All language subtitles for Othello Part III 1981 PAL DVD DD2.0 x264-RR

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

Oh, pardon me. Do me good to walk.

Madam, good night.

I humbly thank your ladyship.

Your honour is most welcome.

Sir, will you walk?

He goes tomorrow?

Get you to bed on the instant.

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

I will, my lord.

How goes it now?

He looks gentler than he did.

He says he will return incontinent.

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

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

nightly wearing.

We must not now displease him.

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

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

Prithee, unpin me.

Have grace and favour in them.

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

All's one?

Good faith, how foolish are our minds.

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

Oh, come, come, you talk.

My mother had a maid called Barbary.

She was in love.

And he she loved proved mad and did
forsake her.

She had a song of willow.

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

And she died singing it.

That song tonight will not go from my
mind.

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

Barbary.

Prithee, dispatch.

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

This Lodovico is a proper man.

A very handsome man. He speaks well.

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

touch of his nether lip.

Sing all the green willow. Sing willow,

willow, willow.

The fresh stream ran by her and

murmured her moans. Sing.

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

That's not next.

Who is that knocks?

It's the wind.

So get thee gone.

Oh, my eyes do itch.

That bode weeping.

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

Oh, these men, these men.

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

their husbands in such gross kind?

There'd be some such, no question.

Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the
world?

Why, would not you?

Nay, by this heavenly light. Nor I
neither.

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

Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the
world?

The world's a huge thing.

It's a great price for a small vice.

Good troth, I think thou wouldst not.

By my troth, I think I should.

And undo't when I had done it.

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

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

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

cuckold to make him a monarch.

I should venture purgatory for it.

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

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

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

might quickly make it right.

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

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

I do think it is their husbands' faults
if wives do fall.

Say that they slack their duties and
pour our treasures into foreign laps, or

else break out in peevish jealousies,
throwing restraint upon us.

Or say they strike us, or scant our
former having in despite.

Why, we have galls.

And though we have some grace, yet have
we some revenge.

Let husbands know their wives have sense
like them.

They see and smell and have their
palates both for sweet and sour as men

have.

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

Is it sport?

I think it is.

And does affection breed it?

I think it does.

frailty that does us?

It is so too.

And have not we affections, desires for
sport, and frailty, as men have?

Then let them use us well, else let them
know the ills we do, their ills instruct

us so.

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

But by bad mend.

behind this pock.

Straight will he come.

Where I could rapier bear and put it
home quick quick fear nothing.

I'll be at thy elbow.

It makes us or it mars us.

Think on that and fix most firm my
resolution.

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

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

Tis but a man gone.

Forth my sword, he died.

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

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

way makes my game.

Live Rodrigo.

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

gifts to Desdemona.

Must not be.

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

me ugly.

Besides,

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

No.

He must die.

Be it so.

I hear him coming.

I know his gate is here.

Freeman! Thou diest!

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

I will make proof of thine.

Desi, my brave Iago, honest and just.

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

come.

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

Shall with lust's blood be spotted.

It's the last chance.

The voice is very dire. Hark!

Two or three growl at this heavy night.

These may be counterfeits.

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

Hark!

Here's one coming in his shirt with
weapons.

Who's there?

Did you not hear a cry?

Help me! What's the matter?

Same indeed, a very valiant fellow.

What are you here?

Why so furious?

I'm spoiled and done by villains.

Give me some help.

Oh, me? Lieutenant?

What villains have done this?

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

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

Murderous slave.

Villain.

Kill

men

in the dark?

These bloody thieves!

How silent is this town? How?

Murder! Murder!

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

Signor Lodovico? Yes, sir.

I cry your pardon.

Here's Cassio, hurt by villains.

My legs are cut in two.

I'll bind you with my shirt.

That cried.

Oh, my dear Cassio.

Oh, my sweet Cassio.

Oh, the outermost trumpet.

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

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

hence. Lassie faints.

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

Patience a while, good Cassio.

Come, come, let me the torch.

Alas, my friend.

My dear countryman, Rodrigo.

Yeah, sure.

Oh, heaven, Rodrigo.

What, a phoenix?

Even he, sir. Did you know him?

No, am I?

Signor Graziano.

