I do beseech you, sir, trouble yourself no further.
Lodovico: I beg you, don't walk anymore on my account.
You don't have to walk with me.
don't trouble yourself no more walking needed
O, pardon me; ’twill do me good to walk.
Othello: Oh, don't apologize. Walking will do me good.
I need to walk. It helps.
let me walk i need it
Madam, good night. I humbly thank your ladyship.
Madam, good night. I am very grateful for your kindness.
Good night, ma'am. Thank you so much for your hospitality.
good night thanks so much
Your honour is most welcome.
You are most welcome here.
You're very welcome.
welcome
Will you walk, sir?—
O, Desdemona,—
Will you walk with me, sir?
Come on a walk?
walk with me?
My lord?
My lord?
Yes?
my lord?
Get you to bed on th’ instant, I will be return’d forthwith. Dismiss
your attendant there. Look ’t be done.
Go to bed immediately. I'll be back shortly. Dismiss your attendant—see that it's done.
Get to bed right now. I'll be back soon. And send your maid away, make sure of it.
bed now be back soon fire your maid
I will, my lord.
I will do as you've asked, my lord.
Yes, I'll do it right away.
ok
How goes it now? He looks gentler than he did.
How's he doing now? He seems gentler than before.
He seems calmer than before.
he looks gentler than before
He says he will return incontinent,
He hath commanded me to go to bed,
And bade me to dismiss you.
He says he will return immediately. He has commanded me to go to bed, And asked me to dismiss you.
He says he'll be back in a minute. He wants me to go to bed and told me to send you away.
he's back soon told me to bed said let you go
The Willow Song is based on a real Elizabethan ballad, 'The Poor Soul Sat Sighing,' found in manuscript collections from the 1580s. Shakespeare takes this existing cultural material and gives it to Desdemona on the night before her murder — making it function simultaneously as a folk memory, a character study, and a structural preparation for tragedy. The song's subject — a woman abandoned by 'her mad lover' — is close enough to Desdemona's situation to be felt as an omen, but not so close that Desdemona herself makes the connection. This gap between what she knows and what the audience knows is the source of the scene's emotional power. She sings her own elegy without knowing it, in the way that folk songs often carry grief older than the singer.
Dismiss me?
Dismiss you? What do you mean?
Dismiss me? Wait, what?
dismiss me? what?
It was his bidding. Therefore, good Emilia,
Give me my nightly wearing, and adieu.
We must not now displease him.
He asked me to. So please, good Emilia, help me undress.
He told me to. Can you help me get ready for bed?
he said to help me get ready for bed
I would you had never seen him!
I wish you'd never met him!
I wish you'd never married him!
i wish you had never seen him
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 in them.
I wouldn't either. My love for him is so strong that even his stubbornness, his reproofs, his frowns seem graceful and lovely to me. Please unpin me.
I wouldn't. I love him so much that even his stubbornness and anger look beautiful to me. Unpin these for me.
i wouldn't i love him so much even his stubbornness looks beautiful unpin me
I have laid those sheets you bade me on the bed.
I've put the sheets on the bed that you wanted.
I put the sheets you wanted on the bed.
i've laid the sheets you wanted
All’s one. Good faith, how foolish are our minds!
If I do die before thee, prithee, shroud me
In one of those same sheets.
It doesn't matter. Honestly, how foolish our minds are! If I die before you, please wrap me in one of those same sheets.
It's all the same. You know, how silly we can be? If I die first, I want you to wrap me in one of those sheets.
doesn't matter if i die first wrap me in those sheets
Come, come, you talk.
Come on, let's go. You're just talking.
Come on, that's all talk.
come on you're just talking
My mother had a maid call’d Barbary,
She was in love, and he she lov’d prov’d mad
And did forsake her. She had a song of “willow”,
An old thing ’twas, but it express’d 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.
My mother had a servant girl named Barbary, She was in love, and the man she loved went mad And abandoned her. She had a song about "willow", An old one it was, but it captured her fate, And she died singing it. That song tonight Won't leave my mind. I have barely the strength But to let my head drop to one side And sing it like poor Barbary. Please hurry.
My mother had a maid named Barbary, She was in love, and the guy she loved went crazy And just left her. She had this old song about willow, An old tune, but it was basically about what happened to her, And she died singing it. I can't get that song out of my head tonight I'm barely holding it together, All I want to do is drop my head And sing it like Barbary. Come on, let's go.
my mom had a maid named barbary she loved a guy who went insane and abandoned her she had this willow song died singing it can't stop thinking about it tonight want to just drop my head and sing it like her come on let's hurry
Shall I go fetch your night-gown?
Should I get your nightgown?
You want your nightgown?
nightgown?
No, unpin me here.
This Lodovico is a proper man.
No, unpin me right here. This Lodovico is a fine man.
