The Dramatic Works of Shakespeare

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 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, fago,
If thou but think'st him wrong'd, 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
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. 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 Cassio;
Wear your eye-thus, not jealous, nor secure:
I would not have your free and noble nature,
Out of self-bounty, be abus'd; look to't:
I know our country disposition well;
In Venice they do let heaven see the pranks
They dare not show their husbands; their best con-
science

Is-not to leave undone, but keep unknown.
Oth. Dost thou say so?

Iago. She did deceive her father, marrying you;
And, when she seem'd to shake, and fear your looks,
She lov'd them most.
Oth. 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 humbly do beseech you of your pardon,
For too much loving you.

Oth. I am bound to thee for ever.

Iago. I see, this hath a little dash'd your spirits.
Oth. Not a jot, not a jot.

Iago. Trust me, I fear it has.

I hope, you will consider, what is spoke
Comes from my love;-but, I do see you are mov'd:-
I am to pray you, not to strain my speech
To grosser issues, nor to larger reach,
Than to suspicion.

Oth. I will not.

Iago. Should you do so, my lord,
My speech should fall into such vile success
As my thoughts aim not at. Cassio's my worth

friend: :-

My lord, I see you are mov'd.

Oth. No, not much mov'd:

I do not think but Desdemona's honest.

Iago. You cannot, if my heart were in your hand; Iago. Long live she so! and long live you to think so!

Nor shall not, whilst 'tis in my custody.

Oth. Ha!

Iago. O, beware, my lord, of jealousy ;
It is the green-ey'd monster, which doth mock
The meat it feeds on. That cuckold lives in bliss,
Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger;
But, 0, what damned minutes tells he o'er,
Who dotes, yet doubts; suspects, yet strongly loves!
Oth. O misery!

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 exsufficate and blown surmises,
Matching thy 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
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.

Oth. And yet, how nature erring from itself,-
lago. Ay, there's the point. — As,
-to be bold

with you,

Not to affect many proposed matches,
Of her own clime, complexion, and degree;
Wherete, we see, in all things nature tends:
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 judgment,
May fall to match you with her country forms,
And (hapily) repent.

Oth. Farewell, farewell!

If more thou dost perceive, let me know more;
Set on thy wife to observe. Leave me, lago!
Iago. My lord, I take my leave!
[Going
Oth. Why did I marry?—This honest creature,
doubtless,

Sees and knows more, much more, than he unfolds
Iago. My lord, I would, I might entreat your honeer
To scan this thing no further! leave it to time:
And though it be fit, that Cassio have his place,
(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 opportunity;
Much will be seen in that. In the mean time,
Let me be thought too busy in my fears,
(As worthy cause I have, to fear-I am,)

[Exit.

And hold her free, I do beseech your honour.
Oth. Fear not my government.
Iago. I once more take my leave.
Oth. 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 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 declin'd
Into the vale of years; yet that's not much;
She's gone; I am abus'd; and my relief
Must be to loath 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,
Than keep a corner in the thing I love,

For other's uses. Yet, 'tis the plague of great ones;
Prerogativ'd are they less than the base:
'Tis destiny unshunnable, like death;
Even then this forked plague is fated to us,
When we do quicken. Desdemona comes:
Enter DESDEMONA and EMILIA.

If she be false, O, then heaven mocks itself! —
I'll not believe it.

Des. How now, my dear Othello?

Your dinner, and the generous islanders
By you invited, do attend your presence.
Oth. I am to blame.

Des. Why is your speech so faint? are you not well?
Oth. I have a pain upon my forehead here.
Des. Faith, that's with watching; 'twill away again:
Let me but bind it hard, within this hour
It will be well.

Oth. Your napkin is too little;

Give it me again. Poor lady! she'll run mad,
When she shall lack it.

Iago. Be not you known of'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,
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 the first, are scarce found to distaste;
But, with a little act upon the blood,
Burn like the mines of sulphur.

Enter OTHELLO.

I did say so.

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,

[lie puts the handkerchief from him, Farewell the tranquil mind: farewell content!

and it drops.

Let it alone! Come, I'll go in with you!
Des. I am very sorry that you are not well.
[Exeunt Oth. and Des.
Emil. I am glad I have found this napkin;
This was her first remembrance from the Moor;
My wayward husband hath a hundred times
Woo'd me to steal it; but she so loves the token,
(For he conjur'd her, she would ever keep it,)
That she reserves it evermore about her,

To kiss, and talk to. I'll have the work ta'en out,
And give it Jago;

What he'll do with it, heaven knows, not I;
I nothing, but to please his fantasy.

Enter IAGO.

Iago. A good wench; give it me!

Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars,
That make ambitiou 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 hadst been better have been born a dog,
Than answer my wak'd wrath!
Iago. Is it come to this?

Oth. Make me to see it; 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, -

Oth. 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 amaz'd,
For nothing canst thou to damnation add,
Greater than that.

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!

Emil. What will you do with it, that you have been 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.

Jago. 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. 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!

Iago. And may. But, how? how satisfied, my lord? Would you, the supervisor, grossly gape on? Behold her tupp'd?

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-0, 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.

To tyrannous hate! swell, bosom, with thy fraught,
For 'tis of aspics' tongues!
Iago. Pray, be content!
Oth. O, blood, Jago, blood!

Iago. Patience, I say! your mind, perhaps, may change.

[Kneel

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 I here engage my words! Iago. Do not rise yet! Witness, you ever-burning lights above! You elements that clip us round about! Witness, that here lago doth give up The execution of his wit, hands, heart, To wrong'd Othello's service! let him command, And to obey shall be in me remorse, What bloody work soever.

Oth. I greet thy love,

[Kneels.

