First Quarto (1622)
Q2 William Shakespeare, Othello, The Second Quarto (1630)
Q3 William Shakespeare, Othello, The Third Quarto (1655)
Ridley See Ard2
Riv The Riverside Shakespeare, ed. G. Blakemore Evans
(Boston, 1974; rev. edn 1997)
Rowe The Works of Mr. William Shakespear, ed. Nicholas Rowe, 6
vols (1709)
Rowe2 The Works of Mr. William Shakespear, ed. Nicholas Rowe, 6
vols (1709)
Rowe3 The Works of Mr. William Shakespear, ed. Nicholas Rowe, 8
vols (1714)
Sanders See Cam3
Sisson William Shakespeare, The Complete Works, ed. C. J. Sisson
(n.d.)
Steevens The Plays of William Shakespeare, ed. Samuel Johnson and
George Steevens, l0 vols (1773)
Theobald The Works of Shakespeare, ed. Lewis Theobald, 7 vols
(1733)
Var Othello, ed. H.H. Furness, New Variorum Edition
(Philadelphia, 1886)
Walker See Cam2
Warburton The Works of Shakespeare, ed. William Warburton, 8 vols
(1747)
Wilson Titus Andronicus, ed. John Dover Wilson, The New
Titus Shakespeare (Cambridge, 1948)

OTHER WORKS

Abbott E. A. Abbott, A Shakespearian Grammar, 2nd edn (1870,

etc.)
Adamson Jane Adamson, ‘Othello’ as Tragedy: Some Problems of
Judgment and Feeling (Cambridge, 1980)
Aebischer Pascale Aebischer, Shakespeare’s Violated Bodies: Stage
and Screen Performance (Cambridge, 2004)
Andreas James Andreas, ‘Othello’s African American Progeny’, SAR
57 (1992), 39–57
Arber A Transcript of the Registers of the Company of Stationers
of London, AD JSS4-1640, ed. Edward Arber, 5 vols (1875,
etc.)
Ashcroft Peggy Ashcroft, ‘Playing Shakespeare’, SS 40 (1988), 11–
19
AT American Theatre
Ath Athenaeum
Barthelemy Anthony Barthelemy, Black Face, Maligned Race: The
Representation of Blacks in English Drama from
Shakespeare to Southerne (Baton Rouge, LA, 1987)
Battersby John Battersby, ‘The Drama of Staging “Othello” in
Johannesburg’, NYT (26 October 1987)
Bible Quotations from the Bible are from the ‘Bishops’ Bible’
(1568, etc.), with modernized spelling, except when
otherwise indicated
Bland Sheila Rose Bland, ‘How I Would Direct Othello’, in
Othello: New Essays by Black Writers, ed. Mythili Kaul
(Washington, D.C., 1996), 29–41
Boose, ‘Let’ Lynda Boose, ‘“Let it be Hid”: The Pornographic Aesthetic
of Shakespeare’s Othello’, in Othello: New Casebooks, ed.
Lena Cowen Orlin (Basingstoke, 2004), 22–48
Boose, Lynda Boose, ‘Othello’s Handkerchief: “The Recognizance
‘Othello’ and Pledge of Love”’, ELR 5 (1975), 360–74
Bradley A. C. Bradley, Shakespearean Tragedy: Lectures on
‘Hamlet’, ‘Othello’, ‘King Lear’, and ‘Macbeth’ (1904)
(1991)
Bradshaw Graham Bradshaw, Misrepresentatiom: Shakespeare and
the Materialists (1993)
Bristol Michael Bristol, ‘Charivari and the Comedy of Abjection in
Othello’, RD 21 (1990): 3–21
Brown Mark Brown, ‘RSC casts its first black Iago for next year’s
Stratford-staged Othello’, The Guardian (3 September
2014)
Bullough Geoffrey Bullough, Narrative and Dramatic Sources of
 Shakespeare, 8 vols (1957–75), vol. 7 (1973)
Burton Jonathan Burton, Traffic and Turning: Islam and English
Drama 1579–1624 (Newark, NJ, 2005)
Calderwood James L. Calderwood, The Properties of ‘Othello’
(Amherst, 1989)
Callaghan, Dympna Callaghan, Shakespeare Without Women:
Shakespeare Representing Gender and Race on the Renaissance Stage
(2000)
Callaghan, Dympna Callaghan, Women and Gender in Renaissance
Women Tragedy (Atlantic Highlands, NJ, 1989)
Carlisle Carol Jones Carlisle, Shakespeare from the Greenroom
(Chapel Hill, NC, 1969)
Chambers, E. K. Chambers, The Elizabethan Stage, 4 vols (Oxford,
Elizabethan 1923)
Stage

Chambers, E. K. Chambers, William Shakespeare: A Study of Facts

William and Problems, 2 vols (Oxford, 1930)
Shakespeare

Chew Samuel C. Chew, The Crescent and the Rose: Islam and
England during the Renaissance (Oxford, 1937, repr. New
York, 1965)
Clinton Catherine Clinton, ‘Fanny Kemble’s Journal: A Woman
Confronts Slavery on a Georgia Plantation’, Frontiers 9
(1987), 74–9
Coleridge Samuel Taylor Coleridge, ‘Notes on Some Other Plays of
Shakespeare, section IV’ (1818), in Lectures and Notes on
Shakespeare and Other English Poets, volume 1 (1908)
Cornwall Barry Cornwall, The Life of Edmund Kean in Two Volumes
(1835)
Coryate Thomas Coryate, Coryat’s Crudities (1611)
Courtney Krystyna Kujawinska Courtney, ‘Ira Aldridge, Shakespeare,
and Color-Conscious Performances in Nineteenth-Century
Europe’, in Colorblind Shakespeare: New Perspectives on
Race and Performance, ed. Ayanna Thompson (New York,
2006), 103–22
Crowther Bosley Crowther, ‘Othello (1965): The Screen: Minstrel
Show “Othello”: Radical Makeup Marks Olivier’s
 Interpretation’, NYT (2 February 1966)
Daileader Celia Daileader, ‘Casting Black Actors: Beyond
Othellophilia’, in Shakespeare and Race, eds. Catherine
M.S. Alexander and Stanley Wells (Cambridge, 2000), 177–
202
Dekker The Dramatic Works of Thomas Dekker, ed. Fredson
Bowers, 4 vols (Cambridge, 1953–8)
Demeter Jason Demeter, ‘“This is a Theatre of Assault”: Amiri
Baraka’s Dutchman and a Civil Rights Othello’, Selected
Papers of the Ohio Valley Shakespeare Conference 1
(2007):
http://ideaexchange.uakron.edu/spovsc/vol1/iss2007/
Dent R. W. Dent, Shakespeare’s Proverbial Language: An Index
(1981)
Dowling Maurice Dowling, Othello Travestie: An Operatic Burletta
(1834) in Nineteenth Century Shakespeare Burlesques,
Volume II, ed. Stanley Wells (Wilmington, DE, 1978)
Drakakis John Drakakis, ‘Introduction’, The Merchant of Venice,
Arden3 (2010), 1–159
E.F.R. E. F. R. ‘Portrait Gallery (No. VIII): Mr. and Miss
Vandenhoff’, Tallis’s Dramatic Magazine (April 1851)
Elie Rudolph Elie, Jr. ‘Robeson Gives “Othello” Great Power,
Starring in Revival with White Troupe’, Variety (12 August
1942)
Eliot T.S. Eliot, Selected Essays (New York, 1950)
Elliott Martin Elliott, Shakespeare’s Invention of Othello: A Study
in Early Modern English (1988)
ELN English Language Notes
ELR English Literary Renaissance
ES English Studies
Erickson Peter Erickson, Citing Shakespeare: The Reinterpretation
of Race in Contemporary Art and Literature (New York,
2007)
Everett, Barbara Everett, “‘Spanish” Othello: the making of
‘“Spanish” Shakespeare’s Moor’, SS, 35 (1982), 101–12
Othello’

Faucit Helen Faucit, Lady Martin, On Some of Shakespeare’s

 Female Characters (Edinburgh, 1891)
Fernández José Ramón Díaz Fernández, ‘Othello On Screen: A
Comprehensive Film Bibliography’,
file:///C:/Users/athompson/Downloads/Comprehensive_film-
bibliography_Othello.pdf
Gentleman Francis Gentleman, Dramatic Censor, or Critical
Companion, Volume the First (1770)
Granville Lord Granville Leveson Gower (First Earl Granville)
Private Correspondence 1781 to 1821, ed. Castalia
Countess Granville (New York, 1916)
Greenblatt Stephen Greenblatt, Renaissance Self-Fashioning: From
More to Shakespeare (Chicago, 1980)
Greg W W Greg, The Shakesprare First Folio: Its Bibliographical
and Textual History (Oxford, 1955)
Grehan Helena Grehan, ‘TheatreWorks’ Desdemona: Fusing
Technology and Tradition’, TDR 45 (2001), 113–25
Hankey Julie Hankey, Othello- William Shakespeare, Bristol
Classical Press: Plays in Performance (1987)
Haraway Donna J. Haraway, When Species Meet (Minneapolis, MN,
2008)
Harding Jason Harding, ‘T. S. Eliot’s Shakespeare’, Essays in
Criticism 62 (2012), 160–77
Hatchuel Shakespeare on Screen: ‘Othello’, eds. Sarah Hatchuel and
and Vienne- Nathalie Vienne-Guerrin (Cambridge, 2015)
Guerrin

Hawkins Frederick William Hawkins, The Life of Edmund Kean:

From Published and Original Sources (1869)
Hazlitt William Hazlitt, London Magazine VI (June 1820),
reprinted in The Collected Works of William Hazlitt,
volume 8, eds. A. R. Waller and Arnold Glover (1903)
Heilman R. B. Heilman, Magic in the Web: Action and Language in
‘Othello’ (Lexington, Kentucky, 1956)
Hewlett James Hewlett, ‘Matthews’, National Advocate (8 May
1824)
Higgins Chester Higgins, ‘Othello: Noble Black’, Jet Magazine (17
March 1966)
Hill Errol Hill, Shakespeare in Sable: A History of Black
 Shakespearean Actors (Amherst, MA, 1984)
HLQ Huntington Library Quarterly
Homilies Certain Sermons or Homilies appointed to be read in
churches in the rime of the late Queen Elizabeth (Oxford,
1844)
Honigmann, E. A. J. Honigmann, ‘The First Quarto of Hamlet and the
‘Date of date of Othello’, RES, 44 (1993), 211–19
Othello’

Honigmann, E. A. J. Honigmann, Shakespeare: Seven Tragedies. The

Seven Dramatist’s Manipulation of Response (1976)
Tragedies

Honigmann, E. A. J. Honigmann, Shakespeare: Seven Tragedies

Shakespeare Revisited: The Dramatist’s Manipulation of Response
(Basingstoke, 2002)
Honigmann, E. A. J. Honigmann, The Stability of Shakespeare’s Text
Stability (1965)
Honigmann, E. A. J. Honigmann, ‘Re-enter the stage direction:
‘Stage Shakespeare and some contemporaries’, SS, 29 (1976),
direction’ 117–25

Honigmann, E. A. J. Honigmann, The Texts of ‘Othello’ and

Texts Shakesperian Revision (1996)
Hulme Hilda M. Hulme, Explorations in Shakespeare’s Language
(1962)
Hunter G. K. Hunter, Dramatic Identities and Cultural Tradition:
Studies in Shakespeare and His Contemporaries
(Liverpool, 1978)
Jackson C. Bernard Jackson, Iago: A Play in Two Acts (Los Angeles,
1979)
James Henry James, ‘Tommaso Salvini: In Boston, 1883’, in The
Scenic Art (New York, 1957), 168–85
Jennings Caleen Sinnette Jennings, Playing Juliet/Casting Othello
(Woodstock, IL, 1999)
Johnson Samuel Johnson, Johnson on Shakespeare, ed. Walter
Raleigh (1908)
Jonson Ben Jonson, ed. C. H. Herford and Percy and Evelyn
Simpson, 11 vols (Oxford, 1925–52)
Jones, E. Eldred Jones, Othello’s Countrymen: The African in
English Renaissance Drama (Oxford, 1965)
Jones, L. LeRoi Jones (aka Amiri Baraka), ‘The Revolutionary
Theatre’, The Liberator (July 1965), 4–6
Jones and James Earl Jones and Penelope Niven, James Earl Jones:
Niven Voices and Silences (New York, 1993)
Karim- Farah Karim-Cooper, Cosmetics in Shakespearean and
Cooper Renaissance Drama (Edinburgh, 2006)
Kastan David Scott Kastan, A Will to Believe: Shakespeare and
Religion (Oxford, 2014)
Kaul Mythili Kaul, ‘Preface’, in Othello: New Essays by Black
Writers, ed. Mythili Kaul (Washington DC, 1996), 1–19
Kemble, Fanny Kemble, Records of Later Life (1882) (New York,
Records 2015)
Kemble, Fanny Kemble, ‘Salvini’s Othello’, Temple Bar Magazine 71
‘Salvini’ (July 1884)
Knolles Richard Knolles, The General History of the Turks (1603)
Kolin Philip C. Kolin, ‘Blackness Made Visible: A Survey of
Othello in Criticism, on Stage, and on Screen’, in Othello:
New Critical Essays, ed. Philip C. Kolin (New York, 2002),
1–87
Leavis F. R. Leavis, ‘Diabolic Intellect and the Noble Hero: A Note
on Othello’, Scrutiny (December 1937), 259–83
Lennox Charlotte Lennox, Shakespear Illustrated: or the Novels
and Histories on which the Plays of Shakespear are
Founded, Collected and Translated from the Original
Authors: With Critical Remarks: In two volumes. By the
Author of the Female Quixote, 3 vols (1753–4)
Lester Adrian Lester, Interview with Ayanna Thompson (13
September 2013)
Lewes George Henry Lewes, On Actors and the Art of Acting
(1875)
Lindfors Bernth Lindfors, ‘The Signifying Flunkey: Ira Aldridge as
Mungo’, Literary Griot 5 (Fall 1993), 1–11
Lyly The Complete Works of John Lyly, ed. R. Warwick Bond, 3
vols (Oxford, 1902)
MacDonald Joyce Green MacDonald, ‘Acting Black: Othello, Othello
Burlesques, and the Performance of Blackness’, TJ 46
 (1994), 231–49
Mack Maynard Mack, Everybody’s Shakespeare (1993)
Malone Edmund Malone, Historical Account of the Rise and
Progress of the English Stage, and of the Economy and
Usages of the Ancient Theatres in England (1800)
Mandeville Sir John Mandeville, The Book of Marvels and Travels (c.
1371) trans. Anthony Bale (Oxford, 2012)
Mares Francis Hugh Mares, ‘The Origin of the Figure Called “the
Vice” in Tudor Drama’, HLQ 22 (1958), 11–29
Marlowe The Complete Works of Christopher Marlowe, ed. Fredson
Bowers, 2 vols (Cambridge, 1973)
Martial The Epigrams of Martial, Bohn’s Classical Library (1907)
Memoir Memoir and Theatrical Career of Ira Aldridge: African
Roscius (1848)
MIT MIT’s Global Shakespeares open access website:
http://globalshakespeares.mit.edu/#
Molà Lucy Molà, The Silk Industry of Renaissance Venice
(Baltimore, 2000)
Montaigne The Essayes, tr. John Florio, Everyman’s Library, 3 vols
(1910)
Morrison Toni Morrison, Speech given at ‘Desdemona: Dialogues
Across Histories, Continents, Cultures’, UC Berkeley (28
October 2011): https://www.youtube.com/watch?
v=79K_hMW102g
Morrison Toni Morrison and lyrics by Rokia Traoré, Desdemona
and Traoré (2012)
MSR Malone Society Reprints
Muir Kenneth Muir, The Sources of Shakespeare’s Plays (1977)
National National Theatre Online, ‘Emilia and Desdemona: Women
Theatre in Othello’: http://www.nationaltheatre.org.uk/video/emilia-
and-desdemona-women-in-othello
Neill Michael Neill, ‘Unproper Beds: Race, Adultery, and the
Hideous in Othello’, SQ 40 (1989), 383–412
N&Q Notes and Queries
Noble Richmond Noble, Shakespeare’s Biblical Knowledge and
Use of the Book of Common Prayer ( 1935)
NYT New York Times
OED Oxford English Dictionary, 3rd edn (Oxford, 2002)
Okri Ben Okri, ‘Leaping Out of Shakespeare’s Terror: Five
Meditations on Othello’, in A Way of Being Free (London,
1997), 71–87
Olivier Laurence Olivier, On Acting (1986)
Pao Angela Pao, ‘Ocular Revisions: Re-casting Othello in Text
and Performance’, in Colorblind Shakespeare: New
Perspectives on Race and Performance, ed. Ayanna
Thompson (New York, 2006), 27–45
Partridge Eric Partridge, Shakespeare’s Bawdy (1947, repr. 1961)
Pechter Edward Pechter, Othello and Interpretive Traditions (Iowa
City, 1999)
PG Providence Gazette
Pliny Pliny the Elder, The Historie of the World, trans. Philemon
Holland (1601)
Potter Lois Potter, Shakespeare in Performance: ‘Othello’
(Manchester, 2002)
PQ Philological Quarterly
Quarshie Hugh Quarshie, Second Thoughts about ‘Othello’
(Chipping Camden, 1999)
Raber Karen Raber, Animal Bodies, Renaissance Culture
(Philadelphia, PA, 2013)
RD Renaissance Drama
Rosenberg Marvin Rosenberg, The Masks of Othello: The Search for
the Identity of Othello, Iago, and Desdemona by Three
Centuries of Actors and Critics (Berkeley, CA, 1961)
RQ Renaissance Quarterly
Rymer Thomas Rymer, A Short View of Tragedy (1693) in The
Critical Works of Thomas Rymer, ed. Curt Zimanksy (New
Haven, 1956)
SAR South Atlantic Review
SB Shakespeare Bulletin
Sears, Djanet Sears, Harlem Duet (Winnipeg, 1997)
Harlem
Sears, Djanet Sears, “Notes of a Coloured Girl: 32 Short Reasons
‘Notes’ Why I Write for the Theatre”, in Harlem Duet (Winnipeg,
1997), 11–15
Seeff Adele Seeff, ‘Othello at the Market Place’, SB 27 (2009),
377–98
Sellars Peter Sellars, “Foreword”, in Toni Morrison, Desdemona,
Lyrics by Rokia Traoré (2012), 7–11
Sen, Ong Keng Sen, ‘Desdemona Program Notes’, in Telstra
‘Desdemona’ Adelaide Festival Program Notes (March 2000)
Sen, ‘On’ Ong Keng Sen, ‘On Desdemona: In Response’, TDR 45
(2001), 118
Shafer Jack Shafer, ‘Who You Calling “Arab”?’ Slate Magazine (17
February 2004)
Shattuck Charles H. Shattuck, William Charles Macready’s ‘King
John’: A Facsimile Prompt-Book (Urbana, IL, 1962)
Shaw George Bernard Shaw, ‘Preface: Better than Shakespear’
in Three Plays for Puritans (Chicago, IL, 1901)
Sher Antony Sher, ‘Iago’, in Performing Shakespeare’s
Tragedies Today: The Actor’s Perspective, ed. Michael
Dobson (Cambridge, 2006), 57–69
Sisson C. J. Sisson, New Readings in Shakespeare, 2 vols
(Cambridge, 1956)
Smith, Ian Smith, ‘Othello’s Black Handkerchief’, SQ 64.1 (2013):
‘Othello’ 1–25
Smith, Race Ian Smith, Race and Rhetoric in the Renaissance:
Barbarian Errors (New York, 2009)
Smith, Ian Smith, ‘White Skin, Black Masks: Racial Cross-
‘White’ Dressing on the Early Modern Stage’, RD 32 (2003), 33–67
Snow Edward A. Snow, ‘Sexual Anxiety and the Male Order of
Things in Othello’, ELR 10 (1980), 384–412
Snyder Susan Snyder, The Comic Matrix of Shakespeare’s
Tragedies (Princeton, NJ, 1979)
Spencer Hazelton Spencer, Shakespeare Improved: The Restoration
Versions in Quarto and on the Stage (Cambridge, MA,
1927)
Sprague Arthur Colby Sprague, Shakespeare and the Actors: The
Stage Business in his Plays (1660–1905) (Cambridge,
Massachusetts, 1945)
SQ Shakespeare Quarterly
SRP Saturday Review of Politics
SS Shakespeare Survey
SSt Shakespeare Studies
Stendhal Stendhal, Racine and Shakespeare (1823), trans. Guy
Daniels (New York, 1962)
Stern Tiffany Stern, Documents of Performance in Early Modern
England (Cambridge, 2009)
Sternfeld F. N. Sternfeld, Music in Shakespearean Tragedy (1963)
Sugg Richard Sugg, Mummies, Cannibals, and Vampires: The
History of Corpse Medicine from the Renaissance to the
Victorians (New York, 2011)
Taylor and Gary Taylor and John V. Nance, ‘Imitation or
Nance Collaboration? Marlowe and the Early Shakespeare
Canon’, SS 60 (2015), 32–47
TDR The Drama Review
Terry, Four Ellen Terry, Four Lectures on Shakespeare, ed.
Christopher St. John (New York, 1969)
Terry, Story Ellen Terry, The Story of My Life: Recollections and
Reflections (New York, 1908)
Texts See Honigmann, Texts
Thompson, Ann Thompson, ‘Charlotte Lennox and her Challenge to
An the Orthodoxies of Shakespeare Criticism’, in Challenging
Orthodoxies: The Social and Cultural Worlds of Early
Modern Women, eds Sigrun Haud and Melinda S. Zook
(Surrey, 2014), 147–61
Thompson, Ayanna Thompson, Passing Strange: Shakespeare, Race,
Ay, Passing and Contemporary America (Oxford, 2011)
Thompson, Ayanna Thompson, ‘Two Actors on Shakespeare, Race, and
Ay, ‘Two’ Performance: A Conversation between Harry J. Lennix and
Laurence Fishburne’, SB 27 (2009), 41–56
Thompson Ayanna Thompson and Laura Turchi, Teaching
and Turchi Shakespeare with Purpose: A Student-Centred Approach
(2016)
Tilley Morris Palmer Tilley, A Dictionary of the Proverbs in
England in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries (Ann
Arbor, MI, 1950)
Tillotson Geoffrey Tillotson, ‘Othello and The Alchemist at Oxford in
1610’, TLS (20 July 1933)
TJ Theatre Journal
TLS Times Literary Supplement
Towes John Ranken Towes, Sixty Years of the Theatre: An Old
Critic’s Memories (New York, 1916)
Tynan Kenneth Tynan, ‘Othello’: The National Theatre Production
(New York, 1966)
van Gelder Robert van Gelder, ‘Robeson Remembers: An Interview
with the Star of “Othello,” Partly about His Past’, NYT 16
(January 1944)
Vaughan, Virginia Mason Vaughan, Othello: A Contextual History
Othello (Cambridge, 1994)
Vaughan, Virginia Mason Vaughan, Performing Blackness on English
Performing Stages, 1500–1800 (Cambridge, 2005)
Vickers Brian Vickers, Shakespeare, Co-Author: A Historical Study
of Five Collaborative Plays (Oxford, 2002)
Vitkus, Daniel Vitkus, ed., Piracy, Slavery, and Redemption:
Piracy Barbary Captivity Narratives from Early Modern England
(New York, 2001)
Vitkus, Daniel Vitkus, Turning Turk: English Theater and the
Turning Multicultural Mediterranean 1570–1630 (New York, 2003)
Vogel Paula Vogel, Desdemona, a play about a handkerchief
(New York, 1994)
Walton J. K. Walton, The Quarto Copy for the First Folio of
Shakespeare (Dublin, 1971)
Webster Margaret Webster, Don’t Put Your Daughter on the Stage
(New York, 1972)
Weinert- Rob Weinert-Kendt, ‘Bill Pullman Plays Othello as a
Kendt Stranger in a Strange Land (Norway)’, AT (5 February
2015).
White Shane White, Stories of Freedom in Black New York
(Cambridge, MA, 2002)
Wilson John Dover Wilson, ‘Introduction’, Othello, eds. Alice
Othello Walker and John Dover Wilson (1957) (Cambridge, 1969),
ix–lxix
Wotton Logan Pearsall Smith, The Life and Letters of Sir Henry
Wotton, 2 vols (Oxford, 1907, repr. 1966)
Young Julian Charles Young, A Memoir of Charles Mayne Young,
tragedian, with extracts from his son’s journal (1871)
1.1
LIST OF ROLES.See LN.
1.1 For the act and scene divisions, and Texts, 31.
Location: a street outside Brabantio’s house in Venice.
Shakespeare is vague about many details (this, 3, him,
6, her, 73): we have to piece them together. Iago and
Roderigo, it seems, have been arguing for some time. It
is night (Awake, 78).
1 Tush a mild oath, removed from some play-texts as
‘profanity’ (Marlowe, 2, 247). Such exclamations (cf.
’Sblood, 4) could be treated as extra-metrical.
much unkindly with much dissatis-faction
2 thou might be misread as you (cf. Q; Texts, 83) Iago
three syllables
3 strings ‘threaded strings by drawing which the mouth of
a purse is closed’ (OED); hence, to hold the purse
strings 4 ’Sblood God’s blood, an oath expurgated in F.
4–5 If … matter semi-proverbial (Dent, D592, ‘He never
dreamed of it’) 4–6 For the scansion, see Texts, 122–3.
5 abhor ‘Abhor retains the literal sense of the Latin
abhorreo, “shrink from me in horror”’ (Kittredge).
6 him Othello: not identified until 32, and persistently
misrepresented by Iago in 1.1
7 great ones Did Shakespeare know of Venice’s Savii
Grandi (elected by the Senate to superintend boards
beneath it, in effect ministers of state)? See Wotton,
1.413n.

1.1] Actus Primus. Scoena Prima. F; not in Q 0.1 RODERIGO and IAGO] as F
(Roderigo) throughout; Iago and Roderigo Q (Roderigo) throughout 1 Tush]
Q; not in F 2 thou] F; you Q hast] F; has Q 3 the] F 4–7| as F; Q lines
heare me, / abhorre me. / hate. / Citty 4 ’Sblood] Q; not in F you’ll] you’l F;
you will Q
8 lieutenant In H5 Ancient Pistol is also ‘lieutenant’
(2.1.26, 39): Cassio is a different kind of lieutenant,
hence the sharp distinction in 31, 32. See LN.
9 Off-capped took off their caps (any headdress for men,
not a modern cap), as a sign of respect 10 price worth;
suggesting ‘the price by which my support may be
purchased’ (OED 4), i.e. the lieutenancy 12 Evades
avoids giving a direct answer, puts off (a questioner)
(OED 3b, first here) bombast (cotton or cotton wool,
used as stuffing for clothes): bombastic (language)
circumstance circumlocution; formality (OED 6, 7) 13
stuffed padded; crammed (of speech: OED 9) epithets
terms, expressions. Cf. MA 5.2.66, ‘Suffer love! a good
epithite!’ (Q) 15 Nonsuits stops the suit of, refuses
(legal: causes the voluntary withdrawal of the petition)
(unique in Shakespeare) mediators suitors, go-
betweens Certes truly (an ‘upper-class’ word; could be
monosyllabic). As QF use no quotation marks, we could
read ‘“For, certes,” says he’.
16 my officer The captain appoints and dismisses his own
officers (see LN, 1.1.8), hence is their master (41ff.).
17 And … he? seems to complete 14 as one pentameter (cf.
5.2.81ff.). Perhaps Iago raises his voice at And (14, 17),
suggesting an interrupted line.
18 Forsooth sneering at ‘genteel’ oaths: cf. Iago’s ’Sblood,
4, Othello’s Certes, 15.
arithmetician sneering at Cassio’s lack of experience of
battle (cf. bookish theoric, 23). Yet others think
differently, appointing Cassio to succeed Othello
(4.1.236).
19 Florentine Machiavelli was seen as the quintessential
Florentine, hence ‘a crafty devil’. Cf. 3.1.41n., 2.1.235–
46.
20 A … wife unexplained. Perhaps a line deleted by
Shakespeare: an unmarried Cassio suits his plot better
 (Texts, 36). See LN.
21 squadron a body of soldiers drawn up in square
formation

9 Off-capped] F; Oft capt Q 11 purposes] QF; purpose Theobald 14] Q; not in F

16–17| one line QF 16 chose] F; chosen Q 20 damned] dambd Q; damn’d F

22 division methodical arrangement

battle a body of troops or the main body of an army (OED
8, 9) 23 unless but for
24 toged togèd. Both Q and F are possible, toged from Lat.
togatus, wearing the toga (the garb of peace), tongued
as in Cym 3.2.5, ‘as poisonous tongued as handed’.
Tongue could be spelled tong (R2 5.5.97, Q), so this
may be misreading (Texts, 83), as in Q MV 1.1.112
(togue) and F Cor 2.3.115 (tongue for toge).
consuls councillors
propose hold forth
25 prattle … practice Cf. Dent, P550.1, ‘more prattle than
practice’ (first recorded 1611; echoing Oth?).
26 election formal choosing of a person for an office,
usually by a vote (OED 1a, c). Whether or not others
voted, Iago believes that it was Othello’s decision.
27 his i.e. Othello’s
28 on … grounds in … lands
29 be-leed left without wind (of ships), left high and dry
calmed becalmed
30 By … creditor by a mere bookkeeper. Or is it hinted
that Cassio was promoted to pay back a favour? Cf.
Cym 5.4.168.
counter-caster a coinage; ‘one who counts with the
assistance of counters or an abacus, but here much the
same as the arithmetician [18]’ (Ridley) 31 in good
 time indeed (ironical, expressing amazement,
incredulity: OED time 42c). Cf. Forsooth, 18.
32 God … mark Dent, G179.1, ‘God bless (save) the mark’:
cf. RJ 3.2.53. ‘An apologetic or impatient exclamation
when something horrible or disgusting has been said’
(OED mark 18).
Moorship’s Shakespeare’s coinage, on the analogy of
kingship, generalship, worship (sarcastic) ancient a
standard-bearer, ensign. ‘Our “colour-sergeant” or
perhaps “regimental sergeant-major” would be an
approximation’ (Ridley).
34 no remedy no help for it, no alternative. Cf. TN 3.4.296,
305, 333.
service public or military service; serving a master

24 toged] Q; Tongued F 26 th’] F; the Q 28 Cyprus] F (Ciprus); Q (Cipres)

throughout other] Q; others F 29 Christian] Q; Christen’d F be be-leed] F;
be led Q 32 God] Q; not in F; Sir Q2 (Sir (blesse the marke) …) Moorship’s]
as F; Worships Q 34] QF lines remedy, / seruice, / Why] F; But Q

35 i.e. promotion comes if you have supporting letters and

the goodwill of friends, viz. by favouritism. Cf. 7: did
three great ones really plead for Iago?
36 old gradation advancing step by step, according to
seniority, as of old 38 Whether could be monosyllabic
(‘whe’er’)
term respect; footing. Usually plural, ‘in … terms’.
affined bound
39 follow serve
40 content you don’t worry about that!
41 serve my turn common (= to serve my purpose), less
usual with upon. Hinting at ‘to turn the tables upon
him’?
42 We …1 masters Dent, M107: ‘Every man cannot be a
master’ (from 1592).
43 truly faithfully
shall mark i.e. may observe
44 duteous subservient
knee-crooking bowing, making a leg, as in Ham 3.2.61,
‘crook the pregnant hinges of the knee’ (Ridley)
(unique in Shakespeare) knave servant; anyone of low
status 45 obsequious obedient, dutiful; cringing (OED
1, 2) bondage slavery; subjection (OED 2, 3)
46 Wears out passes, spends
time life-time (OED 7). Cf. AYL 2.7.142, ‘one man in his
time plays many parts’.
47 provender food; fodder (for animals). Apprentices and
servants often received board and lodging in their
master’s house.
cashiered i.e. he’s cashiered. But this word, hanging loose
in the sentence, could be an exclamation: ‘and when
he’s old – cashiered! –’
48 me as far as I’m concerned (ethic dative, ‘for me’).
Almost ‘for my sake’. Petty offenders (usually dishonest
knaves) were whipped.

36 And … by] F; Not by the Q 37] as F; two lines Q first: / to th’] to’ th’ F; to the
Q 38 affined] F; assign’d Q 42 all be] F; be all Q 47 nought] noughe Q;
naught F 48–51] as F; Q lines knaues: / formes, / hearts, / throwing / Lords,
/

49 trimmed dressed up
forms images; customary ways; set methods of behaviour
(OED 2, 11, 14) visages assumed appearances (OED
8); i.e. faces like masks, concealing their feelings 50 Cf.
the ‘clever slave’ of classical comedy who boasts ‘My
 dependence is wholly on myself (e.g. Terence, Phormio,
139).
51 throwing directing (OED 15, 16)
52 elide: by ’m, they’ve (see Texts, 121)
lined their coats Dent compares ‘to line one’s purse’
(P664; from 1521).
53 Do … homage i.e. pay themselves their due, serve their
own interests. Here we begin to see two Iagos.
soul i.e. spirit. Cf. Othello’s use of the word!
54 For, sir extra-metrical
56–7 *Were … myself: F follows Q’s colon and full stop,
but this punctuation is probably without authority
(Texts, 127ff.). Reversing the colon and stop we make
the lines slightly less baffling. ‘Were I the Moor, I would
not wish to be Iago. [But, being Iago,] I only follow him
to follow my own interests.’
58 Heaven … judge Dent, G198.1, ‘God (Heaven) is my
judge.’
not … love I do not follow him out of love.
59 peculiar end private purpose
60 demonstrate (probably stressed on second syllable)
manifest, exhibit 61 native innate, i.e. secret
act activity or active principle (OED 3; Hulme, 288) figure
appearance; design
62 complement extern outward show or completeness.
Complement and compliment were not distinguished:
Iago implies outward ‘civility’ or ‘complement’ to the
inner. ‘When his actions exhibit the real intention and
motives of his heart in outward completeness’ (Knight,
in Furness).

52–3] QF lines ’em, / coates, / homage, / soule, / 52 them] F; ’em Q 53 these] F;

Those Q 54 For, sir] as QF; om. Pope 56–7 Iago. … myself:] this edn; Iago:
… my selfe. QF 60 doth] F; does Q
63 wear … sleeve ‘I will expose my feelings to everyone’
(OED heart 54f). Cf. Greene’s Planetomachia (1585),
Elb, ‘they weare their hearts in their handes … their
thoughts in their tongues end’; Dent, F32, ‘He pins his
faith (etc.) on another man’s sleeve.’ Servants wore
their master’s badge on their sleeve.
64 daws jackdaws, proverbially foolish
I … am appears to mean ‘I am not what I seem’ (cf. TN
3.1.141). Profanely alluding to God’s ‘I am that I am’
(Exodus 3.14: cf. 1 Corinthians 15.10).
65 full fortune perfect good fortune
thicklips unique in Shakespeare (but cf. Tit 4.2.175, the
Moor to his child, ‘you thick-lipp’d slave’) owe own,
possess
66 carry’t carry it off, win the day (OED 15). Cf. MW
3.2.69–70.
67 him … him … his i.e. Brabantio. Some editors think
‘the “him” throughout is Othello’ (Walker), because of
F’s punctuation: yet F’s punctuation has little authority
(Texts, 127ff.).
make after pursue
69 though even though (he already dwells in a fertile
climate, plague him with more flies) 70–2 Plague …
colour plague him with further irritations; though his
delight be (unalloyed) delight, yet direct such various
harassments against it that it may lose some reason for
its existence (OED colour 12b). Some editors prefer F
chances (OED 2: mischances, accidents).
70 Though that i.e. though
74 timorous fear-inspiring, terrible
accent tone, voice
75 elliptical: as when a fire which gained hold by
negligence at night
64 daws] F; Doues Q 65 full] Q; fall F thicklips] Q; Thicks-lips F 66 ‘t] F; ’et Q
68 streets, incense] streete, incense Q; Streets. Incense F 71 changes] Q;
chances F on’t] F; out Q 74 timorous] timerous QF

78, 80 thieves Iago’s repetitions generate hysteria: cf. 87.

79 bags money bags
80.1 *window Some Elizabethan play-houses had an upper
stage or balcony and/or upper windows.
81 What is scan what’s
terrible stronger than today: terrifying
85 Zounds = by God’s (or Christ’s) wounds
for shame fie. How characteristic of Iago to accuse
Brabantio of shamelessness just when he himself
speaks so shamelessly!
gown coat; or, senator’s gown
86 burst broken
87 very (intensive) i.e. at this very moment
old the first hint as to Othello’s age
ram Cf. OED rammish: lustful, lascivious. An old husband
with a young wife was a traditional butt of comedy
(Plautus, Miles Gloriosus, 965).

77 Signior] Seignior Q (throughout); Siginor F 78 3thieves] Q; not in F 79

2your] F; you Q 80.1] this edn; Brabantio at a window. Q; Bra. Aboue. F(SP)
81 terrible summons?] Q; F lines terrible / there? / 84 your … locked] F; all
doore lockts Q Why?] F; Why, Q 85 Zounds] Q; not in F you’re] y’are F; you
are Q 87 2now] F; not in Q

88 tupping (of rams) copulating with. Cf. 3.3.399, topped.

white white (as opposed to black); pure, unstained;
precious, beloved (OED 7, 9) 89 snorting snoring,
sleeping heavily; or, snorting like animals
bell alarm bell
90 devil monosyllabic. Othello, because devils were
thought to be black. Cf. 1.2.63, ‘Damned as thou art’,
5.2.129.
92 reverend respected
know my voice It is too dark to see him.
94 worser double comparative, not unusual (Abbott, 11)
98 distempering draughts intoxicating liquor
99 Upon … bravery in bravado, in defiance (OED 1). F
knauerie ‘is slightly redundant after malicious’ (Ridley).
100 start startle
101 Sir … sir extra-metrical. Brabantio’s two half-lines
really make a pentameter: Roderigo attempts to
interrupt, perhaps several times, as Brabantio speaks
on (cf. Hankey, 143).
But … sure You had better be clear about this.
102 spirit … place character … social position 103 bitter
painful

90–1 Or … say!] F; one line Q 94 worser] F (worsser); worse Q 99 bravery] Q;

knauerie F 100 quiet?] Q; quiet. F 102 spirit] Q; spirits F them] Q; their F

103 Patience, good sir! could be ‘Patience! good sir –’

105 grange country house or outlying farmhouse, i.e. more
vulnerable than a house in a city grave respected
106 simple free from duplicity, honest (OED 1) pure
unblemished, sincere
110 covered Cf. OED cover 6: of a stallion, to copulate with
a mare.
Barbary Barbary, the home of Berbers or Moors, could
refer to all Saracen countries along the north coast of
Africa (OED 4). Barbary horse = barb, Arab horse, i.e.
Othello.
111 nephews grandsons, descendants
neigh Notice the alliteration in 111, 112: and neigh would
echo neph[ews] if -gh- was sounded as in enough,
laugh, etc. Cf. Jeremiah 5.8, ‘In the desire of uncleanly
lust they are become like the stoned horse, every man
neigheth at his neighbour’s wife’; 13.27, ‘Thy
adulteries, thy neighings … thy abominations have I
seen.’
112 coursers could be a powerful horse, ridden in battle,
or a racehorse jennets small Spanish horses. (He
chooses this word because the Moors had settled in
Spain?) germans close relatives
113 profane wretch foul-mouthed despicable person
115 making … backs copulating. Cf. Dent, B151, ‘the
beast with two backs’ (Fr. and It. proverb); Rabelais,
1.3, ‘faisoient … la beste a deux doz’, and 5.30.
Shakespeare seems to have known the works of
Rabelais. Cf. AYL 3.2.225, ‘Gargantua’s mouth’.
116 Thou … You Thou is contemptuous or familiar, You is
(usually but not here) respectful.

104–5] as Q; F lines Robbing? / Grange. / 104 What] F; What, Q 107 Zounds] Q;

not in F 109 and] F; not in Q 112 jennets for germans] Iennits for Iermans
Q; Gennets for Germaines F 114 comes] F; come Q 115 now] Q; not in F

116 a senator contemptuous (perhaps he spits as he

speaks). Pause after You or are or a? Notice the class
feeling. Between equals, the epithet villain would lead
to a duel.
117 answer answer for. Brabantio knows Roderigo, not
Iago.
119 pleasure delight; will (sarcastic)
wise fully aware, as in modern ‘he’s wise to that one’
(Ridley)
120 As … is ‘as, by your refusal to listen to us, I am half
inclined to believe it is’ (Kittredge) 121 *odd-even a
coinage = (?)neither one thing nor the other, neither
night nor day. Cf. ‘What is the night? / Almost at odds
with morning, which is which’ (Mac 3.4.125–6).
dull drowsy, lifeless
o’th’ so F. Perhaps a scribal contraction of o’ the (see
Texts, 140).
122–3 elliptical (Roderigo stumbles, speaking hastily): he
means ‘your daughter has been transported … than
with a knave’.
123 But One expects ‘Than’.
knave male servant
gondolier F Gundelier suggests two syllables, accent on
first.
124 clasps embraces
125 and your allowance and has your approval
126 saucy insolent
127 manners good breeding
129 from away from, without
civility civilized behaviour
130 your reverence a respectful form of address, in
general use
132 gross great (Folger); or, disgusting

119–35] F; not in Q 121 odd-even] Malone; odde Euen F

134 In i.e. to. Could be corrupt.

extravagant roaming, vagrant, as in Ham 1.1.154, the
‘extravagant and erring spirit hies / To his confine’: cf.
‘erring Barbarian’ (1.3.356) wheeling (?)reeling, hence
giddy, unstable. Though first recorded 1661, wheedling
 (= using soft flattering words) is not impossible (cf. Per
5, chor. 5, neele for needle).
135 Of … everywhere of uncertain background
138 Strike … tinder strike a light with the tinderbox 139
taper candle; light
140 accident occurrence, (unforeseen) event
143 meet fitting, proper
place i.e. as Othello’s ensign (lightly ironic)
144 *produced F may be correct but would be
meaningless today.
146 gall vex
check reprimand
147 cast discharge
for the third for in six lines. A copyist’s error? Omit?
embarked involved (OED 2); or, loosely speaking, his
belongings are embarked 148 loud urgent
148–9 wars … stands Shakespeare sometimes has the
plural verbal -s (Abbott, 338), but these could be
misprints (Texts, 85).
149 act action, i.e. have started
for their souls to save their souls
150 fathom ability (OED 2b)

134 wheeling] F; wheedling Collier2 138 thus … you] F; this delusion Q 142 SD]
F; not in Q 143 place] F; pate Q 144 produced] Q; producted F 146
However] How euer Qu, F; Now euer Qc 147 cast him] Q; cast-him F 150
fathom] Q; Fadome F none] F; not Q

151 business three syllables

in which regard for which reason. Notice how loosely this
speech hangs together.
152 *hell-pains the torments of hell (cf. hell-fire, hell-
hound, etc.) 153 i.e. because it is necessary for my
 livelihood
154 sign Lat. signum = (1) token, sign; (2) military
standard, banner. Iago is Othello’s ancient or standard
(sign)-bearer.
155 sign show, pretence
156 Sagittary an inn or house with the sign of Sagittarius
(= the Centaur: a mythological figure, with head, trunk,
arms of a man and lower body and legs of a horse.
Alluding to Othello’s ‘divided nature’?). Cf. CE 1.2.9.
Either Q or F may be correct (Texts, 85), but cf. TC
5.5.14, ‘the dreadful Sagittary’ (Q and F).
search search party
157.1 night-gown dressing-gown
159 and what lies ahead in my despised life: despised
because a father whose daughter has eloped suffers
from loss of face (like a cuckolded husband)
160–5 Cf. Shylock’s reported distraction after Jessica’s
elopement (MV 2.8.15ff.), a comedy routine. ‘O treason
of the blood’ = Shylock’s ‘My own flesh and blood to
rebel!’ (3.1.34).
161 unhappy miserable, wretched cf.

