Des.

Do you know, sirrah, where lieutenant Cassio lies?

Clo.

I dare not say, he lies any where.

Des.

Why, man?

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^{4 note} 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 catechize the world for him; that is, make questions, and by them answer^{5 note}

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^{6 note}

.

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^{7 note}

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 now, till Cassio
Be call'd to him^{8 note}
.—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^{9 note}

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^{2 note}

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^{9 note}

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^{1 note}

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^{3 note}

Des.
Is it possible?

Oth.
'Tis true: there's magick in the web of it:
A sibyl^{4 note}

, that had number'd in the world
The sun to make^{5 note}

In her prophetick fury sew'd the work:
The worms were hallow'd, that did breed the silk;
And it was died in mummy^{6 note}

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^{8 note}?

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.

Oth.
Fetch me that handkerchief: my mind misgives.

Des.
Come, come;
You'll never meet a more sufficient man.

Oth.
The handkerchief,—

Des.
I pray, talk me of Cassio^{9 note}.

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.

Oth.
Away! [Exit Othello.

Emil.
Is not this man jealous?

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 shows us a man^{1 note}

They are all but stomachs, and we all but food;
They eat us hungerly, and when they are full,
They belch us. Look you! Cassio, and my husband. Enter Iago and Cassio.

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^{2 note}

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^{3 note}

;
So shall I clothe me in a forc'd content,
And shut myself up in some other course,
To fortune's alms^{4 note}

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^{5 note}

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^{7 note}
;
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^{8 note},
Made démonstrable 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 indues
Our other healthful members ev'n to that sense
Of pain^{9 note}

Nor of them look for such observances
As fit the bridal^{1 note}

Emil.
Pray heaven, it be state matters, as you think;
And no conception, nor no jealous toy,
Concerning you.

Des.
Alas, the day! I never gave him cause.

Emil.
But jealous souls will not be answer'd so;
They are not ever jealous for the cause,
But jealous for they are jealous: 'tis a monster,
Begot upon itself, born on itself.

Des.
Heaven keep that monster from Othello's mind!

Emil.
Lady, amen.

Des.
I will go seek him.—Cassio, walk hereabout:

If I do find him fit, I'll move your suit,
And seek to effect it to my uttermost.

Cas.
I humbly thank your ladyship. [Exeunt Desdemona and Emilia. Enter Bianca.

Bian.
Save you, friend Cassio!

Cas.
What makes you from home?
How is it with you, my most fair Bianca?
I'faith, sweet love, I was coming to your house.

Bian.
And I was going to your lodging, Cassio.
What! keep a week away? seven days and nights?
Eight score eight hours? and lovers' absent hours,
More tedious than the dial eight score times?
O weary reckoning!

Cas.
Pardon me, Bianca;
I have this while with leaden thoughts been press'd;
But I shall, in a more continuate time^{3 note}

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.
Go to, woman^{5 note}

Bian.
Why, whose is it?

Cas.
I know not, sweet† ^note: 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^{6 note}?

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^{7 note}