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, That Cassio's not alive.

Iago. My friend is dead; 'tis done at your request: But let her live.

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 lieutenant. Iago. I am your own for ever.

SCENE IV.- The same.

[Exeunt

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

Clo. I dare not say, he lies any
Des. Why, man?

where.

Clo. He is a soldier; and for me to say a soldier lies is stabbing.

Des. Go to; where lodges he?

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

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

Clo. I will catechise the world for him; that is, make

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

will be well.

Iago. Nay, but be wise; yet we see nothing done; questions, and by them answer.
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 hers, 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,

and therefore I will attempt the doing it.
Clo. To do this, is within the compass of man's wit;
Des. Where should I lose that handkerchief, Emilia?
Emil. I know not, madam!

Des. Believe me, I had rather have lost my purse
Full of cruzadoes. 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.

Emil. Is he not jealous?

Des. Who, he? I think the sun, where he was born, Drew all such humours from him.

Emil. Look, where he comes.

Des. I will not leave him

Be call'd to him.-How is't with you, my lord?
Enter OTHELLO.

Oth. Well, my good lady :-[Aside.] O, hardness to dissemble!

How do you,

Desdemona?

Des. Well, my good lord!

Oth. Give me your hand! This hand is moist, my lady!

Des. It yet has felt no age, nor known no sorrow. Oth. 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.

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. What promise, chuck?

Des. I have sent to bid Cassio come speak with you. Oth. I have a salt and sullen rheum offends me; Lend me thy handkerchief.

Des. Here, my lord!

Oth. That which I gave you.

Des. I have it not about me.

Oth. Not?

Des. No, indeed, my lord!

Oth. That is 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 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 give't away, were such perdition,
As nothing else could match.

Des. It is 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 it out of the way?

Des. Heaven bless us !
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.

Iago. There is no other way; 'tis she must do't; And, lo, the happiness! go, and impórtune her. Des. How now, good Cassio? what's the news with you?

Cas. 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 duty of my heart,
Entirely honour; I would not be delay'd:
If my offence be of such mortal kind,

That neither service past, nor present sorrows,
Nor purpos'd merit in futurity,

Can ransome me into his love again,
But to know so must be my benefit;

So shall I clothe me in a forc'd content,
And shut myself up in some other course,
To fortune's alms.

Des. 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 favour, as in humour, alter'd.

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 speech! You must a while 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?

Emil. He went hence but now, And, certainly, in strange unquietness. Iago. Can he be angry? I have seen the cannon, When it hath blown his ranks into the air; And, like the devil, from his very arm Puff'd his own brother; and can he be angry Something of moment, then: I will go meet him; There's matter in't indeed, if he be angry. Des. I pr'ythee, do so!-Something, sure, of state,[Exit Iago. Either from Venice; or some unhatch'd practice, Made demonstrable here in Cyprus to him,Hath puddled his clear spirit: and, in such cases, Men's natures wrangle with inferior things, Though great ones are their object. 'Tis even so; For let our finger ache, and it endues

Our other healthful members ev'n to that sense
Of pain. Nay, we must think, men are not gods;
Nor of them look for such observances

As fit the bridal. — Beshrew me much, Emilia,
I was (unhandsome warrior as I am,)

Oth. Fetch me that handkerchief; my mind mis- Arraigning his unkindness with my soul;

gives.

Des. Come, come!

But now I find, I had suborn'd the witness, And he's indited falsely.

Thou said'st, O, it comes o'er my memory,
As doth the raven o'er the infected house,
Boding to all, he had my handkerchief.
Iago. Ay, what of that?

Oth. 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,
Convinc'd or supplied them, cannot choose

I have this while with leaden thoughts been press'd; But they must blab
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.

Bian. O Cassio, whence came this? This is some token from a newer friend. To the felt absence now I feel a cause: Is it come to this? Well, well!

Cas. Woman, go to!

Throw your vile guesses in the devil's teeth,
From whence you have them. You are jealous now,
That this is from some mistress, some
brance:

No, in good troth, Bianca!

Bian. Why, whose is it?

Oth. Hath he said any thing?

Iago. He hath, my lord! but be you well assar'd No more than he'll unswear.

Oth. What hath he said?

Iago. 'Faith, that he did, I know not what he did.

Oth. What?`what?

Iago. Lie

Oth. With her?

some.

will.

Iago. With her, on her; what you Oth. Lie with her! lie on her!We say, lie on remem-her, when they belie her: lie with her! that's ful - Handkerchief, handker confessions, chief. 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 shake me thus:- Pish!-Noses, ears, and lips! Is it possible? - Confess! - Handker [Falls in a trance.

Cas. I know not, sweet: 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 :
Take it, and do't; and leave me for this time.
Bian. Leave you! wherefore?

Cas. I do attend here on the general;

And think it no addition, nor my wish,
To have him see me woman'd.

Bian. Why, I pray you?

Cas. Not that I love you not.

Bian. 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.

Cas. 'Tis but a little way, that I can bring you,
For I attend here: but I'll see you soon.
Bian. 'Tis very good; I must be circumstanc'd.

[Exeunt.

Iago. Or to be naked with her friend abed, An hour, or more, not meaning any harm?

chief! O devil!

Iago. Work on,

My medicine, work! Thus credulous fools are

caught;

And many worthy and chaste dames, even thus, lord! All guiltless meet reproach. What, ho! my

Enter CASSIO.

My lord, I say! Othello!- How now, Cassio?

Cas. What is the matter?

Iago. My lord is fallen into an epilepsy;
This is his second fit; he had one yesterday.
Cas. 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?

Oth. Dost thou mock me? Iago. I mock you! no, by heaven! 'Would, you would bear your fortunes like a man.

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