152 hell-pains] hells paines Q; hell apines F 155–6] as F; Q lines surely / search,
/ 156 Sagittary] Sagittar Q; Sagitary F 157.1] as Q (Barbantio); Enter
Brabantio, with Seruants and Torches. F 160 nought] Q; naught F
bitterness. Now] F; bitternesse now Q 161–4] F uses brackets: (Oh
vnhappie Girle) … (Who … Father?) … (Oh she … thought:) 163 she
deceives] F (deccaues); thou deceiuest Q; she deceaued (Furness) 164 Past
thought! beyond comprehension
more F moe = more
167 O heaven extra-metrical
treason … blood (1) betrayal of her father and family; (2)
rebellion of the passions (Folger) 169 Is … charms are
there not magical powers
170 property nature
171 abused perverted; deceived; violated
173 brother Cf. 5.2.199n.
176 discover expose to view, find
180 officers of night Discussed by Lewkenor, who prints
‘Officers of night’ in the margin.
181 deserve your pains requite the trouble you take

164 more] Q; moe F 167] as Q; F lines out? / blood. / 170 maidhood] F;

manhood Q 172 thing] QF; things Q3 Yes … indeed] F; I haue sir Q 173
would] F; that Q 178 you lead] F; leade me Q 180 night] Q; might F 181 I’ll]
Q; I will F
1.2
1.2 Location: a street outside the Sagittary (cf. 1.1.156n.) 1
trade business (cf. Othello’s occupation, 3.3.360) 2
stuff (?)stock-in-trade (OED 1j); (?)alluding to ‘the
stuffs of war’, the munitions of an army (OED 1c) 3
contrived còntrived. Cf. H5 4.1.162, ‘premeditated and
contriv’d murther’.
4 Nine … times With Iago’s pretended indecisiveness, cf.
2.3.149ff.
5 yerked to yerk or yark = strike, esp. with rod or whip;
Iago means with a dagger. Q ierk’d (jerked) is possible
(facetious understatement).
him Roderigo (hence 58)? But could refer to Brabantio.
6 prated chattered foolishly
7 scurvy contemptible
10 I … him I put up with (or spared) him with great
difficulty.
11 fast firmly (OED 4: firmly tied). So MM 1.2.147, ‘she is
fast my wife’. Sometimes a couple could be divorced
(cf. 14) if the marriage was not consummated: that may
be Iago’s point.
12 magnifico ‘The chief men of Venice are by a peculiar
name called Magnifici, i.e. Magnificoes’ (Tollet, quoted
Ridley). So MV 3.2.280.
is … beloved has many good friends 13 effect i.e. power
potential potent; possible as opposed to actual, latent
(OED 1, 2) 13–14 a … duke’s Shakespeare ‘supposed
(erroneously) that the “duke” had a casting vote, and
so, on an equal division, two votes’; Iago says Brabantio
is so popular that he can ‘get his own way as effectively
as if he also had two votes’ (Ridley).

1.2] Scena Secunda. F; not in Q 0.1 and] Q; not in F 2 stuff o’th’] F; stuft of Q 4
Sometimes] Q; Sometime F 5 t’] F; to Q yerked] F; ierk’d Q 10 pray] Q; pray
you F 11 Be assured] F; For be sure Q
15 grievance infliction, oppression
16 his could refer to Brabantio or to the law (his = modern
its) enforce it on press it home
17 cable i.e. scope. For Iago’s nautical metaphors, cf.
1.1.29, 150, 2.3.59, etc.
do his spite do his spiteful worst
18 signiory the governing body (Signoria) of Venice
19 out-tongue outspeak, i.e. get the better of (unique in
Shakespeare) ’Tis … know i.e. it is not yet known
(Folger) 21 promulgate make publicly known. Q
provulgate means the same but was a rarer word, and
could well be Shakespeare’s (Lat. promulgare,
provulgare).
22 siege rank (lit. seat); Q height (= high rank, OED 7) is
possible demerits merits; deficiencies
23 speak … to appeal to (OED 13c); or (loosely), claim
unbonneted Fr. bonneter = to put off one’s bonnet
(headdress), out of respect; unbonneted seems to mean
‘without removing my bonnet’, but some editors prefer
‘having removed my bonnet’. Cf. 1.1.9.
proud high, grand
26 unhoused unhousèd. Othello had lived in tents (1.3.86).
free unmarried
27 i.e. restrict and confine (confine = confinement)
28 For … worth for all the treasures buried in the sea

14 duke’s] QF; Duke Q3 15 or] F; and Q 16 The] F; That Q 17 Will] F; Weele Q

18 services] QF; service Q3 20 Which … know] F; not in Q 21 promulgate]
F; provulgate Q 22 siege] F (Seige); height Q 28 sea’s] Theobald; seas QF;
seas’ Cam (anon.) yond] F; yonder Q 28.1] Enter Cassio with lights,
Officers, and torches. Q opp. 28; Enter Cassio, with Torches. F
29 raised raisèd = roused, for attack or defence; roused
from sleep 30 I … found it is fitting that I be found 31
parts (good) qualities; actions
title legal right or claim
perfect flawless, blameless; ‘fully prepared for what may
occur’ (Hart) 32 manifest me rightly reveal me
correctly as I am
33 Janus Roman god with two faces, at front and back of
the head. Iago, himself ‘two-faced’, may mean ‘by the
god who sees what others cannot see’, because it is
dark.
34 This line could be either one or two questions, or one or
two exclamations (‘!’ was often printed ‘?’). For F’s
punctuation, see Texts, 127ff.
35 May the goodness of the night (peace? rest?) light upon
you.
36 general Cf. 53, captain; see LN, 1.1.8.
37 haste-post-haste urgent. Often written as a command
on letters, here used as an adjective. Cf. 1.3.47.
40 heat i.e. urgency
galleys still used in Venice in the seventeenth century, not
in England 41 sequent successive
43 consuls Cf. 1.1.24n.
raised roused (from sleep), or gathered (OED 4, 26)

29 Those] F; These Q 32 Is … they?] F; it is they. Q 34 Duke Q; Dukes F Duke?

… lieutenant?] as Q; F lines Dukes? / Lieutenant? / 35 you, friends.] you
(Friends) F; your friends, Q 38 What’s] Q; What is F 41 sequent] F; frequent
Q

44 hotly urgently
45 When whereupon; inasmuch as, since
46 about around, in the city
quests searches
48 spend utter (cf. R2 2.1.7, Ham 5.2.131). It may be that
Othello does not exit and re-enter but speaks to
someone in the doorway.
49 makes he is he doing
50 boarded gone on board of, entered (a ship), often with
sexual implications: Paris ‘would fain lay knife aboard’
(RJ 2.4.202), ‘board her, woo her, assail her’ (TN 1.3.57)
carrack treasure ship (usually Spanish) 51 lawful
prize i.e. if he’s legally married (prize = capture,
booty). Cf. 11n.
52 *To whom? Cf. 3.3.94ff., where Cassio seems to know
all that has happened. Some think he feigns ignorance
here. The ‘inflection of who is frequently neglected’
(Abbott, 274, citing also 2.3.15, 4.2.101); yet whom
might be misread as who (Texts, 89).
53 Marry (originally) by the Virgin Mary, a mild
exclamation captain Cf. 36n., 2.1.74.
*Ha’ with you = I’m ready (cf. AYL 1.2.256). Q mistook Ha
as an exclamation, so Ha must have stood in the Q
manuscript; F modernized to Haue.

46 hath … about] F; sent aboue Q 48 I will but] F; Ile Q 49 Ancient] F (Anciant)

SD] Rowe; not in QF 50 carrack] Carrick Q; Carract F 51 he’s made] Q; he’
made F 52 whom] Q2; who QF 53 SD] Rowe (after go?); not in QF Ha’ with
you] Ha, with who? Q; Haue with you. F

54.1–2 Cf. John 18.1–11. Like Jesus, Othello is challenged

by enemies in the dark (officers, with torches and
weapons), and is led off to a higher authority. Compare
59 and John 18.11, ‘Jesus said unto Peter, Put up thy
sword into the sheath’ (Mrs Rosamond K. Sprague,
private communication). Note that the SD differs in Q
and F. Just a coincidence?
55 advised careful
56 to bad intent with bad intention
Holla stop! or, a shout to excite attention (OED 1, 2) 58
You … you Iago picks on Roderigo as if to confirm that
Roderigo prated (6) and was the cause of Othello’s
trouble. Perhaps ‘I’m for you!’
59 Cf. 54 SD n., KJ 4.3.79, ‘Your sword is bright, sir, put it
up again.’ When Kean spoke this famous line, it was as
if his voice ‘had commanded where swords were as
thick as reeds’, according to John Keats; Salvini’s voice
was ‘touched with gallant laughter’ (Rosenberg, 62–3,
105).
60 you Cf. 62, thou!
62 foul loathesome; wicked; ugly (OED 1, 7, 11) stowed
placed, i.e. hidden

54.1–2] Enters Brabantio, Roderigo, and others with lights and weapons. Q
(after To who 52); Enter Brabantio, Rodorigo, with Officers, and Torches. F
55 Brabantio: general,] subst. F 57 SP BRABANTIO ] F; Cra. Q SD] Rowe; not
in QF 58 You … come] as Q; You, Rodorigoc? Cme F 59–61] as Q; prose F 59
them] F; em Q; 62] as Q; F lines Theefe, / Daughter? /

63 Damned … art Devils were thought to be black, so

black implied damnation (‘his soul may be as damn’d
and black / As hell’, Ham 3.3.94; ‘the complexion of a
devil’, said of Morocco, MV 1.2.130).
enchanted cast a spell on
64 refer me submit my case
things of sense persons (OED 10) 66 tender delicate;
gentle; sensitive
fair unblemished (of character or reputation)
happy contented; perhaps = successful (?conventional) in
doing what the circumstances require (OED 5) 67
opposite opposed
68 curled curlèd. May imply artificial curls, worn by men.
69 mock mockery
70 guardage guardianship (first recorded here)
71 thing (contemptuous)
to … delight either ‘run … to fear, not to delight’ (two
nouns), or ‘a thing … to fear (frighten) not to delight’
(two infinitives) 72 gross in sense obvious in meaning
73 practised on plotted against
74 minerals mineral medicines or poisons (OED 4c) 75
weakens Hanmer’s waken is attractive (Texts, 88).
motion desire, inclination (so 1.3.331); or, inward impulse
or prompting (i.e. against Othello) disputed on looked
into (lit. debated)
77 attach arrest
78 abuser deceiver
79 inhibited prohibited
out of warrant illegal
81 Subdue overpower

64 things] F; thing Q 65] F; not in Q 68 darlings] Q; Deareling F 69 t’] F; to Q

72–7] F; not in Q 75 weakens] F; waken Hanmer 78 For] F; Such Q

81 Hold i.e. don’t move

82 my inclining my side (‘you who incline towards me’) 83
cue Q’s Qu. is Shakespeare’s spelling elsewhere (Texts,
160).
84 Where F Whether is a variant spelling of whither,
where.
86 direct session ‘normal process of law’ (Ridley)
90 present immediate, urgent
93 I am read ‘I’m’
94 In at (Abbott, 161)
95 idle groundless; frivolous
cause (legal) case
96 brothers … state fellow Senators (Sanders) 97 as as if
98 passage the fact of ‘passing current’ or being generally
accepted (OED 6) 99 Bond-slaves Cf. 1.3.139: Othello
was once a slave. Brabantio’s pagans implies (rightly or
wrongly) that he was or is a heathen. For slaves as
their masters’ masters in a topsy-turvy world, the same
sarcasm, see Cicero, Letters to Atticus, 2.1: ‘Are we to
be slaves of freedmen and slaves?’

83 cue] F (Cue); Qu. Q 84 Where] Q; Whether F 85 To] F; And Q 87 I] Q; not in

F 91 bring] F; beare Q
1.3
1.3 Location: a council chamber. For the importance of this
scene.
1.3.0.1 DUKE i.e. the Doge (a word not used in Oth or MV)
1 composition consistency
news reports
2 credit credibility
disproportioned out of proportion
3–4 Cf. JC 4.3.175ff.
5 jump agree
just account exact estimate. For the same QF variants, cf.
2.1.288.
6 aim guess, conjecture. Before modern methods of
communication were invented the movements of
foreign armies and navies were reported to the Privy
Council (or guessed at) exactly as here: cf. HMC,
Hatfield House, Part 12 (1602), 386.
8 bearing up proceeding
9 to judgement i.e. when you think about it
10 secure feel overconfident (because of the discrepancy
of the numbers)
11–12 But I believe the chief point (that a Turkish fleet is
making for Cyprus) to be true, with frightening
implications (for us).
12–17 In F the ‘sailor shouts “within” and is then
introduced by the officer. In Q “one within” [the sailor?]
shouts and the sailor then introduces himself (Ridley).
This passage, and others in this scene, may have been
rewritten by Shakespeare (Texts, 16–18).

1.3] Scoena Tertia. F; not in Q 0.1–2] Q; Enter Duke, Senators, and Officers. F
1 There is] Q; There’s F these] Q; this F 4 forty] F; and forty Q 5 account]
Q; accompt F 6 the aim] F; they aym’d Q 10 in] F; to Q 11 article] F;
 Articles Q 12] as F; In fearefull sense. Enter a Messenger. / One within.
What ho, … Q

15 preparation force, or fleet (prepared for action)

17 By … Angelo The ‘governor of Cyprus’ (cf. 2.1.0.1n.)
would be the appropriate person to report ‘to the
state’: Shakespeare could have confused Angelo and
Montano. A deleted half-line, printed in error by F?
18 by about
19 assay trial, judgement
pageant show; trick (OED 1c)
20 in false gaze ‘looking in the wrong direction, with our
attention diverted’ (Sanders); ‘a specific metaphor from
hunting’ (Ridley) 21 importancy importance; import,
significance 22 again moreover
24 ‘carry it (in the military sense of “win it”) with less
arduous fighting’ (Ridley, adding ‘but question is not
elsewhere used in Shakespeare in that sense’). Perhaps
question = a subject of debate or strife (OED 4), viz.
physical ‘argument’, fighting.
25 For that because
brace state of defence (OED lc, the only entry); or a
coinage from the verb (OED brace 4: to brace oneself),
i.e. ‘bracedness’, resoluteness 26 abilities power,
means 27 dressed in prepared with

13 galleys] F; Galley Q 14] as F; Now, the businesse? Q 17 By … Angelo] F; not

in Q 18–19 This … pageant] F; Q lines reason – / Pageant, / 21 Th’] F; The Q
25–31 For … profitless.] F; not in Q

28 a more respectful view of non-Europeans than Iago’s

(346, 356, 399ff.)
31 wage risk, hazard (OED 5)
34 Ottomites Turks, Ottomans
reverend and gracious respected and gracious (senators)
35 due appropriate
36 injointed joined. Why did F insert them? Perhaps
intending enjoined them. ‘Injoint’ is first recorded by
OED in Oth. Cf. AC 1.2.92, ‘jointing their force ’gainst
Caesar’.
after fleet unexplained. Perhaps ‘a following fleet’. In 1570
a Turkish fleet sailed towards Rhodes, then joined
another fleet to attack Cyprus, as here: Shakespeare
must have known this (see Honigmann, ‘Date of
Othello’, 218–19).
38–9 they … course they navigate back again (stem = to
keep on a fixed course, of a ship) 39 frank unchecked;
open
41 servitor servant. He is the governor of Cyprus (Texts,
37), hence relieve him (43).
42 free duty willing service (Walker); ‘unstinted devotion’
(Kittredge)
recommends you reports to you

32 Nay] F; And Q 33.1 a Messenger F; a 2. Messenger Q 34 Ottomites]

Ottamites QF 36 injointed] as Q; inioynted them F; injoin’d Rowe 37] F; not
in Q 38 re-stem] F; resterine Q 40 toward] F; towards Q

43 *relieve QF beleeue is feeble, in such a situation, and

relief is sent immediately.
45 Marcus Luccicos a strange name, probably a
misreading (but with the same spelling in Q and F).
Some think it alludes to Paulo Marchi Luchese, master
of an Italian inn in London: unlikely.
in town OED town 4b: in the town (pre-Shakespearian)
47 post-post-haste a variant of haste-post-haste (1.2.37)
dispatch send (OED: ‘the word regularly used for the
sending of official messengers’) 48–9 Moor … Othello
Others mostly speak of him as the Moor, to him as
Othello.
50 Against the general enemy (of all Christians), the Turk.
Ottoman is oddly placed, if an adjective: perhaps we
should read Ottoman enemy, or enemy, Ottoman
(transpose, or insert comma).
51 gentle a polite form of address to a gentleman
54 place (official) position or rank
aught anything

43 relieve] Johnson (T. Clark); beleeue QF 45 Luccicos] QF; Lucchese / Capell

he] F; here Q 47] as Q; F lines vs, / dispatch. / to] F; wish Q 48.1–2] as F;
Enter Brabantio, Othello, Roderigo, Iago, Cassio, Desdemona, and Officers.
Q (after 47) 51 SD] Theobald; not in QF 52 lacked] F; lacke Q

55 from my bed an afterthought, hence extra-metrical?

care anxiety, concern
56 particular private
57 flood-gate (sluice-gate; hence, of the water held back)
torrential
58 Dent, G446, ‘The greater grief drives out the less.’
engluts devours
59 And … itself i.e. it is unaffected by other sorrows
61 abused wronged; cheated, deceived. Notice how
Brabantio surrenders to a fixed idea, as Othello does
later.
62 mountebanks quacks, charlatans. Sidney referred
scornfully to ‘the mountebanks at Venice’ (Apology, ed.
G. Shepherd [1965], 131); cf. Jonson, Volpone, 2.2.4ff.
63–5 Confusing, because of a change of construction: 64
and 65 need err, not to err, in 63. ‘For, without
 witchcraft, nature – as long as it is not deficient, blind
or defective in sense – could not err so preposterously.’
67 i.e. made her act so unlike herself
68–70 the … sense ‘you shall yourself pronounce the
sentence (from) the death-decreeing book of law,
(taking it) in its (most) severe interpretation, according
to your own judgement’. Witchcraft (65) was a capital
crime (Sanders).
70 our proper i.e. my own

56 hold on] F; any hold of Q grief] F; griefes Q 59 Why?] F; Why, Q 60 SP 1

SENATOR] Sen. F; All. Q 64] F; not in Q 65 Sans] F; Since Qu (Saunce Qc) 70
your] F; its Q yea] F; not in Q

71 Stood … action were (the other) party in your legal

action (OED stand 95) 74 SP ALL Probably one senator
speaks, others indicate agreement (see Honigmann,
‘Stage direction’).
75 in i.e. on
76 but except
78 approved proved (by experience); esteemed
79 this old man’s A tactless way of speaking of his new
father-in-law, perhaps triggered by 72, ‘Here is the
man’.
81 head and front (OED head 41, first here) height,
highest extent 82 Rude Lat. rudis, rough, unskilled
83 soft pleasing; gentle; quiet
phrase style of expression, language
84 pith strength. He has helped in battles from the age of 7
(cf. 133, ‘from my boyish days’), like the Boy in H5.
85 wasted gone; with a hint of squandered, as he devotes
his life to war (Adamson, 62)
86 dearest worthiest
tented Cf. 1.2.26n.
87 this great world Perhaps he bows to the senators.
Venice was an independent state and cultural centre in
1600.
88 broil confused disturbance, tumult, turmoil

75 SD] Theobald; not in QF 82 extent, no more.] extent no more. Q; extent; no

more. F 83 soft] F; set Q 88 feats of broil] feate of broyle Q; Feats of Broiles
F

91 round honest, plain

unvarnished unpolished (unique in Shakespeare)
92–5 Note the change of construction: either ‘with what
drugs … I won’, or ‘what drugs … won’. Perhaps with
was dropped because of withal (= with), 94.
95 never bold How well does he know his daughter?
96 motion (any) inward impulse or desire (OED 9)
97 in … nature i.e. in spite of differences of nature 98
credit reputation
100 maimed F main’d is a variant spelling.
101 err go astray
102 and … driven i.e. and sound judgement must be
driven 103 practices intrigues, treacheries
104 vouch affirm
105 blood (the supposed seat of) passion; sexual appetite
(OED 5, 6) 106 dram a small draught of medicine
conjured (accent on second syllable) made by magic
107 wrought upon worked on, influenced (OED work 30)
To … proof Dent, S1019, ‘Suspicion (Accusation) is no
proof.’

91 unvarnished] as Q; vn-varnish’d u F 92] as Q; F lines Loue. / Charmes, / 94

proceeding] F; proceedings Q I am] F; am I Q 95–6 bold … so] F subst.; bold
 of spirit, / So Q 99 on?] Q; on; F 100 maimed] Q; main’d F 101 could] F;
would Q 107 SP] Q; not in F vouch] F; youth Q

108 overt manifest. An overt act (in law) was ‘an outward
act, such as can be clearly proved to have been done,
from which criminal intent is inferred’ (OED 2b).
test proof; trial; witness; evidence (OED sb. 1, 3)
109 thin implausible
habits (clothes; appearances, hence) suggestions
poor likelihoods weak probabilities
110 modern seeming commonplace appearance. Is this an
appeal against racial prejudice?
prefer bring
112 indirect devious
forced forcèd: constraining
113 poison pervert morally (OED 3)
114 question talk; questioning. ‘Or did it come about by
(your or her) request and such blameless talk as one
soul can grant another?’ Hinting that (1) Desdemona
took the initiative, (2) it was a ‘soul to soul’
relationship.
116 Sagittary Cf. 1.1.156n.
117 before in the presence of
118 foul wicked; guilty
119 office position (as general)
122 Desdemona He knows her name without being told.
The leading Venetians are a closed circle; Othello is
very much an outsider.

108 certain … overt] Q (ouert); wider … ouer F 109 Than these] F; These are Q
110 seeming do] F; seemings, you Q 111 SP] Q; Sen. F 116 Sagittary]
Sagittar Q; Sagitary F 119] F; not in Q 123] as Q; F lines them: / place. /
 Ancient] Q; Aunciant F 124 till] Q; tell F truly] F; faithfull Q SD] Exit two or
three. Q; not in F

125 vices depravities; or, faults (‘without implication of

serious wrong-doing’: OED 4) blood Cf. 105n.
126 justly faithfully
present (legal) lay before a court
128 And … mine perhaps read ‘And she did thrive in mine’
(Proudfoot, private note) Say it an unusual turn of
phrase, not quite the same as ‘Speak’. Also, a short
line: something missing (see previous note)?
129 Her … 1me Did Othello or Brabantio deceive himself?
How does Brabantio react to this line?
oft i.e. the lovers took their time (cf. 85, nine moons)
130 Still constantly
131 From … year This half-line adds nothing essential;
perhaps cancelled, and printed in error (Texts, 36–7)?
132 passed gone through; escaped
135 spake for o:a misreading, see Texts, 83.
disastrous ill-starred, unlucky (OED 1)
chances ‘Chance’ seems to have been against Othello from
an early age, so he thinks: cf. 5.2.339, ‘these unlucky
deeds’.
136 moving changeful; affecting (the feelings)
accidents occurrences
flood and field by water and by land; or, by sea (fight) and
on the (battle) field
137 scapes escapes
imminent hanging over one’s head, ready to fall
breach a gap in a fortification made by battery
138 insolent overbearing; insulting; exulting
125] F; not in Q 131 battles] Q; Battaile F fortunes] Q; Fortune F 134 To th’]
Toth’ QF 135 spake] Q; spoke F 136 accidents by] F; accident of Q 139 of]
F; and Q

140 portance bearing, behaviour. Cf. Cor 2.3.224.

*travailous toilsome, wearisome. Q trauells perhaps
resulted from the phonetic spelling of -ous as -es or -s,
as in Ham 2.1.3, ‘meruiles [F ‘maruels’] wisely’ (Q2);
TC 1.2.136, ‘a maruel’s white hand’ (QF).
141 antres caves (Lat. antrum); OED first records here.
vast … idle Both words could mean empty (Lat. vastus).
deserts As Venice did not possess (or wage war in) deserts
he refers to a time before he entered the service of
Venice.
142 quarries perhaps = large masses of stone or rock
(OED 2); or in the modern sense, places where men (?
slaves) hew rocks 143 hint occasion, opportunity.
Could be hent in the seventeenth century (so Q).
process proceeding (cf. 94); drift; story
145 Anthropophagi ‘man-eaters’, cannibals. With Q’s -ie
ending, cf. ‘Andronicie’ (Tit 2.3.189).
145–6 men … shoulders; cf. Tem 3.3.44ff., ‘Who would
believe … that there were such men / Whose heads
stood in their breasts?’, Patient Grissill, 5.1.25 (Dekker,
1.278). The F reading is possible if there is a heavy
pause after ‘Grew—’ (Shakespeare’s revision?).
146 This to hear Either hearing this would make
Desdemona incline earnestly, or in order to hear this
Desdemona would incline (towards me) earnestly.
Incline = physical or mental inclination (bend towards,
or bend mind or heart towards). For the QF variants,
see Texts, 35–6.
148 Desdemona seems to be a mother-less girl, in charge of
household affairs, partly because her mother is not
 mentioned (except as a memory, 4.3.24).
149 Which A Latin construction: ‘(And) ever as she could
dispatch them (which), she’d come again’.
150 greedy ear Cf. Faerie Queene, 6.9.26, ‘Whylest thus he
talkt, the knight with greedy eare / Hong still upon his
melting mouth attent’ (Malone). But greedy … Devour
has stronger implications (cf. MA 3.1.28, ‘greedily
devour the treacherous bait’).

140 portance in] F; with it all Q travailous] (R. Proudfoot (N&Q, NS 21 [1974],
130–1)); trauells Q; Trauellours F 141 antres] Antrees Q; Antars F 142 and
hills] Q; Hills F heads] Q; head F 143 hint] F; hent Q 2my] F; the Q 144
other] Q; others F 145 Anthropophagi] Anthropophagie Q; Antropophague
F 146 Do grow] Q; Grew F This] Q; These things F 148 thence] Q; hence F
149 Which] F; And Q 150 She’d] as Q; She’l’d F

151–4 which … dilate i.e. Othello took the very first step
152 pliant suitable (OED 2c); or, an hour when she was
easily influenced (transferred epithet) 153 earnest
intense, ardent
154 pilgrimage i.e. life’s journey, implying that his was a
dedicated life
dilate relate
155 by parcels in bits and pieces (parcel = part). Cf. 2H4
4.2.36, ‘the parcels and particulars of our grief.
156 intentively attentively, with steady application
157 often implying that the story was told more than once
or over a period of time
beguile A smiling allusion to ‘practices of cunning hell’
(103)?
158 distressful ‘A literary and chiefly poetical word’
(OED). Of how many other words in Othello’s longer
speeches could the same be said?
stroke blow; calamitous event (OED 3b, first entry 1700)
161 swore affirmed emphatically
passing very, surpassingly
164 made her Romance heroines sometimes wish they
were men (MA 4.1.317), but this could also mean ‘made
such a man for her’.
166 but only
167 hint occasion, opportunity; a suggestion conveyed
indirectly (first here)
168–9 How well does he understand her love, or his own?
169 that because

155 parcels] F; parcell Q 156 intentively] Q; instinctiuely F 158 distressful] F;

distressed Q 160 sighs] Q; kisses F 161 in faith] F; Ifaith Q 167 hint] F;
heate Q

170 Shakespeare probably recalled Pliny’s account of a

former bondslave, C. Furius Cresinus, who, accused of
acquiring wealth by ‘indirect means, as if he had used
sorcery’, pointed to his plough and farm implements
and said ‘Behold, these are the sorceries … and all the
enchantments that I use’ (E. H. W. Meyerstein, quoted
Bullough, 211).
only alone
171 lady For her age.
witness furnish evidence concerning, bear witness to
173 Good Brabantio extra-metrical
mangled mutilated; i.e. ‘accept this less than perfect
business in the best possible way’. Cf. Dent, B326,
‘Make the best of a bad bargain’.
177 bad incorrect, mistaken (OED 2, first entry 1688)
178 Light on fall or descend on
gentle mistress This is not how a father normally
addressed his daughter.
179 noble perhaps an error, anticipating noble, 180
(Walker)
182 bound tied, united; obliged; subjected
education upbringing
183 learn teach
184 lord master. She distinguishes two kinds of lord (cf.
189) and duty: ‘you are the master of my duty hitherto,
but now I owe a wife’s duty to the Moor, my new lord’.
Cf. KL 1.1.91ff.

170.1 Attendants] F; and the rest. Q; SD follows 171 QF 177 on my head] F; lite
on me Q 184 the lord of] F; Lord of all my Q

185 hitherto implying that her new identity as wife now

supersedes the previous one as daughter 187
preferring placing; loving (you more than)
188 challenge claim (as a right). In effect she also
challenges her father (and later Othello: 3.3.60ff.).
189 the Moor Cf. 48–9n., 249, 253. my lord the male head
of a household, as in the Bible (e.g. Matthew 24.45) 190
probably four syllables originally, ‘God bye (= God be
with you), I’ve done’, making a complete verse line with
189
191 Please it may it please
192 get beget
194 i.e. in the circumstances he is glad to be rid of her
195 but thou hast except that thou hast it
196 For your sake because of you
198 escape elopement; outrageous transgression (OED 7)
199 clogs blocks of wood, etc., attached to the neck or legs
of man or beast to prevent escape 200–2 Could be
prose.
200 like yourself i.e. by giving advice; or, as ideally you
would speak
lay expound
sentence opinion; decision (of a court); pithy saying or
maxim. He adopts the conventional wisdom that ‘What
cannot be eschew’d must be embrac’d’ (MW 5.5.237).
201 grise stairway; step

190] F; God bu’y, I ha done Q 195] F; not in Q 199 them] F; em Q 200] as Q; F

lines selfe: / Sentence, / 202 Into your favour] Q; not in F

203 Cf. Dent, R71.1, ‘Where there is no remedy it is folly to

chide’; i.e. ‘when it is too late for remedies’.
griefs suffering; sorrows
204 i.e. because we have seen the worst happen, which
formerly was subject to hopes (that it would not
happen); or, hope = expectation ‘of ill as well as of
good, and so is sometimes practically equivalent to
“fear”’ (Kittredge)
205 mischief evil; misfortune; injury
206 next nearest
207–8 When fortune takes away what cannot be saved,
(your) patience makes a mockery of (= mocks, defeats)
fortune’s wrongful action.
210 spends expends; wastes
bootless pointless
213–14 He bears your sentence (200) well who suffers only
the free (?cheap) consolation which he hears (and not
the grief that occasioned it). Bears the sentence ‘plays
on the meaning, “receives judicial sentence”’
(Bevington).
216 pay pacify
217 gall (bile, hence) bitterness
218 equivocal equally appropriate
219 words are words Dent, W832, ‘Words are but words’.
220 bruised crushed, battered (a stronger word than
today)
pierced piercèd: ‘That the crushed heart was relieved by
mere words that reach it through the ear.’ Through
could be disyllabic (thorough) but probably isn’t here. F
has two errors, eares (the rhyme supports Q eare), and
pierc’d. Kittredge preferred ‘piecèd’ (= mended,
cured).

206 new] F; more Q 211 So let] QF; So, let Theobald 220 pierced] Q; pierc’d F;
pieced Warburton ear] Q; eares F

222–9 The switch to prose is all the more jolting after two
speeches of rhymed couplets. We move from private to
public business, and this makes Othello’s verse rhythms
(230ff.) sound self-indulgent.
222 preparation Cf. 15n.
223 fortitude physical or structural strength; ?fortification
224 substitute deputy. This seems to refer to Montano, the
‘governor of Cyprus’: see Texts, 37.
225 allowed praised. The sense ‘acknowledged’ is not
recorded before 1749 (OED 3).
sufficiency ability; qualification
opinion Lat. opinio (feminine, hence mistress, 226).
‘General opinion, which finally determines what ought
to be done, will feel safer with you in command’
(Ridley).
226 effects purposes; results
voice preference; vote
227 slubber obscure; smear, sully
gloss lustre; fair semblance
228 stubborn difficult; rough (‘more’ so than the ‘gloss of
… new fortunes’)
229 boisterous (painfully) rough, violent
expedition military enterprise; haste (cf. 277)
230 custom Dent, C933, ‘Custom makes all things easy’.
Cf. Henry Howard in A Defensative (1583), ‘That
irregular and wilfull tyraunt Custome’ (Kittredge); Ham
3.4.161, ‘that monster custom’.
231 flinty and steel He refers to sleeping on the ground in
armour (Sanders).
232 thrice-driven ‘softest possible; a current of air drifted
the finer and lighter feathers away from the coarser
and heavier’ (Ridley) agnize acknowledge. ‘I
acknowledge (that) I find a natural and ready
eagerness (in myself) in (situations of) hardship.’
233 natural inherent, innate
alacrity cheerful readiness
234 hardness difficulty; (sleeping on) the hard ground
undertake take in charge

221] as F; Beseech you now, to the affaires of the state. Q 222 a most] F; most
Q 225 a] Q; a more F 230 grave] F; great Q 231 couch] Pope; Cooch Q;
Coach F 233 alacrity] Q; Alacartie F 234 do] F; would Q

235 *war For the QF plural, ‘common errors’ and final -s

errors, see Texts, 85, 89, 90.
236 bending … state submitting to your high office. He
may bow respectfully as he speaks.
237 crave request
disposition arrangements
238 proper respect for her place (as my wife) and
maintenance
239 accommodation room and suitable provision (OED 7,
first here); supply of necessities besort suitable
company (OED, first here). A coinage: cf. the verb, KL
1.4.251, ‘Such men as may besort your age’ (first here).
240 levels with equals, is on a par with
breeding upbringing
242 Removing Q’s first I, F softens Desdemona’s refusal
(Texts, 16–18).
244 eye sight. So Ham 4.4.6, ‘We shall express our duty in
his eye.’
245 unfolding what I shall unfold (say)
prosperous favourable
246 charter privilege; pardon
voice expressed judgement (OED 3)

235 war] Q2; warres QF Ottomites] Ottamites QF 238 reverence] Q; reference

F 239 With] F; Which Q accommodation] Q (accomodation?) 241 Why, …
father’s.] Why at her Fathers? F; If you please, bee’t at her fathers. Q I’ll] as
Q; I will F 242 Nor would I] F; Nor I, I would not Q 245 your prosperous] F;
a gracious Q 247 T’assist] F; And if Q simpleness.] F; simplenesse. – Q 248
you, Desdemona?] F; you – speake. Q 249 did] Q; not in F

250 downright positive, absolute

violence i.e. violent rupture with conventional behaviour
scorn Both scorn and storm of fortune were commonplaces
(cf. Q and F): thus Heywood, Edward the Fourth (1600),
‘stormes of fortune’ (Part 1, B3b), ‘ouerthrowne, / By
fortunes scorne’ (Part 2, 16a). Also TC 1.3.47, ‘storms
of fortune’ (classical in origin: Seneca, Agamemnon,
594: procella Fortunae). Both are possible here; each
could be misread as the other.
250 fortunes So QF: a misreading of fortune?
251 trumpet proclaim (OED, here first with this sense)
252 quality profession (Malone); nature, moral and mental
identity (Cowden-Clarke, quoted Furness). The thought
is as in Son 111, ‘My nature is subdued / To what it
works in, like the dyer’s hand’: her inmost being (OED
heart 6) has been assimilated to Othello’s nature (and
military profession). Q vtmost pleasure looks like a first
thought, changed because it might suggest sexual
pleasure.
253 ‘I saw (the colour of) Othello’s face in (the quality of)
his mind’, i.e. his face was transformed, in her eyes, by
his mind. She does not refer to his colour directly but
seems to be half apologizing for it.
254 parts personal qualities or attributes (OED 12), as in
MA 5.2.60–1, ‘For which of my bad parts didst thou first
fal in loue with me?’ (Q).
256 dear worthy, honoured
257 moth either drone, idler; or alluding to the moth’s
attraction to light: if he goes away to war, she, deprived
of his honours and valiant parts, will be like a moth in
the dark. Cf. Cor 1.3.82ff., ‘You would be another
Penelope: yet they say, all the yarn she spun in Ulysses’
absence did but fill [Ithaca] full of moths.’
258 rites Right and rite were interchangeable spellings.
Probably both are intended here: right = enjoyment of
privileges, ‘sharing his life and dangers’ (Walker); rite
as in rites of love, a cliché (cf. R3 5.3.101, AW 2.4.41).
bereft (‘with double object: to bereave any one a
possession’, OED 1c), i.e. the rights-rites are taken
from me. So 2H6 3.1.84–5, ‘all your interest in those
territories / Is utterly bereft you’.
259 heavy distressful
support endure (with quibble on propping up something
heavy)
260 dear grievous (cf. Son 37, ‘Fortune’s dearest spite’)
250 scorn] Q; storme F, Q2 252 very quality] F; vtmost pleasure Q 258 which]
Q; why F

261 voice support, approval

262 Vouch bear witness (OED 5b, first here)
263 palate taste; liking
appetite (sexual) desire
264 comply with act in accordance with; satisfy
heat passion; sexual excitement in animals, esp. females
affects appetites, lusts
265 defunct extinct, dead (Hulme, 153–4)
*proper in conformity with rule (OED 4, 10), permissible;
correct. ‘Nor to satisfy sexual passion – the youthful
appetites that are extinct in me – and permissible
gratification of desire.’ Many editors feel that the
passage is corrupt. For the misreading of final -e/-y (as
apparently in me/my here), see Texts, 85.
266 free generous, liberal
her mind Cf. his mind, 253. They both almost repudiate
the body: how well do they know themselves?
267 defend forbid
268 scant stint, neglect
269 light-winged (?)insubstantial, trifling (a coinage)
toys amorous sport, dallying; light caresses; trumpery,
rubbish (OED 1, 2, 5) 270 feathered referring to
Cupid’s wings or arrows
seel close (the eyes), alluding to blind Cupid. In falconry,
young hawks were trained by having their eyes seeled
(hooded).
wanton dullness drowsiness, resulting from amorous
dalliance
271 ‘my organ of sight, which has this particular function
(i.e. to see clearly)’. Speculative (of faculties), exercised
 in vision; officed, having a particular office or function;
instrument, a part of the body with a special function,
an organ. Q’s foyles = overthrows; active instruments
= hands and feet (Malone).
272 disports (sexual) sports
taint injure
business diligence; care; official duties (OED 1, 6, 12)

261–2 Let … heaven] F; Your voyces Lords: beseech you let her will, / Haue a
free way Q 265 me] Capell (Upton); my QF defunct] QF; distinct Theobald
266 2to] F; of Q 268 great] F; good Q 269 When] F; For Q 270 Of] F; And Q
seel] F; foyles Q 271 officed instrument] F; actiue instruments Q

273 housewives Perhaps ‘hussies’?

skillet cooking pot, a metal container similar in shape to a
helmet but lacking its dignity (Elliott, 15) helm helmet
274 indign shameful (unique in Shakespeare)
275 Make head advance, rise up
estimation the way I am valued; reputation. Five syllables.
277 cries calls for (OED 7: first here)
278 answer it i.e. be answerable (corresponding) to it;
with quibble on cries and answer tonight viz. their
wedding night
279 With … heart ‘Othello gazes longingly, even
despairingly, at his new wife … then says with a sigh …
“With all my heart”’ (Mack, 141). Or he pretends,
covering up his disappointment, or to persuade
Desdemona.
280 we’ll meet The Duke and senators will meet; Othello
will have sailed. Note that Iago leaves later but arrives
in Cyprus before Othello: hence 2.1.67ff.
283–4 ‘and such other things as concern your rank and the
respect due to you’; import = relate to
285 honesty could = honour; integrity; good reputation
273 housewives] F; huswiues Q skillet] F; skellet Q 275 estimation] F;
reputation Q 277 her] F; not in Q th’affair cries] F; the affaires cry Q 278–9]
And speede must answer, you must hence to night, / Desd. To night my
Lord? / Du. This night. / Q; And speed must answer it. / Sen. You must away
to night. / F 280 nine] F; ten Q i’th’] F; i’the Q 283 And] F; With Q and] F; or
Q 284 import] F; concerne Q So please] F; Please Q

286 conveyance escort(ing)

287 ‘with whatever else your good grace shall think
needful’
290 delighted delightful
291 fair fair-skinned; free from moral stain (OED 9), after
virtue, 290
294 Cf. Dent, D180, ‘He that once deceives is ever
suspected.’
SD As Brabantio turns to leave, Desdemona ‘is often
directed to kneel to him for a blessing, and his rejection
is another shock to her’ (Rosenberg, 213).
295 My … faith ‘(I would wager) my life on her good faith.’
Honest ‘a vague epithet of appreciation or praise, esp. as
used in a patronizing way to an inferior’ (OED 1c); cf.
‘good Iago’ (2.1.97).
297 He does not ask Desdemona whether this arrangement
suits her. As she has just eloped, this will be the first
time Emilia attends on her.
298 in … advantage as opportunity best serves (Ridley)
300 love (?)loving talk; not ‘love-making’ (cf. 2.3.9)
direction instruction. He is in charge.
301 obey the time i.e. ‘we must comply with the needs of
this emergency’. In effect she must obey. Cf. Dent,
T340.2, ‘To obey the time’ (probably Shakespeare’s
coinage).
293 if … see] F; haue a quicke eye to see Q 294 and may] F; may doe Q SD
Exeunt] Q; Exit F 298 them] F; her Q 300 worldly] Q; wordly F matter] F;
matters Q 301 the] Q; the the F SD] Exit Moore and Desdemona. Q; Exit. F

303 thou Iago’s ascendancy has grown since 1.1, where he

addressed Roderigo as you and sir; noble heart
(drawled?) is close to insolence.
304 What … do Cf. Terence, Phormio, 540, ‘Geta. Quid
faciam? Antiph. Invenias argentum’ (G. What am I to
do? A. You must raise the money), and ‘Put money in
thy purse’, 340.
306 incontinently immediately; with unconscious quibble
on sexual incontinence, since he cannot control his
‘love’
drown myself clearly not a heroic death. Cf. the Clown in
Mucedorus (1598), B2a, ‘I wil go home and put on a
cleane shirt, and then goe drowne my selfe.’
307–8 Why … gentleman? could be a question or an
exclamation
310 prescription doctor’s prescription; ancient custom
(OED 4c)
310–11 death … physician Cf. Dent, D142.3, ‘Death is a
physician’ (could be post-Shakespearian).
312 villainous shameful
313 four … years Why does Shakespeare make such a
point of Iago’s precise age? Cf. Ham 5.1.143–62; Oth
3.4.173ff. (a similar round-about calculation). Iago is
younger than Othello and older than young Roderigo
(5.1.11).
316 guinea-hen a showy bird with fine feathers (Johnson);
(?)prostitute (OED 2b, ‘slang’: but not recorded in this
sense before Oth). Since hen could = female, and ginny
= cunning, ensnaring, seductive (OED, first recorded
 1615), perhaps ‘cunning female’. Pliny mentions
‘Ginnie or Turkey Hens … in great request’ in Numidia.
317 change exchange
baboon sometimes glossed as simpleton, i.e. a fitting
victim for a ‘ginny hen’. Baboons were, thought to be
particularly lecherous (TNK 3.5.132, ‘the bavian
[baboon] with long tail and eke long tool’).

