Look, where he comes! Not Poppy, nor Mandragora,
Nor all the drowsy Sirups of the world,

^{9 note}

Oth.
Ha! false to me!

Iago.
Why, how now, General? no more of that.

&wlquo;Oth.
&wlquo;Avant! be gone! thou'st set me on the rack:
&wlquo;I swear, 'tis better to be much abus'd,
&wlquo;Than but to know a little.

Iago.
How, my lord?

&wlquo;Oth.
&wlquo;What sense had I of her stol'n hours or lust?
&wlquo;I saw't not, thought it not, it harm'd not me;
&wlquo;I slept the next night well; was free, and merry;
&wlquo;I found not Cassio's kisses on her lips:
He, that is robb'd, not wanting what is stol'n,
Let him not know't, and he's not robb'd at all.

Iago.
I am sorry to hear this.

&wlquo;Oth.
&wlquo;I had been happy, if the general Camp,
&wlquo;(Pioneers and all,) had tasted her sweet body,
&wlquo;So I had nothing known. Oh now, for ever
&wlquo;Farewel the tranquil mind! Farewel content!
&wlquo;Farewel the plumed troops, and the big war,
&wlquo;That make ambition virtue! oh, farewel!
&wlquo;^{1 note}

&wlquo;The royal banner, and all quality,
&wlquo;Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war!
&wlquo;And, oh, you mortal engines, whose rude throats
&wlquo;Th' immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit,
&wlquo;Farewel! Othello's Occupation's gone!

Iago.
Is't possible, my lord?

Oth.
Villain, be sure, thou prove my love a whore;
Be sure of it: give me the ocular proof, [Catching hold on him.
Or, by the worth of man's eternal soul,
Thou hadst been better have been born a dog,
Than answer my wak'd wrath.

Iago.
Is't come to this?

Oth.
Make me to see't; 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; ^{2 note}abandon all remorse;
On horrors head horrors accumulate;
Do deeds to make heav'n weep, all earth amaz'd;
For nothing canst thou to damnation add,
Greater than that.

Iago.
Oh grace! oh heav'n defend me!
Are you a man? have you a soul? or sense?
God be w' you; take mine office. O wretched fool,
That liv'st to make thine honesty a vice!
Oh monstrous world! take note, take note, oh world,
To be direct and honest, is not safe.
I thank you for this profit, and from hence
I'll love no friend, sith love breeds such offence.

Oth.
Nay, stay—thou should'st be honest—

Iago.
I should be wise, for honesty's a fool,
And loses what it works for.

&wlquo;Oth.
&wlquo;^{3 note}By the world,
&wlquo;I think, my wife is honest; and think, she is not;
&wlquo;I think, that thou art just; and think, thou art not;
&wlquo;I'll have some proof. Her name, that was as fresh
&wlquo;As Dian's visage, is now begrim'd and black
&wlquo;As my own face. If there be cords, or knives,
&wlquo;Poison, or fire, or suffocating streams,
&wlquo;I'll not endure't—'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, and will.

Iago.
And may; but how? how satisfied, my lord?
Would you be supervisor, grosly gape on?
Behold her top'd?

Oth.
Death and damnation! oh!

Iago.
It were a tedious difficulty, I think,
To bring 'em 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 might have't.

Oth.
^{4 note}Give me a living reason she's disloyal.

Iago.
I do not like the office;
But since I'm entred in this cause so far,
Prick'd to't 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.—
&wlquo;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—Oh sweet creature! and then kiss me hard,
As if he pluck't up kisses by the roots,
That grew upon my lips; then lay his leg
Over my thigh, and sigh and kiss, and then
Cry, Cursed fate! that gave thee to the Moor.

Oth.
Oh monstrous! monstrous!

Iago.
Nay, this was but his dream.

Oth.
But this denoted ^{5 note}a fore-gone conclusion.

^{6 note}Iago.
'Tis a shrewd doubt, tho' it be but a dream.
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; ^{7 note}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'm 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, if 'twas hers,
It speaks against her with the other proofs.

Oth.
Oh, that the slave had forty thousand lives!
One is too poor, too weak for my Revenge.
&wlquo;^{8 note}

Iago.
Yet be content.

Oth.
Oh blood, blood, blood—

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

Oth.
Never, Iago. ^{3 note}Like 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 heav'n,
In the due rev'rence of a sacred vow [He kneels.
I here engage my words—

Iago.
Do not rise yet: [Iago kneels.
Witness, you ever-burning lights above!
You elements, that clip us round about!
Witness, that here Iago doth give up
The execution of his wit, hands, heart,
To wrong'd Othello's service. ^{4 note}

Oth.
I greet thy love,
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.
^{5 note}

Oth.
Damn her, lewd Minx! oh, damn her, 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. [Exeunt.

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