(Save that, they say, the wars must make examples Out of their best,) is not almost a fault

To incur a private check: When shall he come?
Tell me, Othello. I wonder in my soul,
What you could ask me, that I should deny,
Or stand so manimering on. What! Michael Cassio,
That came a wooing with you; and 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! Trust me, I could do much,-
Oth. Pr'ythee, no more; let him come when he
I will deny thee nothing.
[will;
Des.
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 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 poize and difficulty,
And fearful to be granted.

Oth. I will deny thee nothing: Whereon, I do beseech thee, grant me this, To leave me but a little to myself.

Des. Shall I deny you? no: Farewell, my lord. Oth. Farewell, my Desdemona: I will come to thee straight.

[you; Des. Emilia, come :-Be it as your fancies teach Whate'er you be, I am obedient. [Exit, with Emilia. Oth. 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,Oth.

What dost thou say, Iago? Iago. Did Michael Cassio, when you woo'd my lady, Know of your love?

[ask?

Oth. He did, from first to last: Why dost thou Jago. But for a satisfaction of my thought; No further harm. Oth. Why of thy thought, Iago? Iago. I did not think, he had been acquainted

with her.

Oth. O, yes; and went between us very oft. Iago. Indeed? [in that? Oth. Indeed! ay, indeed :-Disceru'st thou aught Is he not honest? Iago.

Honest, my lord?

Oth.

Iago. My lord, for aught I know.
Oth. What dost thou think?
Think, my lord?

Iago.

Oth.

Think, my lord!

By heaven, he echoes me,
As if there were some monster in his thought,
Too hideous to be shewn.-Thou dost mean some-
thing:

Oth. Certain, men should be what they seem Iago. Why then,

The worst of words.

I think that Cassio is an honest man.
Oth. Nay, yet there's more in this:
I pray thee, speak to me as to thy thinkings,
As thou dost ruminate; and give thy worst of
[thoughts
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,-

Iago.

I heard thee say but now,-Thou lik'dst not that,
When Cassio left my wife: What did'st not like?
And, when I told thee-he was of my counsel
In my whole course of wooing, thou cry'dst, Indeed?
And did'st contract and purse thy brow together,
As if thou then had'st shut up in thy brain
Some horrible conceit: If thou dost love me,
Shew me thy thought.

Iago. My lord, you know I love you.
Oth.
I think, thou dost ;
And, for I know thou art 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 are close denotements working from the heart,
That passion cannot rule.

Iago.

For Michael Cassio,I dare be sworn, I think that he is honest. Oth. I think so too. Iago. Men should be what they seem Or, those that be not, 'would they might seem none

As where's that palace, whereinto foul things
Sometimes intrude not? who has a breast so pure,
But some uncleanly apprehensions

Keep leets, and law-days, and in session sit
With meditations lawful?

Oth. Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago. If thou but think'st him wrong'd, and mak`st his es 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 Shapes faults that are not,-I entreat you then, From one that so imperfectly conjects, You'd take no notice; nor build yourself a trouble Out of his scattering and unsure observance:— It were not for your quiet, nor your good, Nor for my manhood, honesty, or wisdom, To let you know my thoughts.

?

Oth.
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; '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.

Oth. By heaven, I'll know thy thought.
Iago. You cannot, if my heart were in your hand;
Nor shall not, whilst 'tis in my custody.
Oth. Ha!

Iago. Poor and content, is rich, and rich enough; But riches, fineless, is as poor as winter, To him that ever fears he shall be poor:Good heaven, the souls of all my tribe defend From jealousy!

Oth.

Why? why is this? Think'st thou, I'd make a life of jealousy, To follow still the changes of the moon With fresh suspicions? No: to be once in doubt, Is-once to be resolv'd: Exchange me for a goat, When I shall turn the business of my soul To such exsufflicate, and blown surmises, Matching thy inference. 'Tis not to make me jea

lous,

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
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 jealousy.

[reason

Iago. I am glad of this; for now I shall have To shew 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.