304 think’st] F; thinkest Q 307 If] F; Well, if Q after] F; after it Q 307–8 Why,
thou … gentleman?] Why, thou … Gentleman. Q; Why thou … Gentleman? F
309 torment] F; a torment Q 310 have we] F; we haue Q 312 O villainous! I
have] as F; I ha Q 314 betwixt] F; betweene Q a man] Q; man F

319 fond infatuated; foolish

virtue power; moral excellence
320 a fig! contemptuous exclamation (cf. 2H4 5.3.118); an
obscene gesture ‘which consisted in thrusting the
thumb between two of the closed fingers or into the
mouth’ (OED fig 2) in ourselves i.e. in our own power
320–1 thus, or thus Cf. STM, ‘It is in heaven that I am
thus and thus’ (Addition III.1, sometimes ascribed to
Shakespeare).
321 gardens alluding to Galatians 6.7, ‘whatsoever a man
soweth, that shall he also reap’. Iago’s speech is a mock
sermon, using theological commonplaces: cf. St Teresa
on the good Christian as a gardener (The Life, ch. 18),
or Robert Mason, Reasons Monarchie (1602), 71–3, on
the ‘motions of lust … against Reason’.
322 See LN.
323 set plant
324 gender kind
distract it with divide it among
325 sterile with idleness unproductive because of our
inactivity
manured managed; cultivated; enriched with manure;
worked upon by hand (OED 1–4) 326 power control (of
oneself)
corrigible authority corrective power to influence others
(OED authority 4) 327 balance scales; equilibrium. F
braine could be a misreading of beame (= the bar from
the ends of which the scales of a balance are
suspended; or, ‘the balance itself’ [OED 6]).
328 poise hold in equilibrium, counterpoise
329 blood (the supposed seat of) animal appetite, fleshly
nature
330 preposterous perverse, irrational (placing last what
should be first)
conclusions results
331 motions impulses
332 unbitted i.e. unrestrained
lusts pleasures; appetites; sexual desires
333 sect cutting
scion graft; sucker

321 gardens] Q; our Gardens F 323 hyssop] F (Hisope); Isop Q 327 balance] Q;
braine F; beam Theobald 332 our] Q; or F 333 sect] QF; Set Johnson scion]
syen Q; Seyen F

335 permission perhaps alluding to God’s ‘permissive

will’, which tolerates the existence of evil (see Paradise
Lost, 3.685) 336 be a man Cf. 4.1.66.
337 blind i.e. new-born, therefore helpless
338 deserving desert, worthiness
cables strong ropes. Cf. Polonius, ‘Those friends thou hast,
and their adoption tried, / Grapple them unto thy soul
with hoops of steel’ (Ham 1.3.62–3).
339 perdurable imperishable
stead help, serve the needs of
340 Put … purse Cf. 304n. He means ‘sell your assets to
raise money’ and Roderigo understands (380).
follow i.e. as a hanger-on, not as a soldier
341 defeat destroy the beauty of, disfigure
favour appearance; face
usurped false, counterfeit; i.e. make yourself less pretty by
wearing a false beard (Roderigo is too young to have a
beard of his own: see 313n., 5.1.11n.). Cf. TN 5.1.250,
‘my masculine usurp’d attire’ (Ridley). Kittredge thinks
‘spoil thy pretty face by growing a beard to which it has
no right’.
344–8 The dashes come from Q. I suspect that Iago is
‘otherwise engaged’ as he speaks – tying a lace?
fencing with his shadow? – and throws out ‘Put money
…’ as if it’s no concern of his. Cf. Rosenberg, 126.
346 answerable corresponding
sequestration (lit. an act of sequestering or cutting off);
here probably = cessation, or sequel (Lat. sequor, I
follow). Cf. Dent, B262, ‘Such beginning such end’;
N321, ‘Nothing violent can be permanent.’
347 wills desires; whims; wilfulness
349 locusts ‘The carob groweth in Apulia … so full of
sweet juice that it is used to preserve ginger … [This is]
thought to be that which is translated locusts’ (Gerard’s
Herball, 1597, quoted Ridley).

337 have professed] F; professe Q 340 thou the] F; these Q 342 be] Q; be long
F 343 should long] Q; should F to] F; vnto Q 344 his] F; not in Q 345 in her]
F; not in Q

350 acerb bitter (from Cinthio’s acerbissimo)

coloquintida colocynth, a bitter apple. Its bitterness and
use as a purgative were noted in herbals.
for youth for a younger man than Othello
351 sated satiated
353–4 wilt needs must
354 delicate (ironical) delightful; finely sensitive
355 make raise
355–6 sanctimony lit. holiness; pretended holiness (OED
3, from 1618): cf. 262, ‘Vouch with me, heaven’. Or
perhaps more general, pretended goodness.
356 erring wandering; straying; sinning. Cf. extravagant,
1.1.134n.
Barbarian native of Barbary, the Berber country;
foreigner; a savage. Cf. Barbary horse, 1.1.110.
357 super-subtle super-crafty, referring to Desdemona as
a typically depraved Venetian (unique in Shakespeare)
358 tribe i.e. population; ‘and all the tribe of hell’ may
be an aside 360 clean … way vaguely facetious
(because a drowned body is clean and out of the way?)
and colloquial. We would say ‘that’s barking up the
wrong tree’. Clean = completely.
hanged (as a rapist?)
361 compassing obtaining; embracing
363–4 fast … issue firmly fixed (to support) my hopes, if I
await the outcome. Both fast and depend (OED 1: hang
down, be suspended) imply tying.
365 Thou … me Cf. 3.3.482, ‘I am your own for ever.’
art sure can be sure

350 acerb as] acerbe as the Q; bitter as F She … youth] F; not in Q 352 error]
Q; errors F she must … must] Q; not in F 357 a] Q; not in F 359 of] F; a Q
thyself] F; not in Q 359–60 it is] F; tis Q 363–4 if … issue] F; not in Q 366 re-
tell] F; tell Q

367 hearted fixed in the heart, determined

368 conjunctive united. Occurs twice in Shakespeare
(‘She is so conjunctive to my life and soul’, Ham
4.7.14); Q communicatiue (= in touch, in
communication) occurs nowhere else in Shakespeare.
369 cuckold make (him) a cuckold (by seducing his wife)
370 sport amusement
events (from Lat. evenire, to come out or forth)
consequences, outcomes 371 delivered i.e. brought
forth (like a new-born child); declared, made known (in
due time) 372 Traverse a military command (cf. 2H4
3.2.272) of uncertain meaning; perhaps ‘quick march!’
376 betimes early, in good time
377, 381 Go to a favourite phrase of his, used to jolly
others along, sometimes almost meaningless (= come
on; well then). Also biblical (Genesis 11.4, James 4.13,
5.1). ‘The Folio compositor, one guesses, jumped from
Go too, farewell, opening 377, to the later line which
also opens with Go to, farewell, and omitted the
intervening words. A conflation of Folio and Quarto is
necessary to restore the original text’ (Sisson,
Readings, 2.249).
378–81 What … purse For the different readings of Q and
F, see Texts, 47.
382 ever Iago is already a hardened cheater.
383 profane treat (the sacred) irreverently. He cynically
misuses the word, since his knowledge is evil, not
sacred as usually understood.
384 expend spend
snipe fool (OED: a term of abuse, first recorded here);
woodcock (a long-billed bird like a snipe) meant ‘gull’
or ‘dupe’ before Shakespeare

367 hath] F; has Q 368 conjunctive] F; communicatiue Q 370 me] F; and me Q

378–80 What … changed.] Q; not in F 380 I’ll … land.] F; not in Q; Ile goe
sell … land. Q2 381 Go … purse.] Q; not in F
385 sport Cf. 370, 2.3.374.
386 And ‘Rarely is a conjunction used so effectively: the
hate is prior, and a motive is then discovered’ (Heilman,
31).
abroad i.e. generally, widely
387 He’s Has (or, h’as, ha’s) could = he has: cf. 2.1.67.
office service, duty, function. A curious word for marital
intercourse. Cf. 4.3.86, ‘Say that they slack their
duties’.
388 in that kind of that nature
389 do proceed; perhaps picking up ‘done my office’ (387),
i.e. ‘do his office’ (cf. 2.1.293–7). Cf. 2H4 2.1.41–2, ‘do
me your offices’.
for surety for certain (OED 4c), i.e. as if it’s a certain fact
holds … well He is well-disposed towards me.
391 proper handsome; also admirable, perfect; appropriate
(OED 6–9) let me see … Cf. the free-wheeling
improvisations of the ‘clever slave’ of classical comedy,
and 402n.
392 his place Cf. 1.1.7ff.
plume up uncertain. Perhaps = ruffle the feathers, like a
bird that ‘displays’, hence make a show of, exhibit. Cf.
Lust’s Dominion (printed 1657, dated c. 1600),
‘Ambition plumes the Moor … to act deeds beyond
astonishment’ (Dekker, 4. 182).
will inclination; pleasure; determination
395 he Cassio
his Othello’s
396 person bodily presence
smooth dispose insinuating disposition
397 framed made, formed
398 free spontaneous, frank, unreserved
open not given to concealing thoughts or feelings; without
defence or protection (OED 16, 15). Curiously, Ben
Jonson echoed these words in describing Shakespeare.
399 Cf. Dent, T221, ‘They that think none ill are soonest
beguiled.’

387 He’s] Ha’s Q; She ha’s F 388 But] F; Yet Q 392 his] F; this Q plume] F;
make Q 393 In] F; A Q knavery. How? How?] F; knauery – how, how, – Q
let’s] F; let me Q 394 ear] Q; eares F 396 hath] F; has Q 398] F; The Moore
a free and open nature too, Q 399 seem] F; seemes Q

400 tenderly easily, gently (sarcastic)

led … nose Cf. Dent, N233, ‘To lead one by the nose (like a
bear, ass)’.
402 I have’t Cf. the clever slave’s habeo! (= I’ve got it, I’ve
solved the problem!) in Latin comedy: e.g. Terence,
Andria, 344, 498, etc. Echoed by Elizabethan
dramatists: cf. TS 1.1.189, Ham 4.7.154ff., ‘Soft, let me
see … I ha’t!’
engendered begotten, conceived
403 birth (OED 3b:) that which is borne in the womb. Cf.
371.
2.1
2.1.0.1MONTANO probably the governor of Cyprus replaced
by Othello: see t.n. and Honigmann, Stability, 44–6
1 cape projecting headland, land jutting into the sea.
Presumably the Gentleman speaks from the side or
back of the stage. In classical plays those on stage
sometimes observe a ship at sea (Plautus, Rudens,
162ff.; cf. WT 3.3.88ff.).
2 high-wrought agitated to a high degree (OED); or,
flinging itself high into the air (cf. 12ff.) (unique in
Shakespeare) flood (body of) water 3 main main sea,
open ocean
4 Descry ‘To catch sight of, esp. from a distance, as the
scout or watchman who is ready to announce the
enemy’s approach’ (OED 6) 5 at land on the land 6
fuller more complete (as in ‘full flood’, ‘full tide’: OED
8d) 7 ruffianed acted the ruffian (unique in
Shakespeare as verb)
8 ribs curved frame-timbers of a ship
mountains i.e. huge masses of water. Cf. ‘hills of seas’,
184. Adapted from Judges 5.5, ‘The mountains melted
from before the Lord’ (Steevens).

400 led … nose] led bit’h nose Q; lead by’ th’ Nose F 402 have’t] F; ha’t Q 403
SD] Q; not in F 2.1] Actus 2. / Scoena I. Q; Actus Secundus. Scena Prima. F
0.1] F; Enter Montanio, Gouernor of Cypres, with two other Gentlemen. Q 3
haven] Q; Heauen F 5 hath spoke] F; does speake Q 7 hath] F; ha Q 8 when
… them] F; when the huge mountaine meslt Q

9 *hold the mortise keep their joints intact (Sanders)

10 segregation dispersion, separation (unique in
Shakespeare)
11 foaming Q banning, the ‘harder reading’, could mean
cursing, chiding; an easy misreading, improbable here
 12 chidden i.e. repelled by the shore pelt strike, beat
(stronger than today: cf. KL 3.4.29, ‘the pelting of this
pitiless storm’) clouds See LN.
13 wind-shaked unique in Shakespeare (but cf. wind-
shaken, Cor 5.2.111) surge a high rolling swell of
water
mane with high-flying mane like a monstrous beast.
Knight’s spelling brings out the mane–main quibble.
Furness compared 2H4 3.1.20ff., where surge and
winds ‘take the ruffian billows by the top, / Curling
their monstrous heads’. According to Sisson, Readings,
the ‘sense of main is as in “with might and main”’ (=
power), and monstrous = portentous (2.250). But
monstrous could = huge, gigantic (OED 4), and the
line’s imprecision may be deliberate.
14 bear the constellation Ursa Minor (i.e. the Little Bear),
‘since the guards are the two stars in that constellation
next in brightness to the Pole Star’ (Ridley) 15 See LN.
16 molestation unique in Shakespeare; from Cinthio (cf.).
Lat. molestia = trouble, vexation; Shakespeare seems
to mean turmoil.
17 enchafed (probably enchafèd, eliding the to th’):
excited, furious If that if
18 ensheltered unique in Shakespeare
embayed unique in Shakespeare (= sheltered in a bay)
19 bear it out hold out, survive it

9 mortise] morties QF 10 SP] 2 Gent. Q; 2 F 11 foaming] F; banning Q 12

chidden] F; chiding Q 13 mane] Knight; mayne Q; Maine F 15 ever-fired]
euer fired Q; euer-fixed F 19 to] F; they Q 19.1 Third] Q; not in F

20 lads With the QF variants, cf. TC 3.1.108, lad (Q), Lord

(F); and Texts, 83, on a:o misreading.
21 desperate terrible
22 designment enterprise
halts (lit. ‘is lame’) is in doubt; stops
noble great, stately
23 wrack disaster, destruction (cf. ‘wrack and ruin’);
shipwreck
sufferance damage (inflicted on)
26 See LN.
29 and is (heading) for Cyprus with full delegated authority
here (OED commission 5)
30 governor ungrudging praise from the man replaced as
governor: see 2.1.0.1n.
31 comfort support, relief; a cause of satisfaction (OED 5)
*31.1 Cassio must enter earlier than QF direct, as he
overhears Montano’s speech. SDs were often placed in
the margins of a text, not precisely where required (see
Honigmann, ‘Stage direction’).
32 sadly gravely

20 SP] 3 Gent. Q; 3 F (throughout) lads] F; Lords Q our] F; your Q 21 Turks] F;

Turke Q 22 A noble] F; Another Q 24 their] F; the Q 25–6] as Q; one line F
25 in,] in: QF 26 Veronessa] Q; Verennessa F 28 on shore] F; ashore Q
himself] QF; himself’s Rowe 30] as Q; F lines on’t: / Gouernour. / 31.1] this
edn; after 42 QF 33 prays] Q; praye F

34 With by
35 served served under
36 full perfect
39 aerial atmospheric: ‘even till our eyes make the sea and
atmospheric blue a single indistinguishable sight’
41 expectancy expectance (a new word c. 1600)
42 arrivance (a coinage, unique in Shakespeare) i.e. more
arrivals
44 approve commend
48 bark a sailing vessel; ‘in 17th century sometimes
applied to the barca-longa of the Mediterranean’ (OED
3) 49 approved proved allowance acknowledgement
(OED 3), i.e. is acknowledged to be skilled and proved
good by experience 50–1 not … cure not indulged in
excessively, persist in their optimism (OED stand 72;
bold = confident, cure = care). ‘A verbal bubble that
disappears if one examines it too closely’ (Ridley).

34 heavens] F; Heauen Q 38 throw out] Q; throw-out F 39–40 Even … regard]

F; not in Q 39 aerial] Pope; Eriall F; Ayre all Q2 40 SP] as Q; Gent. F 42
arrivance] Q; Arriuancie F 43 Thanks, you] Thankes you, F; Thankes to Q
this] Q; the F warlike] F; worthy Q 44 O] F; and Q 45 the] F; their Q 48
pilot] F (Pylot); Pilate Q 50 hopes, not … death] hope’s not … death Q;
hope’s (not … death) F

51 SD within i.e. off stage

53 brow projecting edge of a cliff (over-looking the sea)
54 ranks rows
55 shape shape him (in imagination) to be the governor;
portray
56 shot of courtesy a cannon shot, in friendly salute (off
stage)
60 wived not quite the same as ‘married’. Cf. 3.4.195,
‘womaned’.
61 achieved acquired
62 paragons surpasses (OED 3, first here)
wild fame report at its wildest
63 quirks verbal subtleties
blazoning describing; boasting; proclaiming
64 And … creation = (?)in the essential clothing in which
she was created. I suggest ‘in her innermost nature’
(essential vesture = soul, not body). Or, in the ‘vesture
that is her essence’ (Capell).
51 opp. cure] Enter a Messenger. Q SP] Mess. Q; Within. F 53 SP] Mess. Q;
Gent. F 55 governor] F; guernement Q SD] Q (after least 57); not in F 56
SP] Q; Gent. F their] F; the Q 57 friends] F; friend Q 59 SP] Q; Gent. F SD]
Q; not in F 63 quirks of] F; not in Q 64 th’] F; the Q

65 tire the inginer = (?)exhaust the (powers of the) divine

inventor (God); i.e. she is God’s masterpiece. Inginer (=
author, inventor) is modern ‘engineer’, but stressed on
first syllable; could = a human artist (a painter, or one
who describes verbally), i.e. exhausts the one who tries
to do her justice. Muir notes that ‘“tyre” can mean
“attire”, as well as “weary”. Possibly “tire” was
suggested by “vesture” through an unconscious
quibble.’ Not too clear, hence Q’s weak substitution.
put in landed
66 ancient … general i.e. Iago was attached to the
general rather than to the army.
67 happy fortunate; successful
speed ‘includes the idea of “fortune”, as well as that of
celerity’ (Ridley)
68–73 The idea may come from the Orpheus legend:
Orpheus’ music made wild animals omit their deadly
natures.
69 guttered furrowed, grooved (by wind and water). Ovid
mentioned the rocks that surround Cyprus
(Metamorphoses, 10.6).
congregated sands sandbanks
70 ensteeped under water (a coinage). Q enscerped could
= enscarped (= sloping, from escarp: Hulme, 282).
clog obstruct
guiltless having no familiarity with or experience of (these
‘traitors’) (OED 3, from 1667) 71 omit forbear to use
72 mortal deadly
73 divine Desdemona Cf. ‘divine Zenocrate’ in 1
Tamburlaine, 5.1.135.
74 captain’s captain So AC 3.1.22; cf. Oth 2.3.305, ‘Our
general’s wife is now the general’, R3 4.4.336,
‘Caesar’s Caesar’, TN 3.1.102, ‘Your servant’s servant’.

65 tire the inginer] F (tyre the Ingeniuer); beare all excellency Q SD] Q (after
65); Enter Gentleman. F (after Ingeniuer) How] F; not in Q 66 SP] as Q;
Gent. F 67 SP] as F; not in Q He’s] He has Q; Ha’s F 68 high] F; by Q 69
guttered rocks] Q; gutter’d-Rockes F 70 ensteeped] F; enscerped Q clog] Q;
enclogge F 72 mortal] F; common Q 74] F lines of: / Captaine, / spake] F;
spoke Q

75 conduct charge, conducting

76 footing setting foot upon land (OED 1b, first here) 76–7
Whose … speed occurs earlier than we expected by a
week. She left after Cassio and Othello, who sailed
together (91; 1.3.278).
77–8 In Renaissance maps and pictures supernatural
beings blow ships, etc., across the seas.
79 tall tall-masted
80 love’s quick pants ‘The quick breathing that
accompanies and ensues upon the orgasm’ (Partridge,
162). Perhaps, but note that Cassio later resists sexual
imagery applied to Desdemona (2.3.14ff.). The ‘panting
of loving hearts’ was a commonplace (Lyly, 2.373, and
Lyly, Sapho, 1.1.22), ‘quick pants’ less so.
81 extincted extinguished (unique in Shakespeare)
84 let … knees kneel to her (out of courtesy)
85–7 Cassio uses (familiar) thee here, but you later (165).
An echo of ‘Hail Mary’, reinforced by kneeling and ‘the
grace of heaven’?
86 Could Shakespeare have known Donne’s (unpublished)
Elegy 19, ‘Going to Bed’? ‘License my roving hands,
 and let them, go / Before, behind, between, above,
below’.
on every hand on all sides
87 Enwheel encircle: a coinage

80 Make … in] F; And swiftly come to Q 82 And … comfort!] Q; not in F SD] as

F; Enter Desdemona, Iago, Emillia, and Roderigo. Q (after 80) 83 on shore]
F; ashore Q 84 You] F; Ye Q 88 me] Q; not in F

93 Parted our fellowship separated our ships

96, 97Good … good Note the touch of condescension in
good.
97 gall vex. For Iago’s delayed response, cf. 167ff.
98–9 That … courtesy i.e. that I offer a polite greeting to
your wife; it is my good manners (or upbringing) that
prompt me to this bold display of elegant behaviour
(kissing the ladies). Such kissing was ‘an English habit
rather than an Italian one’ (Bullough, 219).
99.1*Perhaps Emilia accepts the kiss too willingly, irritating
Iago. Does she have to give … her lips?
101 her tongue Iago coarsely hints at kissing, as well as
scolding, with the tongue.
bestows confers as a gift (sarcastic)
102 Alas … speech Poor thing! you have put her out; or,
alas, she’s not a talker.

91] as Q; F lines feare: / company? / 92 the sea] Q; Sea F 93 1SD] [within.] A

saile, a saile. Q (after 91); Within. A Saile, a Saile. F (after 93) 2SD] Guns /
Capell; not in QF 94 their] Q; this F 95 See … news] F; So speakes this
voyce: Q SD] Capell; not in QF 96 SD] Rowe; not in QF 99 SD] as Johnson;
not in QF 100 Sir] F; For Q 101 oft bestows] F; has bestowed Q 102 You’d]
Q; You would F
104 still always
list inclination. F leaue is possible: when I have her
permission to sleep (because she still goes on talking).
105 before in the presence of
106–7 ‘holds her tongue and thinks the more’ (Ridley)
109–13 prose in F, verse in Q: could be either. Cf. Dent,
W702, ‘Women are in church saints, abroad angels, at
home devils.’ There were many variations before
Shakespeare, e.g. ‘a shrew in the kitchen … an ape in
the bed’.
109 you He cheekily includes Desdemona!
pictures ‘silent appearances (of virtue)’ (Sanders). Or,
pretty as pictures, when you put on your best clothes to
go out, ‘with a suggestion that they owe their beauty to
painting’ (Kittredge).
110 Bells i.e. jangling bells
parlours A parlour was originally a room for conversation
(Fr. parler).
wild-cats Cf. TS 1.2.196, ‘Will you woo this wild-cat?’
kitchens i.e. in defending your territories
111 Saints … injuries ‘When you have a mind to do
injuries, you put on an air of sanctity’ (Johnson); or,
(you pretend to be) innocent when others have injured
you.
112 Players i.e. you play at housekeeping; it is not what
you give serious attention to *housewives After the
antitheses of 111, one expects ‘workers in your beds’.
Housewife = a woman who manages her household
with skill, or a ‘light’ woman, now hussy (OED 1, 2).
Hence ‘you are skilful managers in your beds’ (notice
the plural: he includes Desdemona).’
114 or … Turk a variant of ‘I am a Jew (rogue, villain) else’
(Dent, J49.1)
103 In faith] F; I know Q 104 it … have] F; it, I; for when I ha Q list] Q; leaue F
108 have] F; ha Q 109–13 Come … beds] prose F; Q lines as verse adores: /
Kitchins: / offended: / beds. / 109 of doors] adores Q; of doore F 112–13 in
… / Your beds] this edn 113 SP] F; not in Q

115 You He speaks even more directly to Desdemona than

at 109, attacking her sense of sexual privacy. Cf. the
voyeurism of 1.1.109ff., 3.3.413ff., 4.1.1ff.
117–64 ‘One of the most unsatisfactory passages in
Shakespeare’ (Ridley). Yet it shows how Iago wins an
ascendancy over others, his improvising skills (note
how Cassio is overshadowed), and that Desdemona
understands sexual innuendo.
117 of me She is not asking for compliments, but wants to
stop the marital bickering and places herself in the
firing line (as later with Othello-Cassio).
shouldst were to; had to
118 put me to’t challenge me to (do) it (OED put 28)
119 critical censorious
120 assay try, put me to the test
one someone
122–3 1I … otherwise perhaps an aside. Cf. AW 2.2.60–1, ‘I
play the noble housewife with the time, / To entertain it
so merrily with a fool.’
122 beguile disguise; divert attention from. An ominous
echo of Iago’s ‘I am not what I am’ (1.1.64)?
123 The … am i.e. the fact that I am an anxious wife
125 invention inventiveness; the thing invented. Slur as
‘my ’nvention’. But 125–8 may be meant as prose.
126 birdlime a viscous preparation spread on bushes to
snare birds (Ridley)
frieze coarse woollen cloth; i.e. comes from my thick head
just as sticky birdlime comes (with difficulty) from
frieze
117 wouldst thou] Q; would’st F 120] as Q; F lines assay. / Harbour? / 125–8] as
Q (verse); prose F

127–8 but … delivered quibbles on being in labour and

giving birth; my muse = my inspiring goddess (jocular:
he compares himself with Homer and classical poets
who invoke their Muse). Iago affects a gentlemanly
facility as versifier: cf. Jonson’s Stephano, who will
‘write you your halfe score or your dozen of sonnets at
a sitting’ (Jonson, 3.228), and LLL 4.2.50ff.
129–30 If … it semi-proverbial. Cf. Dent, F28, ‘Fair and
foolish, black and proud, long and lazy, little and loud’;
fair = beautiful, or fair-haired; wit = intellect, wisdom.
130 The … it Perhaps = each one is for use, and the other
(beauty or brains) makes use of it, i.e. they both need
each other.
131 black dark-haired.
witty endowed with good judgement
133 find Cf. 245–6, ‘the woman hath found him already’.
white a quibble on wight (cf. 158) = person; man. Here
black and white hint at a mixed union like Othello’s and
Desdemona’s. Q hit is possible: cf. The Wit of a Woman
(1604), B1b, ‘when you haue your mistresse, hange
your selfe, if you can not teach her a right hit it’, and
LLL 4.1.125–8.
blackness could = pudendum. ‘To hit the white’ = to hit
the centre of the target (cf. TS 5.2.186), and ‘shall her
blackness hit’ may quibble accordingly.
134 said admiringly in wit combats (Lyly, Endimion, 4.2.52;
Midas, 1.2.101); i.e. ‘progressively worse’ (OED 1c)
137 folly foolishness; unchastity (cf. 5.2.130: ‘She turned
to folly, and she was a whore’) (Sanders) an heir to
marry an heir; to have a bastard child
127 brains] F; braine Q 129–30, 132–3, 136–7, 141–2, 148–58, 160] as Q; italics
F 130 useth] F; vsing Q 131] as Q; F lines prais’d: / Witty? / 133 fit] F; hit Q
137 an heir] F; a haire Q

138 fond foolish

paradoxes contradictory or absurd sayings
139 miserable miserly, stingy; wretched; despicable
140 foul ugly; dirty
142 pranks i.e. sexual pranks or acts (cf. 3.3.205). Iago’s
rhymes have become more and more overtly sexual.
do Cf. 3.3.435n.
143 heavy grievous; distressing
143–4 thou … best (because he has said less in dispraise
of the worst?) 145 indeed ‘freq. placed after a word in
order to emphasize it’ (OED 1b), i.e. ‘a truly deserving
woman’. Thinking of herself? Or pointing to Emilia?
146 put on encourage, urge on (OED 46h), as in KL
1.4.208, ‘That you protect this course and put it on / By
your allowance.’ Hence, ‘one who, authorised by her
merit, did reasonably encourage (others to give) the
testimony of malice itself’: i.e. one who, sure of her
own merit, did not fear the worst that could be said
against her.
148–60 She … beer Cf. the nonsense verses in KL 3.2.81
ff., spoken by the Fool. Here Iago plays the fool to mask
his true character, as in 2.3.64ff., and to show off his
cleverness.
149 Had … will was never lost for words. Hart compared
Plutarch’s Lives (Cato), ‘he became a perfect pleader,
and had tongue at will’.
150 gay finely dressed
151 i.e. modestly refrained from what she wanted, and yet
knew when she might have it
153 i.e. did not seek to right her wrong and commanded
her anger to cease. Cf. Plautus, Stichus, 119 ff., ‘The
best proof of a woman’s excellence of character. Her …
having the chance to do wrong and the self-restraint
not to.’ Cf. Son 94.1, ‘They that have power to hurt and
will do none’.

138 fond] F; not in Q 139 i’th’] F; i’ the Q 142 wise ones] Q; wise-ones F 143
thou praisest] F; that praises Q 146 merit] F; merrits Q

154 frail weak; morally weak, unable to resist temptation

(cf. Mrs Frail in Congreve’s Love for Love) 155 See LN.
156 Cf. AYL 3.2.249, ‘Do you not know I am a woman?
when I think, I must speak.’
158 wight creature, person. Iago now pretends to be stuck.
Cf. 4.1.32n.
160 chronicle register, record; ‘be concerned with
trivialities’ (Sanders)
small beer trivialities (OED, first here, but likely to be
earlier) 161 lame (crippled, hence) weak
impotent ineffective, weak
164 profane brutal in expression (Johnson); irreverent
liberal unrestrained, licentious; could = gentlemanly (as in
‘liberal education’). Cassio picks up the second sense.
165 home directly, to the point
relish appreciate
166 in in the role of
scholar an unfortunate remark, as Cassio’s bookishness
particularly irritates Iago (1.1.23ff.) 167 palm could =
hand (OED 1); but cf. 252
well said Cf. 4.1.116n.
168 web could = a subtly woven snare, something flimsy
and unsubstantial (OED 4c). Iago stands aside, like a
spider watching a fly. If Cassio still holds Desdemona’s
 hand when Othello enters, this could be a poisonous
image in Othello’s mind later.
169 fly i.e. simpleton
170 *gyve fetter, shackle
courtesies courtly or elegant gestures
say true ironic: he does not hear what Cassio says,
ridiculing his body language

157] F; not in Q 158 wights] F; wight Q 167 SD] Rowe; not in QF 168 With] F;
not in Q 1] F; not in Q 169 fly] F; Flee Q 170 gyve … courtesies] giue thee
in thine owne Courtship F; catch you in your owne courtesies Q

171 tricks capricious or foolish acts; feats of dexterity

(OED 2, 5). Could also refer to Iago’s own tricks.
172 lieutenantry lieutenancy (OED, first here)
173 See LN.
174 apt ready, disposed
sir gentleman. For Iago’s ‘class hatred’.
176 clyster-pipes ‘a tube or pipe for administering
clysters’ (OED, first here). A clyster was a medicine
injected into the rectum. Ridley glossed as ‘syringe for
a (vaginal) douche’. The imagery (fingers, lips, pipes) is
partly sexual.
178 trumpet could = trumpeter; trumpet call; or, the
instrument. ‘Distinguished people had their own
recognizable calls … [cf.] KL 2.1.80 … [and] “Your
husband is at hand; I hear his trumpet” (MV 5.1.121)’
(Ridley).
179 receive i.e. welcome
SD Notice the build-up for this entry.
180 warrior Cf. 1.3.249ff., 3.4.152. In love poetry the
woman is sometimes addressed as a warrior (in love):
cf. Spenser’s Amoretti, 57.1, ‘Sweet warriour! when
shall I have peace with you?’ Is it significant that
 Othello turns first to Desdemona, though he arrives on
official duty as governor?
181 content pleasure, contentment; repeated (189, 194)
the word acquires overtones of self-indulgent
‘satisfaction’
182 soul’s joy Notice how often he refers to his soul.

173 kissed] F; rist Q 174 Very] F; not in Q 175 and] F; an Q 176 to] F; at Q
clyster-pipes] as Q; Cluster-pipes F 177 SD] Q (opp. 178); not in F 178 The
… trumpet!] speech cont. Q; new line F 179 SD] after trumpet 178 Q; after
comes 179 F 182] Q; F lines me. / Ioy: /

183 Cf. Dent, S908, ‘After a storm comes calm’; calms =

calms at sea; inner tranquillity.
184 wakened aroused, summoned into existence, i.e. till
they threaten our death 186 Olympus-high (a coinage)
as high as Mount Olympus, the fabled abode of the
gods in Greek mythology 187–91 If … fate a common
sentiment in classical writers. Cf. Virgil, Aeneid, 4.660,
Terence, The Eunuch, 551–2, ‘O heavens! this is a
moment when I could bear dissolution for fear life
pollute this exultation with some distress.’
187 If it were elliptical: if it were (my fate) now…
189 content quibble on content = containing capacity
(OED 5) 190 comfort delight, gladness; relief (after
distress)
191 Succeeds … fate can follow in our unknown,
predetermined futures. After Olympus-high, unknown
fate has Greek overtones.
191–2 forbid / But that double negative, i.e. ensure that
193 grow increase
Amen … powers Amen is biblical, sweet powers suggests
the pagan classical gods (esp. after 186, 191) (but cf.
Ham 3.1.141, ‘Heavenly powers, restore him!’). Cf.
 5.2.217, ‘O heauenly God’ (Q), ‘oh heauenly Powres’
(F).
194 speak enough of perhaps ‘speak highly enough of’ or
‘my words cannot express’. But Shakespeare may have
intended ‘I cannot speak. Enough of this content!’
(referring back to 181, 189).
195 stops chokes (OED 9). Preparing for his later choking,
esp. 4.1.36.
here pointing to his throat?
196 discords absence of harmony (music); disagreement,
strife. From Lat. cor = heart (cf. 197). Iago takes it in
the musical sense.

183 calms] F; calmenesse Q 192] as Q; F lines Loues / encrease / 193 powers]

F; power Q 194 speak … content] QF 196 discords] F; discord Q SD] Q; not
in F

198 set down slacken (the strings or pegs of a musical

instrument); perhaps also ‘bring low, or take down the
(human) pegs (= Othello, Desdemona) that make this
joyful music’ (OED set 143) 199–200 *as … am for all
my supposed honesty (Ridley). Why does Iago suddenly
bridle at the thought of his honesty? I suspect that we
need to complete 197: ‘That e’er our hearts shall make.
Honest Iago!’ (Othello greets Cassio warmly, and
merely nods to Iago saying ‘Honest Iago!’, i.e. well met,
then turns back to Desdemona).
202 old acquaintance old friend(s). Cf. 1H4 5.4.102,
‘What, old acquaintance! could not all this flesh / Keep
in a little life?’ (Hal to Falstaff); Auld Lang Syne,
‘Should auld acquaintance be forgot’.
203 desired sought after; with dramatic irony, since
Roderigo and Iago desire her more literally 205 out of
 fashion improperly, contrary to what is expected (OED
11). Cf. Tem 3.1.57, ‘I prattle / Something too wildly’.
207 coffers trunks, baggage. In Latin comedy a slave or
servant sometimes has to disembark his master’s
luggage (e.g. Plautus, Amphitruo, 629; cf. CE 5.1.410).
Othello treats Iago almost as a personal servant.
208 master captain (of merchant vessel) or navigating
officer (of ship of war) (OED 2) 210 challenge deserve
211 at As they are in Cyprus, at may be an error,
anticipating at, 212.

198 SD] Rowe; not in QF 198–200 O … am] this edn; prose F; Q lines now, /
musique, / am. / 201] as Q; F lines done: / drown’d. / 202 does my] F; doe
our Q this] F; the Q 211 SD] Exit. Q; Exit Othello and Desdemona. F

212 Do … harbour Perhaps addressed to a soldier, as Iago

tells Roderigo to meet him at the citadel (281). Exit
does not have to mean that Iago and Roderigo are left
alone (211, QF).
presently in a little while
213–15 as … them This could be an aside. Cf. Dent, D216,
‘Despair (love) makes cowards courageous.’
213 base worthless, ignoble
215 native natural
list listen to
216 watches is on duty or on guard
court of guard body of soldiers on guard (OED, corps de
garde); or, the watchpost occupied by the soldiers on
guard 217 directly plainly; completely 219 thus ‘On
thy mouth, to stop it while thou art listening to a wiser
man’ (Johnson). Cf. TC 1.3.240, ‘Peace, Troyan, lay thy
finger on thy lips!’; Judges 18.19, ‘Hold thy peace: lay
thine hand upon thy mouth, and come with us.’
let … instructed a mock catechism, with Iago as priest!
221 but … lies Iago dislikes Othello’s high-flown speech
(cf. 1.1.12–13); but = only; fantastical = existing only in
imagination, fabulous.
222 still always, constantly
prating boasting; idle chatter
discreet discerning, judicious
223 fed Feed = gratify (the vanity or passion of); feed one’s
eyes is pre-Shakespearian (cf. Faerie Queene, 2.7.4).
224 devil Cf. 1.1.90n.
225 dull sluggish, listless
sport sexual intercourse: cf. 5.2.210, ‘the act of shame’
226 satiety satiation
227 *loveliness loveableness; beauty. For the QF ‘common
error’ in punctuation, see Texts, 100.
favour attractiveness; appearance (OED 8, 9)
sympathy affinity; likeness

213 hither] Q; thither F 215 list me] Q; list-me F 216 must] F; will Q 217 thee
this:] F; thee, this Q 221–2 2and … love] Q; To loue F 222 thy] F; the Q 223
it] F; so Q 225 again] Q; a game F 2to ] F; not in Q 226–7 appetite,
loveliness] Theobald; appetite. Loue lines Q; appetite. Louelinesse F

229 required necessary

conveniences correspondences; aptitudes; advantages;
comforts
230 tenderness youthfulness; sensitiveness to impression
(OED 1, 3) abused cheated; injured
230–1 heave the gorge vomit
231 disrelish OED dis- 6: dis- forms compound verbs
which reverse the action of the simple verb. She
relished what went down as food but does not relish
what comes up as vomit.
very nature natural instincts themselves (Ridley)
233 pregnant obvious, cogent
234 unforced position natural proposition
eminent high
235 degree (lit. step, one of a flight of steps) stairway
leading to
fortune good fortune
knave crafty rogue
236 voluble inconstant, variable; fluent or glib of tongue
(more true of Iago than Cassio!) conscionable
governed by conscience
236–7 putting on feigning (OED put 46e); putting on the
mask of 237 form prescribed behaviour
civil … seeming well-bred and courteous appearance
238 compassing attaining; embracing
salt lecherous (cf. 3.3.407)
239 loose wanton, immoral
affection emotion; lust
slipper slippery
240 subtle skilful; crafty, cunning
occasions opportunities
241 eye perhaps a roving eye. Cf. 2.3.21, ‘What an eye she
has!’
stamp make a coin; engender. Cf. Cym 2.5.4ff.: ‘my father
was I know not where / When I was stamped. Some
coiner with his tools / Made me a counterfeit’.
advantages opportunities
*though Q the must be a misreading of tho (Texts, 44).
242 true honest, virtuous

232 in it] F; to it Q 234 eminent] F; eminently Q 236 farther] farder Q; further F

237 humane seeming] F; hand-seeming Q 238 compassing] Q; compasse F
238–9 most … affection] F; hidden affections Q 239 Why … 2none] F; not in
Q 239–40 slipper and subtle] F; subtle slippery Q 240 out of occasions] Q;
 of occasion F has] Q; he’s F 241–2 advantages … advantage] F; the true
aduantages Q 242 itself … knave] as F; themselues Q

244 folly foolishness; wickedness; wantonness

green immature
245 look after search for
pestilent poisonous, confounded (OED 4, often used
humorously) 246 found unclear (deliberately?); ‘seen
sympathetically what he is after’ (Sanders); or perhaps
= had. Cf. 133, KL 5.1.10–11, ‘have you never found my
brother’s way / To the forfended place?’
247 I … her Like Sir Andrew (TN 1.3.67) he is comically
overemphatic.
248 condition disposition; nature; quality
249 fig’s-end Cf. 1.3.320n.
249–50 The … grapes one of Iago’s vague general
assertions, which we have to interpret for ourselves. Cf.
Dent, W466, ‘No wine made of grapes but hath lees, no
woman created of flesh but hath faults’ (1580).
251 pudding could = sausage (as in black pudding). I
suspect euphemisms for ‘blest vagina’ (249), ‘blest
penis’ (251).
252 paddle toy, fondle. So Ham 3.4.185, ‘paddling in your
neck with his damned fingers’, WT 1.2.115.
255 index table of contents prefixed to a book; preface,
prologue
obscure unclearly expressed, hidden
259 mutualities intimacies
hard close
260 master (adj.) principal
exercise action, exertion, (sexual) ‘sport’
260–1 incorporate ‘united in one body’, i.e. the ‘beast with
two backs’ (1.1.115). Cf. VA 539–40, ‘Her arms do lend
 his neck a sweet embrace; / Incorporate then they
seem, face grows to face.’

246 hath] F; has Q 251 Blest pudding] F; not in Q 252–3 Didst … that?] F; not in
Q 254 that I did] F; not in Q 255 obscure] F; not in Q 258 Villainous …
Roderigo] F; not in Q 259 mutualities] Q; mutabilities F hard] F; hand Q
260 master and] F; not in Q th’] F; the Q
261 Pish! Cf. 4.1.42: exclamation of disgust or vexation, it
shows Iago reacting to his own voyeurism (or is he
pretending?).
261–2 But … me Iago switches to sir and you: he is coming
to the point.
261 ruled guided
263 For … you As for taking the lead (in our joint action),
I’ll leave it to you; ‘I’ll arrange for you to be appointed,
given orders’ (Bevington).
266 tainting disparaging
discipline military skill or professionalism
268 minister supply
270 sudden impetuous, abrupt, suddenly roused
choler (one of the four ‘humours’) in an irascible state
271 haply perhaps; by good luck
truncheon staff (carried by officers)
273 mutiny riot
qualification condition, nature; or, pacification: i.e. the
Cypriots will not be trustworthy again except by the
cashiering of Cassio 274 displanting removal 276
prefer advance
277 profitably advantageously
278 prosperity success. Note how Iago befogs with
abstractions.
281 warrant assure, promise
thee Iago has won him over, and reverts to thee.
261 Pish] F; not in Q 263 the] F; your Q 267 cause] Q; course F 270 he’s] F; he
is Q 271 haply] Q; happely F with … truncheon] Q (Trunchen); not in F 274
trust] Q; taste F again] F; again’t Q 278 the which] F; which Q 280 if you] F;
if I Q

282 necessaries i.e. coffers, 207.