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

manners, they're so wretched.

I'm glad to see you.

How do you, Cassio? A chair!

A chair!

Where do we go?

Even... A chair.

I'll fetch the general surgeon.

For you, mistress.

Save you your labours.

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

What malice was between you?

None in the world.

Nor do I know the man.

What, look you pale.

Bear him out of the air.

Now stay you, good gentleman.

But look you pale, mistress.

Do you perceive the gasses of her eye?

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

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

You see, gentlemen?

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

Alas, what's the matter?

What's the matter, husband?

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

He's almost slain, and Rodrigo quite
dead.

Alas, good gentlemen, alas, good Cassio.

This is the fruits of whoring.

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

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

Oh, did he so?

Charge, you go with me.

Fire upon thee, strumpet.

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

Fire upon thee, strumpet.

Come, gentlemen.

Let's go see poor Cassio dressed.

You must tell us another tale.

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

happened. You go on afore.

This is the night that either makes me
or

foredoes me quite.

Let me not name it to you.

You chased stars.

It is the cause.

Yet.

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

and smooth as monumental alabaster.

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

Without the light.

And then...

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

should I repent me.

But once put out thy light, thou
cunningst pattern

of excelling nature.

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

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

It needs must wither.

I'll smell it.

most persuade justice to break her
sword.

One more.

One more.

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

And this the last.

So sweet was ne'er so fatal.

I must weep.

But they are cruel tears.

This sorrow's heavenly.

It strikes where it doth love.

Who's there?

What's that? My testimony.

Will you come to bed, my Lord?

Have you prayed tonight, Testimona?

Aye, my Lord.

If you bethink yourself of any crime...

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

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

I will walk by.

I would not kill thy unprepared spirit.

No.

Heaven forfend, I would not kill thy
soul.

Talk you of killing?

I do.

Then heaven have mercy on you.

Amen.

With all my heart.

If you say so.

I hope you will not kill me.

And yet I fear.

You are fearful then when your eyes roll
so.

I know not why I fear.

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

think on thy sins.

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

that death is unnatural that kills for
loving.

why law you so your nether lip?

Her bloody passion shakes your very
frame.

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

Peace and peace still!

I will so.

What's the matter?

That handkerchief.

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

No, by my life and soul.

Send for the man and ask him.

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

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

sin.

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

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

have mercy on me. I say amen.

And have you mercy too.

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

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

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

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

I thought a sacrifice.

I saw the handkerchief.

He found it, then I never gave it him.

Send for him hither.

Let him confess the truth. He hath
confessed.

What, my lord?

That he hath used thee.

How?

Unlawfully?

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

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

I feel him dead, but it's what?

Is he dead?

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

Jesus,

alas, he is betrayed.

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

Don't stop it!

Lay in your stone!

It is too late!

It is too late!

Not dead.

Not yet quite dead.

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

I would not help thee linger in thy
pain.

So.

So.

Who's there?

Yes.

Tis Amelia.

Bye and bye.

It is like she comes to speak of Cassius
there.

The noise was high.

No more moving.

Still is the grave.

Should she come in? I think she stirs
again.

No?

What's the best?

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

My wife.

My wife.

What wife?

I have no wife.

Oh, insupportable.

Oh, heavy hour.

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

the affrighted globe did yawn at
alteration.

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

Soft you bind by.

Let me the curtain draw.

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

What now? What now?

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

wont. It makes men mad.

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

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

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

Oh, Lord.

Murder.

What cry is that?

That one.

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

Help!

Help! Help!

Oh, lady.

Lady, speak again.

Sweet Desdemona.

Why? How should she be murdered?

Alas who knows.

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

I must needs report a truth.

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

Oh the Moor angel she.

And you, the blacker devil!

She turned to folly, and she was a
whore.

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

rash as fire to say that she was false.

Oh, she was heavenly true.

Cassio, did topper!

Ask thy husband else.

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

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

My husband? Thy husband.

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

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

and perfect chrysolite.

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

hates the slime that sticks on filthy
deeds.

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

Oh, mistress, Villeneuve made mocks with
love.

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

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

My friend, thy husband, Arasalaciaco.

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

He lies to the heart.

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

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

your best.