Dangerous conceits are, in their natures, poisons,
Which, at the first, are scarce found to distaste;
But, with a little act upon the blood,

Burn like the mines of sulphur.-I did say so :-
Enter OTHELLO.
Look, where he comes! Not poppy, nor mandragora,
Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world,
Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep,
Which thou ow'dst yesterday.

Oth.
To me?

Ha ha! false to me?

Iago. Why, how now, general? no more of that. Oth. Avaunt! be gone! thou hast set me on the

rack:

I swear, 'tis better to be much abus'd, Than but to know't a little.

Iago.

How now, my lord?
Oth. What sense had I of her stolen hours of lust?
I saw it not, thought it not, it harm'd not me:
I slept the next night well, was free and merry;
I found not Cassio's kisses on her lips:

He that is robb'd, not wanting what is stolen,
Let him not know it, and he's not robb'd at all.
Iago. I am sorry to hear this.

Oth. I had been happy, if the general camp,
Pioneers and all, had tasted her sweet body,
So I had nothing known: O now, for ever,
Farewell the tranquil mind: farewell content!
Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars,
That make ambition virtue! O, farewell!
Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump,
The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife,
The royal banner; and all quality,
Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war!
And O, you mortal engines, whose rude throats
The immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit,
Farewell! Othello's occupation's gone!

Iago. Is it possible?—My lord,—

Oth. Villain, be sure thou prove my love a whore; Be sure of it; give me the ocular proof; (Taking him by the throat.) Or, by the worth of mine eternal soul, Thou had'st been better have been born a dog, Than answer my wak'd wrath.

Iago. O grace! O heaven defend me! Are you a man? have you a soul or sense?— God be wi' you; take mine office.-O wretched fool, That liv'st to make thine honesty a vice!O monstrous world! Take note, take note, O world, To be direct and honest, is not safe.— I thank you for this profit; and, from hence, I'll love no friend, since love breeds such offence. Oth. Nay, stay:-Thou should'st be honest. Iago. I should be wise; for honesty's a fool, And loses that it works for.

Oth. 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 visage, is now begrim'd 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. And may: But, how? how satisfied, my lord?

Would you, the supervisor, grossly gape on?
Behold her tupp'd?

Iago. I see, sir, you are eaten up with passion; I do repent me, that I put it to you. You would be satisfied?

Oth.

Would! nay, I will.

Oth.
Death and damnation! O!
Iago. It were a tedious difficulty, I think,
To bring them to that 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,
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 satisfaction, you may have it.

Oth. Give me a living reason she's disloyal.
Iago. I do not like the office:

But, sith I am enter'd in this cause so far,-
Prick'd to it by 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 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 pluck'd up kisses by the roots,
That grew upon my lips: then laid his leg
Over my thigh, and sigh'd, and kiss'd; and then,
Cry'd,-Cursed fate! that gave thee to the Moor!
Oth. O monstrous! monstrous!

Iago.

Nay, this was but his dream. Oth. But this denoted a foregone conclusion; 'Tis a shrewd doubt, though it be but a dream. Iago. And this may help to thicken other proofs, That do demonstrate thinly.

Oth. I'll tear her all to pieces. Iago. Nay, but be wise; yet we see nothing done; She may be honest yet. Tell me but this, Have you not sometimes seen a handkerchief, Spotted with strawberries, in your wife's hand?

Oth. I gave her such a one; 'twas my first gift. Iago. I know not that: but such a handkerchief, (I am sure it was your wife's,) did I to-day See Cassio wipe his beard with.

Oth. If it be that,Iago. If it be that, or any that was her's, It speaks against her with the other proofs. Oth. O, that the slave had forty thousand lives; One is too poor, too weak for my revenge! Now do I see 'tis true. Look here, Iago; All my fond love thus I do blow to heaven: "Tis gone.

Arise, black vengeance, from thy hollow cell,
Yield up, O love, thy crown, and hearted throne,
To tyrannous hate! swell, bosom, with thy fraught,
For 'tis of aspics' tongues!

Iago. Pray, be content.
Oth.
O, blood, Iago, blood!
Iago. Patience, I say; your mind, perhaps, may
change.