Farewell Iago dismisses him. Adieu, 283, is more ‘upper-
class’.
284 loves For Iago’s curious reasoning, and the meaning of
‘love’, see Honigmann, Seven Tragedies, 87.
285 apt likely; fitting (in view of the theories he has
expounded, 220ff.)
credit credibility
286 howbeit however it may be
endure him not cannot stand him
289 dear fond, loving
290 absolute mere, pure and simple
peradventure as it happens
291 accountant responsible
as … sin i.e. revenge
292 diet Why not ‘feed’? Because revenge needs a special
diet.
293 For that because
lusty lustful
294 Hath … seat Cf. OED leap 9: ‘of certain beasts: to
spring upon (the female) in copulation’; 1H4 1.2.9,
‘leaping-houses’ (= brothels); Son 41.9, ‘Ay me, but yet
thou mightst my seat forbear’; H5 5.2.139, ‘I should
quickly leap into a wife’. Seat = sexual seat, his wife.
295 hinting at ulcers?
mineral Cf. 1.2.74n.
296 echoing 189, ‘My soul hath her content so absolute’
297 evened Cf. womaned (3.4.195), weaponed (5.2.264):
made even or quits.
wife for wife Cf. Exodus 21.1, 23–4, ‘These are the laws …
life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth’.

284 it] Q; ’t F 286 howbeit] F; howbe’t Q 287 loving, noble] F; noble, louing Q
291 accountant] Q; accomptant F 292 led] F; lead Q 293 lusty] F; lustfull Q
296 or] F; nor Q 297 evened] F (eeuen’d); euen Q 2wife] Q; wift F 299
jealousy] as Q; Ielouzie F

300 That … cure that no one’s good sense can cure it

301 poor trash worthless person
*trash See LN.
302 For … hunting ‘to prevent him from hunting too fast.
Iago has had to restrain and pacify Roderigo many
times, no doubt’ (Kittredge). Cf. for = ‘to prevent’ in
2H6 4.1.73–4, ‘dam up this thy yawning mouth / For
swallowing the treasure of the realm’.
quick energetic (ironic)
stand … on goes along with my incitement (OED put 46h)
303 our vaguely contemptuous: cf. 2.3.57.
on the hip at a disadvantage (a wrestling term). Cf. MV
4.1.334, Dent, H474, ‘To have one on the hip’.
304 Abuse slander
rank lustful
garb manner of doing anything, behaviour (OED 3); i.e.
misrepresent him as lecherous 305 night-cap a head
covering, worn in bed. Not likely to be worn by a lover:
Iago’s sense of humour runs away with him.
308 practising upon plotting against
309 Even to even till I bring him to
here here in my head. Cf. the clever slave in classical
comedy (Plautus, Pseudolus, 576).
confused not yet clearly worked out
310 plain simple, honest (sarcastic). Cf. Luc 1532.
seen i.e. seen clearly, until the moment comes when it has
to be used
2.2
2.2.0.1*Herald The Herald probably addresses the
audience, as if it consists of Cypriots. It is not clear how
much is read, how much spoken. QF print in roman
throughout, I print 1–7 in italics (assuming that this is
proclaimed, the rest spoken).
2 upon on the occasion of (OED 7a)

301 2trash] Steevens; crush Q; trace F 304 rank] Q; right F 305 night-cap] Q;
Night-Cape F 2.2] Scena Secunda. F; not in Q 0.1] as F; Enter a Gentleman
reading a Proclamation. Q 1 SP] F; not in Q SD] not in QF 1–7] italics this
edn; roman QF

3 importing communicating, stating

mere perdition total destruction
4 triumph public festivity, revelry (cf. the Venetian
carnival) 6 *addiction inclination; addition would =
rank beneficial beneficent, good
8 offices kitchens, butteries, etc. (Ridley)
9 liberty freedom of behaviour, beyond what is recognized
as proper (OED 5), as in MM 1.3.29, ‘liberty plucks
justice by the nose’
10 told counted; proclaimed; tolled
2.3.2 stop restraint
3 not to carry our revelling beyond the bounds of
discretion; outsport: unique in Shakespeare
7 with your earliest at your earliest convenience

3 every] as F; that euery Q 4 2to] F; not in Q 6 addiction] Q2; minde Q; addition

F 7 nuptial] as F; Nuptialls Q 9 of feasting] F; not in Q 10 have] F; hath Q
10–11 Heaven bless] Q; Blesse F 12 SD] F; not in Q 2.3] new scene
Theobald; scene cont. QF 0.1] as Q; Enter Othello, Desdemona, Cassio, and
Attendants. F 2 that] F; the Q 4 direction] F; directed Q 6 ’t] F; it Q
9 purchase (a richer word than now) acquisition; gain;
bargain; prize; something bought fruits anything
resulting from an action (OED 7), implying that the
marriage has still to be consummated. Cf. Homilies,
446 (‘Of matrimony’): marriage was instituted by God
‘to bring forth fruit’, i.e. children.
10 profit benefit; but after purchase the commercial sense
is also present 13–17Iago switches to prose; Cassio
(weakly?) follows suit.
13 Not this hour not for an hour yet
ten Cf. 2.2.10, five.
14 cast got rid of
15 *whom Cf. 1.2.52n.
16 hath … her i.e. has not yet slept with her 17 sport Cf.
2.1.225.
Jove Jupiter, a notorious womanizer in classical legends
18 exquisite accomplished; consummately perfect or
beautiful
19 game sport, spirit; ‘expert in love-play’ (Ridley)
20 Cassio comes halfway to Iago’s view. He might speak
thus of a prostitute (cf. Per 4.2.6–10, ‘We were never so
much out of creatures … let’s have fresh ones’); fresh
could = in prime condition; delicate could = pleasing to
the palate. Is he weak – or innocent?
21 What … has Cf. Marlowe, The Jew of Malta, 4.2.127,
‘What an eye she casts on me?’ (Ithamore of the
courtesan).
parley makes a trumpet call to an opponent: the usual
love–war metaphor 22 provocation challenge, defiance
(military or sexual)
23 right properly; very
24 alarum call to arms; sudden attack
10 That] F; The Q ’tween] F; twixt Q 11 SD] Q; Exit. F 13–14 o’th’ clock] F;
aclock Q 15 whom] F2; who QF 18 She’s] F; She is Q 20 she’s] F; she is Q
21–2] QF lines (as verse?) has? / prouocation. / 22 to] F; of Q 23–4] F lines
eye: / modest. / speakes, / Loue? / 24 alarum] F; alarme Q

25 perfection Cf. 1.3.101.

26 sheets Cf. Pigmalions Image (1598), ‘Sweet sheetes …
Sweet happy sheetes’ (lover to loved one’s bedsheets)
(John Marston, Poems, ed. A. Davenport [Liverpool,
1961]).
27 stoup flagon, tankard (of varying sizes)
without outside
brace couple (Iago may understate, to get Cassio to agree)
28 fain gladly
measure liquid measure, i.e. toast
31 unhappy troublesome; unfortunate (OED 1, 3) 33
entertainment social behaviour; receiving guests
(OED 4, 11) 34 cup wine cup (which could have a foot
and stem and lid); or, a cup with the wine it contains, a
cupful 37 craftily skilfully qualified diluted
innovation revolution, change. What is Iago to behold? Is
Cassio unsteady on his legs (= here, 38)?
39 task test
40 man (less polite, putting pressure on Cassio)
gallants (military) followers; men of pleasure
44 it dislikes me I’m not happy about it
45 fasten … upon induce acceptance of: ‘if I can get him
to drink just one cupful’

25 She] F; It Q 29 black] F; the blacke Q 36 have] F; ha Q 38 unfortunate] as Q;

infortunate F
47 offence aggressiveness, readiness to give or take
offence
48 As … dog as any young lady’s lapdog (some small dogs
are especially aggressive) sick love-sick
Roderigo extra-metrical
49 perhaps ‘whom love has made almost the opposite of
what he was’. Cf. 4.2.148, ‘turned your wit the seamy
side without’.
50 caroused drunk (a health); drunk repeatedly
51 Potations drinks, draughts
pottle-deep a coinage: to the bottom of a half-gallon
tankard
watch i.e. for Cassio: 2.1.260ff.
52 else others
swelling proud, haughty
53 that keep their honours cautiously at a distance (from
disgrace), i.e. that are quick to take offence
54 elements essential constituents, i.e. the life-blood. This
word was sometimes spoken ‘in inverted commas’ (cf.
TN 3.1.58, 3.4.124).
this warlike isle Cf. 2.1.43.
55 flustered befuddled
flowing poured out without stint. So H5 4.3.55.
56 the F they is possible. For final -y and final twirls
misread in Q and F, see Texts, 85.
watch (military) watchmen or sentinels
flock One thinks of sheep or geese.
57 Am I to I have to, the plan is to
our Cf. 2.1.303n.
58 offend vex; injure

48] as Q; F lines dogge. / Rodorigo, / 49 hath] F; has Q out] F; outward Q 51

watch.] F; watch Q 52 else] F; lads Q 53 honours] F; honour Q 56] as Q; F
lines too. / drunkards / the] Q; they F 57 Am I] F; I am Q to put] Q; put to F
 58 SD] F (after 58); Enter Montanio, Cassio, and others. Q (opp. 58) 59 if
that which follows only confirms my daydream, i.e. if the result bears out
my hopes
60 Cf. Dent, W429, ‘Sail with wind and tide’; freely =
without hindrance, just as I want. For similar summing-
up lines, cf. TC 2.3.266, ‘Light boats sail swift, though
greater hulks draw deep’; JC 5.1.67, ‘Why now blow
wind, swell billow, and swim bark!’, Cym 4.3.46.
61 rouse carouse, a full bumper
65ff. For the song cf.
65 cannikin small drinking can; -kin is diminutive (=
German -chen), as probably in napkin (OED -kin, suffix)
clink i.e. against someone else’s 68 Cf. Dent, L251,
‘Life is a span’, from Psalms 39.6, ‘thou hast made my
days as it were a span long’; span = a short distance or
space of time.
72 in England This draws attention to the play as a play:
cf. Ham 5.1.148ff.
73 potent in potting go in for drinking in a big way.
Drinking songs before Oth praised the superior potting
of the English (Lyly, Sapho, 3.2.76ff., ‘O! thats a roring
Englishman, / Who in deepe healths do’s so excell, /
From Dutch and French he beares the bel’) or of the
singers themselves (Lyly, Mother Bombie, 2.1.149ff.).
73–9 Your Note the force of Iago’s repeated your (not quite
the same as the indefinite article or ‘a typical Dane’,
etc.): Iago wants to generate camaraderie.
74 swag-bellied with a belly that sags or wobbles

61 God] Q; heauen F 62–3] prose F; verse Q pint, / Good faith] Q; Good-faith F

64.1] Rowe; not in QF 65–9, 85–92] italics QF (except 85 Q) 65 cannikin] Q;
Cannakin F 66 clink] F; clinke, clinke Q 67–8] one line QF 68 O, man’s] F; a
Q 71 God] Q; Heauen F
76 exquisite accomplished. Cassio, drunk, gets ‘stuck’ on
this word, which he had used before (2.3.18); slurred
by some actors as ‘ex-qust’.
78 he … overthrow he can easily outdrink
Almain German
79 pottle a half-gallon tankard
82–3 do you justice drink level with you (Ridley)
85ff. See LN.
85 and-a Cf. TN 5.1.389, ‘When that I was and a little tine
boy’; KL 3.2.74. A metrical ‘fill in’ used in ballads
(Furness).
86 a crown five shillings
88 lown loon, rogue; a man of low birth
89–91 Does Iago sing these lines at Cassio, thus provoking
105ff.?
91 perhaps ‘it is extravagance in dress that causes hard
times in our country’ (Kittredge)
92 auld old, as in ‘auld lang syne’ (dialectal)
97 unworthy Vaguely aware of professional misconduct, he
is too befuddled to pin down or complete his thought.

76 Englishman] Q; Englishmen F exquisite] F; expert Q 82 I’ll] F; I will Q 84

SD] not in QF 85 and-a] F; a Q 87 them] F; ’em Q 92 Then] Q; And F thine]
Q; thy F auld] owd Q; awl’d F 94 ’Fore God] Q; Why F 97 to be] F; not in Q

98 God’s above all Cf. Dent, H348, ‘Heaven (God) is above

all.’
99 be saved find salvation, go to heaven. Cf. Matthew
10.22, ‘he that endureth to the end shall be saved’.
102–3 Cf. Sir Andrew (TN 1.3.117–18) who thinks himself
as good as ‘any man in Illyria, whatsoever he be, under
the degree of my betters’.
103 quality high birth, good social position (i.e. excluding
Iago)
105 not … me Cf. MA 4.2.19–20, ‘write God first, for God
defend but God should go before such villains!’
107 affairs i.e. duties
107–8 God … sins Cf. the Lord’s Prayer.
110 right … left Cf. Dent, H74, ‘He knows not (knows) his
right hand from his left.’
116 platform gun-platform
masters gentlemen
set the watch mount the guard
117 fellow man; but could = worthless person (OED 9,
10c), i.e. obliquely contemptuous

98 does … those] this edn; does those QF God’s] Q; heau’ns F 99 1must] F; that
must Q 99–100 and … saved] F; not in Q 101 It’s] F; It is Q 104 too] F; not
in Q 106 have] F; ha Q 107 God] Q; not in F 110 left] F; left hand Q 111 I
speak] F; speake Q 113 SP] Gent. F; All. Q 114 Why] F; not in Q 2then] F;
not in Q 116 To th’ platform] F; To the plotforme Q

118 stand by Caesar i.e. as an equal; or, as his right-hand

man
120 It counterbalances his virtue as exactly as day and
night are equal at the equinox.
121 pity of a pity about
122 trust position of trust. But Capell’s in him (for him in)
may be right.
123 at some unusual (or, unexpected) time, when he suffers
from his infirmity
124 shake (?)convulse (deliberately vague?)
125 evermore emphatic form of ‘ever’
126 He’ll stay awake twice round the clock or horologe
(‘while the clock strikes two rounds, or four-and-twenty
 hours’ [Johnson]).
127 cradle unexplained; perhaps ‘if drink doesn’t rock him
asleep, like a baby in a cradle’. But this is suspiciously
abrupt: cf. 2H4 3.1.19–20, ‘Seal up the ship-boy’s eyes,
and rock his brains / In cradle of the rude imperious
surge’, which is immediately intelligible. Perhaps a
misreading (cradle for nodle)? Viz. ‘if drink doesn’t
unsteady his brain’. Cf. TS 1.1.64, ‘your noddle’ (= your
head).
128 put in mind made aware
130 Prizes esteems
virtue unusual ability
131 looks not on disregards
evils i.e. faults

118 He is] Q; He’s F 122 puts] F; put Q 125 the] Q; his F 127–8 It were … it] as
F; one line Q 127 It were] F; Twere Q 130 Prizes] F; Praises Q virtue] F;
vertues Q 131 looks] F; looke Q 132 SD] Capell; not in QF

135–6 should risk such a place as that of his own deputy by

entrusting it to one with an ingrained weakness (ingraft
= engraffed, grafted on)
137 action three syllables. Perhaps ‘so’ should begin 138.
140.1Q ‘driuing in’ = Tem 5.1.255, ‘Enter Ariell, driuing in
Caliban’, i.e. chasing on to the stage, whereas usually
in = off stage, like within (cf. 5.2.84ff.). See Texts, 161.
143 beat Social inferiors were beaten, equals had to be
challenged. In classical comedy and its derivatives
beatings were a comic routine: cf. TS 4.1.165, etc., CE
2.2.23.
144 twiggen made of twigs or wicker-work (= Q wicker),
‘like a Chianti flask’ (Ridley); i.e. the criss-cross of
weals on his body will look like wicker-work 146 prate
chatter; could = speak boastfully or officiously 150
 mazzard cup, bowl; (jocular) head. Cf. Ham 5.1.89. No
doubt bottles and drinking cups were used in this
scene.

133 SD] Q; not in F 137–8 It were … Moor] as F; one line Q 138 Not] F; Nor Q
139 SD] Helpe, helpe, within Q; not in F 140.1] pursuing F; driuing in Q
141 Zounds] Q (Zouns); not in F 143 duty? I’ll] as F; duty: but I’le Q 144
twiggen bottle] Twiggen-Bottle F; wicker bottle Q 147–50] as Q; F lines as
verse Lieutenant: / hand. / (Sir) / Mazard. / 147 Nay … I pray you] F; Good
… pray Q

153 mutiny riot

155 ho! could = whoa, a call to stop or cease what one is
doing (OED int. 2) 156 goodly fine (ironical)
157 the bell the alarm bell
Diablo devil. Only once in Shakespeare in this Spanish
form (Iago is a Spanish name).
158 rise take up arms; revolt
159 shamed disgraced (Texts, 118, 141)
161 he dies I’ll kill him (cf. 5.1.10). Some, following Q2,
treat he dies as a SD, but (1) Montano does not die, (2)
the metre requires he dies.
for your lives if you value your lives
163 *Hanmer’s transposition must be right.

151 you’re] F; you are Q 152 SD] Q; not in F 153 1SD] Aside Capell; not in QF
2SD] not in QF; Exit Rod. Q2 154 God’s will] Q; Alas F 155 Montano – sir]
Montanio, sir, Q; Montano: F 156 SD] A bell rung: Q opp. 153; not in F 157
which] F; that Q 158 God’s will] Q; Fie, fie F hold] Q; not in F 159 You …
shamed] Q; You’le be asham’d F 159.1] F; Enter Othello, and Gentlemen
with weapons. Q 160 Zounds] Q; not in F 160–1 I bleed … dies] one line F
161 th’] F; the Q he dies!] He dies. F; not in Q; he faints. Q2 (SD) SD] this
edn; not in QF; assailing Cassio again. Capell 162 ho] F; hold Q sir –
 Montano –] sir Montanio, Q; Sir Montano, F 163 sense of place] Hanmer;
place of sence QF 164 hold] F; hold, hold Q 165 ariseth] F; arises Q

166–7 See LN.

168 put by give up
barbarous Cf. 1.3.356n.
169 carve cut, cleave. Cf. Dent, C110, ‘To be one’s own
carver’; Faerie Queene, 2.8.22, ‘I can carve with this
inchaunted brond [sword]’. Perhaps alluding to
‘carving’ meat at table.
170 light of small value
upon his motion the instant he moves (Ridley)
171 dreadful (stronger than now) terrifying
172 propriety proper character, own nature (i.e.
peacefulness)
masters (He recognizes their social standing.)
174 on … thee By your love (affection) for me, I order you
(to speak).
175 all, Some editors drop F’s comma.
but only
176 quarter relations with, conduct towards, another (OED
17) terms language
like … groom Is this meant to be cheeky (glancing at
Othello and Desdemona)?
177 Divesting them undressing themselves
178 unwitted deprived of wits (OED, first here). It was
thought that planets, if they came too near, could make
men mad. Cf. Dent, P389, ‘To be planet-struck’, and
5.2.108–10.
179 tilting thrusting
180 speak reveal (OED 28)
181 peevish senseless; headstrong (OED 1, 4)
odds disagreement, quarrel (OED: in sixteenth century
regularly construed as singular) 183 a … it i.e. take
part in it

167 hath] F; has Q 169 for] F; forth Q 172 What is] F; what’s Q 173 look’st]
Hanmer; lookes QF 175 all,] F; all Q 177 for] F; to Q 179 breasts] F; breast
Q 183 Those] F; These Q

184 are thus forgot have thus forgotten yourself

186 civil civilized (as befits a citizen)
187 stillness quietness of temper
188 great i.e. greatly praised
189 In … censure in the mouths of men of wisest
judgement 190 unlace undo (the laces of a purse); cut
or carve (a boar or rabbit: a hunting term) (OED 1, 3)
191 spend waste, destroy opinion reputation
192 night-brawler unique in Shakespeare
193 to danger to the point of danger
195 something somewhat
offends hurts (understatement)
198 self-charity regard for one’s self (unique in
Shakespeare). Many new compounds with ‘self’
appeared in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries;
Shakespeare coined several (cf. 3.3.203).
201 blood passion, anger
202 collied darkened: so MND 1.1.145, ‘Brief as the
lightning in the collied night’

184 comes … are] F; came … were Q 186 Montano … wont to] F; Montanio …
wont Q 189 mouths] F; men Q 192 it] F; ’t Q 198 sometimes] F; sometime Q
202 collied] F; coold Q; quell’d Capell 203 Assays tries
stir begin to act, bestir myself
205 sink fall; go down to hell (OED 2, obsolete) my rebuke
the shameful check (or, disgrace; reprimand) that I
 shall give him 206 foul rout disgraceful brawl
207 approved confirmed (guilty)
208 twinned … birth been my twin, both born at one birth.
Twins can be born close together or with an interval
between them.
209 town of war garrison town
210 wild unruly, uncontrolled
the … fear But cf. 2.1.201, ‘our wars are done’.
211 manage conduct
domestic internal
212 In night usually ‘in th(e) night’: in Shakespeare’s hand
th sometimes looked like a meaningless squiggle (Texts,
84), so was dropped by a copyist and on … safety and
on the courtyard and (during) the guard duty meant to
protect our general safety. But Theobald’s
transposition, ‘of guard and’, may be right (cf. 163).
213 monstrous a trisyllable (monsterous) (Malone)
214 *If … office if bound (to Cassio) by partiality, or
because he’s a colleague 215 more … truth Cf. Dent,
T590, ‘The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the
truth’.
216 Touch charge, take to task (OED 19)
near closely
218 offence harm

203 Zounds] as Q; not in F once] F; not in Q 210 brimful] Q; brim-full F 211

quarrel] F; quarrels Q 212 and guard of] QF; of Guard and as Theobald 213
began’t] F; began Q 214 partially] F; partiality Q leagued] Pope; league QF
217 have] F; ha Q cut] F; out Q

220 nothing (adverb) not at all, in no way

Thus it is so Cor 1.3.96
223 him perhaps an error (anticipating him, 224) (Malone)
determined transferred epithet: Cassio was
determined
sword At 2.1.269ff. Iago spoke of what might happen. At
2.3.143 Cassio said he would beat Roderigo, perhaps
with the flat of his sword.
224 execute upon bring (a weapon) into operation against;
but also implies ‘put to death’ (OED 1b, 6) this
gentleman Montano 225 his pause i.e. him to pause
229 the rather all the more quickly
230 fall downward stroke (of a sword): so R3 5.3.111
231 high loud (as in ‘high words’)
235 This short line may mark a pause (Iago wipes his
brow?). It also marks a change of tactics: having
described what happened, he ‘defends’ Cassio.
237 Cf. Dent, M541, ‘Men are (but) men’; B316.1, ‘The best
go astray’; forget = forget themselves, or, forget their
responsibilities.
238 him Montano
239 those … best even those who are most favourably
disposed towards them 241 indignity insult

220 Thus] Q; This F 229 the] Q; then F 231 oath] F; oaths Q 232 say] F; see Q
236 cannot I] F; can I not Q

242 pass let pass, agree to

243 love affection (for Cassio). The word is used three
times in four lines, with different connotations.
mince this matter Cf. Dent, M755, ‘To mince the matter’.
Viz. make light of or extenuate this fault.
244 Making … Cassio making light of it for Cassio’s
benefit 245 Cf. LN, 1.1.8 and 1.1.16n. Othello
personally appoints and dismisses his officers.
247 Cf. Dent, E212.1, ‘To make one an example’.
248 sweeting sweetheart
250 I’ll make it my business that your wounds are properly
treated, presumably by the general’s surgeon (5.1.100).
Some think that Othello himself dresses Montano’s
wounds (Bradshaw, 151, 164).
Lead him off. ‘I am persuaded, these words were
originally a marginal direction’ (Malone), i.e. were
accidentally printed as dialogue. Cf. Texts, 38.
252 distracted threw into confusion
254 balmy slumbers Having just heard that Othello and
Desdemona are bride and groom (14, 171), are we
really to believe in their balmy slumbers?

244.1] F (after 245); Enter Desdemona, with others. Q (opp. 245, 246) 248
dear] F; not in Q now] Q; not in F 250 SD] as Capell; not in QF 252 vile] Q;
vil’d F 254 SD] Exit Moore, Desdemona, and attendants. Q (after 255); Exit.
F

257 God forbid common in the Bible (Genesis 44.7, Joshua

22.29, Romans 3.4, 6, 31, etc.): usually a pious person’s
phrase 259ff.Cf. R2 1.1.177–8, ‘The purest treasure
mortal times afford / Is spotless reputation’; Dent,
C817, ‘He that has lost his credit is dead to the world.’
Usually one’s soul is ‘the immortal part’.
263 sense capability of feeling
264 idle baseless, useless
265 imposition something imposed (by others)
266–7 You … loser Cf. Dent, M254, ‘A man is weal or woe
as he thinks himself so.’
267 repute consider
man Cf. 40.
268 recover regain (possession of), win back
269 cast … mood cast off in his (passing) mood of anger
270 malice ill-will, enmity
270–1 as … lion Cf. Dent, D443, ‘Beat the dog (whelp)
before the lion.’ Also proverbial in French: Cotgrave
glossed ‘To punish a mean man in the presence of and
for an example to the mighty’. Here the ‘lion’ is either
the Venetian army or the Cypriots (Othello has to
establish his authority with both).
271 offenceless unoffending
Sue petition (him to pardon you)
274 slight worthless

257 God] Q; Heauen F 258–61] as F; Q lines my reputation: / selfe, / reputation,

/ reputation. / 258 Reputation] twice Q; three times F O, I have] F; I ha Q
259 have] F; had Q part] F; part sir Q 262 thought] Q; had thought F 263 of
sense] Cam 1892 (anon.); offence Q; sence F 268 ways] Q; more wayes F
274 slight] F; light Q

275 indiscreet lacking in sound judgement; inconsiderate

Drunk? F often uses? where we would put! (as perhaps
here).
speak parrot babble senselessly. Cf. Dent, P60, ‘To speak
(prate) like a parrot’.
276 swagger quarrel, squabble
fustian nonsense
287 pleasance pleasure, enjoyment
288 transform … beasts perhaps alluding to the Circe
story 289–90 how … recovered How did it come about
that you have thus recovered?
291–2 Cf. Ephesians 4.27, ‘Neither give place to the devil’.
Drunkenness (= gluttony?) and wrath could be two of
the seven deadly sins. ‘The whole of Cassio’s
apostrophe … finds a close parallel in Ecclus. 31.25–31’
(Noble, 217).
292 wrath could mean anger with himself (273ff.), and that
he has not recovered, because still angry; or, anger
 with Roderigo unperfectness (unique in Shakespeare)
imperfection 293 frankly undisguisedly; unreservedly
294 moraler moralizer (a coinage)
297 mend rectify

275 so] F; not in Q 275–7 Drunk? … shadow?] F; not in Q 285 God] Q; not in F
287–8 pleasance, revel] F; Reuell, pleasure Q 289 Why,] Q; Why? F 295
and] F; not in Q 296 not] F; not so Q

299 Hydra The many-headed monster of Greek mythology,

which it was one of Hercules’ tasks to destroy; ‘as each
head was cut off, two more grew in its place’ (Ridley).
Cf. Dent, H278, ‘As many heads as Hydra’.
300 stop plug, close. Cf. Dent, M1264, ‘To stop one’s
mouth’.
301 by and by soon afterwards
presently in a little while
beast Cf. Dent, B152.1, ‘A drunken man is a beast.’
302 inordinate immoderate. Only found three times in
Shakespeare: Luc 94, 1H4 3.2.12 both read in-, so F is
likely to be right here.
303 ingredience that which enters into a mixture (OED);
cf. Mac 1.7.11, 4.1.34.
304 familiar friendly; ‘punning on the sense of “familiar
spirit”, with an emphasis on good; he half admits that
wine may be a devil, but good wine well used is a good
devil’ (Ridley) 304–5 See LN.
305 well properly
307 approved proved by experience
sir Cassio senses that Iago puts pressure on him.
309–10 Our … general Cf. 2.1.74; Ovid, Heroides, 9.114,
‘you are victor over the beast, but she over you’.
311 for that that
312 mark marking, observation
*denotement Cf. 3.3.126. Here = nothing(?); Q ‘deuoted …
to the … deuotement’ must be wrong. F followed Q; the
corruption may involve more than a turned letter (u/n).
313 parts personal qualities. Cf. MA 5.2.60, ‘for which of
my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?’
graces pleasing qualities

300 them] F; em Q 302 O strange!] F; not in Q inordinate] F; vnordinate Q 303

ingredience] Q; Ingredient F 308 some] Q; a F 309 man] F; not in Q I’ll] Q; I
F 311 hath] F; has Q 312 mark] Q; marke: F denotement] Q2; deuotement
QF 314 help] F; shee’ll helpe Q

315 free generous; ready, willing (to grant) (OED 4, 20)

apt fit, ready
blest a disposition He appropriates a thought he had
previously ridiculed (2.1.249–51).
317–18 This … splinter Cf. Dent, B515, ‘A broken bone is
the stronger when it is well set’; 2H4 4.1.220, ‘like a
broken limb united, / Grow stronger for the breaking’;
splinter = apply splints to.
319 lay wager
crack partial fracture (OED 7b)
323 kindness natural inclination; affection
324 freely unreservedly
betimes early
325–6 undertake for me take my case in hand
326 I … of I have lost hope concerning
check stop
328 You … right You are right; also hinting ‘you have
justice on your side’, i.e. you have been badly treated.
331 He picks up where he left off at 2.1.308, but now
knavery sees clearly how to proceed. Note his alertness
 to possible reactions.
332 free frank and open; honourable; freely given
333 Probal probable; or, ‘such as approves itself’ (from
Lat. probo, I prove, make credible). A nonce word. Cf.
admiral = admirable (Dekker, Patient Grissill, 2.2.91).
Iago has a habit of weighing probabilities: 2.1.282ff.,
5.1.11ff.

315 of so] F; so Q 316 that] Q; not in F 317 broken joint] F; braule Q 320 it was]
F; twas Q 324–5 I will] F; will I Q 327 here] Q; not in F 331] as Q; F lines
then, / Villaine? /

334 win regain the favour of

335 inclining mentally inclining (to be helpful); perhaps
physically leaning (towards a suitor) subdue win
336 framed made, fashioned
fruitful beneficial; generous
337 As … elements It is her nature to be as beneficial (to
others) as the unrestrained elements are there to be
used.
338 win win over
339 seals tokens. Cf. Ephesians 4.30, ‘the holy spirit of
God, by whom ye are sealed unto the day of
redemption’ (i.e. the Anglican doctrine of baptism:
Noble, 218).
redeemed redeemed (Christ as Redeemer delivers us from
sin); paid for, ransomed 341 list likes
342 her appetite ‘his desire for her’ (Ridley); or, her fancy,
inclination 343 weak enslaved
function natural instincts (Ridley); or perhaps ‘functioning
(of mental and moral powers)’
344 parallel course i.e. it seems to lead straight to his
advantage but in fact takes him in the opposite
direction, to his destruction.
345 Divinity of hell! ‘O, the theology of hell!’ Or, he
addresses Satan, ‘O god of hell!’ Cf. 1.3.358.
346 devils (including himself!). Cf. Dent, D231, ‘The devil
can transform himself into an angel of light.’
put on incite
347 suggest prompt, tempt
349 Plies solicits
351 pestilence that which is morally pernicious. Cf. Ham
1.5.63–4, ‘in the porches of my ears did pour / The
leprous distillment’.

334] as Q; F lines againe. / easie / 335 Th’] F; The Q 338 were’t] Q; were F 346
the] F; their Q 348 whiles] F; while Q 349 fortune] F; fortunes Q

352 repeals tries to get him restored to his former position

(OED 3d); lit. recalls 354 credit reputation;
trustworthiness
355 pitch suggests blackness and foulness, and ‘a snaring
substance, like birdlime … leading on to the net’
(Ridley) 357 enmesh catch or entangle, as in a net
(unique in Shakespeare). Cf. 2.1.168 ensnare.
359 cry pack, ‘the hounds who merely give tongue as they
follow those who are really running the scent’ (Ridley)
361 cudgelled Cf. 143n.
361–2 I … pains Cf. Dent, L1, ‘He has his labor for his
pains’; i.e. so much experience and nothing more.
363 wit sense
365 Cf. Dent, P103, ‘He that has no patience has nothing.’
367 we How much wit has Roderigo contributed?
wit cleverness, good judgement
370 cashiered (succeeded in having Cassio) dismissed; cf
(to ‘cass’ = to cashier).
357] QF lines all: / Roderigo? / enmesh them] enmesh em Q; en-mash them F
SD] opp. all 357 Q; after 357 Rodorigo F 360 have] F; ha Q 361 and] F; not
in Q 362–4 pains … Venice] as F; paines, as that comes to, and no money at
all, and with that wit returne to Venice. Q 365 have] F; ha Q 367 know’st] F;
knowest Q 369 Does’t] Do’st Q; Dos’t F hath] F; has Q 370 hast] Q; hath F

371–2 ‘Though other plants grow vigorously when exposed

to (= against) the sun, yet fruit trees that blossom first
will bear ripe fruit first’ (NB this is not always true); i.e.
though others thrive in Desdemona’s favour, we’ll
succeed in bringing our plots to fruition. In this false
analogy blossom = Cassio’s cudgelling!
373 By the mass a mild oath, hence changed in F, found
also in plays with Protestant settings (Ham 2.1.50,
3.2.378, etc.). Cf. 3.3.74n.
374 Cf. Dent, H747, ‘Hours of pleasure are short.’
375 billeted assigned quarters (troops, or others)
378 My wife Do husbands think of ‘my wife’, or think of
her by name? Here my wife helps the audience. Cf.
5.2.95–6.
move solicit
379 Short lines in Iago’s soliloquies suggest pauses, as he
thinks of a new stratagem (cf. 1.3.400, 3.3.323).
380 *the while in the meantime
381 jump precisely (at the moment when)
383 Dull an imperative, addressed to himself: ‘don’t let the
plot lose its momentum’
device plot, stratagem; pleasure, desire (OED 3, 6)
coldness lack of enthusiasm
3.1
3.1.1–20 Cf. RJ 4.5.102ff., AYL 5.3.34ff.: the Clown’s
baiting of the Musicians was a ‘comic turn’.
1 content your pains reward you for taking the trouble

372 Yet] F; But Q 373 By the mass] Q; Introth F 377] as Q; F lines gone. / done:
/ SD] F; not in Q Two] F; Some Q 379–80] as Q; one line F 380 Myself the
while] Theobald; My selfe awhile, Q; my selfe, a while, F 383 SD] F; Exeunt.
Q 3.1] Actus Tertius. Scena Prima. F; not in Q 0.1] Enter Cassio, with
Musitians and the Clowne. Q; Enter Cassio, Musitians, and Clowne. F

2 Good morrow the traditional aubade to wake bride and

groom after the wedding night. Cf. Donne’s ‘The Good-
Morrow’ (morrow = morning).
2.1 CLOWN Clown could = peasant, countryman; ignorant or
rude fellow; fool or jester (in a great house or in the
theatre). Here the theatre clown plays a clown (a comic
servant). Shakespeare gave names to most of his
clowns and fools, but not in Oth and KL.
3–4 See LN.
8 tail i.e. a penis (or animal tail?). Cf. AYL 2.7.28; Dent,
T48, ‘Thereby hangs a tale’ (= there’s a story about
that).
10 wind instrument ‘Podex – or ars musica’ (Partridge). A
joke about flatulence.
12–13 for love’s sake So Philemon, 1.9, ‘Yet for love’s sake
I rather beseech thee’; for Q’s of all loues, cf. MND
2.2.154.
13 noise could mean ‘an agreeable or melodious sound’
(OED 5): the clown specializes in ambiguous insults 18
none such perhaps a quibble: ‘None-such’ was the
name of a popular tune (R. King, as in 3–4n.)
2.1] as Q2 (They play, and enter the Clowne.); not in QF 3 have] F; ha Q in] F;
at Q 4 i’th’] F; i’the Q 5 SP] Boy Q (throughout); Mus. F (throughout) 6 pray
you,] F; pray, cald Q 12–13 for … sake] F; of all loues Q 18 have] F; ha Q

19 put … pipes could = desist, ‘shut up’ (OED pipe le), or

pack up your pipes
19–20 perhaps alluding to the practice of carrying away a
tedious Fool in a cloak-bag (cf. Leslie Hotson,
Shakespeare’s Motley, 1952, ch. 4); i.e. put your pipes,
not me, in your bag, for I’ll go away on my own
22 To ‘mistake the word’ (TGV 3.1.284) was a regular
clown routine.
23 keep up refrain from
quillets quibbles
24 gentlewoman originally, a woman of good birth; then, a
female attendant on a lady of rank
26 entreats … speech begs the favour of briefly speaking
with her (here little looks like a transferred epithet) 28
stirring He understands it as ‘sexually exciting’ (cf.
OED stirring 3, quoting Dekker, ‘Capon is a stirring
meate’; Partridge, stir).
28–9 I … her i.e. I shall have notified her
29 The Clown makes fun of Cassio’s courtliness or accent
(cf. Iago, 2.1.166ff.), and perhaps quibbles on stir–
steer.
30 In happy time well met; happy = fortunate
31–9 These lines could be prose or verse.

19 up] F; not in Q 20 into air] F; not in Q SD] Exit Mu. F; not in Q 21 hear,
mine] heare my Q; heare me, mine F 22] as Q; F lines Friend: / you. / 25
general’s wife] Q; Generall F 30 Do, … friend] Q; not in F SD] F (Exit Clo.,
after 29); not in Q 31, 33 have] F; ha Q 32–6 Why … access] Q lines parted:
/ her, / Desdemona, / accesse. /; F lines parted. / wife: / Desdemona /
accesse. /
37 mean opportunity
41 Florentine Did Shakespeare delete 1.1.19–20 (Texts,
36)? If he did, Cassio is naively ignorant that Florence,
the home of Machiavelli, was not generally thought a
centre of honesty; if not, he praises Iago as if a fellow
countryman, and also misunderstands him.
43 displeasure loss of favour
all … well Cf. 3.4.19, 4.2.173, RJ 4.2.40: a common saying.
45 stoutly vigorously (stronger than today)
47 great important, powerful
affinity kindred, family. This half-line may have been
deleted and printed in error (Texts, 37). Cf. Ruth 2.20,
‘The man is nigh unto us, and of our affinity.’
48 wholesome beneficial; health-giving: i.e. wisdom that
restores the well-being of Cyprus
he … but he could only; or, he was forced to
49 Refuse dismiss; decline to reappoint; i.e. he had (earlier
or now) no choice except to refuse you loves is fond of
51 front forelock. The proverb (Dent, T311, ‘To take time
(occasion) by the forelock’) refers to the classical
Occasio, long-haired in front, bald behind.

40 for’t] F; for it Q SD] opp. 39 QF 41.1] Enter Emilia. Q; Enter Æmilia. F 43

sure] F; soone Q 46–9] QF lines Cypres, / wisedome, / loues you, / 51] Q; not
in F

52 in into favour
54 advantage opportunity
55 Desdemon This form of the name occurs seven times,
but never in Q. The speaker is mostly Othello, which
makes it sound more intimate than ‘Desdemona’.
 Perhaps Shakespeare wrote the full name and wanted
final and initial a to be slurred: ‘Desdemona alone’.
56 bestow place
57 bosom bosom thoughts
3.2
3.2 This scene gives us a glimpse of Othello at work,
undistracted by thoughts of Desdemona.
2 do my duties pay my respects
3 works defensive fortification
4 Repair come, make your way
Well … do’t an odd way of responding to an order?
6 wait attend
3.3
3.3 Location: Cassio has ‘come in’ (3.1.55), but the location
is vague: ‘yond marble heaven’ (463) suggests that
Shakespeare now thinks it an outdoor scene. On the
‘unlocalized stage’ such inconsistencies pass unnoticed.

55 Desdemon] F; Desdemona Q 57 I … you] F; not in Q SD] Q; not in F 3.2]

Scoena Secunda. F; not in Q 0.1] F; … and other Gentlemen. Q 1 pilot] F;
Pilate Q 2 Senate] F; State Q 4 Well] QF; om. Pope 6 We’ll] F2 (Weel); We Q;
Well F 3.3] Scoena Tertia. F; not in Q

3 warrant be bound (common asseveration); monosyllabic

(warr’nt), as in Ham 1.2.242, ‘I warn’t it will’ (Q2),
MND 5.1.320.
7 Bounteous good, virtuous (Fr. bonté, goodness,
kindness)
9 true faithful, sincere
12 strangeness coldness, aloofness
13 politic sagacious, shrewd; i.e. than the distance
required by judiciousness
14 policy sagacity, diplomacy; an expedient course of
action
15 or feed on such a poor diet (i.e. as to fade away); nice =
delicate, thin
16 or engender itself to such an extent from non-essential
factors, i.e. depend so much on chance
17–18 Cf. Dent, F596, ‘Long absent soon forgotten’.
17 supplied filled
19 doubt fear

3] as Q; F lines do: / Husband, / warrant] F; know Q 4 cause] F; case Q 10 I

know’t] F; O sir Q 12 strangeness] F; strangest Q 14 That] F; The Q 16
circumstance] Q; Circumstances F
20 warrant assurance, pledge. This seems as impetuous as
her elopement with Othello.
Assure thee be certain
22 article item
23 I’ll … tame a metaphor from the training of hawks
(watch = keep awake, to make obedient). Cf. TC 3.2.43,
‘you must be watch’d ere you be made tame, must
you?’ (Ridley).
24 bed … board Marriage was a ‘bond of board and bed’
(AYL 5.4.142: cf. 3H6 1.1.248); board = table, shrift =
place of confession. Without realizing it, she puts her
marriage at risk.
26 merry happy
27 solicitor advocate
28 give … away abandon thy suit
34 do your discretion do as you think fit. Usually ‘use
your discretion’ (AYL 1.1.146; Lyly, Endymion, 1.4.5).

28 thy cause away] F; thee cause: away Q 28.1] F; Enter Othello, Iago, and
Gentlemen. Q 33 purposes] F; purpose Q 34 Ha,] Q; Hah? F 36 if –] F; if, Q

39 steal away Cf. Cor 1.1.252 SD, ‘Citizens steale away’.

guilty-like unique in Shakespeare; his coinage
42 suitor petitioner
46 grace pleasing quality; privilege (OED 1, 8)
move influence
47 present immediate
reconciliation restoration to favour (OED 1c)
take accept, agree to
49 in cunning wittingly
50 in of
39 steal] F; sneake Q 40 you] Q; your F 52 Yes, faith] Q; I sooth F 53 hath] F;
has Q grief] F; griefes Q 54 To] F; I Q 55 Desdemon] F; Desdemona Q

58 dinner a midday meal at this time

64 common reason general way of thinking
65 wars i.e. the military profession
66 their best their best men. If wars = war generally,
singular her (as in QF) is possible. But their (or ther)
could be misread as her.
not, almost hardly. ‘I have not breathed almost, since I did
see it’ (CE 5.1.181) (Ridley).
67 check rebuke
70 mamm’ring (1) hesitating, (2) stammering, muttering.
Editors prefer (1), but (2) could be appropriate for 56ff.
An unkind word, unique in Shakespeare, signalling her
critical surprise. It echoes Euphues, ‘neither stand in a
mammering whether it be best to departe or not’ (Lyly,
1.253) (Malone).
71 That … you Cf. 1.2.52n.
72 dispraisingly i.e. she has been critical of him before –
‘of course, in order to hear Cassio praise him in reply’
(Kittredge) 74 bring him in Cf. 3.1.52.
By’r lady a mild oath, changed by F, found also in
‘Protestant’ plays (e.g. Ham 3.2.133). Cf. 2.3.373n.

