Othello - Part 1 of 2

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Dear lads and gen­tle­men, to­day in Vamp­syl­va­nia we present to you the play of the im­mor­tal William, praise be on him, Shake­speare!

This is part 1, for part 2 check the bot­tom pls~

A bed­cham­ber in the cas­tle: Desmond in bed asleep; a bright but pale mag­i­cal light fills the room, every­thing is cold-col­ored and med­ical­ly ster­ile as per vam­pir­ic tra­di­tion.

(En­ter Oth­el­lo, a mid­dle-aged bar­bar­ian, every­thing in his dark and bru­tal im­age con­trasts with the pale cold beau­ty of the room)

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 spank him;
Nor scar that whiter skin of his than snow,
And smooth as mon­u­men­tal al­abaster.
Yet he must suf­fer, else he'll laze far more.

(Kiss­ing him)

Desmond: Who's there? Oth­el­lo?

Oth­el­lo: Ay, Desmond, it is I.

Desmond: Will you come to bed, my love?

Oth­el­lo: Have you warm'd up to-night, Desmond?

Desmond: Alas, my lord, I didn't have the time.

Oth­el­lo: What were you up to?

Desmond: An­oth­er op­er­a­tion,
Three bloody lives were saved...
So tired I am, it's, tru­ly, hard to be a heal­er
And please, with­al, your weak­ness for my bel­ly...

Oth­el­lo: Well, do it, and be brief; I will walk by:
I would not cinch thy un­pre­pared waist.

Desmond: Talk you of cinch­ing?

Oth­el­lo: Ay, I do.

Desmond: Then heav­en
Have mer­cy on me!

Oth­el­lo: Amen, with all my heart!

Desmond: If you say so, I hope you will not cinch me.

Oth­el­lo: Hum!

Desmond: And yet I fear you; for you are fa­tal then
When your eyes roll so: why I should fear I know not,
Since wear I corsets on a dai­ly ba­sis
To train my waist for you; but yet I fear.

Oth­el­lo: And al­so belts and waistlets?

Desmond: They are loves I bear for you.

Oth­el­lo: Ay, and for that I'll cinch you.

Desmond: That death's un­nat­ur­al that pun­ish­es for lov­ing.
Alas, why gnaw you so your nether lip?
Some bloody pas­sion shakes your mus­cled tor­so:
These are tight ropes; but yet I hope, I hope,
They do not point on me.

Oth­el­lo: Peace, and be still!

Desmond: I will so. What's the mat­ter?

Oth­el­lo: That sil­ver waist­let which I so loved and gave thee
Thou gavest to Cas­sio.

Desmond: No, by my life and soul!
Send for the boy, and ask him.

Oth­el­lo: Sweet soul, take heed,
Take heed of per­jury; thou art on thy tor­ture rack.

Desmond: Then ropes and cords
Have mer­cy on me!

Oth­el­lo: I say, amen.

Desmond: And have you mer­cy too! I nev­er did
Of­fend you in my life; nev­er loved Cas­sio;
Nev­er did I give him
Even the small­est cinch­er!

Oth­el­lo: By heav­en, I saw my waist­let on his mid­dle.
O per­jured vam­pire! thou dost stone my heart,
And mak­est me call what I in­tend to do
A bel­ly tor­ture, which I thought a sac­ri­fice:
I saw the waist­let.

Desmond: He found it then;
I nev­er gave it to that boy: send for him hith­er;
Let him con­fess a truth.

Oth­el­lo: He hath con­fess'd.

Desmond: O, pun­ish me, my lord, but cinch me not!

Oth­el­lo: Down, strum­pet!

Desmond: Cinch me to-mor­row: let me breathe to-night!

Oth­el­lo: Nay, if you strive--

Desmond: But half an hour!

Oth­el­lo: Be­ing done, there is no pause.

Desmond: But just a short warm-up first!

Oth­el­lo: 'Tis too late.

Part 2:

See al­so