Oth. Never, Iago. Like to the Pontic sea, Whose icy current and compulsive course Ne'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on To the Propontic, and the Hellespont; Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace, 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 (Kneels.)

I here engage my words.

Iago. Do not rise yet.—( Kneels.) Witness, you ever-burning lights above! You elements that clip us round abont!

Oth. Damn her, lewd minx! O, damn her! Come, go with me apart: I will withdraw, To furnish me with some swift means of death For the fair devil. Now art thou my lientenant. Iago. I am your own for ever.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. The same.

Enter DESDEMONA, EMILIA, and Clown. Des. Do you know, sirrah, where lieutenant Cassio lies?

Clo. I dare not say, he lies any where.
Des. Why, man?
[lies, is stabbing.
Clo. He is a soldier; and for me to say a soldier
Des. Go to; where lodges he?

Clo. To tell you where he lodges, is to tell you

where I lie.

Des. Can any thing be made of this?

Clo. 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 my own throat.

Des. Can you enquire him out, and be edified by report?

Clo. I will catechise the world for him; that is, make questions, and by them answer.

Des. Seek him, bid him come hither: tell him, I have moved my lord in his behalf, and hope, all will be well.

Enter OTHELLO.

Oth. Well, my good lady :-(Aside.) O, hardness to dissemble! How do you, Desdemona?

Des. Well, my good lord.

[you.

Oth. What promise, chuck?
Des. I have sent to bid Cassio come speak with
Oth. I have a salt and sullen rheum offends me;
Lend me thy handkerchief.
Des.

Oth. That which I gave you.
Des.

Oth. Give me your hand: This hand is moist, my lady. [row. Des. It yet has felt no age, nor known no sorOth. This argues fruitfulness, and liberal heart;Not, 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.

Des. You may, indeed, say so; For 'twas that hand, that gave away my heart. Oth. A liberal hand: The hearts, of old,gave hands; But our new heraldry is-hands, not hearts. Des. I cannot speak of this. Come now, your

promise.

Oth. Not? Des.

Oth.

Here, my lord.

I have it not about me.

No, indeed, my lord.

That is a fault :

That handkerchief

Did an Egyptian to my mother give:
She was a charmer, and could almost read [it,
The thoughts of people: she told her, while she kept
'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 loathly, 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 of't,
Make it a darling like your precious eye;
To lose or giv't away, were such perdition,
As nothing else could match.

Des.

Is it possible? Oth. 'Tis true: there's magic in the web of it: A sibyl, that had number'd in the world The sun to make two hundred compasses, In her prophetic fury sew'd the work: The worms were hallow'd, that did breed the silk; And it was died in mummy, which the skilful Conserv'd of maidens' hearts.

Des.

Indeed! is't true? Oth. Most veritable; therefore look to't well. Des. Then 'would to heaven, that I had never seen it.

Oth. Ha! wherefore?

Des. Why do you speak so startingly and rash?
Oth. Is't lost? is't gone? speak, is't out of the
Des. Heaven bless us !
[way?

Oth.

Say you?
Des. It is not lost; but what an if it were?
Oth. Ha!

Des. I say, it is not lost.
Oth.

Fetch't, let me see it.

Des. Why, so I can, sir, but I will not now;
This is a trick, to put me from my suit;
I pray, let Cassio be receiv'd again,

[gives.

Oth. Fetch me that handkerchief; my mind mis-
Des. Come, come;

You'll never meet a more sufficient man.
Oth. The handkerchief!-
Des.
I pray, talk to me of Cassio
Oth. The handkerchief!-
Des.
A man that, all his time
Hath founded his good fortune on your love;
Shar'd dangers with you;-

Oth.

The handkerchief!

Des. In sooth,

You are to blame.

Away!

[Exit. Is not this mau jealous?

Oth.
Emil.

Des. I ne'er saw this before.
Sure, there's some wonder in this handkerchief:
I am most unhappy in the loss of it.

Emil. 'Tis not a year or two shews us a man: They are all but stomachs, and we all but food; They eat us hungrily, and when they are full, They belch us. Look you! Cassio, and my husband.