60 or] Q; on F 61 Tuesday, noon] Tuesday morne, Q; Tuesday noone, F on] F; or

Q 63 i’faith] Q; Infaith F 65–6] (Saue … examples / … her best) Q; (Saue …
example) / … her best, F 66 their best] Rowe; her best QF 67 T’] F; To Q 69
would] F; could Q 70 mamm’ring] F (mam’ring); muttering Q What,] What
Q; What? F 74 By’r lady] Q; Trust me F

76 I … nothing Cf. Plautus, Trinummus, 357, ‘I cannot

keep refusing you anything you wish’: ‘Non edepol tibi
 pernegare possum quicquam quod velis.’
boon favour
77 as as if
gloves worn by the well-off as a sign of their importance;
i.e. to do what is normal and natural
79–80 do … person i.e. do something that will be of special
benefit to yourself 81 touch test
82 poise weight; balance
difficult weight difficult to weigh; i.e. it shall be so finely
balanced (between the possible and impossible) that it
will be a momentous thing for you to grant it. Cf.
2.3.120n. Or, more simply, it will be ‘too heavy’.
83 fearful terrible (stronger than today)
84 Whereon almost = in return for which
87 straight immediately
88 fancies whims (another unkind word)
89 obedient Wives were expected to obey their husbands.
She means, ‘However good or bad you may be as a
husband, I am a good wife.’

82 difficult weight] F; difficulty Q 87 to thee] QF; om. Pope 88 Be] F; be it Q 89

SD] Exit Desd. and Em. Q; Exit. F

90 wretch could be a term of endearment, or the opposite.

Perhaps meant to imply both, playfully. Cf. RJ 1.3.44,
‘The pretty wretch left crying and said, “Ay”.’
perdition destruction, i.e. damnation
catch take
91 But could = ‘if … not’, i.e. ‘may I be damned if I don’t
love thee’, almost ‘may I be damned if I stop loving
thee’. Yet but could be a fairly meaningless part of an
asseveration (MV 2.6.52, ‘Beshrow me but I love her
heartily’). For when = if, see OED 8.
92 Chaos ‘The allusion is to the classical legend that Love
was the first of the gods to spring out of original chaos.
Cf. Ben Jonson, Love Freed from Ignorance, 26–7:
“without me / All again would Chaos be”’ (Sanders,
quoting a speech by Love).
97 satisfaction information that answers a person’s
demands, removal of doubt; satisfying proof (OED 6b,
first in 1601) 99 he had probably one syllable 100
went between OED first records go-between in MW
2.2.263.
102 aught i.e. anything strange

94–5 Did … love?] Q; F lines Cassio / loue? / you] Q; he F 95–6 He … ask?] as F;

one line Q 97 thought] F; thoughts Q 100 oft] F; often Q 102 Ay] F (I); not in
Q

110 monster prodigy; monstrosity; monstrous creature (cf.

168)
111 hideous ugly; repulsive; detestable
114 of my counsel i.e. in my confidence; or, he advised me
116 purse contract in wrinkles, ‘suggesting the tightly
drawn-in mouth of a purse’ (OED 4, first here) 118
conceit idea, conception 119 you … you ‘a horrible
reminiscence of Peter’s “thou knowest that I love thee”
(John 21.15–17)’ (Ridley) 119–21 For the emphasis on
knowing and thinking here, cf. MM 5.1.203–4, ‘Who
thinks he knows that he ne’er knew my body, / But
knows he thinks that he knows Isabel’s’.
121 for because

109 By … echo’st] By heauen he ecchoes Q; Alas, thou ecchos’t F 110 thy] F;

his Q 111 dost] F; didst Q 112 even] F; but Q 115 In] Q; Of F 118 conceit] F;
counsell Q 121 thou’rt] F; thou art Q 122 weigh’st] F; weighest Q giv’st
them] F; giue em Q
123 stops pauses
125 tricks stratagems; characteristic practices (OED 1, 7)
of custom customary
126 close secret
*delations See LN.
127 That … rule i.e. (self-accusations or self-betrayals)
that passion cannot control 128 be sworn Q’s presume
is attractive, creating uncertainty and confusion (Iago’s
aim in this scene).
*think, The inserted comma makes Iago more doubtful.
129 Men … seem Tilley, S214, ‘Be what thou would seem
to be.’
130 ‘Or, those that be not (what they seem), would that
they might not seem (honest) at all’, taking none = by
no means, not at all (OED adv. 3, first recorded 1651).
132 then (= in that case) hints at reservations
I think Cf. 128.
134 thinkings spoken as if in inverted commas, thy
‘thinkings’, picking up 108, 128, 132
135 ruminate lit. chew the cud; hence, ‘just as thou dost
turn them over in thy mind’

123 fright] F; affright Q 126 They’re] F; They are Q delations] Steevens;

dilations F; denotements Q 128 be sworn] F; presume Q think,] this edn;
thinke QF 129 what] F; that Q 133 this:] F (this?) 134 as to] F; to Q 135 thy]
F; the Q thoughts] F; thought Q 136 words] F; word Q

138 that what

free to not bound to (do). Dent, T244, ‘Thought is free.’
142 uncleanly filthy
apprehensions ideas
143 leets special courts, held by some lords of the manor
once or twice a year
law-days days for the meeting of a court of law; the session
of such a court
145 friend He speaks in general terms but clearly sees
himself as the friend, redefining their relationship. Cf.
5.2.150.
147ff. Two consecutive parentheses confuse Iago’s thought,
viz. 148 and 149–51 (‘As … not’), interrupting ‘I do
beseech you that your wisdom’.
148 Though could = if (OED 4), but the sentence is
deliberately serpentine vicious wicked; blameworthy;
faulty, mistaken (OED 2, 3, 6). It suits Iago to use
elastic words.
149 plague affliction
150 spy into look out for; pry into
jealousy zeal (against abuses); devotion (to serve
someone); vigilance (OED 1–3) 151 Shapes devises,
imagines
152 conceits conceives, imagines; could be a misreading
of Q’s coniects (= conjectures), the ‘harder reading’,
preferred by some editors 154 scattering scattered,
i.e. disordered observance observant care (OED 4);
observation

138 that … to –] that all slaues are free to, Q; that: All Slaues are free: F 139
vile] Q; vild F 141 a] Q; that F 142 But some] Q; Wherein F 143 session] Q;
Sessions F 146 think’st] F; thinkest Q mak’st] F; makest Q 150 oft] Q; of F
151 that your wisdom] F; I intreate you then Q 152 conceits] F; coniects Q
153 Would] F; You’d Q 154 his] F; my Q

155 were not for would not be conducive to

quiet peace of mind
159 See LN.
160 purse (= money, 161). Cf. his advice to Roderigo,
1.3.340ff.
trash could = slang for money (OED 3d), as in JC 4.3.72ff.,
‘wring / From the hands of peasants their vile trash’
*something-nothing (?)something trivial. Cf. Dent,
S620.1, ‘Something nothing’, quoting Porter, Two Angry
Women (1599), ‘let me heare that something nothing
then’ (MSR 698), T. Powell, Welch Bayte (1603, C2b),
‘newes of a something nothing’.
165 Cf. Dent, H331.2, ‘To have someone’s heart (leaping,
panting) in one’s hand’, and 1.1.63. The hearts of
traitors were ripped out and held up immediately after
their execution. Here if = even if.
168 green-eyed Cf. MV 3.2.110, ‘green-eyed jealousy’;
OED green 3, ‘of bilious hue, indicative of fear or
jealousy’, hence ‘green with envy’.
monster Cf. KL 1.1.122, ‘Come not between the dragon
and his wrath’: an emotion is externalized.
doth mock makes sport of, teases (OED 2b, 3) (perhaps as
a cat with a mouse)

156 and] F; or Q 157 Zounds … mean?] Zouns. Q; What dost thou meane? F
158 woman, … lord,] woman’s deere my Lord; Q; woman (deere my Lord) F
159 their] F; our Q 160] as Q; F lines trash: / nothing; / something-nothing]
this edn; something, nothing QF 164 By heaven] Q; not in F thoughts] F;
thought Q 167 OTHELLO Ha!] Oth. Ha? F; not in Q my lord, of] F; not in Q
168 mock] as QF; make Hanmer (Theobald) 169 meat food; i.e. suspicions.
But the image of a self-devourer is also present, as in Cor 4.2.50, ‘Anger’s
my meat; I sup upon myself.’
cuckold (refers to Othello indirectly, but still an explosive
word)
170 Who … fate who, though sure that his wife is
unfaithful
wronger = wife, or wife’s lover. Othello probably spoke of
his love for Cassio in Iago’s presence (2.3.244).
171 ‘what accursed minutes does he suffer (count)’;
minutes = dragging minutes, slow time
172 dotes is infatuated; hinting ‘is weak-minded from age’
(OED 2, 3), which points at Othello strongly intensely
174 Poor and content Cf. 1.1.40ff. (Iago is not content to
be poor), 2.1.129ff.; Dent, C629, ‘Contentment is great
riches.’
175 fineless boundless
177 Good God not the modern (devalued) exclamation but
an appeal to God’s goodness. Cf. Dent, J38.1, ‘From
jealousy the good Lord deliver us’ (not recorded before
Shakespeare).
tribe Cf. 1.1.180n.
180 make suffer (OED 64); i.e. that I would let jealousy
take over my life 181 wax and wane (in suspicion) like
the moon (Ridley), i.e. to act like a lunatic; still =
always
183 once once for all. But F could be right: ‘Is – to be
resolved.’
resolved determined (on a course of action); freed from
doubt
goat because a horned animal? Or because goats, highly
sexed, spend too much time in lustful activity?

169 The] F; That Q 172 strongly] Q; soundly F; fondly Knight 177 God] Q;
Heauen F 183 Is once] Q; Is F

185 *exsufflicate = (?)inflated, i.e. improbable. OED

records no other example, but cites exsufflation
(sixteenth century) from Lat. exsufflare = blow up.
blown Editors suggest (1) fly-blown, (2) inflated, (3)
rumoured.
surmises allegations (esp. if unfounded or unproved);
suspicions; conjectures (OED 2–4) 186 inference ‘It
 looks as though the unhappy confusion of “infer” and
“imply” was as old as the Elizabethans’ (Ridley, citing
2H4 5.5.14, R3 3.7.12, Tim 3.5.72); or, conclusion, i.e.
the conclusion you have drawn from the evidence (OED
2, first in 1612).
jealous F always has iealious, an alternative spelling.
187 feeds well could be an ‘irrelevant interpolation’,
making this a long line. So Walker, citing Cinthio on
women who ‘with beauty of body and under a
semblance of virtue, for instance in singing, playing,
dancing lightly and speaking sweetly, hide an ugly and
abominable soul’ (Bullough, 7.240). But Othello’s point
is that a woman given over to sociable and physical
pleasures need not have an ‘ugly soul’, so feeds well fits
in. Cf. 343n.
188 free unreserved
190 weak deficient
draw deduce
191 revolt ‘any “falling off” from allegiance or obedience’;
can = revulsion, as in TN 2.4.99, ‘their love may be
called appetite … That suffer surfeit, cloyment, and
revolt’ (Ridley) 193 prove prove it one way or the other
194 on the proof when I have proof
195 i.e. either love or jealousy will be ruled out. Away: a
gesture is needed. Cf. 266.
197 love and duty Cf. 1.1.58, ‘not I for love and duty’!
198 franker more open, unreserved
199 proof proof of guilt. Othello spoke of proof of guilt or
innocence.

185 exsufflicate] Malone; exufflicate QF blown] Q; blow’d F 188 well] Q; not in

F 196 this] F; it Q

200 Look to echoing 1.3.293, ‘Look to her, Moor’

Cassio a dangerous moment: he names Cassio (prepared
for in 94ff.)
201 Wear present (the look of) (OED 7)
thus A gesture is needed.
secure free from apprehension
202 free generous
203 self-bounty Shakespeare’s coinage. Many new ‘self-’
compounds appeared in the sixteenth and seventeenth
centuries (see 2.3.198; OED). Here self = your own, as
in TC 2.3.171–2, ‘pride / That quarrels at self-breath’.
For bounty (= kindness, goodness), cf. 7n.
abused abuse = take advantage of; cheat, deceive; injure,
wrong
204 our country our country’s. Implies that Iago, despite
his Spanish name, is a Venetian. Cf. 5.1.89. He means ‘I
know, but you cannot know…’.
205 In Venice. He means ‘they prefer to defy God rather
than their husbands’, a variant of a commonplace: cf.
R3 1.4.197–8, ‘Will you then / Spurn at his [God’s]
edict, and fulfill a man’s?’; Acts 5.4.
pranks Cf. 2.1.142n.
206–7 i.e. the best their conscience aspires to is not to
leave it (wickedness) undone, but to keep it unknown.
Cf. The Book of Common Prayer, ‘We have left undone
those things which we ought to have done’ (Noble,
219).
209 again echoing 1.3.293–4
211 go to there you are
212 give out give it out to be believed (that such a
‘seeming’ was the truth). Cf. 129–31.
213 seel Cf. 1.3.270n.
close as oak Cf. Dent, O1, ‘As close as oak’ (not recorded
before Shakespeare). ‘Usually explained by reference
to the close grain of oak’ (Ridley).
201 eyes] F; eie Q 205 God] Q; Heauen F 206] as Q; F lines Husbands. /
Conscience, / 207 leave’t]F; leaue Q keep’t] F (kept); keepe Q

214 to QF too may be a reading taken by F from Q (see

Texts, 94ff.), but ‘too blame’ is found elsewhere.
215 of for
217 bound indebted; tied (cf. 482n.)
218 Iago’s delight in Othello’s alleged misfortune expresses
itself in faked solicitude.
219 Not a jot a common phrase (e.g. Ham 5.1.113, 207)
221 F your could = my love of you
222 am have (OED be 16a)
223 ‘There is a suggestive undertone of our sense of
“gross” and of the Elizabethan sense of “large” =
“licentious”, as in “some large jests he will make” (Ado
2.3.198)’ (Ridley); issues = conclusions; reach = scope,
extent of application (OED 9); gross could = flagrant.
225 Should … lord completes a pentameter with 224: ‘I
will not’ is probably an interruption (cf. 1.1.101n.) 226
fall … success come to such a vile result; success =
outcome (good or bad) 227 aimed F aym’d (without at)
is probably correct (OED 3: to guess, conjecture).

214] as Q; F lines Witchcraft. / blame: / to] too QF 219 I’faith] Q; Trust me F

221] as Q; F lines Loue. / moou’d: / my] Q; your F you’re] F (y’are); you are
Q 226 vile] Q; vilde F 227] As my thoughts aime not at: Cassio’s my trusty
friend: Q; Which my Thoughts aym’d not. / Cassio’s my worthy Friend: / F

229 but but that: ‘I do not think Desdemona is anything

other than honest’ (= chaste, honourable) 230 and …
so ‘and long may you live thinking so’. Think is meant
to ring alarm bells, after 107ff., 132ff.
233–5 He follows up Othello’s recollection of 1.3.63 by
echoing Brabantio again (1.2.67–71).
233 affect like
proposed proposèd
234 of her own clime (= region, country), temperament
(the combination of qualities that determines the
nature of a person; or, skin colour), and rank
235 Cf. Tilley, L286, ‘Like will to like.’
236 smell could = suspect. Cf. KL 1.1.16, ‘Do you smell a
fault?’
will wilfulness; carnal desire. Cf. 240, and Texts, 16–18
(Shakespeare’s wish to protect Desdemona from the
charge of wilfulness).
rank rebellious; excessive; lustful; (after smell) rancid,
foul-smelling
237 disproportion lack of a sense of proportion
238–9 in position / Distinctly in (making this) proposition
speak specifically of her
240 recoiling to i.e. giving way to
241 may come to compare you with the forms of her own
country; form = body (in its outward appearance);
example; behaviour. Fall to = come to, or sink (so low
as) to.
242 happily perchance (with a hint of ‘fortunately’?)

228 you’re] F (y’are); you are Q 230] as Q; F lines so; / … so. / 232] as Q; F lines
point: / you) / 236 Foh! one] F; Fie we Q 237 disproportion] Q;
disproportions F 242–4] Q lines if more / set on / Iago. /; F lines farewell: /
know more: / obserue. / Iago. /

245 Why … marry? Cf. Thorello, the jealous husband, in

Every Man in His Humour (1601), 3.3.15, ‘what meant I
to marrie?’
246 creature could = fellow, person (without
contemptuousness) but here sounds unflattering.
Othello speaks to himself.
247 unfolds reveals
249 Cf. Dent, T324, ‘Time brings the truth to light.’
251 Cf. JC 3.2.99, ‘And sure he is an honourable man’
(Antony, like Iago, means the opposite of what he says).
253 means intermediaries; methods (OED 9, 10)
254 strain his entertainment press (insist on) his
reinstatement
257 busy officious, meddlesome
258 worthy good
259 hold her free consider her innocent; or, let her have
her freedom (to betray herself)
260 government self-government, management: ‘don’t be
uneasy about the way I’ll handle it (or, about my self-
control)’

245–6 Why … doubtless] as F; one line Q 248 SP] Qc, F; not in Qu 249 farther]
F; further Q 250 Although ’tis] F; Tho it be Q 252 hold] Q; not in F; put F2
254 his] F; her Q 261 SD] Qc, F; not in Qu 263 qualities characters,
natures
264 dealings intercourse
haggard wild, untamed (lit. a wild female hawk caught in
her adult plumage)
265 Though that even if
jesses straps, fastened round the legs of a hawk, attached
to the falconer’s wrist
heart-strings tendons or nerves supposed to brace and
sustain the heart (in early anatomy)
266 Hawks were sent off with a whistle, against the wind in
pursuit of prey, with the wind when turned loose; i.e.
Desdemona is too wild to tame. Cf. Dent, W432, ‘To go
 down the wind’ = to go to ruin. N.B. He does not intend
to kill Desdemona at this stage.
267 To … fortune to fend for herself; to prey as fortune
wills
Haply for perhaps because
268–9soft … have pleasing qualities in my social behaviour
that drawing-room gallants have (chamberers here first
in this sense). Cf. Romans 13.13, ‘Let us walk honestly
… not in rioting and drunkenness, neither in
chambering and wantonness.’
270 vale of years Alluding to ‘the valley of the shadow of
death’ (Psalms 23.4)?
271 gone ruined, undone (OED gone 1)
abused wronged
relief assistance in time of need; alleviation of a pain;
‘deliverance (esp. in Law) from some … burden, or
grievance’ (OED 6, from 1616) 272 O … marriage
either ‘it is the curse of marriage that’, or ‘O, the curse
of marriage! – that’
273 ours Upper-class English wives were, in effect, the
property of their husbands and addressed them as ‘my
lord’ (= my master): 1.3.184n.
274–7 Cf. 4.2.58ff. Kean spoke these lines ‘with a peculiar,
snarling, sardonic laugh, but yet extremely quiet in
manner’ (Rosenberg, 64).
274 toad a type of anything hateful or loathsome; pre-
Shakespeare (OED 1b)

263 qualities] Q; Quantities F learned] Q; learn’d F 264 dealings] F; dealing Q

267 Haply] F; Happily Q 270 vale] F; valt Q 275 of] F; in Q

276 corner keep a corner = reserve a small place (OED

6c), here with secondary sexual sense. Cf. Cambises
(1st edn, n.d., c. 1570), Bla-b: ‘Where-soeuer I goe, in
 eche corner I will grope. Ambidexter. What and ye run
in the corner of some prittie maide? Snuf. To grope
there good fellow I will not be afraid.’
thing Cf. 306n.
277 uses Cf. 5.2.69n.
277–81 Ridley thought this nonsense: ‘There is no question
of the great being either less or more liable to be
cuckolded than the base; every one is equal.’ But
Shakespeare may mean that great ones are in greater
danger because their duties keep them from home.
277 plague affliction
278 Prerogatived privileged
base lower orders
279 unshunnable inescapable. A coinage (cf. MM 3.2.60,
‘an unshunned consequence’; Dent, C889, ‘Cuckolds
come by destiny’).
280 forked forkèd: horned
281 do quicken are conceived
282 mocks makes a mockery of; counterfeits, makes a
false pretence of (OED 4b) 284 generous noble. We
hear no more of the dinner, but perhaps should now
hear laughter from a nearby room, voices, music?
285 attend await; give attendance to
286 to blame blameworthy, i.e. I’m wrong (OED blame 6)

276 the] F; a Q 277 of great ones] Q; to Great-ones F 281 SD] after beleeue it
283 Q; after 281 F Look … she] F; Desdemona Q 282 O … mocks] Q;
Heauen mock’d F 283 ’t] F; it Q 284 islanders] F; Ilander Q 286 do …
faintly] F; is your speech so faint Q 286–7 Why … well?] as F; one line Q

288 Cf. Thorello (as in 245n.), 1.4.191, ‘Troth my head akes

extreamely on a suddaine’: he fears horns. Othello may
have a headache, but 287 gives him an excuse for
claiming one.
289 watching i.e. not sleeping enough
291 napkin handkerchief
*SD See LN.
292 in i.e. to join the others. Or are they out of doors (cf.
3.3n)?
293 SD The F SD may mean that Othello sweeps out
without listening to Desdemona’s last line, or it may be
misplaced.
295 remembrance keepsake
296 wayward self-willed; wrong-headed; perverse. Might
be confused with weird, which could be spelt weyward
(as in Mac 1.3.33).
297 token love token
298 conjured conjùred: earnestly entreated
299 reserves preserves
300 To … to For Desdemona’s age.
work pattern; embroidery
ta’en out copied (OED 85e). From Cinthio; cf. 3.4.180,
4.1.153.
302 Cf. Dent, G189.1, ‘God he knows, not I’ (cf. R3 3.1.26).
She implies ‘I don’t want to know.’

289 Faith] Q; Why F 290 it hard] F; your head Q 291 well] F; well againe Q SD]
Rowe; not in QF 293 SD] Ex. Oth. and Desd. (opp. 294) Q; Exit. (opp. 292) F
300 have] F; ha Q 301 he will] F; hee’ll Q

303 I nothing ‘I am nothing (in his eyes; he thinks I’m

here) only to please his whims’; or, ‘I know nothing,
except to please …’.
fantasy could = habit of deluding oneself (OED 3)
305 a thing could = something (Ham 5.2.90)
306 thing Iago pretends to misunderstand thing as
pudendum: cf. TGV 3.1.351, 1H4 3.3.115ff.
common free to be used by everyone; undistinguished,
ordinary (OED 6, 11) 310 handkerchief This is F’s
form throughout; Q always reads handkercher, and this
may be what Shakespeare wrote (Texts, 70).
312 that that which
316 to th’advantage i.e. seizing the opportunity

303 but to please] F; know, but for Q 303.1] as F; opp. 302 Q 306] as Q; F lines
me? / thing – / You have] F; not in Q 308 wife] F; thing Q 310 handkerchief]
F (throughout); handkercher Q (throughout) 314 stolen] F (stolne); stole Q
315 No, faith,] as Q; No: but F 316 th’] F; the Q

317 A good wench good girl. Wench (girl, young woman)

could be ‘an endearing form of address’ (OED 1c).
318 you have elide: you’ve
319 filch pilfer (something of small value) (originally slang)
*SD Some Iagos snatch the handkerchief, others get it by
coaxing (Sprague, 197).
Why … you Dent, W280.4, ‘What is that to you?’
320 import weighty significance
321 run mad Cf. 1H4 3.1.209, ‘Nay, if you melt, then will
she run mad.’ We would say ‘go frantic’.
322 lack miss; need
acknown unique in Shakespeare; usually acknown of (OED
4d). Seems to mean ‘acknowledged’; in effect, don’t
acknowledge that you have a part in it, keep out of it.
323 leave me Cf. 85, Othello’s request to his wife to leave:
the two marriages are brought into focus.
325 Trifles … air Cf. Dent, A90, ‘As light as air’. Perhaps he
toys with the handkerchief (blows it into the air? Cf.
448).
327 As … writ alluding to the Bible as Holy Writ, i.e. holy
writing
329 conceits thoughts
330 distaste cause disgust, offend the taste (OED, first
here)
331 art skill. Iago prides himself on his ‘art’ elsewhere: cf.
‘double knavery’ (1.3.393 and 400), ‘we work by wit’
(2.3.367–8).
upon the blood to arouse passion

317 it is] Q; ’tis F 318–9] verse Q (bin/); prose F 318 ’t] F; it Q 319 SD] Rowe;
not in QF what’s] Q; what is F 321 Give’t me] F; Giue mee’t Q 322–3 Be …
me] as F; one line Q 322 acknown] F; you knowne Q 328] F; not in Q 329
natures] QF; nature Pope 331 art] Q; acte F

332 Cf. Pliny, quoted Hart: ‘Sulphur … is engendered

within the Islands of Aeolia, which lie between Italy and
Sicily … [which] do always burn by reason thereof’ (i.e.
are difficult to put out).
333 poppy opium
mandragora (the juice of the) mandrake plant, a soporific.
Cf. AC 1.5.4–5, ‘Give me to drink mandragora … That I
might sleep out this great gap of time’, and Marlowe,
Jew of Malta, 5.1.80–1.
334 drowsy inducing sleepiness
335 medicine bring by medicine (nonce use)
336 owedst didst own or possess
Ha! Ha! Ha, like O, was a signal to the actor to make the
appropriate noise: cf. OED 1, 4.2.56n.
337 how now what’s this
338 Avaunt away!
rack Cf. KL 4.7.45–6, ‘I am bound / Upon a wheel of fire’.
339 abused wronged, deceived
340 Than … little than only to know a little of what has
happened
341 Othello’s imagination has persuaded him of
Desdemona’s guilt (in Iago’s absence!).
sense feeling, consciousness
stolen secret
342 Cf. Dent, K179.1, ‘What one does not know does not
hurt.’
343 fed well Cf. feeds well, 187.
free unreserved in behaviour; (?)carefree

332 mines] F; mindes Q SD] opp. 331 Q; after 332 F 336 owedst] Q; owd’st F to
me?] F; to me, to me? Q 340 know’t] F; know Q 341 1of] Q; in F 343 fed
well] F; not in Q

345–6 Cf. Ovid, Amores, 3.14, ‘That you should not err,
since you are fair, is not my plea, but that I be not
compelled, poor wretch, to know it … let me think you
honest though you are not’; Son 138; Dent, L461, ‘He
that is not sensible of his loss has lost nothing.’
345 wanting missing
348 camp i.e. army
349 Pioneers the lowest kind of soldier; carried spades,
pickaxes, etc., to dig trenches – perhaps relevant, in
view of Othello’s inflamed imagination and all Cf. KL
3.6.62, ‘The little dogs and all’.
tasted handled, explored by touch; had carnal knowledge
of (OED 1, 3b, citing Cym 2.4.57–8, ‘make’t apparent /
That you have tasted her in bed’, as first example).
350 So so long as
350–60 The ‘farewell’ speech was a commonplace (e.g.
Ovid, Heroides, 9.165ff.). Shakespeare’s version was
much echoed by other dramatists, esp. Beaumont and
Fletcher (in Bonduca; The Loyal Subject; The
Prophetess, ‘farewell Pride and Pomp / And
 circumstance of glorious Majestie, / Farewell for ever’
(4.6.72–4, quoted Malone).
351 tranquil serene, peaceful (OED, from Lat. tranquillus,
first here) 352 plumed plumèd: decked with feathers
big mighty; violent
353 makes Cf. 1.1.148–9n.
354–5 perhaps an echo of Lyly’s Campaspe, 2.2.35;
Alexander the Great, in love, neglects ‘the warlike
sound of drumme and trumpe … the neighing of barbed
steeds’. Trump = trumpet.
356 royal magnificent (OED 8–10): Othello did not
proclaim his own royal descent (1.2.19ff.).
quality essential nature
357 Pride, pomp usually deplored, not admired (as here).
Cf. L. Wright, Summons for Sleepers (1589), A4a:
‘pomp, pride, and superfluity’; Plutarch, Lives (1579),
‘[he] brought all the pride and pompe of those Courts
into GRæCE’ (‘Agis and Cleomenes’; Homilies, 280, 282.
circumstance formality, ceremony. See Parker (as in
126n.).
glorious possessing glory; eager for glory; ostentatious,
boastful (OED 1–5)

347 this.] Q; this? F 352 troops] F; troope Q 355 th’] F; the Q

358 mortal deadly

engines machines, i.e. cannons
rude rough, rugged
359 clamours (Lat. clamor, a shout), i.e. thunder
360 occupation employment, hence life, because life has
lost all meaning for him. Hulme (124) thinks Othello
refers to his military role but ‘must refer also to his loss
of Desdemona’ (since occupy could = cohabit with).
Iago spoke of the trade of war (1.2.1).
361 ‘Is it possible that you should feel like this?’
362ff. close to Cinthio: cf. Brabantio flared up more quickly
(1.1.116). Barton Booth took Iago by the throat during
this speech; other actors did so later (371) – an action
authenticated by 5.2.353.
362 my love Does he still love her?
363 ocular proof Cf. Cynthia’s Revels (1600), 2.3.11ff.,
‘You shall now, as well be the ocular, as the eare-
witnesse’; Poetaster (1601), 4.5.75, ‘wilt thou suffer
this ocular temptation?’
364 See LN.
366 answer have to answer to, or defend yourself against
368–9 That … on ‘that the proof permits of no support to
attach a doubt to’. Hinge = pivot (OED 4, first here);
loop = looped string or cord. Cf. OED hang 9b, ‘to be
supported or suspended at the side, as on a hinge or
pivot, so as to be free to turn or swing horizontally’: i.e.
the proof must be so secure that doubts will not move
it.

358 you] F; ye Q rude] F; wide Q 359 Th’] F; The Q dread clamours] F; great
clamor Q 361 possible? my] Capell subst.; possible my QF 362 thou] Qc, F;
you Qu 363 SD] Rowe; not in QF 364 man’s] Q; mine F

371ff. Cf. KJ 4.3.117–34, ‘Beyond the infinite and boundless

reach / Of mercy, if thou didst this deed of death, / Art
thou damn’d’.
372 remorse repentance (because you cannot win
forgiveness for what you have done); compassion
373 head perhaps = summit (OED 12)
accumulate heap up. Cf. a similar image in Ham
5.1.280ff., ‘let them throw / Millions of acres on us’.
374 heaven weep Cf. MM 2.2.122: man ‘makes the angels
weep’.
amazed stronger than today: ‘paralyzed with horror’
(Kittredge)
376 forgive i.e. for daring to be ‘honest’: more subtle than
Q defend
377 sense consciousness; intelligence
378 God buy you here = (God be with you, i.e.) God help
you, I wash my hands of you
office his position of trust, either as ensign, or as Othello’s
‘friend’ and informer 378–9 O … vice He addresses
himself; vice = defect, fault.
380 could be punctuated ‘O monstrous! world, take note …’
Cf. KL 4.1.10, ‘World, world, O world!’; TC 5.10.36.
381 direct straightforward
honest honourable
382 profit profitable lesson (Sanders). Cf. Montaigne, bk 3,
ch. 1, ‘Of profit and honesty’.
from hence henceforth
383 sith since (archaic)
breeds begets
offence hurt; pain; disgrace
384 stay Either Iago is about to slip away, or Othello asks
him not to proceed in that way of thinking.
shouldst be appear to be, or, ought to be
385 should be ought to be

376 forgive] F; defend Q 378 buy you] F; buy, you Q mine] Qc, F; thine Qu 379
lov’st] F; liuest Q thine] Qc, F; mine Qu 383 sith] F; since Q

386 By the world common asseveration, as in LLL 4.3.17,

5.1.102, 105; R3 4.4.375; but more meaningful here,
after 380 (cf. also 90–2, 4.3.63–9) 387–8 elide: ‘she’s’,
‘thou’rt not’ (Texts, 119)
388 just honourable (in what you say)
389 I’ll have I must have
*Her name Ridley defends F: ‘Othello is maddened by the
befoulment of his own honour.’ But the comparison with
Diana (the moon goddess, patron of chastity) points to
a woman and her chastity, not to a man.
390 begrimed grime = soot, smut, coal dust. The actor’s
face was begrimed: he had to be careful to keep his
makeup off Desdemona’s clothes (Lois Potter in The
Arts of Performance, ed. Murray Biggs [1991], 118). A
curious way to speak of his own face?
391–3 Is he thinking of suicide (Sanders)? In Faerie
Queene, 1.9.50, Despair offers ‘swords, ropes, poison,
fire, / And all that might him to perdition [i.e. suicide]
draw’. But Othello may have in mind murder, not
suicide: cf. 445, 4.1.175.
393 satisfied set free from doubt, satisfied one way or the
other. Iago plays with the word to suggest a voyeur’s
satisfaction. Cf. WT 1.2.232ff.
394 eaten up devastated. Cf. gnaw my inwards (2.1.295).
395 put suggested
398 supervisor onlooker, spectator (OED 2, first here;
previously ‘one who directs the work of others’)
grossly indelicately, brutally 399 topped Cf. 1.1.88n.,
5.2.134.

386–93 By … satisfied!] F; not in Q 389 Her] Q2; My F 394 sir] Q; not in F 396
Would? … and] as F; Would, nay Q 398 supervisor] Q; super-vision F 399
topped] topt Q; top’d F; tupp’d Theobald 400 tedious tiresome;
disagreeable
401 prospect view; spectacle
Damn them then He appears to pick up 399 (‘Yes, their
death and damnation is right’), but changes
construction (‘May they be damned if ever …’).
402 bolster must mean ‘have sexual intercourse’. OED
guesses ‘to lie on the same bolster’! Perhaps a
 misreading of balter = tumble about, dance clumsily; to
form tangled knots, stick together (by coagulation)
(OED 1, 5).
403 More other
404 satisfaction (?)satisfying proof (OED 6b, first in 1601).
He edges towards the thought that to behold her
‘topped’ can give pleasure.
406–7 See LN.
407 gross stupid
409 imputation attribution (Lat. imputare, to bring into
the reckoning)
circumstances circumstantial evidence
410 door ‘I think the slightest of pauses after door; Othello
is led in imagination to stand outside the closed
bedroom door’ (Ridley).
411 may I prefer Q may, repeating 397 may.
412 living valid. Perhaps on the analogy of ‘the living God’
(Hebrews 10.31).
413 office task, duty. Iago manoeuvres to a position of
pretended reluctance to speak: cf. 2.3.216, 3.3.196,
4.1.277, etc.
414 cause matter
415 Pricked urged or spurred on, like a horse or beast:
pretending that he is helpless

401 them] F; em Q (twice) 402 do] F; did Q 411 may have’t] may ha’t Q; might
haue’t F 412 she’s] F; that shee’s Q 414 in] F; into Q

416 I lay i.e. shared a bed with (bed-sharing was not

uncommon: cf. the great bed of Ware, TN 3.2.48).
Erotic dreams are already found in classical literature
(e.g. Ovid, Heroides, 15, 123ff.), but Cassio’s dream is
Iago’s fabrication.
417 raging aching furiously. Before modern dentistry,
toothache was more of a problem: cf. the ‘hellish
torment of the teeth’ (Epigram 36 in Epigrammes and
Elegies [c. 1599] of Sir John Davies and Marlowe).
419 loose dissolute
sleeps The plural was idiomatic when referring to more
than one person (OED 2b).
420 affairs could be three syllables (Abbott, 477)
421–8 (Arden of Faversham) and Doctor Dodypoll (1600),
B3a, where lovers cry out and betray themselves in
their sleep (both plays prior to Oth).
423ff. then Notice the force of repeated then: it seems to
authenticate several actions by placing them in
sequence.
gripe clutch, grasp
would he governs gripe, wring, Cry, kiss, lay, sigh, kiss, cry
(which all become repeated actions) 424 hard
passionately (cf. WT 2.1.5) 426 *lay I guess that Q
misread laye as layd, then misread or changed the
following verbs, and that F laid followed Q; lay his
probably slurred as lay’s.
427 Cursed cursèd
430 foregone conclusion a coinage (not in modern
sense); conclusion = experiment, trial (Malone);
foregone = previous

417–20] as F; Q lines sleep. / soule, / affaires, / Cassio: / 422 wary] F; merry Q

424 Cry ‘O] Cry, oh F; Cry out, Q and] Q; not in F 426–8 That … Moor!’] as
F; Q lines leg / then / Moore. / 426 lay] Rowe; then layed Q; laid F o’er] F;
Ouer Q 427 sigh … kiss … cry] F; sigh’d … kissed … Cried Q

431 This line could be Othello’s, as in F. Alexander and

Sisson prefer Q. Othello ‘does not entangle himself; he
is entangled [by Iago]’ (Sisson).
shrewd strongly indicative; vexatious; sharp
doubt suspicion; fear
432 thicken i.e. confirm
433 demonstrate establish the truth (OED 4, first
intransitive use); accent on second syllable thinly
weakly. Cf. 1.3.109, thin evidence.
434 Is the urge to tear her a sign of his ‘primitiveness’? Not
necessarily: cf. RJ 5.3.35, ‘I will tear thee joint by joint’,
Cym 2.4.147, ‘tear her limb-meal’, and also Psalms
50.22.
435 1yet If we retain F yet, the third yet (436) in two lines
receives a special emphasis: ‘She may be honest – yet’
(i.e. even if not for long).
2yet up to now

wise Cf. 4.1.233.

done Perhaps a quibble on do = copulate: cf. Tit 4.2.76, ‘I
have done thy mother’; MM 1.2.87–8, ‘what has he
done? Pompey. A woman.’
436 yet still; nevertheless; after all
Tell … this The same words occur, in a scribe’s hand, in Sir
Thomas More, Addition II, 237 (usually assigned to
Shakespeare).
438 Spotted decorated
strawberries might suggest a hidden evil, or the purity of
the Virgin (L. J. Ross, in Studies in the Renaissance, 7
[1960], 225–40). Or drops of blood?
439 first gift Cf. 295.
440 I … that He validates his lies by refusing to say more
than he knows.
441 today As Iago has only just received it (319), he takes
a risk in saying this. Othello could have seen it if it was
Desdemona who dropped it: cf. 291 SD n.

431 SP] Q; not in F 432 And] Q; Iago. And F 435 1yet] F; but Q 442 it] F; ’t Q
443 *2that could be written ‘yt’ and misread as yt (it),
hence Malone’s emendation 444 proofs What proofs?
445 Cf. 4.1.175. The slave = Cassio.
447–8 Some action is required (‘Look here’, ‘thus’), but
what? He blows something upwards, then looks down
and addresses ‘vengeance’ in hell.
448 fond foolish; affectionate
450 black vengeance Cf. A Larum for London (1602; SR:
27 May 1600), A4b, ‘send blacke vengeance to that
hated towne’.
hollow hell See LN.
451 hearted fixed in the heart (OED 5, first here; but cf.
1.3.367)
452 fraught burden
453 aspics’ (aspic = asp, a small venomous serpent, found
in Egypt and Libya): cf. 3.4.58
content calm; satisfied in mind (a harmless word, yet
calculated to infuriate him). Cf. satisfied, 396–9.
454 SD SDs placed in the margin (as in Q) are not always
placed precisely in manuscripts: the kneel could be
intended for 457 or 463. For revengers who kneel, cf.
Tit 4.1.87ff.; Arden of Faversham (Revels), 9.37, ‘Then
he kneels down and holds up his hands to heaven’;
Marlowe, Edward II, 3.1.127, Jew of Malta, 1.2.165.
456–9 Cf. Pliny. The Pontic Sea, Propontic and Hellespont =
Black Sea, Sea of Marmora and the Dardanelles.

443 2that] Malone; it QF 447 true] F; time Q 448–9] one line QF 450 the … hell]
F; thy … Cell Q 453 Yet] F; Pray Q 454] F; O blood, Iago, blood. Q SD] Q (he
kneeles. opp. 453); not in F 455 perhaps] Q; not in F 456–63 Iago …
heaven] F; not in Q
457 compulsive caused by compulsion, compelled; or,
compelling
458 See LN.
461 humble The lover is usually humble; appropriate here
because Lat. humilis (from humus, earth) could = low-
lying. Olivier paused after humble and then ‘forced
himself to say the word “love”’ (J. R. Brown, quoted
Hankey, 253).
462 capable able to receive, contain; capacious (OED 1, 2)
wide vast, spacious
463 marble indifferent to the sufferings of others. Malone
compared Antonio and Mellida (printed 1602, acted
1599 or 1600), ‘pleased the marble heavens’ (Revels,
2.1.230). Cf. Tim 4.3.191, ‘the marbled mansion all
above’, Cym 5.4.87, ‘Peep through thy marble mansion’
(both = heaven).
464 due proper; necessary
465 engage pledge
466 Witness Such formal invocations were more often
addressed to God or heaven: cf. TGV 2.6.25, 2H6
4.8.62.
ever-burning Cf. 2.1.15, ever-fired. Implies ‘ever-watchful’
and ‘never-ending’.
467 elements heavenly bodies (OED 10); or, powers of
nature (Ridley)
clip clasp; encompass
469 execution performance; implying the ‘execution’ of
Cassio
wit mind
470 Othello’s Speaking of ‘Othello’ to his face, Iago takes
a liberty acknowledged by 472, thy love. Cf. 4.1.48n.
service At 1.1.41ff. he saw himself as Othello’s servant;
now, despite his assurances, Othello is almost the
ventriloquist’s dummy.
471 remorse glossed as ‘a solemn obligation’ by OED (4c,
first here, citing no other instance). But the usual sense
(= pity, compassion) is possible: ‘to obey shall be an act
of pity (for “wronged Othello”) whatever bloody task I
have to undertake’.

458 1keeps] F; feels Q2; Never retiring ebbs, but keeps due on Sisson 465 SD]
Q ( Iago kneeles.) opp. 467; not in F 469 execution] F; excellency Q hands]
F; hand Q 471 in me] F; not in Q

472 ever soever

greet welcome; salute
473 vain empty
bounteous ‘normally used of the giver rather than the
receiver’ (Ridley). Cf. 203n. Implies ‘whole-hearted’, or
perhaps a bounteous reward?
474 to’t to the test
476 My … dead Cf. 2.3.161, he dies!
477 But … live He means the opposite, noticing that
Othello seems preoccupied with Cassio.
478 lewd (a richer word than now) base, worthless;
wicked; lascivious
minx wanton (woman), trull: cf. 4.1.152
479 apart aside, away from here
480 some … death He has not decided on the means.
481 Now … lieutenant The first sign that he knows of
Iago’s wish for promotion.
482 for ever Cf. 1.3.365, 3.3.217: a special emphasis on for
ever. Cf. LN, 1.1.8. Othello welcomes Iago as ‘my
lieutenant’; Iago acknowledges this, ‘I am your own –
for ever’ (also implying the opposite: ‘you belong to me
through all eternity’. So Faustus belongs to his servant–
master Mephistopheles).
3.4
3.4.1–22This clown episode was once regularly omitted in
performance (Sprague, 202). The Clown, like the Porter
in Macbeth (2.3), arrests the play as it gathers tragic
momentum, and is equally self-absorbed.
1 sirrah term of address used for servants or social
inferiors lieutenant Othello dismissed him, but she
gives him his title.
2ff. lies Cf. the quibbles on hear (3.1.22), and on lives in
TN 3.1.1ff. The clowns in TN and Oth were probably
played by the same actor, Robert Armin.

