Wherein I mean to touch your love indeed, Oth. I will deny thee nothing: Des. Shall I deny you? no: Farewell, my lord. Oth. Farewell, my Desdemona: I will come to thee straight. Des. Emilia, come :-Be it as your fancies teach you; 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, Oth. What dost thou say, Iago? Iago. Good my lord, pardon me; Though I am bound to every act of duty, Iago. Did Michael Cassio, when you woo'd I am not bound to that all slaves are free to. my lady, Know of your love? Oth. He did, from first to last: Why dost thou ask? Iago. 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? Oth. Indeed! ay, indeed :-Discern'st thou aught in that? Is he not honest? Iago. Honest, my lord? Oth. Ay, honest. Iago. My lord, for aught I know. Oth. Think, my lord! By heaven, he echoes me, As if there were some monster in his thought, Too hideous to be shown.-Thou dost mean something: 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, Lugo. My lord, you know I love you. 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, 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 Oth. Thou dost conspire against thy friend, 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, trouble Out of his scattering and unsure observance:- 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. Nor shall not, whilst 'tis in my custody. lago. O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; It is the green-ey'd monster, which doth mock Oth. O misery! Oth. Not a jot, not a jot. I hope, you will consider, what is spoke I am to pray you, not to strain my speech Iugo. Poor and content, is rich, and rich Than to suspicion. But riches, fineless, is as poor as winter, Oth. Why? why is this? Think'st thou, I'd make a life of jealousy, To say-my wife is fair, feeds well, loves com- Is free of speech, sings, plays, and dances well; Iago. I am glad of this; for now I shall have reason To show the love and duty that I bear you conscience Is not to leave undone, but keep unknown. 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 seem- To seel her father's eyes up, close as oak,- I humbly do beseech you of your pardon, For too much loving you. Oth. I am bound to thee for ever. Oth. I will not. Iago. Should you do so, my lord, My speech should fall into such vile success My lord, I see you are mov'd. Oth. No, not much mov'd: I do not think but Desdemona's honest. Oth. And yet, how nature erring from itself,- Not to affect many proposed matches, Oth. Farewell, farewell: If more thou dost perceive, let me know more; Iago. My lord, I take my leave. [Going. Sees and knows more, much more, than he unfolds. Iago. My lord, I would, I might entreat your honour To scan this thing no further; leave it to time: [Exit. Iago. I see, this hath a little dash'd your spirits. Into the vale of years;-yet that's not much ;— She's gone; I am abus'd; and my relief ones; Prerogativ'd are they less than the base: Enter DESDEMONA and EMILIA. If she be false, O, then heaven mocks itself!- Des. How now, my dear Othello? Des. Why is your speech so faint? are you not well? Oth. I have a pain upon my forehead here. Let me but bind it hard, within this hour Oth. Your napkin is too little; [He puts the handkerchief from him, 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 Iago: What he'll do with it, heaven knows, not I; Enter IAGO. Iago. How now! what do you here alone? Iugo. To have a foolish wife. Emil. What will you do with it, that you have been so earnest To have me filch it? Iago. Why, what's that to you? [Snatching it. Lugo. Be not you known of't; I have use for it. Burn like the mines of sulphur.-I did say so: Enter OTHELLO. Look, where he comes! Not poppy, nor man- Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world, Oth. Ha! ha! false to me? Iago. Why, how now, general? no more of Oth. Avaunt! be gone! thou hast set me on I swear, 'tis better to be much abus'd, Iago. How now, my lord? Oth. What sense had I of her stolen hours of I saw it not, thought it not, it harm'd not me: Oth. I had been happy, if the general camp, Emil. O, is that all? What will you give me Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war! now For that same handkerchief? Jugo. What handkerchief? Why, that the Moor first gave to Desdemona; Emil. No, faith, she let it drop by negligence; Jago. A good wench; give it me. And O, you mortal engines, whose rude throats Oth. Villain, be sure thou prove my love s whore ; Be sure of it; give me the ocular proof; lago. Is it come to this? Oth. Make me to see it; or (at the least) so That the probation bear no hinge, nor loop, Oth. If thou dost slander her, and torture me, 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 !- To be direct and honest, is not safe.-- Oth. By the world, I think my wife be honest, and think she is not; 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! But, sith I am enter'd in this cause so far,- There are a kind of men so loose of soul, One of this kind is Cassio: In sleep I heard him say,-Sweet Desdemona, Cry,-O, sweet creature! and then kiss me hard, 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 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, For 'tis of aspics' tongues! Iago. Patience, I say; your mind, perhaps, may change. Oth. Never, Iago. Like to the Pontick sea, Whose icy current and compulsive course Ne'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on To the Propontick, 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. [Kneels. 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. 2 P 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. 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 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. Clo. To do this, is within the compass of man's wit; and therefore I will attempt the doing it. Erit. Des. Where should I lose that handkerchief, 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? Oth. Give me your hand: This hand is moist, my lady. Des. It yet has felt no age, nor known no sor row. Oth. This argues fruitfulness, and liberal heart; Hot, hot, and moist: This hand of yours requires For here's a young and sweating devil here, 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 Des. Is it possible? Oth. 'Tis true: there's magic in the web of it: Des. Who, he? I think the sun, where he was 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. |