No, just unpin me here. That Lodovico is quite handsome.
unpin me here lodovico's handsome
A very handsome man.
He's a handsome man.
He's good-looking.
he's handsome
He speaks well.
He speaks well.
He talks nicely.
he speaks well
Emilia's speech about why wives might cheat — husbands who neglect, restrict, hit, and impoverish them — is Shakespeare's most explicit engagement with the power dynamics of marriage. She is not endorsing infidelity; she is contextualizing it as a predictable response to mistreatment. 'We have galls' — women feel bitterness too. The argument is surprisingly modern in its logic: you cannot expect unconditional loyalty from someone you mistreat. What makes the speech devastating in context is that Emilia is married to the man causing all of this mistreatment — Iago. Her pragmatic worldview comes from direct experience. She has 'galls.' And in 5-2, those galls will come to something: she will refuse to be silent at the cost of her life.
I know a lady in Venice would have walked barefoot to Palestine for a
touch of his nether lip.
I know a lady in Venice who would have walked barefoot to Palestine for a man like him.
I know a Venetian girl who'd walk anywhere for a guy like that.
a lady in venice would walk bare feet to palestine for a man like him
_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 murmur’d her moans,
Sing willow, willow, willow;
Her salt tears fell from her, and soften’d the stones;—_
Lay by these:—
A sad soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree, Singing all green willow. Her hand on her heart, her head on her knee, Sing willow, willow, willow. The fresh streams ran by her and murmured her sorrows, Sing willow, willow, willow; Her salty tears fell from her and softened the stones;— Put these things away:—
Some sad soul sat crying by a sycamore tree, Singing the willow song. Her hand on her heart, her head resting on her knee, Sing willow, willow, willow. The streams flowed past and echoed her sad cries, Sing willow, willow, willow; Her tears kept falling and softened the stones below;— Take these things away:—
sad soul by tree hand on heart head down streams heard her cry willow willow willow tears fell on stones take it away
_Sing willow, willow, willow._
Prithee hie thee. He’ll come anon.
Sing willow, willow, willow. Please go now. He'll arrive soon.
Sing the willow song, willow, willow. Hurry up. He's coming in a minute.
sing willow willow willow go go go he's coming soon
_Sing all a green willow must be my garland.
Let nobody blame him, his scorn I approve,—_
Nay, that’s not next. Hark! who is’t that knocks?
(singing) Sing that a wreath of green willow will be my crown. Let no one blame him; I accept his contempt as just,— No, that's not the next line. Listen! Who's that knocking?
(singing) "Green willow's the only crown I'll wear. Don't blame him, I'm fine with how he looks down on me..." Wait, no, that's the wrong verse. Shh! Who's that at the door?
willow crown for me i guess don't blame him, i deserve it wait wrong lyric hold up who's knocking??
It’s the wind.
It's just the wind.
Just the wind.
it's the wind
_I call’d my love false love; but what said he then?
Sing willow, willow, willow:
If I court mo women, you’ll couch with mo men._
So get thee gone; good night. Mine eyes do itch;
Doth that bode weeping?
I called my love a false lover; but what did he say to that? Sing willow, willow, willow: If I court more women, you'll sleep with more men. So go away; good night. My eyes are itching; Does that mean I'm going to cry?
I told my boyfriend he was a cheater; but then he said what? Sing willow, willow, willow: If I flirt with other women, you'll sleep around too. So get out of here; good night. My eyes are itching; Does that mean I'm going to break down and cry?
i called him false he said if i cheat u cheat so leave my eyes itch im gonna cry
’Tis neither here nor there.
It's not really relevant anymore.
That doesn't matter now.
it doesn't matter
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?
I've heard people say that. O, these men, these men! Do you really think, tell me, Emilia, that there are women who betray their husbands in such a blatant way?
Yeah, I've heard that. But seriously, do you think there are women out there who would cheat on their husbands like that?
ugh men do you think women really cheat like that?
The scene's staging — two women, one undressing the other, preparing for sleep — creates unusual theatrical intimacy. The domestic ritual of preparing for bed strips away the social armor that characters wear elsewhere. Desdemona here is not the general's wife or Brabantio's daughter or Cassio's advocate; she is a woman getting ready to sleep, singing a sad song, asking her companion about faithfulness in marriage. The vulnerability of this scene is precisely calibrated: it is the last moment before the play's violence, and its quiet domesticity makes the murder in 5-2 feel even more obscene. Shakespeare has shown us how ordinary her life is. Then he shows us how it ends.
There be some such, no question.
Yes, there are some like that, no doubt.
Yeah, some of them are like that.
some are no question
Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world?
Would you do such a thing—betray your husband—for all the money in the world?
Would you cheat on your husband for all the money in the world?
would you betray your husband for all the world's wealth?
Why, would not you?
Why wouldn't you?
Well, wouldn't you do the same?
wouldn't u
No, by this heavenly light!