472 business] F; worke so Q 477] as Q; F lines Request. / liue. / at your

request.] F; as you request, Q 478] one line Q; F lines Minx: / her. / 3damn
her] F; not in Q 481] as Q; F lines Diuell. / Lieutenant. / 3.4] Scoena Quarta.
F; not in Q 1 lieutenant] F; the Leiutenant Q

6 stabbing i.e. to run the risk of being stabbed. Cf.

Raleigh, The Lie: ‘Because, to give the lie, / Deserves
no less than stabbing’.
9 I lie Lie could = dwell, as in MW 2.1.179–80, ‘Does he lie
at the Garter?’ The Clown quibbles ‘To tell you where
he lies is to tell you where I lie (because I don’t know)’.
12 devise invent; guess (OED 5, 10) 13 lie … throat to lie
foully or infamously (OED throat 3c). In the finely
graded art of giving the lie (for which see AYL
5.4.68ff.), to say that someone lied in his throat was a
stronger reproof than simply to say he lied: cf. R3
1.2.93, TN 3.4.156, Dent, T268.
14 edified informed, instructed, often in religious sense.
Cf. TN 5.1.290, ‘Look then to be well edified when the
fool delivers the madman.’
16 catechize Cf. TN 1.5.62ff., ‘Clown. I must catechize you
for it, madonna’: perhaps joking at a ‘clown routine’ (cf.
 2n., 14n.).
17 questions … answer (as in the Catechism) by them
‘i.e. and by them, when answered, form my own answer
to you’ (Malone) 19 moved urged
21 compass due limits: so RJ 4.1.47, ‘It strains me past the
compass of my wits.’

5 SP] F; not in Q He’s] F; He is Q me] F; one Q 6 ’tis] F; is Q 8–10] F; not in Q

12 here … there] F; there Q 13 mine own] F; my Q 17 by] QF; bid Theobald
19 on] F; in Q 21 man’s wit] F; a man Q 22 I will] F; I’le Q it] F; of it Q

23 should I lose could I have lost

25 my purse Cf. 3.3.160, ‘Who steals my purse steals
trash’.
26 crusadoes Portuguese coins, bearing the figure of the
cross. Mentioned nowhere else by Shakespeare – why
here? Perhaps to remind us that Christian Venice was
threatened by Muslim states. A crusado was also a
crusader.
but except that
27 baseness inferior quality
29 Is … jealous probably meant as a warning.
31 humours the four chief fluids of the body, which were
thought to determine a person’s mental and physical
qualities; moods, whims 34 O … dissemble The stock
formula was ‘I must dissemble!’ (as in 2H6 5.1.13, Per
2.5.23); here = O how hard it is to dissemble!

23 that] Q; the F 25 have lost] F; loose Q 31.1] F; opp. 31 Q 32–3] as Steevens

1793; Q lines now, / Lord? /; F lines be / Lord? / 32 till] F; Tis Qu; Let Qc 33
is’t] F; is it Q 34 SD] Hanmer; not in QF
36 moist Cf. Tilley, H86, ‘A moist hand argues an amorous
nature’; AC 1.2.52–3, ‘if an oily hand be not a fruitful
prognostication’.
38 argues gives grounds for inferring
fruitfulness fertility in offspring
liberal bountiful; unrestrained, licentious. Here ambiguous
near-synonyms (fruitful, liberal) can be taken
favourably or unfavourably (Elliott, 30): so frank, 44.
39 Hot could = passionate; lustful, sexually excited
40 sequester sequestration, isolation; probably séquester,
lib’rty 41 castigation corrective discipline
exercise devout exercises of devotion, religious discipline
42 sweating i.e. hot and moist; toiling (for Satan)
44 frank free (from restraint); generous, lavish
45 (in the troth-plighting or marriage ceremony)
46 gave perhaps with a quibble on give = display as
armorial bearing (OED 24) 47 See LN.
heraldry heraldic practice
48 I … this Cf. 3.3.440, ‘I know not that’.
49 chuck term of endearment (perhaps = chick). So
Macbeth to Lady Macbeth (3.2.45), Antony to Cleopatra
(4.4.2).

36] as Q; F lines your hand. / Lady. / 37 yet hath] yet has Q; hath F 39 Hot, hot]
F; Not hot Q 40 prayer] F; praying Q 46 hearts … hands] QF; hands …
hearts Hanmer 48] as Q; F lines this: / promise. / Come, now] F; come,
come Q

51 salt vexatious
sullen unyielding; F sorry would = painful, grievous
rheum offends running cold that troubles
57–8 Cf. 5.2.215n.
58 Egyptian probably a true Egyptian, not a Gipsy
59 charmer one who uses spells and enchantments
59–60 and … people N.B. the importance of reading ‘the
thoughts of people’ in Othello!
61 amiable lovable
62–5 This sounds like superstition but (if not fabricated by
Othello) the prediction later comes true, in so far as
Othello and Desdemona are concerned.
64 loathed perhaps loathèd
spirits perhaps an error for spirit
65 fancies amorous inclinations, loves

51 sullen] Q; sorry F 56 Not?] F; Not. Q 57 faith] Q; indeed F 62] line repeated

Q from foot of H4v to top of Il 64 loathed] F; lothely Q 66 wive] Q; Wiu’d F

67 her i.e. my wife

take heed on’t pay attention; or, look after it
68 Cf. Dent, E249.1, ‘To love as one’s own eye’.
69 perdition loss; ruin; echoing 3.3.90
71 web woven fabric
72–3 See LN.
74 prophetic fury Perhaps Ariosto’s ‘furor profetico’
(Orlando Furioso, c. 46, st. 80); if so, Shakespeare
knew Ariosto in the original, as the English translation
had no ‘prophetic fury’. But he may have found the
phrase in the writings of Joshua Sylvester (Muir, 183,
305n.).
fury inspired frenzy
sewed The fabric was woven but the embroidered work
(3.3.300n.) was sewn.
75 worms T. Moffett’s The Silkewormes was published in
1599. A matter of topical interest?
hallowed consecrated
breed produce
76 mummy medicinal liquid, supposedly made from
embalmed bodies 77 Conserved of made or preserved
from
maidens’ virgins’
78 veritable unique in Shakespeare
81 startingly (?)disconnectedly (Ridley); or, jumpily (OED
start 5); startlingly rash hastily, urgently

67 so,] Q; so; F 68 eye!] eye, Q; eye: F 69 lose’t] F; loose Q 73 course] F; make

Q 76 which] F; with Q 77 Conserved] F; Conserues Q I’faith] Q; Indeed? F
79 God] Q; Heauen F seen’t] F; seene it Q 80 Ha!] Ha, Q; Ha? F 81 rash] F;
rashly Q

82 out … way lost, missing. Cf. 1.3.359–60.

83 Heaven bless us expresses surprise, but could be
ironical = what’s all the fuss about (OED bless 9) 84
Say you? ‘do you say so!’ or ‘what do you say?’ Cf. Ham
4.5.28, MM 5.1.274, Cym 4.2.379.
85 This sounds like a lie, because we know that she has lost
it (cf. 23); but she may believe that, though missing, it
will turn up again; an if = if.
88 sir This word creates distance between them.
90 received readmitted to his post as lieutenant; received
as guest 91–9 misgives has misgivings. Cf. RJ 1.4.106,
‘my mind misgives / Some consequence yet hanging in
the stars’.
93 sufficient capable
94 F’s omission could be caused by eye-skip. Equally, the Q
compositor might have ‘cast off badly and invented
these words to fill a gap: talk me is unusual (Texts, 47).

82 is’t] F; is it Q o’the] Q; o’th’ F 83 Heaven bless] Q; Blesse F 86 How?] F; Ha.

Q 87 see’t] F; see it Q 88 sir] Q; not in F 90 Pray you] F; I pray Q 91] as Q;
 F lines Handkerchiefe, / mis-giues. / the] F; that Q 92–3] one line QF 94] Q;
not in F

96 i.e. has relied on your affection for his advancement in

the world
98 to blame at fault, in the wrong (to treat me like this) 99
Zounds F Away looks like a substitution for Q’s
profanity.
100 Is … jealous Cf. 29.
102 wonder marvellous quality (because the Egyptian’s
prediction is coming true?) 103 unhappy unfortunate;
miserable
104 i.e. a year or two does not fully reveal to us (women)
what (a monster) a man is
105 but nothing but
stomachs i.e. appetites
106 hungerly greedily. So TS 3.2.175, Tim 1.1.253. Variant
of hungrily, which is not found in Shakespeare.
107 belch vomit

98 I’faith] Q; Insooth F 99 Zounds] Q (Zouns); Away. F 103 the] Qc, F; this Qu

of it] F; not in Q 107 SD] as F; after 103 Q 108 do’t] F; doe it Q

109 happiness lucky chance (happy = lucky). Cf. Lyly,

Sapho, 5.3.2, ‘And loe how happilye shee sitteth in her
caue.’
importune sue to; probably impòrtune
112 by … means by your good (or efficacious) help; or, ‘by
means of you, virtuous madam’ (Kittredge) 113 Exist
be myself (as Lieutenant Cassio) member of one who
participates in
114 office duty (Lat. officium)
115 I … be I don’t want to be
116 mortal fatal
117 that neither my (military) service in the past nor my
regrets now (for misbehaving)
119 ransom elliptical: set me free (from his displeasure,
and bring me back) into his love 120 merely to know
that must be my gain (because I’ll know the worst)
121 so I shall invest myself with enforced contentment
(OED clothe 7b, citing Job 39.19)
122–3 and commit myself to some other course (leading) to
fortune’s charitable relief. Cf. Mac 2.1.16, ‘shut up / In
measureless content’; KL 1.1.277–8, ‘receiv’d you / At
fortune’s alms’.
123 thrice-gentle unique in Shakespeare
124 advocation (unique in Shakespeare) advocacy
125 My … lord Cf. 1.1.64, ‘I am not what I am.’
126 favour appearance
humour mood
127 Cf. ‘so help me God’.

114 office] F; duty Q 117 nor my] F; neither Q 122 shut] F; shoote Q

128 all my best to the best of my ability

129 blank once explained as ‘the white spot in the centre
of a target’ (so OED). But J. R. Hale shows that blank
here = ‘point-blank range’ (‘The true Shakespearian
blank’, SQ, 19 [1968], 33–40).
130 free frank, unreserved
134 unquietness disquiet, perturbation
135 Can … angry? Iago knows that he can be angry
(3.3.434ff.). Elliptical: ‘I have seen his ranks blown into
the air … and meanwhile have seen him cool and
unruffled. And can he now be angry?’ (Malone).
138 brother In this scene we hear of Othello’s father,
mother, brother, of the Egyptian, the sibyl – i.e. his
background.
139 moment importance
140 There’s … indeed some importance attaches to it
(OED matter 11c) 141 Something … state surely some
affair of state 142 unhatched practice plot that is still
hatching
143 demonstrable known, ‘capable of being proved’
(unique in Shakespeare) 144 puddled … spirit
muddied or confused his (usually) clear mind 145–6
wrangle … object dispute angrily about (or with) less
important things though important ones are their real
concern. She appears to class herself with the less
important things, taking for granted that Othello’s
business comes first.

138 can … be] Q; is he F 141 SD] F (opp. 140); not in Q

147 indues (?)brings to a certain state (OED 4b, first here,

no other instance cited). At this time indue and endue
were interchangeable, and included ‘all the senses of
endow’ (OED).
148 members limbs or parts of the body
to i.e. with
149 think keep in mind
men … gods Cf. Dent, M593, ‘We are but men, not gods.’
150 observancy respectful attention; observance of forms
(unique in Shakespeare) 151 As … bridal as befits the
wedding Beshrew me evil befall me (mild oath)
152 unhandsome unskilful (OED 3, first here, no other
instance cited); could = unseemly, discourteous (OED
4, from 1645; handsome = seemly, recorded 1597); or,
 unsoldierly (handsome = soldierly, first in 1665)
warrior Cf. 2.1.180, ‘O my fair warrior!’
153 Arraigning accusing, calling to account
unkindness (a richer word than now) unnatural conduct;
lack of natural affection; unkind action with my soul
i.e. from my heart and soul
154 suborned corrupted
witness i.e. herself
156 conception mere fancy
157 jealous F Iealious could be two syllables (as in 159) or
three toy fantastic notion; unreasoning dislike; trifle
(OED 4, 5) 158 Alas the day Cf. 4.2.43.
159–62 an indirect comment on Iago’s ‘motivelesss
malignity’, not really true of Othello?

146–9] as F; Q lines obiect, / ake, / members, / thinke, / gods, / 146 their] F; the
Q 148 that] Q; a F 150 observancy] F; obseruances Q 155–7] as F; Q lines
thinke, / toy / you.

161 monster Cf. 3.3.168n.; Cor 5.3.36, ‘As if a man were

author of himself’. For a similar monster, cf. Faerie
Queene, 4.10.41, ‘She syre and mother is her selfe
alone, / Begets and eke conceives, ne needeth other
none.’
165 here about Othello and Desdemona talked in a private
place (a garden?): Cassio now walks to a more public
place, where Bianca finds him.
166 fit i.e. in a suitable mood
168.1 SD BIANCA Elizabethan prostitutes apparently wore
red petticoats: cf. 1H4 1.2.10, ‘a fair hot wench in a
flame-coloured taffeta’ (Ard2, n.).
169 Save God save, i.e. protect, as in ‘God save the King’
make you are you doing
173–5 Bianca counts correctly (168 hours): has she been
brooding about her wrongs?
175 dial clock

161 they’re … It is] F; they are … tis Q 163 that] Q; the F 165 here about] QF;
hereabout F3 168 SD] as Q (opp. 166); Exit F (opp. 167) 168.2] F; opp.
Cassio 169 Q 169 Save] Q; ’Saue F 170 is’t] F; is it Q 171 I’faith] Q; Indeed
F

176 O weary reckoning Cf. Ovid, Heroides, 2.7, ‘Should

you count the days, which we count well who love’.
177 leaden oppressive (cf. R3 5.3.105, ‘leaden slumber’)
pressed oppressed; harassed
178 continuate uninterrupted; long-continued. Cf. Tim
1.1.11, ‘an untirable and continuate goodness’.
179 Strike … score i.e. pay my account, so that it can be
struck out (cancelled); score = reckoning (quibbling on
174, 176).
180 Take … out the very words of Emilia (3.3.300)!
181 friend mistress
183 Well, well Cf. Dent, W269, ‘Well, well is a word of
malice.’
Go to get away with you!
woman Cf. 5.2.146n.
184 i.e. and not in my teeth. Cf. Dent, T429, ‘To cast (hit) in
the teeth’.
186 remembrance keepsake
188 I know not And yet Desdemona kept it ‘evermore
about her / To kiss and talk to’ (3.3.299–300)!
neither used to strengthen a preceding negative (OED 3)
191 leave me Cf. 3.3.323n.

176 O] F (Oh); No Q reckoning] Q; reck’ning F 177 leaden] F; laden Q 178

continuate] F; conuenient Q 179 SD] Rowe; not in QF 182 felt absence now]
 as Q; felt-Absence: now F 183 Well, well.] F; not in Q Go to, woman] QF;
Woman, go to! Capell 184 vile] Q; vilde F 187 by … faith] Q; in good troth F
whose] Q2; who’s QF 188] as Q; F lines neither: / Chamber, / neither] F;
sweete Q 190 I’d] Q; I would F

193 attend … on wait for

194 addition usually = title, or additional title, as at
4.1.105, but here ‘seems to be “credit”’ (Ridley). Or
perhaps ‘no (good) addition to have him see me with a
woman (added)’, quibbling on two kinds of addition.
195 womaned (encumbered) with a woman (unique in
Shakespeare) 197 Bianca interrupts?
199 soon at night Cf. Dent, S639.1, ‘Soon at night (i.e.,
tonight)’.
202 circumstanced unique in Shakespeare; ‘subject to or
governed by circumstance’ or ‘surrounded with
conditions’ (OED). Or, adapting the noun (OED
circumstance III, ‘That which is non-essential … or
subordinate’), ‘I must be treated as insignificant.’
4.1
4.1.0.1Q may be right in making Iago lead, Othello follow.
1 As at 1.1.1, the opening words imply that the speakers
have talked for a while. Othello now echoes Iago,
reversing their roles (cf. 3.3.103ff.); Iago continues to
work on Othello’s visual imagination.

195–6] F; not in Q 202 SD] Q; Exeunt omnes. F 4.1] Actus. 4. Q; Actus Quartus.
Scena Prima. F 0.1] F; Enter Iago and Othello. Q

2 unauthorized i.e. not authorized by the conventions of

polite society, which permitted some kissing (2.1.97ff.)
3–4 Early romances sometimes manoeuvred lovers into
bed, ‘not meaning any harm’ (Chaucer’s Troilus, bk 3,
st. 157; Sidney’s Arcadia, 1593 edn, fo. 190b), but not
usually naked. See also A. S. Cairncross, ‘Shakespeare
and Ariosto’, RQ, 29 (1976), 178–82.
6 against in front of, in full view of (OED 1; cf. 2.3.365). Or,
towards (if they really mean no harm, they try to
dissimulate with the devil); ‘to cheat the devil’
(Johnson).
8 tempts puts to the test; incites to evil. Cf. Matthew 4.1,
7: Jesus went into the wilderness ‘to be tempted of the
devil’, and said to him ‘Thou shalt not tempt the Lord
thy God’ (Henley, in Malone).
9 So as long as
do nothing Cf. 2.1.142, and R3 1.1.99–100, ‘He that doth
naught with her (excepting one) / Were best to do it
secretly alone.’
venial slip A venial sin is a pardonable sin, admitting of
remission; a venial slip would be less serious (slip =
fault).
16 essence something that is, an entity; that by which
anything subsists; foundation of being (OED 2, 5)
3, 5 in bed] F; abed Q 9 So] Q; If F

17 ‘One of Iago’s cryptic remarks, meaning … that many

people are erroneously credited with the possession of
this invisible essence’ (Ridley).
21–2As … all Cf. Dent, R33, ‘The croaking raven bodes
misfortune.’
21 infectious presumably infected with the plague
22 Boding predicting (ominously)
23 That’s … now Cf. Dent, G324.1, ‘That’s not so good
(now).’ A characteristic understatement. A nine-syllable
line: perhaps That’s should be That is (see Texts, ch.
12), a more ruminative line.
24 I had = I’d (twice)
25 abroad at large
27 voluntary dotage self-induced infatuation
28 Convinced (convincèd) overcome
supplied satisfied a need or want (OED 5). ‘Supplied
relates to the words voluntary dotage, as convinced
does to their own importunate suit. “Having by their
importunacy conquered the resistance of a mistress, or,
in compliance with her own request … gratified her
desires”’ (Malone).
29 blab chatter; tell (what should be concealed)
32 *He did – I repunctuate, and assume that Iago pauses
tantalizingly (Texts, 132). Cf. 2.1.158n.

21 infectious] F; infected Q 27 Or] F; Or by the Q 28 Convinced] Qc, F;

Coniured Qu 32 Faith] Q; Why F what. He did –] this edn; what he did. QF

34 what you will Cf. Dent, W280.5, ‘What you will’. A

poisonous phrase: it implies ‘anything you like to think
 (or do with her)’.
35–43 Othello’s fit in some ways resembles the ‘pill’
episode in Poetaster, 5.3.465ff. (performed 1601), and
the raging of the hero in Greene’s Orlando Furioso
(printed 1594). With his loss of control, cf. also Cassio’s
drunkenness (2.3.60ff.).
35–6 He worries at the meaning of lying with and on her
(cf. 34). Lie on could = tell lies about (OED 2),
therefore ‘We say lie on her when they (i.e. people) tell
lies about (belie) her.’ But he cannot reason away lie
with her (= copulate with her).
37 fulsome nauseating; obscene
38–9First … confess Cf. Dent, C587, ‘Confess and be
hanged’ (a proverbial phrase meaning, roughly, ‘You lie’
[OED confess 10]), L590, ‘First hang and draw, then
hear the cause.’ Cf. also 2.3.105ff. (Cassio on the
correct sequence of things): tragedy teetering on the
edge of comedy.
39–42 He tries to rationalize his trembling before he falls.
‘Nature would not clothe (or endue) herself in such an
all-enfolding passion without some special information
(i.e. instinctive knowledge of the truth of what Iago has
said, expressed in my trembling).’ (OED invest 3;
shadow 6b; instruction 3.)
41 words mere words
42 Noses … lips surrogate genital images. The thought is
filled out later (‘I see that nose of yours …’); or, as
Steevens proposed, Othello imagines ‘the familiarities
which he supposes to have passed between Cassio and
his wife’ (as in WT 1.2.285–6).
43 SD trance J. P. Emery has shown that Othello suffers
from several specific epileptic symptoms (in
Psychoanalysis and the Psychoanalytic Review, 46
(1959), 30–2).
33 What? what?] F; But what? Q 36 zounds] Q; not in F 37 Handkerchief …
handkerchief!] as F; handkerchers, Confession, hankerchers. Q 38–43 To …
devil!] as F; not in Q 43 SD] F subst.; not in Qu; He fals downe. Qc (after
37) 45 medicine i.e. poison. Cf. 2.1.292ff.
work F workes is possible.
47 reproach disgrace; censure. ‘Almost always in
Shakespeare stronger than our sense, e.g. “black
scandal or foul-faced reproach” (R3 3.7.231)’ (Ridley).
What … lord He calls when he hears someone
approaching.
48 Othello He addresses Othello by name, perhaps
because Othello is still unconscious.
50 epilepsy also known as ‘the falling sickness’ (JC
1.2.254). Here it is petit mal, a milder form of the
illness (cf. 43n.), but still a most difficult, exhausting
episode for the actor. In Look About You (1600, acted
by the Admiral’s Men) a pursuivant has a similar fit
(F1b): this could have given Shakespeare the idea to
stage a seizure.
53 lethargy morbid drowsiness (here, coma)
his its
54 by and by immediately; or, soon afterwards
55 savage enraged
58 on great occasion about an important matter

44–8] ˜as F; prose Q 45 work] Q; workes F 48 SD] as F; opp. Cassio 48 Q 52

No, forbear] Q; not in F 58 SD] Q2 (after mocke me? 60); not in QF

59 hurt your head i.e. in falling. Othello thinks by

sprouting horns.
60 Dost … me? so Lyly, Mother Bombie, 2.1.24, ‘Doest
thou mocke me, Dromio?’
no For final -t variants (no:not), see Texts, 85.
61 Would I wish
fortune bad fortune (but Iago, being Iago, also hints
gleefully at ‘good fortune’; cf. ‘satisfaction’, 3.3.404n.)
62 Cf. Dent, C876.2, ‘A cuckold is a beast (monster)’;
beast = horned beast.
64 civil civilized, courteous; city-dwelling (from Lat. civis, a
citizen). Monsters were not usually civil: for the same
pleasantry, cf. Tem 2.2.89, ‘a most delicate monster’.
65 be a man Cf. 1.3.336: Iago has gained an ascendancy
very like his hold on Roderigo. The phrase helps to
unman Othello.
66 bearded fellow Cassio has a beard (3.3.442). This could
mean that Othello is bearded as well.
yoked yoked in marriage; suggesting, yoked like an ox (a
horned beast)
67 draw pull (like an ox)
68 unproper ‘not (solely) his own; proper often means
little more than own’ (Ridley). Also = improper, not in
accordance with decorum. Unique in Shakespeare.
69 peculiar restricted to themselves. Cf. 3.3.79n.
your … better i.e. because you know the truth
70 spite envious malice
arch-mock a coinage. Note how the fiend Iago mocks
throughout this scene (4.1.2ff., 61, 67–8, 102n.).

60 you? no, by heaven] Q; you not, by Heauen F 61 fortune] F; fortunes Q 65

confess it] F; confesse Q Good] Qc, F; God Qu 68 lie] F; lyes Q

71 *To … couch roughly = to kiss an unchaste woman in a

bed free from anxiety (transferred epithet). But the
words are more suggestive, esp. lip, which could = kiss
obscenely (cf. WT 1.2.286); also, because the wanton
points to Desdemona.
72–3 a slippery comparison of one who supposes with one
who knows, for ‘knowing what I am’ (viz. an imperfect
 creature) only leads to another supposition, ‘I know
what she shall be’ (i.e. she’s bound to be unchaste). Cf.
1.3.350ff., and Ham 4.5.43–4, ‘we know what we are,
but know not what we may be’.
74 ’tis certain Either it is certain that Iago is wise, or that
Desdemona is unchaste.
75 Stand … apart A comedy routine: a victim is tricked
into overhearing what others want him to hear. Cf.
Plautus, Miles Gloriosus, 1175ff., MA 2.3.40ff., 3.1,
3.3.144ff.
76 i.e. only keep yourself within the boundary of patience.
Cf. TN 1.3.8, ‘confine yourself within the modest limits
of order’.
77 o’erwhelmed o’erwhelmèd; ere while, mad is one of Q’s
clearest instances of misreading: Texts, 41–2, 89.
78 unsuiting unique in Shakespeare. The Q press-
corrector probably consulted the manuscript, otherwise
he would not have changed vnfitting.
79 I … away I got him out of the way (OED shift 16, first
here).
80 ’scuse i.e. explanation (implying that Othello’s fit was
somehow shameful)
ecstasy state of unconsciousness (swoon, trance, etc.)
81 anon soon; or, immediately
82 encave a coinage = conceal. Cf. Cym 4.2.138, ‘Cave
here, hunt here’ (= to lurk, as in a cave).
83 fleers sneers
notable striking, noticeable
84 dwell abide; persist
region part or division of the body (OED 6)

71 couch] F (Cowch); Coach Q 73 she shall] QF; shall Steevens conj. 74 wise,]
Q; wise: F 77 o’erwhelmed] F; ere while, mad Q 78 unsuiting] vnsuting Qc;
 vnfitting Qu; resulting F 80 ’scuse] Q (scuse); scuses F 81 Bade] F; Bid Q
return] F; retire Q 82 Do] F; not in Q 83 fleers] F; leeres Q

87 hath A teasing pause is effective (cf. 32n.), and helps to

explain the change of construction.
cope encounter, come into contact with, i.e. copulate with.
A cope(s)mate is a paramour (OED 3).
88 gesture bearing, deportment; expression
89 1all … spleen altogether turned into spleen (the seat of
melancholy and sudden or violent passion) 91 Cf. TC
5.2.46, the comedy routine of the impatient man
swearing patience.
92 not amiss quite in keeping with the object in view (OED
2). A strangely detached remark.
93 keep time Cf. Dent, T308.1, ‘Keep time in all’; =
maintain control (Ridley); or, everything in good time.
SD In fact he hides (becoming more like Iago, who
habitually ‘hides’).
94 of about
95 housewife Perhaps we should read hussy (a woman of
light character, or prostitute: cf. 1.3.273n.).
97–8 Cf. Dent, D179, ‘He that deceives (beguiles) another is
oft deceived himself’, and ‘Wily beguiled’ (Tilley,
W406). Plague = affliction; beguile = deceive; charm.
99 refrain F restraine is possible (OED 7 = refrain). Q or F
misreads.
100 Here he comes Cassio’s opportune arrival suggests
that everything plays into Iago’s hands.

87 hath] F; has Q 89 you’re] F (y’are); you are Q 93 SD] Rowe; not in QF 96

clothes] Q; Cloath F 99 refrain] Q; restraine F 100.1] as F; opp. 98 Q
102 unbookish a coinage. Cf. 1.1.23: Iago is equally
scornful about the bookish and unbookish!
*construe interpret. See Texts, 83.
103 light frivolous
104 in the wrong erroneously
105 addition title
106 want lack
107 Ply handle; keep working on
sure on’t i.e. sure to get what you want
108 power Sisson thinks Iago has Bianca’s ‘marriage to
Cassio in mind’ and reads dower (= F). A turned letter
(p:d)?
109 speed succeed
caitiff wretch
112 rogue could be a term of endearment
113 faintly i.e. without expecting to carry conviction
out away

102 construe] Rowe; conster Q; conserue F 103 behaviour] Q; behauiours F

104 now] Q; not in F 108 SD] Rowe; not in QF power] Q; dowre F 110–57]
all Othello’s speeches marked ‘Aside’, Theobald; not in QF 111 a] Q; not in
F 112 i’faith] Q; indeed F 114–15 him … o’er] as F; him to tell it on, Q

115 o’er i.e. over again

well said = well done (sarcastic). Often said when no
words have been spoken (e.g. 5.1.98; Poetaster,
3.4.345).
118 Ha, ha, ha a signal for the actor to laugh, for as long
as he sees fit: cf. 5.1.62n.
119 triumph prevail (over an enemy); exult; celebrate a
triumph (a ceremonial entry by a victorious general).
‘Othello calls him Roman ironically. Triumph, which
 was a Roman ceremony, brought Roman into his
thoughts’ (Johnson).
120 customer one who purchases (sexual services) (=
Cassio); or, a prostitute (= Bianca) (OED 3, 4) 120–
1bear … wit think more kindly of my judgement
121 unwholesome unhealthy, defective
123 they … win Cf. Dent, L93, ‘He laughs that wins’, i.e.
they that laugh last laugh best.
124 cry goes rumour is current
126 I am a true villain if it’s not so. Cf. 2.1.114n.
127 stored could mean to provide for the continuance of a
stock or breed, or to produce offspring (cf. Heywood,
Golden Age [1611], H2, ‘from your own blood you may
store a prince / To do those sacred rights’, quoted OED
2): i.e. ‘Have you begotten children for me?’ F’s scoar’d
(= wounded) is less likely.
128 monkey’s ‘Used as a term of playful contempt, chiefly
of young people’ (OED 2b), more usually of boys than
girls. Cf. Mac 4.2.59, ‘God help thee, poor monkey!’;
Tem 3.2.45.

115 2well said] F; not in Q 119 ye] F; you Q 120–2] QF line as verse wit / ha. /
Q; beare / it / ha. F 120 marry!] as F; marry her? Q What … customer!] F;
not in Q prithee] F; I prethee Q 123 they] F; not in Q win] F4; wins QF 124
Faith] Q; Why F that you shall] you shall Q; that you F 127 Have] F; Ha Q
stored] Q(stor’d); scoar’d F me? Well] F; me well. Q 128–30] prose Q; F
lines out: / marry her / promise. /

130 flattery in the sense of ‘she flatters herself that’

(Ridley)
131 beckons makes a signal to. Could be spelled becon
(OED); F probably misread becon(e)s.
133 sea-bank sea coast or shore
134 bauble a childish or foolish person (OED 5b, first
here): originally a child’s toy or childish foolery 135 by
this hand probably omitted from F by Crane (Texts,
166) me ethic dative
137 imports implies
138 lolls hangs down, dangles
139 shakes Q hales = hauls, drags
141 chamber private room; bedroom nose Cf. Martial:
‘Husband, you have disfigured the wretched gallant,
and his countenance, deprived of nose and ears,
regrets the loss of its original form’ (2.83; cf. 3.85); also
42 above: ‘Noses, ears, and lips.’ Hulme, 135, thinks
nose suggests penis.
141–2 but … to Cf. Exodus 22.30, ‘neither shall ye eat any
flesh that is torn of beasts in the field, but shall cast it
to a dog’.
143 company could mean ‘sexual connection’, as in
Caxton, ‘Thamar, that had company with her husbondes
fader’ (OED 2) 144 Before me perhaps formed on the
analogy of ‘before God’ (= by God). So TN 2.3.178,
‘Before me, she’s a good wench’; Cor 1.1.120.

131 beckons] Q; becomes F 133 the other] F; tother Q 134 the] F; this Q 135
and … me] by this hand she fals Q; and falls me F 138–9] prose Q; F lines
vpon me: / ha. / 139 shakes] F; hales Q 140–2] prose F; Q lines Chamber, /
to. / 141 O] F; not in Q 142 it] F; ’t Q 144.1] as F; opp. 143 Q

145 such another another of the same sort (OED 1c); like
all the rest of them (Ridley) fitchew polecat,
notoriously malodorous and lecherous. Cf. OED polecat
2: a vile person; prostitute.
145–6 marry … one F’s punctuation could imply ‘Do they
think that I’ll marry a perfumed fitchew?!’
147 Cf. Dent, D225, ‘The devil and his dam’; dam = mother
(dame).
149 even just
149–50 I must … work Cf. 3.4.180n.
150 A … work i.e. a likely story! A piece of work was a set
phrase, as in Ham 2.2.303, ‘What a piece of work is a
man’.
152 minx’s Cf. 3.3.478n.
token pledge, present
153 hobby-horse loose woman, prostitute
154 on’t from it
155 How now (meant to soothe or restrain)
156 should i.e. must
158 when … for when next I make preparations for you,
i.e. never 164 fain gladly

145 SP] F; not in Q 145–6 fitchew; marry, … one.] ficho; marry a perfum’d one,
Q; Fitchew: marry a perfum’d one? F 150 the] F; the whole Q 151 know
not] F; not know Q 153 your] F; the Q 155] as Q; F lines Bianca? / now? /
157 If] F; An Q if] F; an Q 160 Faith] Q; not in F in … streets] F; i’the
streete Q 162 Faith] Q; Yes F 166 SD] Q; not in F

167ff. For the first time Iago and Othello converse in prose.
172–4 Yours … whore Q’s omission comes at the end of a
page (Kla), an error in ‘casting off (Texts, 46–7).
172 prizes esteems
175 a-killing in the killing, i.e. I’d have him die a very slow
death (unique in Shakespeare) 175–6 A … 3woman
Here, and in the next speeches, with their sudden flip-
over from hate to love, tragedy comes close to farce: cf.
MV 3.1.97ff.
179–80 my … stone Dent, H311, ‘A heart of (as hard as a)
stone’. Cf. Job 41.15, ‘His heart is as hard as a stone,
 and as fast as the stithy that the smith smiteth upon.’
181 creature any created being; person
181–2 she … tasks i.e. (if she had been chaste) her
sweetness would have had an irresistible power over an
emperor. An image inspired by folk tale or romance?
Normally the lady commanded tasks before marriage.
183 your way ‘like you’ or ‘the best course’
185–6 O … bear like Orpheus?
186 high superior
187 wit and invention even if taken as ‘understanding and
imagination’, unexpected attributes

167 murder] Q; murther F 172–4] F; not in Q 175–6] prose Q; F lines killing: /

woman? / 177 that] F; not in Q 178 Ay] F (I); And Q 181 hath] F; has Q

190 so … condition probably ‘so sweet-natured a

disposition’, but could = so well bred in social
background. Cf. 2.1.247–8.
191 gentle mild; yielding, pliant
192 the … it Cf. MM 2.3.42, ‘’Tis pity of him’ (of = in
respect of: OED pity 3b). Othello appeals as the weaker
to the stronger.
pity Cf. 1.3.162, ‘’Twas pitiful, ’twas wondrous pitiful’, 169:
pity plays a significant part in their relationship.
193 O … Iago! Cf. 2.3.260–1, ‘My reputation, Iago’.
194–5 If you be so doting as regards her wickedness, give
her a licence to sin (OED over prep. 4c: concerning).
194 patent licence; a papal licence or indulgence. Malone
compared E3 2.1.422 (1596 edn, D1b), ‘Why then giue
sinne a pasport to offend’ (meaning a sexual offence, in
both plays).
195–6 if … nobody if it doesn’t hurt you it hurts nobody;
Holland’s Livy (1600): ‘In this last speech he came
 neere unto the LL. of the Senat, and touched them to
the quick’ (quoted OED, near, 12b).
197 messes (servings of) meat; we might say ‘chop her into
mincemeat’. The ‘Barbarian’ has many European
cousins: cf. Plautus, Truculentus, 613, ‘I’ll take this
blade and here hew thee into gobbets!’
199 officer an act of whoredom and insubordination!
202 expostulate set forth my grievances, argue
203 unprovide i.e. disarm

189–90] as Q; F lines times: / condition? 189 O … 2thousand] F; A thousand

thousand Q 192–3] as Q; F lines certaine: / 192 Nay] F; I Q 193 O, Iago …
Iago!] F; the pitty. Q 194 are] F; be Q 195 touch] F; touches Q 199 officer!]
Officer? F 201 night. I’ll] F; night I’le Q 204–9] prose Q; F lines bed, /
contaminated. / good: / very good. / vndertaker: / midnight. /

206–7 Good … good Some repetitions in this scene

suggest that Othello’s mind is half tranced. Cf.
Marston, Antonio and Mellida (Revels), 3.2.30, ‘Good,
very good, very passing, passing good’. There are
comic overtones, as in AYL 5.1.27, ‘“So, so” is good,
very good, very excellent good’.
206 justice of it Cf. 193, ‘the pity of it’.
208 undertaker one who (1) carries out work for another;
(2) takes up a challenge; (3) ‘takes on’ something. OED
first records ‘one who makes arrangements for
funerals’ in 1698, but this sense may be glanced at.
212.1 Though not named, Gratiano probably enters here.
216 With … heart (I thank you) with all my heart, or, (I
wish it) with all my heart. One expects Othello to return
the wish. He merely accepts it.
218 instrument formal document in which they express
their commands (OED pleasure 2) 219 cousin could =
kinsman. Gratiano is Desdemona’s uncle (5.2.252):
 Shakespeare reminds us that she is well connected in
Venice.

210 SD] A Trumpet. Q (opp. 209); not in F 212–14] F; Something from Venice
sure, tis Lodouico, / Come from the Duke, and see your wife is with him. Q;
’Tis Lodovico – this comes from the Duke. Sisson 212.1] QF (after 209) 215
God save] Q; Saue F you] F; the Q 217 and] Q; and the F SD] Rowe; not in
QF 218 SD] Capell subst.; not in QF

220 Iago butts in, as often elsewhere.

223 Cf. Plautus, Curculio, 235, ‘quid agis? – Vivo (How are
you? – Living [lit. I live])’; Persa, 17; also 2H4 3.2.200.
225 unkind unnatural; strange
breach disagreement, quarrel; a breaking of relations
(OED 5, first recorded 1605) 229 in in reading
230 division disagreement
231 unhappy unfortunate
232 atone reconcile
love affection, goodwill (Othello thinks sexual love)
233 Fire and brimstone first recorded by OED as
ejaculation in TN 2.5.50, but biblical in origin (Genesis
19.24, Revelation 19.20). Fire is disyllabic here (Abbott,
480). Traditionally associated with hell (Faerie Queene,
1.9.49).
wise in your right mind, sane (OED 4)

220–1] as F; prose Q 226] (Aside) Theobald 228 SD] Theobald; not in QF 230
’twixt my] F; betweene thy Q 232 T’] F; To Q

236 Deputing appointing (not necessarily as deputy)

government appointment as governor (OED 3b, first in
1617); tenure of office (OED 4b, first in 1603) 237 on’t
 of it Indeed as at 3.3.101, but with different
implications
238 He echoes or mimics Desdemona’s ‘I am glad’, i.e. to
see you so foolish (mad) (as to admit your love for
Cassio). But mad may be corrupt.
Why, sweet Othello? This could be an exclamation of
surprise or remonstrance, rather than a question. Cf.
AYL 4.3.157, ‘Why, how now, Ganymed, sweet
Ganymed’.
239 *SD Some actors strike her with the letter, but 272
suggests that he strikes her with his hand. Calderwood
thinks that the letter ‘arouses his passion’ but
Desdemona’s innocent remarks are surely the cause.
241–2 Cf. Dent, E264.1, ‘To believe one’s (own) eyes’.
242 ’Tis very much it goes too far
244 teem give birth, bring forth (as a result of women’s
tears)
245 falls lets fall. Cf. Dent, C831, ‘Crocodile tears’.
prove turn out to be

234 the letter] Q; thLetter F 237 By … troth] Q; Trust me F Indeed!] Indeed. Q;

Indeed? F 238 glad …] this edn; glad QF Why] F; How Q 239 SD] Theobald;
not in QF 244 woman’s] F; womens Q

249 Mistress not the normal way of addressing one’s wife.

Cf. 1.3.178, 5.2.181.
250 My lord? her fourth ‘My lord?’ since 227, part of the
crescendo effect here
252–3 turn turn back; be fickle (turn = change); also
implying ‘the best turn i’th’ bed’ (AC 2.5.59). A.
Shickman compared ‘turning pictures’, which could
show different images of a person at the same time
(weeping, a devil, etc.) (N&Q, 223 [1978], 145–6).
255 obedient yielding to desires or wishes; compliant
(OED 3): he means sexually compliant.
256 Proceed … tears This could be a question (Warner, in
Malone, 1821).
257 this i.e. the letter from Venice
well-painted well-pretended
258 home might = Venice or Mauretania (4.2.226), but 260
proves that he understands it as Venice. Q here looks
like misreading but is possible (giving an unfinished
sentence).
259 mandate command
260 avaunt (usually expresses loathing or horror) away! be
off!

247 an] Q; not in F 258 home] F; here Q 260 SD] Rowe; not in QF

261 Cassio … place This may be shouted at Desdemona as

or after she leaves; place = his place as commander;
perhaps, his place as lover (cf. KL 5.1.10–11, ‘have you
never found my brother’s way / To the forfended
place?’).
263 Goats and monkeys Cf. ‘as prime as goats, as hot as
monkeys’ (3.3.406–7n.). ‘These words, we may suppose,
still ring in the ears of Othello’ (Malone).
264 full complete
265 sufficient competent, capable
*This the nature Q noble and F Is look like unconscious
repetitions.
266 shake upset. (Has Othello been shaking with passion?
Cf. 39ff., 5.2.44.)
solid substantial (OED 13, first in 1601)
virtue (moral) excellence; manliness
267 (neither) accidental shot nor a chance spear (thrust),
i.e. no unforeseen misfortune
269 safe in sound health
270–2 Cf. 2.3.117–24, where Iago also draws attention to a
change (in Cassio) that he has brought about.
270 breathe whisper
censure opinion; criticism
271–2 ‘Perhaps the most cryptic of all Iago’s similar
remarks’ (Ridley). Might seems to change its meaning:
first, Othello might be at fault (therefore to be
censured); second, he might be unchanged (hence
‘would to heaven he were’). Or, ‘if he isn’t of unsound
mind, then it might be better to wish he were in fact
insane, since only that could excuse his wild behaviour’
(Bevington).
273 that … well Cf. 23, ‘That’s not so good now.’

263] as Q; F lines Cyprus. / Monkeys. / SD] Qc, F; not in Qu 265 This the
nature] as Pope; This the noble nature Q; Is this the Nature F 270 is:] F; is,
Q censure] (see Furness); censure, Q; censure. F 271 be: if what] F; be, if
as Q

274 stroke blow; (?)masterstroke (first recorded in later

seventeenth century)
use custom
275 blood passion
279 courses habitual actions
denote be the outward visible mark of (OED 3), reveal
282 I am … I am read ‘I’m … I am’; or ‘I am sorry that I’m’
deceived mistaken
4.2
4.2 Location: this scene starts indoors (cf. 28), and in some
productions in Desdemona’s bedroom. Later Roderigo
wanders in (174n.), and it seems to be outdoors: one of
the advantages of unlocalized staging.
1–11 Note the abrupt opening. And the tug between prose
and verse rhythms, coming to rest in ‘That’s strange’.
2 suspect Othello may interrupt before she can finish.
3 *seen … she While she was sometimes used as object, I
assume that Othello hesitates to use Desdemona’s
name. Cf. AC 3.13.98 (repunctuated), ‘So saucy with
the hand of – she here, what’s her name’.

276 this] Q; his F 4.2.1 then?] F; then. Q 3 you] F; and you Q and … she] this
edn; and she QF 5 them] F; ’em Q

9 mask Venetian ladies wore masks during the Carnival.