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

I told him what I thought.

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

But did you ever tell him she was false?

I did.

You told a lie.

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

She false with Cassio?

Did you say with Cassio?

With Cassio, mistress.

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

I think upon it, I think I smelt
villainy.

I thought so then.

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

I told you, I'll get you home.

I pray you, give me relief to speak.

It is proper I obey him.

But not now.

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

Nay, lay thee down.

I scarce did know you, uncle.

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

I know this act shews horrible and grim.

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

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

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

his better angel from his side,

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

thousand times committed. Cassio,
contest it!

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

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

It was a handkerchief, an antique token.

My father gave my...

God. I will

speak as liberal

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

against me.

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

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

such a trifle he begged of me to steal
it

I am not valiant neither but every puny
whipster gets my

sword but why should honor outlive
honesty

What did thy song, bold lady?

Hark!

Canst thou hear me?

I will play the swan and die in music.

Willow, willow...

Oh, more she was chaste.

She loved thee cruel more.

So come my soul to bliss as I speak
true.

And speaking as I think.

Alas, I don't...

this chamber.

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

Ah, here it is.

Uncle!

I must come forth.

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

Thou hast no weapon, and the force must
suffer.

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

thee.

Behold, I have a weapon.

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

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

impediments than twenty times your stop.

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

It is not so now.

Be not afraid, though you do see me
weaponed.

Here is my journey's end.

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

Do you go back dismayed?

Tis a lost fear.

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

Where should Othello go?

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

pale as thy smock?

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

and fiends will snatch at it.

Cold, cold, my girl,

even like thy chastity.

O curse it!

Curse it, slave!

He defiles from the possession of this
heavenly sight!

Blow me around in winds!

Roast me in sulphur!

Wash me in steeped-down gulfs of liquid
fire!

Ah, death to the mountain!

Death!

Most unfortunate man.

That he that was Othello.

Here I am.

Where is that viper? Bring the villain
forth.

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

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

I bleed, sir.

Were not killed.

I am not sorry neither.

I'd have thee live.

For in my sense, tis happiness to die.

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

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

An honourable murderer, if you will.

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

his villainy.

Did you and he consent in Cassio's
death?

Dear General, I never gave you cause. I
do believe it, and I ask your pardon.

Will you, I pray, demand that demi-devil
why he hath thus

ensnared my soul and body?

Demand me nothing.

What you know, you know.

From this time forth, I never will speak
word.

What, not to pray?

Torment will hurt my lips. How thou dost
best.

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

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

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

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

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

belike Iago in the nick came in and
satisfied him.

How thou pernicious Cato.

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

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

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

Fool, fool, fool.

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

me upon the watch whereon it came I was
cast.

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

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

is taken off, and Cassio rules in
Cyprus.

For this slave, if there be any cunning
cruelty that can torment him much and

hold him long, it shall be his.

You shall close prisoner rest till that
the nature of your fault be known to the

Venetian state.

Come, bring away.

I was after you.

A word or two before you go.

I have done the state some service.

And they know it.

No more of that.

I pray you, in your letters, when you
shall these unlucky deeds relate,

speak of me as I am, nothing

extenuate, nor set down aught in malice.

Then must you speak of one that loved,
not wisely,

but too well.

Of one not easily jealous, but being
wrought perplexed

in the extreme.

Of one whose hand,

like the base Indian,

threw a pearl away, richer than all his
tribe, of one whose

subdued eyes, albeit unused to the
melting mood, drops, tears,

as fast as the Arabian trees, the
immeasurable gum.

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

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

state, I took by the throat the
circumcised dog

and smote him.

Thus.

Oh, bloody period.

All that is spoke is marred.

I kissed thee and I killed thee.

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

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

For he was great of heart.

O Spartan dog, more fell than anguish,
hunger, or the sea.

Look on the tragic loading of this bed.

This is thy work.

The object poisons sight. Let it be hid.

Gratiano, keep the house and seize upon
the fortunes of the Moor, for they

succeed on you.

To you, Lord Governor, remains the
censure of this hellish villain.

The time, the place, the torture.

Oh, enforce it.

Myself will straight abroad.

And to the state, this...

Heavy act with heavy heart relate.