No! Never! I swear by heaven!
Never! I swear!
no by heaven never
Nor I neither by this heavenly light,
I might do’t as well i’ the dark.
Not I either, by this heavenly light—though I could do it just as well in the dark.
Not me either, by this light—though honestly, I could do it in the dark just as easy.
not me tho could do it dark tho
Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world?
Would you do such a thing for all the world?
For real, would you?
really? for all the world?
The world’s a huge thing. It is a great price
For a small vice.
The world is a huge thing. It's a great price for such a sin.
The world's a big thing. But it's not worth it.
the world's huge but it's not enough for such wrong
In troth, I think thou wouldst not.
I believe you wouldn't.
I believe you.
i trust you
In 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 the
whole world—why, who would not make her husband a cuckold to make him a
monarch? I should venture purgatory for ’t.
To be honest, I think I would, and regret it afterwards. I wouldn't do it for something small—not for a simple ring, not for fabric or clothes or any petty thing. But for the whole world? Why wouldn't anyone make their husband unfaithful to become a queen? I would risk damnation for that.
Honestly? Yeah, I probably would, and then regret it later. I wouldn't do it for some cheap ring or fancy clothes. But for the whole world? For power? Who wouldn't betray their husband if it made them a queen? I'd risk hell for that.
honestly i would and regret it not for cheap stuff but for the whole world? who wouldn't?
Beshrew me, if I would do such a wrong for the whole world.
God forgive me, but I would never do such a wrong thing, not for the whole world!
Never! I'd never do that, not for anything!
never! not for anything not for the whole world
Why, the wrong is but a wrong i’ the world; and having the world for
your labour, ’tis a wrong in your own world, and you might quickly make
it right.
Why, betrayal is just one wrong among many in the world; and if you gain the world for your effort, it's just a wrong in your own little world, and you can quickly fix it.
Look, cheating is just one wrong among many. If you get the whole world for it, that's just one wrong in your world, and you can fix it.
betrayal's just one wrong you gain the whole world you can fix it
I do not think there is any such woman.
I don't think there's any woman like that.
I don't think anyone's like that.
no woman is like that
Yes, a dozen; and as many to the 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?
Then let them use us well: else let them know,
The ills we do, their ills instruct us so.
Yes, dozens of them—and as many more as would be needed to fill the world they gambled for. But I think it's the husbands' fault if wives cheat. Either the husbands neglect their duties and give their love to other women, or they get jealous and controlling, restricting us. Or they hit us or take away what they once gave us out of spite. We have anger in us too; and although we have some grace and mercy, we also have revenge. Let husbands know that their wives are human like them: we see, we smell, we have tastes for both pleasant and unpleasant things, just like husbands do. What do they do when they betray us for other women? Is it for pleasure? I think it is. Does lust cause it? I think it does. Is it human weakness that causes it? Yes. And don't we have desires, desires for pleasure, and human weakness just like men do? Then let them treat us well. Otherwise, let them know that the wrongs we do, their own wrongs have taught us to do.
Yeah, dozens of them, and probably more. But honestly, I think it's the husbands' fault if their wives cheat. They either ignore their wives and chase other women, or they get jealous and controlling. Or they hit us or take away things they promised us. We have anger just like they do, and we can be just as vengeful. Husbands need to understand that wives are as human as they are—we see, we smell, we have feelings and preferences just like they do. When husbands go with other women for pleasure, why shouldn't we do the same? When they neglect us and mistreat us, of course we'll cheat. It's their own behavior that teaches us to do it.
yeah dozens it's the husbands' fault they neglect us or get jealous hit us or take things away we're human too we have desires like they do if they cheat so can we their behavior teaches us
Good night, good night. Heaven me such usage send,
Not to pick bad from bad, but by bad mend!
Good night. I pray heaven grants me a husband who treats me better than this.
Good night. I hope God gives me a better husband.
good night hope heaven sendsme a better husband
The Reckoning
The quietest scene in the second half of the play — and because of that quiet, the most unbearable. After the violence of the preceding scenes, Shakespeare gives us two women, a bed, and a song. The Willow Song is an old ballad about abandoned love; Desdemona learns it by heart the day her mother's maid died, which is also the day the murder Othello is planning is being finalized. The scene is a lyric before tragedy. The conversation about whether women cheat on their husbands — Emilia's pragmatic 'yes, sometimes, and who can blame them' versus Desdemona's absolute 'no, never' — is the last of the play's great gender-political dialogues, and Desdemona's answer is the most innocent and most fatal.
If this happened today…
Two women getting ready for bed, the older one asking the younger 'do you think people ever just — stop loving you overnight? For no reason?' And the younger one saying she doesn't know, but she knows a song. She sings it. Then they argue gently about whether anyone could be driven to cheat by loneliness. The older one says yes. The younger one says never. And then: goodnight.