12 honest chaste
13 at stake at hazard (after wager); at the stake (like a
martyr dying for his faith) 14 abuse deceive; wrong
bosom breast (considered as the seat of secret thoughts
and feelings: OED 6a). Cf. 3.1.57.
15 She contradicts her earlier view that jealousy is self-
begotten (3.4.159–62). This prepares for 132ff.
16 serpent’s curse Cf. Genesis 3.14, where God curses the
serpent.
20 enough elliptical: enough to sound plausible
simple naive, artless, feeble
bawd procuress
21 This seems to refer to Emilia, but kneel and pray to
Desdemona 22 closet private room; safe, cabinet (as in
Mac 5.1.6) lock and key with lock and key. But cf.
Homilies, 385, ‘this article … is even the very lock and
key of all our Christian religion’.
7 o’th’] F; o’the Q 9 gloves, her mask] F; mask, her gloues Q 15 have] F; ha Q
16 heaven] F; heauens Q requite] Q; requit F 18 their wives] F; her Sex Q
19 SD] F; opp. slander Q 21 subtle] Q; subtile F 22 closet, … key,] Q;
Closset Locke and Key F; closset-lock and key Rowe 23 she’ll (special
emphasis: he avoids naming Desdemona as at 3, but may mean Emilia here)
24 chuck Cf. 3.4.49.
25 pleasure wish, will
27 function the action proper to a person who is the
holder of an office. He treats Emilia as if she has a
function in a brothel: ‘behave as a bawd should, leave
us alone’.
28 procreants procreators (usually an adjective, as in Mac
1.6.8) 29 cry hem give a warning cough
30 mystery trade; here, facetiously, your trade as bawd
dispatch hurry
31 Upon my knees Kneeling in submission was not
unusual.

23 have] F; ha Q 24 Pray] Q; Pray you F 27 SD] Hanmer; not in QF 30 nay] Q;

May F 31 knees] Q; knee F doth] F; does Q 33 But … words] Q; not in F 36–
9 Come … honest!] as Q; prose F

37–8 Lest … thee Devils may only carry off to hell those

who spiritually belong to them. Lest = for fear that.
38 double-damned (1) for adultery, (2) for perjury
40 false as hell Cf. Dent, H398, ‘As false as hell’ (not
recorded before Shakespeare).
42 away Either she clings to him and he pushes her away,
or he wants to get away, or he means ‘let’s get away
from this pointless talk’: cf. TC 5.3.88, KL 1.4.89–91,
Cor 1.1.12.
43 heavy sorrowful. Cf. 3.4.158.
44 motive cause
45 haply by chance
46 instrument usually ‘a person made use of by another
person for the accomplishment of a purpose’ (OED 1b);
here ‘as instrumental in’
calling back recall (to Venice)
47 lost him lost him as a friend
48–54 Referring to the afflictions of Job: God rained these
(sores, poverty, etc.) upon him: Job 2.7, 20.23.
48–9 heaven … they Should we read he for they (cf. Texts,
83), God for heaven?
49 rained Note the ‘water’ imagery: rained, Steeped, drop,
fountain, current, dries up, cistern.

41] as Q; F lines Lord? / false? / 42 Ah, Desdemon] F; O Desdemona Q 44

motive … these] F; occasion … those Q 45 haply] Q; happely F 47, 48 lost]
F; left Q 48 Why] Q; not in F 49 they rained] F; he ram’d Q 50 kinds] Q;
kind F bare head] Q; bare-head F

51 perhaps alluding to Tantalus, who was punished in hell

with intense thirst and placed in water up to the chin,
but unable to drink
52 utmost lit. ‘farthest from the centre’; greatest; latest.
Perhaps referring to his utmost descendants.
55 Perhaps we should read ‘The fixed figure, for the time,
of scorn’, i.e. the fixed target of scorn for the whole age
(OED time 4) to point its (his) slow and (relentlessly)
moving finger at. Or does ‘the time of scorn’ merely =
the scornful time?
fixed fixèd
figure Cf. Hebrews 10.33, ‘ye were made a gazing stock
both by reproaches and afflictions’.
56 Cf. Dent, D321, ‘To move as does the dial hand, which is
not seen to move’. Perhaps referring to ‘the finger of
God’ (Exodus 8.19 and Luke 11.20). ‘The finger of the
 scornful world is slowly raised to the position of
pointing; and then … it becomes unmoving’ (Kittredge,
defending Q). No: Othello sees himself as unmoving
(the ‘fixed figure’), so Q seems unlikely here. Finger (if
F is correct) may be a collective noun.
*For Q oh, oh, cf. 5.1.62n.
58ff. The sequence there where, where, from the which,
thence, there, here, ‘helps the passage to cohere’
(Elliott, 180).
garnered up stored (the products of the earth) as in a
garner. Perhaps heart = all my emotions, or hopes.
60 See LN.
62 cistern an artificial reservoir for water; a pond (OED 3,
first in AC 2.5.94–5, ‘So half my Egypt were submerged
and made / A cestern for scaled snakes’).
toads Cf. 3.3.274n.
63 knot … gender i.e. copulate. A ‘Marstonian’ image: cf.
Antonio’s Revenge (1602), ‘Clipping the strumpet with
luxurious twines … clinged in sensuality’ (Revels,
1.4.18, 31); also TC 2.3.158–9, ‘I do hate a proud man,
as I do the engend’ring of toads.’
complexion countenance, face (OED 4c, only this instance
cited). The gloss ‘Grow pale when that happens’
(Sanders) is unlikely: after there, 58, Turn must mean
‘switch’, not ‘change colour’. A corrupt line?

52 utmost] F; not in Q 53 place] F; part Q 55 The] F; A Q time] QF; hand Rowe

56 and moving] F; vnmouing Q finger at] F; fingers at – oh, oh Q

64 Patience ‘Even Patience, that rose-lipped cherub, will

look grim and pale at this spectacle’ (Bevington). Cf. a
near-contemporary personification, ‘She sate like
Patience on a monument, / Smiling at grief’ (TN
2.4.114–15).
rose-lipped a coinage (with sexual overtones?)
cherubin survived in popular usage as a singular to the
eighteenth century (OED) 65 *here look, First he
speaks obliquely of Desdemona (58–64), now he turns
on her: it is not some remote place he means, it is here,
it is Desdemona! The difference between here, look and
here look, is not huge. Both are possible, as is there
(for here): Texts, 90.
grim unrelenting; cruel, savage
66 honest chaste, virtuous
67 shambles slaughter-house; meat market
68 quicken receive life, are inseminated, i.e. with the
blowing of the wind
68–9 Weeds are neither lovely nor sweet-smelling: he
means, ‘thou weed, pretending to be a beautiful
flower’. But weed could = any herb or small plant (OED
2: ‘chiefly poetical’). He perhaps savours the sweet
smell, anticipating 5.2.15ff.
70 a regular verse line if we read ‘would thou’dst ne’er
been born!’ (Texts, 119)
aches ‘the keenness and intensity of the pleasure becomes
even painful’ (Kittredge) 71 ignorant unknowing
(transferred epithet: she, not the sin, is ignorant); or,
unknown (OED 4). Cf. Middleton, The Witch (MSR 752),
‘What secreat syn haue I committed’.
72 For the loved one as a book, cf. RJ 1.3.87, ‘This precious
book of love, this unbound lover’, KJ 2.1.485.
73 committed ‘Othello’s furious iteration of Desdemona’s
unhappily chosen word depends on its Elizabethan use
absolutely as = “commit adultery”; “commit not with
man’s sworn spouse” (KL 3.4.81)’ (Ridley). Cf. OED 6c.

64 thou] F; thy Q 65 here look,] this edn; here looke QF; there look Theobald;
there, look Capell 67 as] Q, Fc; as a Fu summer] F (Sommer); summers Q
68–70] O … faire? / at thee, / borne. Q; weed: / sweete, / at thee, / borne. F
 68–9 thou weed / Who] F; thou blacke weede, why Q 69 and] F; Thou Q 70
thou hadst] QF; thou’dst F4 ne’er] Q; neuer F 73 upon] F; on Q

74 public commoner common whore

75 forges A forge consisted of an open hearth with bellows
attached, used for heating iron: here the cheeks are the
bellows, her modesty is tough as iron.
78 Heaven … it Cf. Ezechiel 39.11, ‘those that travel
thereby, shall stop their noses’.
moon (symbol of chastity)
winks shuts its eye(s)
79 Cf. Dent, A88, ‘As free as the air (wind)’; John 3.8, ‘The
wind bloweth where it listeth’; MV 2.6.16, ‘the
strumpet wind’.
80 mine cave. In Virgil (Aeneid, 1.52), Aeolus, controller of
the winds, keeps the winds in a vast cavern. Cf. 2H6
3.2.89, ‘he that loos’d them [winds] forth their brazen
caves’.
81 will not refuses to
82 Impudent (shockingly) shameless: stronger than now
85 vessel body. Cf. 1 Thessalonians 4.3ff., ‘abstain from
fornication: That every one of you should know how to
possess his vessel in holiness and honour’; 1 Peter 3.7,
let the husband give honour to his wife, ‘as unto the
weaker vessel’. Cf. jokes in other plays about woman as
‘the weaker vessel’ (AYL 2.4.6), ‘the emptier vessel’
(2H4 2.4.60).
86 hated F other might imply that Othello’s touch is foul
and unlawful.
touch Cf. Plautus, Amphitruo, 831ff. (a wife to her
suspicious husband), ‘I swear … no mortal man, save
you only, has taken me to him as a wife’ (corpus
corpore contigit = has touched my body with his).
74–7 Committed? … committed!] F; not in Q 80 hollow] F; hallow Q 81 hear’t]
QF; hear it Steevens 82 Impudent strumpet] Q; not in F 86 hated] Q; other
F

89 Is’t possible? Note how this question echoes through

the play: 2.3.283, 3.3.361, 3.4.70, 4.1.42.
90 O … us With Q, compare R2 5.5.90, ‘Forgiveness,
horse!’ But as Desdemona has done no wrong, forgive
us (i.e. for misunderstanding and hurting each other?)
seems more appropriate. Perhaps she now collapses,
and Othello rants as she lies insensible, coming out of a
state of shock at 99 (hence Emilia’s concern). This
would then be her equivalent to Othello’s fit.
90–1 I … for ‘I beg your pardon, I mistook you for’
(sarcastic). Cf. KL 3.6.52, ‘Cry you mercy, I took you for
a join-stool’ (the same pretence of misunderstanding).
93–4 Cf. Matthew 16.18–19, ‘the gates of hell shall not
prevail … I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom
of heaven’ (Noble, 276).
95 course the rush together of two combatants, bout, i.e.
sexual encounter
96 keep our counsel i.e. don’t give us away
97 this gentleman Cf. 3.4.100, ‘this man’.
conceive imagine
99 asleep stunned, numb (OED 4)

90 forgive us] F; forgiuenesse Q then] F; not in Q 92.1] as F; opp. saued 88 Q

94 keep] Rowe; keepes QF gates] Q; gate F of] F; in Q 1you … 3you] F; I,
you, you, you Q 95 have] F; ha Q 100] as Q; F lines Madam, / Lord? /

101 *whom For omitted m, see Texts, 89.

106 go by water be conveyed by tears. There was much
traffic ‘by water’ on the River Thames.
107 wedding sheets to remind Othello of their former love
(but, according to ‘short time’, their wedding sheets
were used the previous night. Also ominous, as wives
were sometimes buried in their wedding sheets.
109 meet fitting
used treated
110–11 i.e. ‘how have I misbehaved myself that he thinks it
right to attach the smallest (adverse) judgement to my
greatest fault?’ Walker paraphrased F, ‘how enormous
my smallest fault must have been that the least
significance could be attached to it’.
112 How … you? so Ham 3.4.116

101 whom] F2; who QF 103] F; not in Q 104 have] F; ha Q 105 answers] F;
answer Q 107 2my] F; our Q 108 Here’s] F; Here is Q 109 2meet] F; well Q
111 small’st] F; smallest Q greatest] Q; least F misuse] F; abuse Q 112] as
QF; Q lines Madam, / you? /

114 tasks perhaps = reproofs, from task (OED vb 5) =

chide, censure. Cf. KL 1.4.343, ‘much more at task for
want of wisedome, / Then prai’sd for harmefull
mildnesse’ (F).
117 bewhored i.e. berated her as if she were a whore; a
coinage, from the verb ‘to whore’ (as in Ham 5.2.64,
‘whor’d my mother’), to make a whore of, with prefix
be- (= thoroughly) 118 despite outrage; anger; abuse
heavy angry; violent; distressing
terms words
122 whore She feels Desdemona’s pain, yet adds to it by
repeating the word.
in … drink when drinking or drunk
123 laid … upon applied to
callat slut
127 forsook declined, given up
matches marriages; husbands

115 have] F; ha Q 116 to] F; at Q 119 That … bear it] Fc (heart Fu); As true
hearts cannot beare Q 121 said] F; sayes Q 127–8] punctuated as Q; F
punctuates Matches? … Father? … Country? … Friends? 127 Hath] F; Has
Q 128 2and] F; all Q

130 Beshrew evil befall (a refined oath)

131 trick a freakish or stupid act
heaven doth know (only) heaven knows
132 I will let me
eternal ‘Used to express extreme abhorrence’ (OED 7,
citing JC 1.2.159–60, ‘There was a Brutus once that
would have brooked / Th’eternal devil to keep his state
in Rome’); or, used as an intensive (Hart). Cf. 15–16. An
eternal villain almost = a devil.
133 busy meddlesome
insinuating wriggling into favour, subtly penetrating (as in
1H6 2.4.35, ‘base insinuating flattery’) 134 some
cheating, deceiving scoundrel, to obtain some position.
Emilia senses that someone like Iago is responsible,
and may suspect him.
138 A halter the hangman’s noose. Cf. T. Harman,
Groundworke of Conny-catching (?1592), C1b, ‘a halter
blesse him for mee’.
hell … bones Cf. Middleton, Your Five Gallants (?1608),
D4a, ‘Hel gnawe these dice’.
140 form manner, way. Presumably Shakespeare knew that
his ‘short time’ allowed no time or likelihood for
adultery, and trusted his audience not to notice.
141 abused deceived

130 for’t] F; for it Q 135 I’ll] Q; I will F 138–40] as Q; F lines him: / bones. /
Whore? / companie? / Time? / liklyhood? / 141 most villainous] F;
 outragious Q

142 notorious gross (Johnson: but OED 6 first records in

1666) scurvy contemptible, worthless
143 companions fellows (contemptuous)
unfold expose
145 Cf. 4.3.37–8, her other geographical fantasy: the guilty
have to travel huge distances in some discomfort.
lash Sexual and minor offenders were lashed in public. Cf.
KL 4.6.160–1, ‘Thou rascal beadle, hold thy bloody
hand! / Why dost thou lash that whore?’
146 Cf. Dent, E43.1, ‘as far as (from) the east from (to) the
west’.
within doors less loudly (OED door 5: speak so as not to
be heard outside the door). Or perhaps ‘keep your
thoughts to yourself.
147 squire used contemptuously (OED 1d)
148 the … without inside out. The seamy side of a
garment = the worst or roughest side. Cf. 2.3.49,
1.3.385–7, 2.1.289ff.
150 go to Cf. 194n.
*God F Alas looks like expurgated profanity: cf. 2.3.147,
5.2.116, where F alas is clearly expurgated. Q Good
could be an error for God (cf. 4.1.65 t.n.; good was not
normally capitalized). Cf. Ham 5.2.344, ‘O god Horatio,
what a wounded name’ (Q2; good F).
151 win regain the affection of
154 trespass sin (noun or verb)
155 discourse process. Noble (34–5) notes that here Q2
has independent support from the Liturgy: ‘sins
(committed) by thought, word, and deed’ (taking
discourse = word).
143 heaven] Q; Heauens F thou’dst] thoudst Q; thou’d’st F 145 rascals] F;
rascall Q 146 to th’] F; to the Q doors] Q; doore F 147 them] F; him Q 150 O
God] this edn; O Good Q; Alas F 153–66 Here … me.] F; not in Q 155 of] F;
or Q2

156 that if (= 158)

157 form (human) body; person
158 Or … yet or if I do not still
159 shake me off Cf. 3.3.266, ‘I’d whistle her off’.
161 Comfort may relief or aid (in want or distress)
forswear abandon
Unkindness absence of affection; unnatural conduct;
hostility
162 defeat destroy
163 taint corrupt
164 It … me I feel abhorrence. A quibble, as in ‘Abhorson’
(MM 4.2.19), though abhor comes from Lat. abhorreo
and whore from OE hore. Cf. Homilies, 109 (‘against
Whoredom’), ‘whoredom … ought to be abhorred’.
165 addition title
166 mass greater part (OED 6)
vanity vain or worthless things (treasure? fine clothes?).
Cf. Ecclesiastes 1.2, ‘Vanity of vanities … all is vanity.’
167 be content don’t worry
humour temporary state of mind (OED 5)
168 does him offence displeases him, gives him pain
169 And and therefore
chide quarrel (OED 2b)
170–1 Q has you in 170 and 171, both omitted by F.
Perhaps you was a later addition for 170 (where
warrant could be a monosyllable), marked unclearly,
and so wrongly inserted in 171.
172 stay stay for, await
meat food

157 them in] Q2; them: or F 169] Q; not in F 170 ’Tis] Tis Q; It is F warrant] F;
warrant you Q SD] Rowe (after 171); not in QF 171 summon] F; summon
you Q 172 The … meat] as F (staies the meate); And the great Messengers
of Venice stay Q

173 all … well a common saying (cf. 3.1.43, 3.4.19–20) 175

a verse line (it follows a verse passage) or prose (it
begins a passage of prose)?
177 doff’st dost put me off, get rid of me
device trick
179 conveniency opportunity (OED 4c, first in 1645)
180 advantage opportunity, favourable occasion
181 put up put up with
184–5 *Faith … together For the misplaced ‘And hell gnaw
his bones’ (t.n.), see Walton, 215–27.
your … together Cf. Dent, P602, ‘Great promise small
performance’.
190 votarist one bound by vows to a religious life (and to
renounce fornication)

173 SD] as F; Exit women. Q 173.1] F; opp. 174 Q 175] as Q; F lines finde / me.
/ 177–82] prose F; Q lines Iago; / from me, / least / indure it, / already /
sufferd. / 177 doff’st] dofftst Q; dafts F 178 now, keep’st] F; thou keepest Q
184–5 RODERIGO … words and] as Q, Fc; And hell gnaw his bones, Fu 184
Faith] Q; not in F 185 performances] F; performance Q 187 With … truth.]
F; not in Q 188 my means] F; meanes Q 189 deliver to] Q; deliuer F 190
hath] F; has Q them] F; em Q

191–2 returned … acquittance sent back favourable

promises and encouragements (implying) imminent
 consideration and repayment. F acquaintance is
possible.
194 2go to Roderigo takes Iago’s all-purpose phrase (= be
quiet; come, come; yes, yes; or, leave me alone) as
‘copulate’. Cf. Montaigne, 1.97, ‘Married men, because
… they may go to it when they list, ought never to
press’; AC 1.2.63–4, ‘O, let him marry a woman that
cannot go, sweet Isis’; Per 4.6.74.
196 scurvy shabby
fopped fobbed, cheated; made a fool
198–9 2I … known I will introduce myself (to Desdemona
and ask for an explanation).
200 repent a curious repentance, standing on conditions!
201 solicitation petition; sexual soliciting
202 satisfaction repayment; atonement for an offence; the
opportunity of satisfying one’s honour by a duel (OED
4, first in 1602) 203 said said your say (statement or
question) 204–5 protest intendment solemnly declare
my intention
206 mettle spirit, courage; quibbling on metal, after
satisfaction, with its hint of a duel 209 taken …
exception made objection, found fault

191 expectations] F; expectation Q 192 acquittance] Q; acquaintance F 193

well] F; good Q 194–5 nor ’tis] F; it is Q By this hand] Q; Nay F think it is]
F; say tis very Q 196 fopped] fopt QF; fob’d Rowe 198 I … ’tis] F; I say it is
Q 201 I will] F; I’le Q 204 and said] F; and I haue said Q 207 instant] F;
time Q 209 exception] F; conception Q

210 directly straightforwardly; correctly

affair business
216 purpose determination
219 engines plots, snares; engines of torture (OED 5b) 221
compass the bounds of possibility
223 depute appoint
226 Mauretania the homeland of the north African Moors.
If this is a lie (cf. 4.1.235), what does Iago gain by it? In
Mauretania Desdemona will be out of Roderigo’s reach,
so he must act now.
227 abode abiding, stay
228 lingered prolonged
229 determinate decisive
removing See 2.1.274–5, ‘the displanting of Cassio’; and
KL 5.1.64–5, ‘Let her who would be rid of him devise /
His speedy taking off.
234 profit benefit

210 affair] F; affaires Q 214 in] F; within Q 217 enjoy] F; enioyest Q 220 what is
it?] F; not in Q 222 especial] QF; a special (Malone) commission] F;
command Q 222–8] prose F; Q lines as if verse Venice, / place. / Desdemona
/ Venice. / him / linger’d 226 taketh] F; takes Q 230 removing of] Q;
remouing F 231–2] prose F; Q lines as if verse place, / braines. / 234 if] F;
and if Q a right] F; right Q

235 harlotry harlot (so RJ 4.2.14, 1H4 2.4.395).

236 He … fortune Iago cannot know this for certain. It
implies that Cassio will not be attended, as the new
governor might be, and can be struck down more easily.
238 fashion arrange, contrive
fall out happen
239 take strike; come upon suddenly (OED 5, 8b); i.e. kill
second support
240 fall between us fall down (or, be wounded; or, die) by
our joint action. Deliberately vague.
241 go along walk; join in
241–3 I … him Iago (or Shakespeare) sometimes shrugs off
explanations (3.3.322–3, 5.2.301–2, 320); in this
instance the explanations follow off stage (5.1.8–10).
243 put Put, like removing (229) and take (239), is vague,
screening the suggestion of murder. Cf. Ham 5.2.383,
‘deaths put on by cunning and forced cause’, WT
3.3.34–5.
high well advanced (as in high noon, high time)
244 grows to waste approaches its end (OED waste 10c);
implies ‘we’re wasting our time (talking)’
about it i.e. bestir yourself, make a move!
246 satisfied content (with satisfactory reasons);
convinced
4.3
4.3.0.1–2 Q’s entry, two lines before the end of 4.2, looks
like another misplaced or misinterpreted marginal SD.
The scene seems to be a public room or place, but later
becomes a more private place where Desdemona
unpins.
1–8 prose or verse? The short lines confuse the issue.

235 harlotry] F; harlot Q 246 SD] Ex. lag. and Rod. Q; Exeunt. F 4.3] Scena
Tertia. F; not in Q 0.1–2 SD] as F; Enter Othello, Desdemona, Lodouico,
Emillia, and Attendants. Q (after 4.2.244) 6 returned back
10 incontinent at once. Could also mean ‘wanting in self-
restraint: chiefly with reference to sexual appetite’
(OED 1), therefore an odd word here. Cf. AYL 5.2.38–9.
14 wearing apparel
15 We Associating Emilia with herself, Desdemona
unconsciously indicates that she needs help.
16 *Ay ‘I’ was a normal spelling for ‘Ay’, and F’s comma
suggests a stop after Ay. Heard in the theatre, ‘I’ and
‘Ay’ would be indistinguishable, hence Desdemona’s
reply (Texts, 132–3).

2 ’twill] F; it shall Q 4–7] prose QF 6 On th’] F; o’the Q 7 Dismiss] F; dispatch Q

’t] F; it Q 8.1] Exeunt. Q; Exit. F (opp. 7 QF) 11 And] F; He Q 12 bid] F; bad
Q 16 Ay. – Would] this edn; I would Q; I, would F; Would Q2

17 approve commend
18 stubbornness roughness: cf. 1.3.228.
checks reprimands
19, 33 unpin The word occurs nowhere else in
Shakespeare. It refers to the unpinning of Desdemona’s
dress or hair. Ellen Terry wrote ‘Hair’ in her text
(Hankey, 297), but editors and stage histories give little
 help. Either way, the unpinning brings the two women
intimately together.
19 grace and favour So Homilies, 469, R3 3.4.91, KL
1.1.229; favour = charm, attractiveness.
20 those sheets Perhaps the bed is already visible, and
she points to those sheets. But beds were less easy to
bring on stage than chairs: those probably means
‘those sheets you asked for’ (4.2.107).
21 All’s one It’s all the same, it doesn’t matter.
*faith F’s misreading, Father, is also found in RJ 4.4.21
(Q2), ‘good father (= faith) tis day’. See Texts, 169.
foolish i.e. in thinking about death (a half-apology) 23 you
talk i.e. how you talk! She speaks almost as if to a
child; Desdemona’s reference to her mother continues
this redefinition of their roles.
24 Barbary Cf. 1.1.110. The name suggests the Barbary
coast, home of the Moors. Did her mother have a maid
who was a Moor? Not necessarily: the name was in use
in England. Shakespeare’s lawyer, Francis Collins, had
a daughter called ‘Barbery’, named in his will, 1617.
25 proved turned out to be
mad lunatic; or ‘wild’ (Johnson)
26 willow F’s Willough was probably Crane’s spelling
(Texts, 66).
27 fortune fate
28 And … it Desdemona’s attendant, Emilia, also dies
singing the Willow Song (5.2.245ff.).

18 3his] F; and Q 19 favour] F; fauour in them Q 20 those] F; these Q 21 one.

Good faith,] one good faith: Q; one: good Father, F 22 before thee] Q;
before F 23 these] F; those Q 26 had] F; has Q willow] Q; Willough F
(throughout) 29–30 I … But it is all I can do not to (Ridley) 30 hang my
head let my head droop (in despondency) 31 dispatch hurry
32 night-gown dressing-gown
34–5 *This … man F prints ‘This … proper man’ as one
line, as if it is verse (which it may be). I follow Ridley’s
conjecture in moving the SP. For Desdemona to praise
Lodovico at this point seems out of character.
Shakespeare sometimes omitted SPs or added them
later (cf. his pages in STM), so misplaced SPs are
understandable: but see S. N. Garner, ‘Shakespeare’s
Desdemona’ (SSt, 9 [1976], 233ff.).
34 proper good-looking; admirable; complete 37–8 This
suggests a penitential pilgrimage: the chastest kiss
would have required a considerable mortification of the
flesh! But pilgrims normally went from Venice to
Palestine by sea (as in The Book of Margery Kempe, ch.
28).
38 nether lip Cf. 5.2.43, ‘Alas, why gnaw you so your
nether lip?’
39ff. For the song, see LN.
39 sycamore a species of fig tree. ‘It was not traditionally
associated with the forsaken in love (except perhaps by
the punning “sick-amour”); but it is in a grove of
sycamore that the love-sick Romeo is found wandering
by Benvolio (RJ 1.1.121)’ (Sanders).
40 a of. Steevens quoted a ballad printed in 1578 with the
refrain ‘Willow, willow, willow, sing all of green willow’.
willow symbol of grief for unrequited love or the loss of a
mate

29–52 I have … next.] F; not in Q 34 SP] Ard2; before A very F 39 SD] as Q2;
not in F 39ff.] song in italics F 39 sighing] Q2; singing Fc; sining Fu 45 Cf.
Dent, D618, ‘Constant dropping will wear the stone.’
47 Lay by these put these things aside
49 hie haste
51–2 Let … next a Freudian slip (unconsciously she wants
to shield Othello from blame)?
56 moe more
couch lie.
57–8 Mine … weeping ‘I find in MacGregor’s Folklore of
North-East Scotland that “An itching in the eyes
indicated tears and sorrow”’ (Hart).
58 Cf. Dent, H438, ‘It is neither here nor there.’
60 in conscience truly
62 gross kind disgusting manner

47, 49, 52, 57SD] this edn 49 hie] high F 52 who is’t] F; who’s Q 53 It’s] F; It is
Q 54–6] F; not in Q 57–8] F; Q lines night; / weeping? / 57 So] F; Now Q 58
Doth] F; does Q 59–62 DESDEMONA … question.] F; not in Q

63–6 *Why … dark See Texts, 34–5. I think that these lines
were cancelled by Shakespeare, who reused 63 as 67.
Emilia knows, after 4.2, that Desdemona’s chastity is
not a joking matter.
63 Cf. Matthew 16.26, ‘For what doth it profit a man if he
win all the whole world and lose his own soul?’
do … deed = have sexual intercourse (Partridge, citing
LLL 3.1.198–9, ‘one that will do the deed / Though
Argus were her eunuch and her guard’) for … world
resumes 4.2.165–6 (as ‘by this heavenly light’ picks up
‘by this light of heaven’, 4.2.152). She and Othello both
think each other, and ‘honesty’, worth the whole world.
64 by … light an oath not used elsewhere by Shakespeare
(but cf. 4.2.152, ‘by this light of heaven’); adapted from
‘by this light’ or ‘[God]’s light’
68 price price to be paid; or, prize (variant spelling) 72
joint-ring a finger-ring formed of two separable halves
to make one, like husband and wife. Often given by
lovers. She perhaps implies ‘for a mere promise of
marriage’.
measures of lawn quantities of fine linen 73 petty trivial;
inferior
exhibition gift, present
74 ud’s God’s. Cf. 5.2.69.
74–5 who … monarch Her ‘easy virtue’ is in character, but
her willingness to do anything for Iago less so. Is she
joking?

66 do’t] F; doe it Q i’th’] F; in the Q 67 Wouldst] F; Would Q deed] F; thing Q

68–9] as Q; F lines thing: / vice. / 68 world’s] F; world is Q 69 Good troth]
Q; Introth F 70 By my troth] Q; Introth F 71 done] F; done it Q 72 1nor] F;
or Q 73 petticoats] F; or Petticotes Q petty] F; such Q 74 all] F; not in Q
ud’s pity] Q; why F

76 venture risk
purgatory a reminder that the play is set in a Catholic
world 77 Beshrew me Cf. 3.4.151n.
82 Cf. 4.2.136.
83–4 A prose beginning for a verse speech is unusual, but
85–102 are more likely to be a cut in Q than an
afterthought in F: see Texts, 12.
83 a dozen a facetious understatement, cancelled out by
what follows. Cf. Falstaff, who ‘went to a bawdy-house
not above once in a quarter – of an hour’ (1H4 3.3.16–
17).
to th’ vantage over and above
84 store stock
played gambled; sported amorously
85–102 She resumes 3.4.104–7. Though she begins by
thinking of Othello, it is soon clear that she refers to
her own marriage. Such protests against ‘double
standards’ were not uncommon: cf. CE 2.1.10ff.
86 fall fall from virtue
slack neglect; cease to prosecute in a vigorous manner
(OED 1, 2) duties The Book of Common Prayer (‘Of
matrimony’) explained ‘the duty of husbands toward
 their wives, and wives toward their husbands’, but
sexual duties were treated less explicitly than in some
bibles. Cf. 1 Corinthians 7.2–3, ‘But because of
fornication let every man have his own wife … Let the
husband render his debt to the wife’. (This is the
Catholic ‘Rheims’ bible of 1582; for debt Protestant
bibles read ‘due benevolence’.) 87 perhaps alluding to
the myth of Danaë, who was impregnated by Zeus
disguised as a shower of gold. But treasure = seed was
not uncommon: cf. 1H4 2.3.45, ‘my treasures and my
rights of thee’ (Lady Hotspur to Hotspur); Son 20,
‘Mine be thy love, and thy love’s use their treasure’.
foreign another woman’s
laps lap could = pudendum (OED 2b) 88 peevish foolish;
mad; spiteful; perverse; irritable (a word that has
narrowed in meaning) 89 Throwing … us i.e.
restricting our freedom

76 for’t] F; for it Q 79 i’th’] F; i’the Q 83 to th’] F; to the Q 85–102 But … so.] F;

not in Q 89 upon] F; on Rowe3

90 or reduce what we had before (our ‘treasures’) out of

spite
91 we have galls i.e. we can feel resentment grace mercy
93 sense sensation, or sensual appetite (Malone); or,
emotional consciousness (OED 16) 96 change
exchange
sport recreation, fun
97 affection breed passion (or lust) produce 98 frailty
moral weakness
101 use us well Cf. 1.3.292, ‘use Desdemona well’, and
5.2.69n.
102 ills wicked or sinful acts
so i.e. so to do (Malone). Cf. MV 3.1.71–2, ‘The villainy you
teach me, I will execute’. This speech (Shylock’s ‘Hath
not a Jew eyes?’) is close to Emilia’s here.
103 usage treatment; behaviour
104 not to select (and copy) bad from what is bad, but to
improve by (knowing what is) bad
5.1
5.1.1*Here, stand So F (no comma Q). Or, ‘Here stand,’.
In Arden of Faversham killers also wait for their victim
outside a shop when it is ‘very late’ (‘stand close, and
take your fittest standing’, Revels, 3.39).
bulk stall, a framework projecting from the front of a shop
2 bare ready, drawn
home i.e. as far as it will go

103] as Q; F lines good night: / send, / God] Q; Heauen F usage] Q; vses F 5.1]
Actus. 5. Q; Actus Quintus. Scena Prima. F 1] as Q; F lines Barke, / come: /
bulk] Q; Barke F

3 at thy elbow Cf. Dent, EE5, ‘To be at one’s elbow’;

D243.1, ‘The devil is at one’s elbow.’
4 It … 2us Dent, M48, ‘To make or mar’.
5 resolution five syllables
7 stand position. Cf. JC 2.4.25, ‘I go to take my stand, / To
see him pass.’
8 devotion enthusiasm for; incongruous, suggesting
religious devotion (to commit murder) 9 reasons Cf.
4.2.245–6, 5.2.305–9. We do not hear the reasons:
Shakespeare sometimes states that there are reasons
without giving them (KL 4.3.51 ff., Tem 1.2.266). Scan
‘he’th giv’n’.
10 Forth Only now does he manage to draw his sword!
11 quat pimple, small boil, ‘which rubbing irritates’
(Ridley). Note that Iago, aged 28, thinks Roderigo
young: he may be a boy in his teens (cf. 1.3.341n.).
to the sense to the quick
12 angry could = inflamed (OED 8: ‘sores with often
touching waxe angry’) 14 gain profit. Q game = ‘gives
me the game’ (Ridley; so Kittredge).
Live should Roderigo live
16 bobbed diddled (more playful than ‘cheated’)
18 It … be metrically ‘amphibious’, because these words
could also complete 17 (Texts, 105–6)

4 on]F; of Q 7 stand] F; sword Q SD] as Capell; not in QF 8 deed] F; dead Q 9

hath] F; has Q 11 quat] F; gnat Q 12 angry. Now,] F; angry now: Q 14 gain]
F; game Q 16 Of] F; For Q

19 daily beauty i.e. an ever-present attractiveness. Does

this suggest searing self-contempt (so Rosenberg, 174)
on the part of Iago? Or is he describing the
conventional view of Cassio’s beautiful manners (cf.
2.1.98ff.) compared with his own bluntness (2.1.164ff.)?
21 unfold expose. Scan ‘May ’nfold me to’m’ (Texts, 121).
25 coat undercoat (of proof armour)
26 make proof test (the proof of)
2SD Iago wounds him in the leg, having heard that his coat

protects his upper body (Malone).

27 maimed For Q maind, cf. 1.3.100n.
27.1 Othello usually enters ‘above’. Does he arrive by
chance, or did Iago tell him that Cassio would be killed
here?

19 hath] F; has Q 21 much] F; not in Q 22 Be’t] Q; But F hear] Q; heard F 23

SD] Rowe subst. (He runs at Cassio, and wounds him.); not in QF 24 mine]
F; my Q 25 know’st] F; think’st Q 26 1SD] this edn; not in QF 2SD] Theobald
subst. (Fight. Iago cuts Cassio behind in the Leg, and Exit.); not in QF 27ff.
murder] Q; murther F throughout scene 27] as Q; F lines euer: / murther. /
maimed] F; maind Q Help] F; light Q 27.1] QF; Enter Othello, above at a
Window / Rowe 29 O … am Cf. Romans 7.24, ‘O wretched man that I am’.
It … so Q Harke implies that Othello can hear but not see.
He does not know about Roderigo, cannot see him, and
thinks Cassio speaks. Even = just.
31 brave worthy, good; courageous
32 sense Cf. 4.3.93n.
friend’s Having called himself ‘thy friend’ (3.3.145) to get
information from Iago, while thinking of him as ‘This …
creature’ (3.3.246), he now thinks Iago a friend.
33 Minion hussy (contemptuously, addressing the absent
Desdemona); more usually ‘darling’ (endearingly) 34
unblest unholy (i.e. she is damned)
hies makes haste, hurries nearer
35 Forth out
blotted obliterated
36 blood Cf. 3.3.454 (‘O blood, blood, blood!’), 4.1.201ff.,
5.2.3. Is it Shakespeare or Othello who cannot decide
how she should be killed?
spotted stained
37 passage i.e. people passing
38 mischance mishap
direful dreadful, terrible

29 It is] F; Harke tis Q 34 unblest fate hies] F (highes); fate hies apace Q 35
Forth] Q; For F 37] as Q; F lines passage?/Murther. / 38 voice] F; cry Q

42 heavy overcast, dark

44 come in to approach(?); or, Cassio and Roderigo
staggered into the bulk (1) and he fears to follow. Cf.
59.
45 This could be two questions.
47 in his shirt in his night attire; without his outer
garments (OED 2b) 48 noise Q noise could be a
misreading of voice, leading to a ‘common error’ in F:
‘whose noise is this, that cries’ sounds odd. Cf. 5.2.85
t.n.
cries on exclaims against
50 heaven’s F heauen could be the old genitive, as in KJ
4.1.77, ‘For heauen sake’, or Chaucer, Wife of Bath’s
Tale, 325, ‘Jesus, hevene king’, or -s dropped before s,
as in MV 4.1.379, Q, ‘for Godsake’. Cf. Barnavelt (a
Crane manuscript; MSR 1383), ‘for heaven-sake’.

42 groan. It is a] grones, it is a Q; groane. ’Tis F 44 in to] Capell; into QF 45.1]

as Q; Enter Iago. F 47 light] F; lights Q 49 We] F; I Q Did] Q; Do F 50
heaven’s] Q; heauen F

52 fellow They do not remember his name (he is a social

inferior), but he remembers theirs (67, 93).
53 grievously piteously, wretchedly
54 spoiled destroyed. Cf. CE 5.1.37.
56 O me A ‘genteel’ exclamation: cf. RJ 1.1.173.
58 make i.e. get
59 What … there? What kind of men are you there? This
seems to anticipate 65, but might also be printed
‘What, are you there?’ (addressing supposed villains).
Come in Iago has entered the bulk (1) to help Cassio.
62 1O … dog! Q’s ‘o, o, o’ is a signal to the actor to groan
or make whatever noise is appropriate; more common
in F than in Q texts. See Honigmann, ‘Stage direction’.
64 Iago enjoys uproar: cf. 1.1.66ff., 2.3.153.

56] as Q; F lines Lieutenant! / this? / me,] F (mee,); my Q 57 that] F; the Q 60

here] Q; there F 61 them] F; em Q murderous] Q; murd’rous F SD] as Q2,
Rowe; not in QF 62 dog!] as F; dog, – o, o, o. Q 63] as Q; F lines darke? /
Theeues? / men i’th’] F; him i’ the Q these] F; those Q

65 Lodovico and Gratiano have kept their distance, and

now step forward. of on the side of. The idea is familiar
 (Joshua 5.13, ‘Art thou on our side, or on our
adversaries’?’) but the phrasing is odd.
66 prove find or prove (us to be)
praise appraise, value. Cf. Dent, P614.2, ‘Prove (assay, try)
ere you purpose (… praise)’; i.e. as you prove our value,
so esteem us.
69 I … mercy I beg your pardon (you is indirect object): a
‘genteel’ phrase.
71 brother From Cinthio: discovering the wounded Cassio,
Iago grieved ‘as if he had been his own brother’ (cf.),
the words of the narrator. Shakespeare gives the word
to Iago, who wants to impress the Venetians.
72 heaven forbid Cf. 2.3.257n.
73 Light Iago has put down his own light, to bind Cassio’s
wounds.
75 Who … cried Iago has a dangerous tendency to mock
others by echoing them: cf. 1.1.116, 2.1.249, 3.3.104ff.,
306, 443.
Cassio three syllables, for emphasis. Two in 76.

71 is’t] F; is it Q 76 My] F; O my Q O] F; not in Q

77 notable known, conspicuous

strumpet Cf. R3 3.4.71, 74, where another murderer’s
moral outrage at a strumpet is equally hypocritical.
77–8may … be have you any idea who they are 78
mangled hacked; wounded
80–1 Even with elision (I’m, I’ve) this would be an irregular
verse line.
82 garter a band, worn as a sash or belt
85 trash Cf. 2.1.301, 3.3.160.
87 Cassio three syllables
89 countryman fellow countryman
93 I … pardon a ‘genteel’ turn of phrase, again! A variant
of ‘I cry you mercy’ (69n., 4.2.90).
94 accidents unforeseen happenings

78 have thus] F; thus haue Q 80–3] divided as F 82–3] F; not in Q 86 be] F;

beare Q party … injury] F; part in this Q 87 Come, come] F; not in Q 90 O
heaven] Q; Yes, ’tis F 93 you] Q; your F

95 neglected ignored, paid no attention to

96 chair i.e. a seat (or litter?) to carry Cassio to the
surgeon 98 well said Cf. 4.1.115n.
the chair F the presupposes 82–3, Q a doesn’t (Q omits
82–3). Revision?
99 man Emend to men?
100 For as for
101 Save … labour don’t trouble yourself, i.e leave him
alone 102 malice ill-will
104 O … air Cf. Tilley, A93, ‘Fresh air is ill for the diseased
or wounded man.’
106 gastness dread, terror; ghastliness
107 Nay … anon i.e. if you stare (it is a sign of guilt) we’ll
soon hear more (we’ll make you confess). Q stirre (=
try to get away) would imply much the same. Cf.
5.2.184, ‘Nay, stare not’.

98] as Q; F lines ’tis he / Chaire. / He, he] F; He Q SD] Capell subst.; not in QF
the] F; a Q 100 SD] Johnson; not in QF 102 between] F; betwixt Q 104 out]
Q; not in F 105 gentlemen] F; Gentlewoman Q 106 gastness] F; ieastures Q
107 if] F; an Q stare] F; stirre Q hear] F; haue Q

109–10nay … use i.e. guilt will betray itself, even if we

were all struck dumb (out of use = not used). Dent,
M1315, ‘Murder will out.’
114 dead Cf. 5.2.326.
115 She seems to think the two men equally ‘good’. This
brings out her failure to look below the surface.
116 This … whoring Cf. R3 2.1.135, ‘This is the fruits of
rashness’, and 77n.
117 know learn
120 charge order
121–3 *sometimes printed as irregular verse lines, but can
be spoken as verse if I am is slurred as I’m, and heavy
stress on you: see Texts, 123
122 honest i.e. sexually honest. In a more general sense
she is indeed more honest than Emilia, who lied about
the handkerchief (3.4.24).
123 Foh signifies disgust, fie disapproval. Cf. Ham 2.2.587,
‘Fie upon’t, foh!’

