In her prophetick fury fow'd the work:

The worms were hallowed, that did breed the filk,
And it was dy'd in mummey, which the skilful
Conferv'd of maidens hearts.

Def. Indeed! is't true!

Otb. Moft veritable, therefore look to't well.
Def. Then would to heav'n, that I had never feen't!
Oth. Ha! wherefore?

Def. Why do you speak fo ftartingly, and rash?
Oth. Is't loft? 'is't gone? fpeak, is it out o' th' way?
Def. Blefs us!

Oth. Say you?

Def. It is not loft; but what an if it were?

Oth. Ha!

Def. I fay it is not loft.

Oth. Fetch't, let me fee't.

Def. Why, fo I can, Sir, but I will not now: This is a trick to put me from my fuit,

Pray you let Caffio be receiv'd again.

Oth. Fetch me the handkerchief-my mind mifgivesDef. Come, you'll ne'er meet a more fufficient man. Oth. The handkerchief.

Def. A man that all his time

Hath founded his good fortunes on your love;

Shar'd dangers with you.

Oth. The handkerchief

Def. Infooth you are to blame.

Oth. Away!

[Exit Othello.

Emil. Is not this man jealous?

Def. I ne'er faw this before.

Sure there's fome wonder in this handkerchief:

I'm most unhappy in the lofs of it.

Emil. 'Tis not a year or two fhews us a man:

They are but ftomachs, and we all but food,

Ii 4

They

They eat us hungerly, and when they're full
They belch us. Look you! Caffio, and my husband.
Enter Iago and Caffio.

Iago. There is no other way, 'tis fhe muft do't;
And lo, the happinefs! go and importune her.

Def. How now, good Caffio, what's the news with you? Caf. Madam, my former fuit. I do befeech you, That by your virtuous means I may again

Exift, and be a member of his love,
Whom I, with all the office of my heart,
Intirely honour. I would not be delay'd;
If my offence be of fuch mortal kind,
That not my service paft, nor present forrows,
Nor purpos'd merit in futurity,

Can ranfom me into his love again;

But to know fo, muft be my benefit:

So fhall I cloath me in a forc'd content,

And fhut my felf up in fome other course,
To fortune's alms.

Def. Alas! thrice gentle Caffio.

My advocation is not now in tune;

My Lord is not my Lord; nor fhould I know him, Were he in favour, as in humour alter'd.

So help me every fpirit fanctified,

As I have fpoken for you all my beft,

And flood within the blank of his displeasure

For my free fpeech! you must a-while be patient;

What I can do, I will: and more I will

Than for my felf I dare. Let that fuffice you.
Iago. Is my Lord angry?

Emil. He went hence but now;

And certainly in ftrange 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

Puft 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.

[Exit. SCENE

SCE NE XII.

Manent Desdemona, Æmilia, and Caffio.
Def. I pr'ythee do fo. Something sure of state,
Either from Venice, or fome unhatch'd practice,
Made her demonftrable in Cyprus to him,
Hath puddled his clear fpirit; and in fuch cafes,
Mens natures wrangle with inferior things,
Tho' great ones are their object. 'Tis even fo.
For let our finger ake, and it endues

Our other healthful members with a fenfe

Of pain. Nay, we must think men are not Gods,
Nor of them look for fuch obfervance always,
As fits the bridal. Befhrew me much, Emilia,
I was, unhandfome 3 'wrangler as I am,
Arraigning his unkindness with my foul;
But now I find, I had fuborn'd the witness,
And he's indited falfely.

Emil. Pray heav'n it be

State-matter, as you think, and no conception
Nor jealous toy concerning you.

Def. Alas the day, I never gave him caufe.
Emil. But jealous fouls will not be anfwer'd fo;

They are not ever jealous for a cause.

But jealous, for they're jealous. It's a monster
Begot upon it felf, born on it felf.

Def. Heav'n keep that monfter from Othello's mind
Emil. Lady, amen!

Def. I will go feek him. Caffio, walk hereabout
If I do find him fit, I'll move your fuit,

And feek t'effect it to my uttermoft.

Caf. I humbly thank your Ladyfhip.

SCENE

[Ex. Def, and Emil.

XIII.

Caf. What makes you from home?

How is it with you, my moft fair Bianca?
Indeed, fweet love, I was coming to your houfe.
Bian. And I was going to your lodging, Caffio.
What? keep a week away? feven days and nights?
Eightscore eight hours? and lover's abfent hours,
More tedious than the dial, eightscore times?
Oh weary reck'ning!

Caf. Pardon me, Bianca:

I have this while with leaden thoughts been preft,
But I fhall in a more convenient time

Strike off this fcore of abfence.

Sweet Bianca,

[Giving her Defdemona's Handkerchie

Take me this work out.

Bian. 'Caffio, whence came this?

This is fome token from a newer friend:
Of thy felt abfence now I feel a cause :
Is't come to this? well, well.

Caf. 'Well, go to, woman;

Throw your vile gueffes in the devil's teeth,

From whence you have them.

You are jealous now

That this is from fome miftrefs, fome remembrance:

No, in good troth, Bianca.

Bian. Why, whofe is it?

Caf. I know not neither; 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?

Caf. I do attend here on the General,
And think it no addition, nor my wifh,
To have him fee me woman'd.

Bian. Why, I pray you?

Caf. Not that I love you not.
Bian. 'Nor that you love me.

I pray you bring me on the way a little,
And fay, if I fhall fee you foon at night?

4 Oh Caffio, 5 Go to, 6 But that you do not love me;

Caf.

Caf. 'Tis but a little way that I can bring you, For I attend here. But I'll fee you foon.

Bian. 'Tis very good; I must be circumftanc'd.

[Exeunt.

ACT IV. SCENE I.

A Room of State.

Enter Othello, and Iago.

ILL you think fo?

WI

IAGO.

Oth. Think fo, Iago?

Iago. What, to kifs in private?

Othel. An unauthoriz'd kiss?

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

Oth. Naked in bed, Iago, and not mean harm?

It is hypocrifie against the devil :

They that mean virtuously, and yet do so,

The devil their virtue 7 'tempts not, they tempt heav'n. Iago. If they do nothing, 'tis a venial flip:

But if I give my wife a handkerchief

Oth. What then?

Iago. Why then, 'tis hers, my Lord, and being hers, She may, I think, beftow't on any man.

8

Oth. She is proprietor of her honour too;

May the give that?

Iago. Her honour is an effence that's not feen,
They have it very oft, that have it not.

But for the handkerchief

Oth. By heav'n, I would moft gladly have forgot its

Thou faidft,-oh, it comes o'er my memory,

7 tempts, and they tempt... old edit. Warb. emend.
8 prote&refs... old edit. Warb. emend.

As