109–10] as F; Q lines guiltinesse / vse. / 110 SD] Q (Enter Em.) opp. vse; not in
F ’Las, what’s] Q; Alas, what is F 111 What’s] Q; What is F 112 hath] F; has
Q 114 dead] Q; quite dead F 116 fruits] F; fruite Q Prithee] F; pray Q 121 O
fie] F; Fie, fie Q 121–3] this edn; QF lines honest, / me. / thee. / 123 Foh, fie]
Q (fough); Fie F

124 Kind almost = good (but more ingratiating)

dressed bandaged
125 Cf. Dent, T49, ‘To tell another tale’; tell’s = tell us.
127 and lady Should Iago register that he thinks the lady
already dead, perhaps by the slightest hesitation after
lord?
128–9This … quite He fails to realize that the night may
make and ‘fordo’ him.
129 makes me i.e. brings me success
fordoes me quite ruins, undoes me completely (quite =
completely, OED 1). He repeats 5.1.4.
5.2
5.2 For the staging, see LN. For 5.2.1–20.
1 cause could = ground for action; the case of one party in
a law suit; a matter before a court for decision. How
characteristic of Othello that he does not define the
cause (= chastity? purity? the good of the world in
general?)! See J. Money, in SS, 6 (1953), 94–105.
my soul Addressing one’s soul is common in the Bible
(Genesis 49.6, Psalms 16.2, etc.) and in classical
literature. For the biblical imagery of this speech, see J.
E. Hankins, Shakespeare’s Derived Imagery (1953);
also J. Tobin, in N and Q, NS 24 (1977), 112; and in SS,
31 (1978), 33–43.
2 stars any celestial bodies, including the chaste moon
(MND 2.1.162). In classical myth reluctant ladies
pursued by Zeus were changed into stars.
4 Cf. Dent, S591, ‘As white as (the driven) snow’. Snow,
though, was connected with chastity (Money, as in In.,
citing Cym 2.5.13, ‘As chaste as unsunn’d snow’), so
contradicts the charge of Desdemona’s unchastity.
Shakespeare also reanimates the cliché by not writing
‘that skin of hers whiter than snow’.

124] as Q; F lines Gentlemen: / drest. / 127 hath] F; has Q 128 afore] F; I pray
Q 129 makes] F; markes Q quite] Q; F (quight) 5.2] Scoena Secunda. F; not
in Q 0.1–2] Enter Othello with a light. Q; Enter Othello, and Desdemona in
her bed. F

5 monumental i.e. as used for monuments; here referring

to funeral monuments (where effigies often lie on their
backs, heads resting on a stone ‘pillow’, hands pressed
together in prayer, as if awaiting the resurrection. A
hint for staging? The ‘church’ tableau is also suggested
by Othello’s candle).
alabaster often spelt alablaster c. 1600 (= QF). Cf. Luc
419, ‘her alablaster skin’, Dent, A95.2, ‘As white as
alabaster’.
6 betray prove false to; cheat (OED 2, 3)
more men His motives are as confused as Iago’s. Does he
really care what happens to more men?
7 and … light i.e. extinguish her life. Cf. Sidney’s Arcadia
(1593 edn, fos 231b, 237, of killing a princess), ‘so
soone may the fayrest light in the world be put out’,
‘become not the putters out of the worlds light’ (from
Steevens); C. A., A Fig for Fortune (1596), B3b, ‘Out
with thy candle [ = life], let it burne no more’, Mac
5.5.23, ‘Out, out, brief candle!’ A commonplace.
8 flaming minister Cf. Psalms 104.4, ‘God maketh his
angels spirits: and his ministers a flaming fire’,
Hebrews 1.7; minister = servant.
10 repent me (reflexive verb) regret it, change my mind
But once but if I once
11 thou most skilful instance (or specimen, image, design,
model) of nature excelling herself. Cf. 2.1.63–5, ‘One
that excels…’.
12 Promethean ‘Shakespeare seems to be combining two
separate Greek myths about Prometheus, one in which
Prometheus gave fire to human-kind and one in which
he was the creator of human-kind’ (Folger).
13 relume relight (OED, first here, from late Lat.
reluminare) 14 vital living
15 needs necessarily, inevitably
16 O Q A could = Ah.
balmy deliciously fragrant; cf. 20, ‘So sweet’. Q’s SD, ‘He
kisses her’, may refer to three kisses but, as the sense
of smell is so important to him, I think he smells at 17,
again at 19, here finishing with a kiss, as is also
suggested by the placing of Q’s SD. Q2 and later
editors moved the SD, without authority.
5 alabaster] QF (Alablaster) 7 then put] QF; then – put Hanmer 10 thy light] F;
thine Q 11 cunning’st] F; cunning Q 13] as Q; F lines re-Lume. / Rose, /
relume] F; returne Q the] Q; thy F 15 needs must] F; must needes Q thee]
F; it Q 16 O] F; A Q dost] F; doth Q

17 Justice … sword The sword and scales were emblems

of Justice (traditionally female). The scales weighed the
evidence (not here!), the sword punished.
17, 19 Once Either one or once looks like a minim error,
common in Shakespeare generally (Texts, 82). Each is
possible; I prefer once more since he refers, initially, to
smelling, not kissing. But Shakespeare could have
revised this speech.
20 fatal destructive; fateful
21 cruel tears ‘meaning, I think, that the tears are no sign
of faltering purpose’ (Ridley) 21–2This … love Cf.
Proverbs 3.12, ‘For whom the Lord loveth, him he
chasteneth’, Hebrews 12.6.
23 Ay Note this word in this scene: at first quietly
menacing (here, 33, 41, 70), then still resolute (139,
143), finally exhausted (295). Here it could be the
pronoun: ‘(Yes, it is indeed) I, Desdemona.’
26 bethink yourself call to mind crime sin
27 grace (the source of grace, i.e.) God. So AW 1.3.220.
28 Solicit pray for pardon

17] Iustice her selfe to breake her sword once more, Q; Iustice to breake her
Sword. One more, one more: F 19 Once] Q; One F that’s] F; this Q SD] Q
(opp. 19, 20); not in F SD smells, then] this edn; not in QF 22 where it doth]
F; when it does Q She wakes] QF; as SD (Cam anon.) 23 Ay] QF (I) 25
Desdemon] F; Desdemona Q 29] as Q; F lines Lord, / that? / Alack] F; Alas Q

30 by i.e. aside
31–2 If he killed her unpreparèd spirit he would ‘kill’ her
soul by sending it to hell (cf. Ham 3.3.73–95). Cf.
Matthew 10.28, ‘fear ye not them which kill the body,
but are not able to kill the soul … fear him which is able
to destroy both body and soul in hell’.
32 heaven forfend Cf. 182. Already a set phrase (as in
1H6 5.4.65); forfend = forbid.
33–4Then … me! Cf. ‘Lord have mercy upon us!’, a
frequent response in the Book of Common Prayer. Cf.
57.
34 Amen a liturgical response, as at 57
36 Hum! probably our ‘hmm!’, a threatening sound
38 Why … not Cf. Ovid, Heroides, 1.71 ‘quid timeam,
ignoro’ (what – or how, why – I am to fear I know not).
40 They … you ‘An allusion to the sin of loving a human
being more than God’ (Sanders). Yet she does not say
she loves him more than God. Did Shakespeare write
bore, misread bere? Then Othello would mean ‘you die
because you have stopped loving me’.
42 That death’s i.e. that killing is

32 heaven] Q; Heauens F 33–4 Then … me] as Cam3; one line QF 35 so] Q; not
in F 36 Hum] Q; F (Humh) 37 you’re] F; you are Q 38] as Q; F lines so. /
not, / 41 Ay] F (I); not in Q

43 Cf. R3 4.2.27, ‘The King is angry, see, he gnaws his lip.’

Burbage played both Richard and Othello.
44 bloody portending bloodshed
frame body
45 portents omens
46 They … me i.e. they are not portents for me.
Peace … still Cf. Mark 4.39, ‘he arose, and rebuked the
wind, and said unto the sea, Peace, and be still’.
47 *I will. So: ‘I will so’ (as in most editions) is odd. ‘Be
still’ implies that she is agitated: she becomes still (‘I
will’), then adds ‘So’ = So, I have done as you asked.
Cf. 5.1.82, ‘Lend me a garter. So.’
48 strong accusing stress on thou
50 Sweet soul usually an expression of tenderness (MV
5.1.49, H5 4.6.17) 51 Thou art scan ‘Thou’rt’
52 *I? could be ‘Ay,’, but a strange reply either way; but not
yet to die is a cry, an appeal, not a statement presently
immediately 53 confess your sin unreservedly, without
holding anything back. He seems to mean ‘confess to
heaven and to me’.
54 article item (in the accusation)
55 choke smother, silence
strong grievous; irresistible (OED 11, 16)
conception notion. But could = embryo, offspring: this
submerged image makes Othello the mother who
groans and wants to remove an unwanted child (the
notion of her adultery). For similar images, cf. 1.3.402–
3, 2.1.127–8.

45 2I hope] F; not in Q 47 will. So:] this edn; will, so, Q; will so: F 47–52] Q lines
gaue thee, / Cassio. / soule, / him. / periury, / death-bed. / die. / presently: /;
F lines Handkerchiefe / Cassio. / man, / him. / Periury, / 48 gavest] Q; gau’st
F 52 I? – but] this edn; I, but QF die!] this edn; die. QF Yes] Q; not in F 55
conception] F; conceit Q

57 Cf. 33–4n., and Psalms 6.2, 9.13, 27.7.

59 Offend wrong, sin against
60 warranty authorization
61 might am allowed to
token i.e. love token
63 stone turn to stone, make hard like stone (OED 2, first
here). Repeating 4.1.179–80.
my Johnson defended Q thy: thou dost harden thy heart,
leaving this life ‘in the state of the murdered without
preparation for death, when I intended that thy
punishment should have been a sacrifice atoning for
thy crime’.
65 Cf. JC 2.1.166.
68 confess declare, testify to
*the truth a ‘common error’ (Texts, 95)? That is, F
followed Q. At 126 Q again misprints a (for the) truth.
69 That … thee As F normally softens or omits profanity,
and Q has lost something leading up to ‘How,
vnlawfully?’, I retain both Q vds death and F vs’d thee,
even though vds and vsd consist of the same three
letters (which suggests transposition in Q or F). To
retain Q profanity and eke out obvious Q omissions
from F is normal procedure, and here yields regular
metre.
used had sexual intercourse with (OED 10b). Cf. 3.3.277;
Tim 4.3.84, ‘Be a whore still. They love thee not that
use thee’, Son 20.14.

57 Then Lord] Q; O Heauen F 58–9] as F; Q lines too: / Cassio, / 62 in’s] F; in

his Q 63 my] F; thy Q 64 makest] Q; makes F 65ff. murder] Q; Murther F
throughout scene 68 Let] F; And let Q the] this edn; a QF 69 hath] F; has Q
ud’s death! – used thee] Alexander; vds death. Q; vs’d thee. F

70 He will not i.e. surely he will not.

71 mouth is stopped Cf. 2.3.300.
72 ta’en order taken measures
interprets i.e. guesses the worst
73 Had … lives Cf. Dent, H30, ‘As many as there are hairs
on the head’; Psalms 40.15, ‘my sins … are more in
number than the hairs of my head’.
74 had stomach would have had appetite (to consume
them all). Cf. 3.3.462–3.
75 betrayed treacherously destroyed by his enemies;
Othello thinks ‘revealed (as her lover)’ (OED 6) 76 Out
exclamation of abhorrence or reproach
weep’st … him He misinterprets again.
77 banish send or drive away
78 Down The stage image (a man forcing a woman down
on a bed) is suggestive. Note that his three speeches in
Q make up a pentameter: ‘Downe strumpet. – Nay, an
you striue. – It is too late.’
80 strive struggle, resist

71–2] this edn; QF lines stop’d, / for’t. / 72–4] this edn; Q lines dead? / liues, /
all. /; F lines dead? / Reuenge / all. / 72 O … interprets] F; My feare
interprets then Q 74 them] F; ’em Q 76 Out] F; O Q weep’st] F; weepest Q
80 if] F; an Q

81 But only
Being … pause perhaps = (while it is) being done, there
must be (room for) no pause (stopping or hesitation) 82
But … prayer a common request: cf. Marlowe,
Massacre, 301, ‘O let me pray before I dye’. Othello’s
disregard of it reflects on his Christianity. I assume that
she cries ‘O Lord …’ before he begins to smother her: it
is more a prayer than a shriek.
83 O … 3Lord! Granville-Barker defended Q’s line, omitted
by some editors. ‘Imagine it: Desdemona’s agonised cry
to God, and as the sharp sound of it is slowly stifled,
Emilia’s voice at the door rising through it, using the
same words in another sense. A macabre duet’ (Othello
[1945]).
SD See LN.
85 In some productions Emilia knocks on the door, with an
effect like that of the ‘knocking at the gate in Macbeth’
(see De Quincey’s famous essay).
88 So, so Cf. 4.1.123. Some actors and critics think Othello
now stabs Desdemona (see M. Ware, in ES, 45 [1964],
177–80; Furness, 302ff.; Hankey, 319): I think it
unlikely.
90 By and by soon. Common in Shakespeare and the Bible.

81 OTHELLO Being … pause] F; not in Q 82 It is] F; Tis Q 83 O … 3Lord] Q; not in

F SD] he stifles her. Q; Smothers her. F (QF place SD after too late 82) 84
SD] Emillia calls within. Q; Aemilia at the doore. F 84] as Q; F lines hoa? /
Lord. / 85 noise] F; voyce Q 86 that am] Q, Fc; am that Fu 88 SD] F; not in
Q 89 SD] Malone; not in QF I’d] Q; I would F 90] this edn; Yes, tis Emillia,
by and by: shee’s dead: Q; Yes: ’Tis Aemilia: by and by. Shee’s dead. F

91 like likely
92 high loud. The brawl outside was audible indoors
(which explains the arrival of Lodovico and Gratiano in
5.1).
93 Still … grave Dent, D133.1, ‘As dumb (silent, still) as
death (the grave)’.
93, 95 she Emilia
94 she Desdemona
95 my wife Cf. 2.3.378n., 4.2.104.
97 insupportable unendurable. Could be an exclamation
on its own (= O insupportable loss!) or an adjective
qualifying hour. Cf. 1.3.259n. and JC 4.3.151, ‘O
insupportable and touching loss!’
heavy sorrowful
98–100 See LN.
99 globe earth
100 yawn gape (i.e. chasms should open in response to the
changed appearance of sun and moon). Hart quoted
 Pliny, 2.80, ‘Of the Gaping Chinks of the Earth’: ‘They
[earthquakes] fortune also to be when the Sun and
Moon are eclipsed.’
alteration this change (brought about by Desdemona’s
death). A limp last word: could it be an error?
103 curtains bed curtains
104 What’s … now? What do you want now?

92 high] F; here Q moving?] F; mouing, Q 94 best to do?] F; the best Q 96 what

… have] F; my wife; I ha Q 97 insupportable,] this edn; insupportable: Q;
insupportable! F 99 th’] F; the Q 100] Should Q; Did F SD] not in QF 101
That] F; not in Q O] F; not in Q 104.1] as Theobald; not in QF 104.2] as F;
opp. 103 Q

106 What? now? I prefer F to Q: it better conveys his

sense of shock.
107 But now just now, only this moment (OED but 6b)
108 very either ‘solely’ (adverb), or ‘indeed’ (intensive)
(Elliott, 104) error mistake; wandering off course (Lat.
erro, I wander)
109 She Luna, the moon, is feminine in Latin. Cf. 17n.
more nearer double comparative, common in Shakespeare
110 makes men mad The word lunacy shows how long
and firmly men have believed in a connection between
the moon and madness (Ridley).
111 Venetian (four syllables)
113 Not … killed? more disorientated than ‘Cassio not
killed!’
114–15 and … harsh and (the sweet music of) revenge
grows harsh
115 falsely wrongly, mistakenly. She seems to reply to 114.
See also 325–6n., and Warning for Fair Women (1599),
Fla, ‘What sound was that? it was not he that spake’ (a
‘dead’ person speaks).
murdered disyllabic, which gives a nine-syllable line. The
verse can be divided differently but, however we
rearrange it, always breaks down. The broken lines
highlight the speakers’ tension.
116 cry utterance (not necessarily loud). Desdemona is
concealed behind the bed curtains.

106 What? now?] F; What, now? Q 109 nearer] F; neere the Q 110 hath] F; has
Q 113–15] this edn; QF lines tune, / harsh. / murdered. / 116 O lord] Q; Alas
F

118 Out and alas Cf. 76n. Usually ‘out alas’ (Tit 2.3.258,
MW 4.5.63, WT 4.4.110); ‘Out and’ may be for
emphasis.
121–2 Dividing as here, ‘done / This deed’, is unusual, but
gives two consecutive pentameters instead of short
lines. A slight pause after done mirrors Emilia’s
consternation. See Texts, 108.
124 how … be how should she come to be
127–8 Perhaps he thinks also of 58ff., though primarily of
122–3.
130 folly wickedness; unchastity (OED 2, 3). Cf.
Deuteronomy 22.21, ‘She hath wrought folly in Israel,
to play the whore in her father’s house.’
131 Thou Cf. you 129. Her indignation carries her away.
Belie = slander.

118 that was] F; it is Q SD] Cam2 subst.; not in QF 121 hath] F; has Q 121–2 O
… deed?] as Capell; one line QF 123 SD] Q; not in F 125 heard] Q; heare F
126 the truth] F; a truth Q 127 burning] QF; burne in Q3 128–9 O … devil]
as Q; prose F
132 false as water Cf. Dent, W86.1, ‘As unstable (false) as
water’ (from Genesis 49.4).
rash as fire Cf. Dent, F246.1, ‘As hasty as fire’. Scan ‘wat’r
/ Thou’rt’ (Abbott, 464, 465).
133 heavenly true Cf. Dent, G173, ‘As false as God is true’.
True = true to you; virtuous.
134 top Cf. 1.1.88n.
else i.e. if you don’t believe me (OED 4c)
135 Cf. Psalms 86.13, ‘thou hast delivered my soul from the
nethermost hell’.
137 extremity utmost penalty; extreme rigour or measure
(OED 3b, 6, 9) 138, 142, 145 My husband? ‘Emilia’s
repeated astonishment at Iago’s complicity is the
argument in favour of her not having suspected him to
be the “eternal villain” [of 4.2.132]’ (Hart). Hart,
however, interpreted QF ‘?’ as ‘!’ in all three lines. If we
retain ‘?’, she could speak quietly at first, adjusting to
an explanation that she had already suspected (a
different kind of surprise).
138–9 Cf. 121–2: an unusual line division again gives
‘regular’ metre (Texts, 120).
140 such another (OED 1c) another of the same sort (but
made of chrysolite) 141 Cf. Faerie Queene, 1.7.33
(Arthur’s shield), ‘But all of Diamond perfect pure and
cleene / It framed was, one massy entire mould.’
entire complete, perfect, pure
chrysolite See LN.
142 sold exchanged. Cf. 2H6 3.1.92, ‘Or sell my title for a
glorious grave’.

132–3 Thou … true] as F; Q lines fire, / true. / 132 art] F; as Q 134 top] QF; tup
Pope2 138–9 That … wedlock] this edn; one line QF 139 Had] as F; nay, had
Q
143 on of; tell on = play the informer (OED 16) 144 slime
suggests sexual slime: filthy (= obscene) deeds are
sexual here (cf. 4.2.72ff., 4.3.63ff.) 146 iterance
repetition. Shakespeare’s coinage; Q iteration was
common.
146 woman deliberately discourteous, as often in the Bible
(John 2.4, ‘Jesus sayth unto her, Woman, what have I to
do with thee?’) 147 made mocks with usually at or of:
‘made a mock(ery) of’
150 friend Cf. 3.3.145, 5.1.32n.
151 pernicious destructive; evil
152 grain particle. A slow death is the worst: cf. 4.1.175,
‘nine years a-killing’.
lies … heart lies down to his very heart, i.e. he’s an out-
and-out liar. More emphatic than the proverbial ‘To lie
in one’s throat’ (Dent, T268).
153 filthy a ‘racist’ jibe, provoked by his filthy 145
156 worthy worthy of. She returns to 127ff., their dispute
about the angel and devil.
157 you were best it would be best for you

143 on her] F; not in Q 145–6 What … husband] one line Q; F lines Woman? /
Husband. / 146 iterance, woman?] F subst.; iteration? woman, Q 147–50] F;
not in Q 147] F lines Mistris, / loue: /; one line Q2 154 Ha!] QF (Ha?) 158–
9Thou … hurt i.e. she can endure more than he can inflict (harm = hurt).
Cf. H8 3.2.387ff., ‘able … To endure more miseries … Than my weak-
hearted enemies dare offer’.
159 gull dupe
dolt block-head, i.e. slow thinker
160 dirt resuming filthy (153), a jibe that went home. OED
1 glosses dirt as ‘ordure = excrement’, so this is
another racist jibe at Othello’s colour.
161 care not for don’t fear
make thee known expose you
164 How now could be a question or interjection (OED
how 4: modern equivalent ‘What?’ or ‘What!’) 166 on
your neck to your charge
173 apt likely

158 that] F; the Q 160 SD] not in QF 161 known] F; know Q 162 ho] F (hoa); O
Q 163 hath] F; has Q 163.1] F; Enter Montano, Gratiano, Iago, and others.
Q 166 murders] F (Murthers); murder Q 167 SP] as F; All Q 170 thou’rt] F;
thou art Q 172] as Q; F lines thought, / more / 174] as Q; F lines him, /
false? /

176 odious, damned either ‘o-di-ous damn’d’, or ‘od-yus

dam-nèd’
177 Upon my soul by the salvation of my soul (more
deeply felt than the later ‘’pon my soul’) wicked evil,
depraved, malicious (a richer word than today)
179 charm control. Cf. TS 4.2.58, 2H6 4.1.64.
180 bound duty-bound; compelled, obliged (OED 7)
183 set … on incited
184 masters Cf. 2.3.116n.
185 a strange truth Cf. MND 5.1.2, MM 5.1.44.
187 Villainy a richer word than now, ranging from
boorishness to discourtesy to extreme wickedness
(OED 1, 6) 188 think upon remember, call to mind
(OED 5c).
smell suspect, detect

178] as Q; F lines Cassio? / Cassio? / 179] as Q; F lines Mistris? / tongue. / 180]

as Q; F lines Tongue; / speake, / 181–90] F; not in Q 181 murdered] F
(murthered) 182 heavens] F (Heauens,) 184] Q2; F lines Masters, / indeede.
/ 188 think I smell’t, O] this edn; thinke: I smel’t: O F
193 Cf. Ephesians 5.24, ‘as the Church is subject unto
Christ, likewise the wives to their own husbands in all
things’.
195 a prolonged roar, not three separate sounds. Cf.
5.1.62n. A ‘Herculean’ feature: ‘so did he with his
roarings smite the stars’ (Seneca, Hercules Oetaeus,
801ff.).
196 Nay used as an introductory word, without any
negation (OED 1d); almost = yes 198 lift up eye Cf.
Luke 6.20 and Psalms 121.1, ‘I will lift up mine eyes
unto the hills’; perhaps implying that she usually kept
her eyes modestly down.
199 uncle i.e. Desdemona’s uncle, presumably Brabantio’s
brother: cf. 1.1.173.
200 these hands He speaks as if his hands, not he, killed
Desdemona. Cf. Macbeth’s ‘detached’ hands, 2.2.56,
‘What hands are here? Hah! they pluck out mine eyes.’
201 shows appears
grim merciless, cruel
203 mortal fatal
pure (intensive: OED 3b) utter
204 Shore sheared. Cf. MND 5.1.340, ‘you have shore /
With shears his thread’.
thread i.e. thread of life, ‘which it was the prerogative of
the Fate Atropos to sever with her shears’ (Ridley) 205
turn act

191] as Q; F lines mad? / home. / 195 SD] Q; not in F 201 horrible] F; terrible Q
202] as Q; F lines Desdemon: / dead, / Desdemon] F; Desdemona Q 204 in
twain] F; atwane Q

206 better angel Cf. the Good and Bad Angel in Marlowe,
Doctor Faustus, and Son 144, ‘Tempteth my better
angel from my side’.
207 reprobance a coinage: the state of being a reprobate,
a sinner rejected by God. With QF reprobation–
Reprobance, cf. QF iteration–itterance (146) and Texts,
86.
208 pitiful Cf. 4.1.192–3.
209 act of shame Cf. 2.1.225, ‘the act of sport’.
211 gratify reward
works acts, deeds (OED 1), i.e. caresses
212 recognizance token
214 antique olden, belonging to former times; or, old-
fashioned (OED 3, first in 1647). Perhaps stressed on
first syllable.
215 This contradicts 3.4.57ff. Some think that he wanted to
frighten Desdemona in 3.4, but the contradiction may
be an oversight.
217–18 These lines may be revised in F: see Texts, 18.
217 ’Twill out i.e. the facts will come out. But is there a
hint that Emilia has bottled up a guilty secret, which
now bursts forth? Cf. Look About You (1600), D4a,
‘Twill out, twill out, my selfe my selfe can ease’.
218 1as … north as freely as the north wind speaks (or
blows), Cf. 2.1.5, ‘the wind hath spoke aloud’, TC
1.3.253, ‘Speak frankly as the wind’.
220 shame because she defies her husband?

207 reprobance] F; reprobation Q 212 that] F; the Q 216 1God] Q; Heauen F

2God] Q; Powres F Zounds] Q; Come F 217–18] F; ’Twill out, ’twill: I hold
my peace sir, no, / I’le be in speaking, liberall as the ayre, Q 219 them] F;
em Q

222 Your sword upon use your sword against

223 dull obtuse, stupid
224 fortune chance
225 solemn imposing
226 belonged was appropriate
231 coxcomb (a cap worn by a professional fool, hence)
fool, simpleton
232 Do have to do (OED 40), i.e. what business has he to
have so good a wife?
SD runs at either ‘rushes at’, or ‘runs his sword at, strikes
at’ (OED 5, 14, 48). Apart from entrances and exits, this
is the only centred SD in Q, and it is unusually specific.
Note the sequence: Othello attacks, Iago dodges away
and, doing so, stabs Emilia.
stones thunderbolts or ‘thunder-stones’ (JC 1.3.49), to
punish offenders; cf. Cym 5.5.240. ‘Has not heaven one
supernumerary bolt, to hurl directly at … this atrocious
villain? Must all … of its arsenal be reserved for …
ordinary thunder?’ (Malone).
233 Precious (intensive) egregious

222 SD] as Rowe (Iago offers to stab his wife); not in QF 223] as Q; F lines
Moore, / of / of] F; on Q 227 ’t] F; it Q 228 give] F; gaue Q 232 wife] F;
woman Q SD] The Moore runnes at Iago. Iago kils his wife. Q; not in F 233]
as Q; F lines Thunder? / Villaine. / Precious] QF; pernitious Q2 234] as Q; F
lines falles: / Wife. / hath] F; has Q

237 notorious obvious, evident (OED 3, first in 1608)

238 recovered obtained, got hold of (OED 6); not ‘taken
back from’
239 without from the outside
241 damned damnable, accursed. Probably ‘damnèd’,
although ‘damn’d’ and ‘I’m’ would give a pentameter.
neither ‘used to strengthen a preceding negative: = either’
(OED 3). He seems to voice an unspoken train of
thought: I am a ‘dull Moor’, I have failed to kill Iago, I
am a failure – and ‘I am not valiant either’. He is no
 longer the ‘valiant Othello’ of 1.3.48–9. A process of
self-assessment has begun.
242 whipster an insignificant person; one who wields a
whip. This is not to disparage Montano: he means
‘every whip can defeat my sword’.
gets = takes
sword The Moors in other plays carry a scimitar: not
Othello.
243 honour esteem (from others), an honourable
reputation
honesty integrity
244 Let … all more emphatic than ‘Let it all go.’ But all
may be an adverb = entirely.
bode forebode; mean
245 Hark … me alluding to the belief that the souls of the
dead linger near the body for a while swan Cf. Dent,
S1028, ‘Like a swan, he sings before his death’, MV
3.2.44, KJ 5.7.21.

235 SD] Q; not in F 237 you this] F; your Q 238 here] Q; not in F 241 SD] Exit
Mont. and Gratiano. Q; Exit. F 244–6 What … 3willow] F; not in Q 246 SD]
as Dyce; not in QF Willow] F (Willough) 249 Cf. Dent, S725, ‘To speak as
one thinks’.
alas sometimes substituted for profanity in F (e.g. 2.3.154,
5.2.116) so Q I die may be corrupt. I die, I die sounds
uncomfortably like MND 5.1.306, ‘Now die, die, die,
die, die’.
251 See LN.
252 Uncle Cf. 199n.
254 suffer i.e. be injured or killed
256 naked without weapon (or armour) (OED 4)
258 sustain maintain its position (OED 11e)
259 I … day Cf. Dent, D81.1, ‘I have seen the day’; RJ
1.5.21, KL 5.3.277.
262 your stop the obstruction you offer
vain empty; vainglorious
263 control command, exercise control over
fate Cf. Dent, F83, ‘It is impossible to avoid fate’. He
blames fate, the stars, luck, etc. (270, 339) to minimize
his own guilt.
264 weaponed armed. Cf. wived, womaned (2.1.60,
3.4.195).
265 Here Desdemona? Or, here in this place?
butt terminal point; that towards which his efforts are
directed, end

249 alas, I die] F; I die, I die Q SD] Q; not in F 251 is] Q; was F ice-brook’s] F
(Ice brookes); Isebrookes Q 253 SD] Q (Gra. within.) opp. 252 255 with] F;
to Q 256.1] as Theobald; not in QF 262 your] F; you Q 264–70] F; not in Q

266 sea-mark the boundary or limit of the flow of the sea;

a conspicuous object which guides sailors in navigation
utmost farthest; last (OED 1, 3). Cf. MM 2.1.36, ‘that’s
the utmost of his pilgrimage’.
267 dismayed appalled (stronger than today)
lost groundless
268 Man … against use a mere rush as a weapon against.
Cf. KJ 4.3.129–30, ‘a rush will be a beam / To hang thee
on’.
270 ill-starred ill-fated. A coinage, like ‘star-crossed’ (RJ
Prol. 6). Perhaps alluding to Disdemona’s name (= the
unfortunate one, to which Cinthio drew attention).
wench Cf. 3.3.317n.
271 Pale … smock Cf. Dent, C446, ‘As pale as a clout (=
piece of cloth)’.
compt the Day of Judgement ([ac]compt = account); cf. AW
5.3.57, ‘the great compt’. This was a popular subject
with Renaissance painters, who depicted the damned
 being hurled from heaven and seized in mid-air by
devils: also found in bibles, stained-glass windows,
emblem books, etc.
273–4Cold … chastity Cf. Dent, I1, ‘As chaste as ice
(snow)’. Cf. 3.4.39, ‘Hot, hot, and moist’, 5.2.4.
274 O … slave He curses himself (or possibly Iago). Placed
in the same line with Even … chastity in both Q and F
(Q has only one cursed, = cursèd; F has two, = curs’d,
curs’d). Some editors move the words down one line
and print ‘O cursèd, cursèd slave! Whip me, ye devils /’.
276 possession i.e. having, enjoying (he does not deserve
to enjoy a ‘heavenly sight’: his rightful place is hell)
heavenly a word associated with ‘the divine
Desdemona’: cf. 4.3.65, 5.2.133
277–8 See LN.
277 roast … sulphur Cf. 3.3.332n.
278 steep-down precipitous (unique in Shakespeare)
gulfs perhaps influenced by Luke 16.19ff.: the rich man,
tormented by flames in hell, looks up and sees Lazarus
in Abraham’s bosom. Between them is a ‘great gulf’.
liquid fire Cf. Revelation 19.20, ‘cast quick into a pond of
fire, burning with brimstone’.

271 compt] F; count Q 274 2cursed] F; not in Q 275 ye] F; you Q

279 Like Lear’s ‘Never, never …’ (5.3.309), this line can be

spoken in many ways. F’s punctuation is not likely to be
Shakespeare’s.
O, O! probably a single prolonged moan or cry: cf. 195n.
281 That’s … Othello Some editors take this as a
statement. I prefer a question (That’s = that’s to say):
‘You mean – he that was Othello?’ He is on the verge of
disowning himself. Cf. the he–I switch at 353–4, and, in
 a different context, TN 1.5.234, ‘such a one I was this
present’.
283 his Iago’s. Othello means the fable that the devil has a
cloven foot (Tilley, D252).
285 Wrench Others hold Othello now; he probably
surrenders his sword without a struggle.
I … killed sarcastic: ‘I bleed (like a human being), but I’m
not killed (therefore I may be a devil).
287 for one who feels as I do would think it happiness to
die

279] F; O Desdemona, Desdemoua, dead, O, o, o. Q 279.1–2] Enter Lodouico,

Montano, Iago, and Officers, Cassio in a Chaire. Q; Enter Lodouico, Cassio,
Montano, and Iago, with Officers. F; … Cassio led in wounded, Montano,
and Iago Prisoner, with Officers. Rowe 280 unfortunate] F; infortunate Q
281 Othello?] this edn; Othello, Q; Othello: F 282] as Q; F lines Viper? /
forth. / that] F; this Q 284 If that] F; If Q SD] Rowe; not in QF 285 Wrench]
F; Wring Q 286 live] Qc, F; loue Qu.

288 O thou Othello a curious form of address, but

common in this play, usually spoken to or by Othello: ‘O
thou foul thief’, ‘O thou weed’, ‘O thou public
commoner’, ‘O thou dull Moor’, ‘O thou pernicious
caitiff’ (1.2.62; 4.2.68, 74; 5.2.223, 316). Less
respectful than you.
289 in the practice through the treachery or intrigue
cursed cursèd
290 What … thee? What can we possibly say to you?
anything anything you like; or perhaps a question, ‘why
(say) anything?’
292 in honour with honourable intent. Is he deceiving
himself?
293 part partly
294 consent in agree in planning
296 Dear general Othello can inspire strong affection, not
only in Desdemona.
I … cause Cf. 3.4.158.
297 Cf. Hamlet’s similar apology to Laertes, shortly before
his death, ‘Give me your pardon, sir. I have done you
wrong’ (5.2.226).
298 demi-devil apparently Shakespeare’s coinage. Othello
accepts that Iago bleeds, therefore is not a proper
devil: cf. 284–5.
299 and body He foresees his own damnation. Cf.
Homilies, 82, ‘damnation both of body and soul’, and
357; Matthew 10.28, quoted 31–2n.

288 wert] Q; was F 289 cursed] F; damned Q 290 shall] F; should Q 292 I did]
F; did I Q 296 never gave] F; did neuer giue Q 297 your] F; you Q 298 I
pray] F; pray Q

301 For his refusal to explain, cf. Hieronimo in The Spanish

Tragedy, ‘Sufficeth I may not, nor I will not tell thee’
(Revels, 4.4.182); ‘I’ll speak no more but “Vengeance
rot you all!”’ (Tit 5.1.58). How does Iago bear himself
from now on? Some actors make him ‘switch off’, as if
he has lost interest; others make him gloat in triumph.
302 Torments tortures
303 Does he mean ‘Thou dost best not to tell us’?
304ff. Such summaries of the action are common in plays of
the period: cf. Tit (as in 301n.) and Friar Lawrence in
RJ 5.3.229ff. Here Shakespeare focuses less on events
than on reactions to events.
304 befallen happened
305 a letter Letters that conveniently help the plot are a
convention of comedy: TGV 4.4.121ff., LLL 4.3.191ff.,
TN 5.1.330ff.
310 gross monstrous; obvious. Cf. J. Chamber, A Treatise
(1601), Cla, ‘so grosse and heathenish a superstition’.
311 discontented i.e. filled with grievances
313 damned damnèd
314 belike probably
in the nick at that point. Colloquial and ‘low’, hence
‘sophisticated’ in F (where interim gives a long line) or
revised by Shakespeare. Cf. Dent, N160, ‘In the nick
(nick of time)’.
315 i.e. arrived and gave a satisfactory explanation

304 Sir,] as Q; F lines Sir, / befalne, / 308–9] as F; one line Q 313 t’] F; to Q 314
nick] Q; interim F

316 caitiff scoundrel, villain

317 In some productions (Hankey, 239, 333) the
handkerchief now bandages Cassio’s leg (a good idea,
or too obvious?). If no handkerchief is visible, we may
prefer Q ‘a’ to F ‘that’, since Cassio was not present
when Emilia explained its significance (223ff.). But the
audience knows its significance, which may be enough.
319 *but Q it was ‘caught by the compositor’s eye’ from
318 or 320 (so Malone). This is a QF ‘common error’
(Texts, 90), if Malone is right.
320 special purpose Cf. 4.2.241–3n.
321 i.e. which had the effect he wanted
O … fool He sees only the least of his errors: contrast
Roderigo, ‘O, villain that I am!’ (Heilman, 164–5). This
cry is almost a reply to his own ‘O, blood, blood, blood!’
(3.3.454).
324 Brave defy
whereon it came whereupon (or, for which cause) it
happened
325 cast dismissed
325–6and … dead Cf. Desdemona (115–23).
328 forsake leave; i.e. he is under arrest
room could = employment, appointment (OED 12; Hulme,
273)
329 taken off withdrawn
330 For as for
332 hold him long keep him alive a long time before he
dies

316 thou] F; the Q 317 that] F; a Q 319 but even] Capell; it euen Q; it but euen
F

333 You (to Othello)

close confined, shut up
rest remain
336 Soft you See LN.
word or two Note the understatement: some service,
unlucky, not wisely, Perplexed, etc. He tries to ‘rewrite
the past’.
338 No … that Cf. 3.3.337.
340 Speak of i.e. in writing (OED 11)
extenuate lessen, tone down. The sense ‘extenuate the
guilt of’ first recorded 1741: OED 7b.
342ff. Of one Is this one a way of shifting some of the
blame? With repeated of, cf. 1.3.135–40.
342 loved not wisely So Ovid, Heroides, 2.27, ‘non
sapienter amavi’ (I loved not wisely).
343 wrought agitated (hence ‘over-wrought’), worked
upon
344 Perplexed ‘not so much “puzzled” as “distracted”’
(Ridley). We know that the stronger ‘distracted’ is
applicable, but he may mean bewildered by misleading
evidence.
345 base lowly (with ‘Indian’); depraved, despicable (if we
read ‘Judean’)
Indian See LN.
346 Richer of more worth
tribe could be the tribes of Israel or an Indian tribe
subdued overcome
347 unused (unusèd, if Albeit is disyllabic). Not strictly
true: cf. his weeping elsewhere.
348–9Arabian … gum Pliny wrote at length about trees
and gums (bks 12, 13). J. O. Holmer thinks Arabian
trees = not balsam but myrrh trees, since they alone
correspond fully to Shakespeare’s specifications
(Arabian, medicinal uses, profuse ‘weeping’): SSt, 13
(1980), 145ff.

335 him] Q; not in F 336 before you go] F; not in Q 340 me as I am] F; them as
they are Q 341] as Q; F lines malice. / speake, / 345 Indian] Q, F2; Iudean F
348 Drops] QF; Drop Q2

349 medicinable medicinal

Set … this He asks for a written report; Lodovico speaks of
an oral report (368–9).
350 Aleppo Not mentioned before, Aleppo reminds us that
much of Othello’s past remains a closed book. It was an
important staging post for trade between Europe and
the East: an English factor lived there (as in Venice).
351 turbanned A turban was a symbol of Islam.
352 traduced Malignant and traduced refer obliquely to
Iago, who slandered Venetian women. But Othello,
stabbing himself, also identifies himself with the Turk.
353 took … throat Cf. 3.3.362n., 5.2.200n.
circumcised See LN.
354 SD This was one of Salvini’s most sensational moments
as Othello. N.B. Should Othello’s fall here remind us of
 his fit (4.1.43)?
355 period conclusion; appointed end of a journey (cf. 265–
6). In some productions the curtain came down after
period (Hankey, 339).
356 I … 2thee If Judean is right and not Indian (see 345
LN), this line refers to the kiss and suicide of Judas
(Matthew 26.49, 27.5).
ere before
no … this Cf. Dent, W148, ‘There is no way but one (i.e.,
death).’
357 to … kiss For the conventional ‘last kiss’, cf. also RJ
5.3.120, ‘Thus with a kiss I die’, AC 4.15.20.
358 SD Several Othellos ‘died in attempting to reach the
bed, or just after reaching it’ (Sprague, 220–1, Hankey,
237–8), i.e. not ‘upon a kiss’. But ‘no way but this’
seems to imply that he kisses her.
359 great of heart ‘great-hearted’ = high-spirited, proud
(OED)
Spartan dog See LN.

349 medicinable] F; medicinall Q 351 malignant … Turk] Malignant and a

Turband Turke Q; malignant, and a Turbond-Turke F 354 SD] Q; not in F
355 that’s] Q; that is F 357 SD] He dies. Q; Dyes F 359 Spartan] F
(Sparton) 360 fell savage, ruthless
anguish excruciating bodily or mental pain
361 This line suggests (cf. 358 SD n.) that both Desdemona
and Othello lie on the bed.
362 object spectacle; the presentation of something to the
eye. Cf. Cor 1.1.20, ‘the object of our misery’.
363 hid i.e. by a sheet, or by pulling the bed curtains (thus
concealing the actors’ breathing) keep guard
364 seize upon take possession of
fortunes possessions
365 they … you pass to you by succession (as Desdemona’s
uncle: 199n.) to F on is possible, but awkward after
upon.
lord governor He reminds Cassio, who is mildly ineffective
when sober, to take charge firmly as governor; hence,
too, enforce it, 367.
366 censure formal judgement; correction
367 torture i.e. to make Iago confess his motives (cf.
301n.). Notice how insistently the end of this scene
focuses on motives: 292, 296, 298–9, 301–2, 317, 320,
341ff.
368 straight aboard immediately go on board ship
369 heavy … heavy distressful … sorrowful
act action, deed

361 loading] F; lodging Q 362] as Q; F lines worke: / Sight, / 365 to] Q; on F

369 SD] F; Exeunt omnes. Q
Bloomsbury Arden Shakespeare
An imprint of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
50 Bedford Square 1385 Broadway London New York WC1B 3DP NY 10018
UK USA
www.bloomsbury.com

Bloomsbury is a registered trade mark of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc

This edition of Othello, edited by E. A. J. Honigmann, 1997

Revised Edition with a new introduction by Ayanna Thompson, published 2016

by the Arden Shakespeare
Editorial matter © 1997, 2016 E. A. J. Honigmann Introduction © Ayanna
Thompson 2016

The general editors of the Arden Shakespeare have been W. J. Craig and R. H.
Case (first series 1899–1944) Una Ellis-Fermor, Harold F. Brooks, Harold Jenkins
and Brian Morris (second series 1946–82)

Present general editors (third series) Richard Proudfoot, Ann Thompson, David
Scott Kastan and H. R. Woudhuysen
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted
in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,
recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, without prior
permission in writing from the publishers.

No responsibility for loss caused to any individual or organization acting on or

refraining from action as a result of the material in this publication can be
accepted by Bloomsbury or the author.

British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this

book is available from the British Library.

ISBN: HB: 9781472571779

PB: 9781472571762
 ePDF: 9781472571793
ePub: 9781472571786

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data A catalog record for

this book is available from the Library of Congress.

Typeset by RefineCatch Limited, Bungay, Suffolk