SCENE I.
Before Othello's Palace.
Enter Cassio, with Musicians.
Cassio.
Masters, play here,—I will content your pains,—
Something that's brief; and bid, Good-morrow, General.
[Musick plays; and enter Clown from the House.
-- 385 --
Clown.
7 noteWhy, masters, have your instruments been
in Naples, that they speak i' th' nose thus?
Mus.
How, Sir, how?
Clown.
Are these, I pray you, wind instruments?
Mus.
Ay, marry are they, Sir.
Clown.
Oh, thereby hangs a tail.
Mus.
Whereby hangs a tale, Sir?
Clown.
Marry, Sir, by many a wind-instrument
that I know. But, Masters, here's mony for you:
and the General so likes your musick, that he desires
you of all loves to make no more noise with it.
Mus.
Well, Sir, we will not.
Clown.
If you have any musick that may not be
heard, to't again; but, as they say, to hear musick
the General does not greatly care.
Mus.
We have none such, Sir.
Clown.
Then put up your pipes in your bag, 8 notefor
I'll away. Go. Vanish into air. Away.
[Exeunt Mus.
Cas.
Dost thou hear, mine honest friend?
Clown.
No, I hear not your honest friend; I hear
you.
Cas.
Pr'ythee, keep up thy quillets. There's a poor
piece of gold for thee. If the gentlewoman, that
attends the General's wife, be stirring, tell her,
there's one Cassio entreats of her a little favour of
speech. Wilt thou do this?
Clown.
She is stirring, Sir, if she will stir hither.
I shall seem to notify unto her.
[Exit Clown.
Cas.
Do, my good friend.
To him, enter Iago.
In happy time, Iago.
-- 386 --
Iago.
You have not been abed then?
Cas.
Why, no; the day had broke before we parted.
I have made bold to send in to your wife;
My suit to her
Is, that she will to virtuous Desdemona
Procure me some access.
Iago.
I'll send her presently;
And I'll devise a mean to draw the Moor
Out of the way, that your converse and business
May be more free.
[Exit.
Cas.
I humbly thank you for't. I never knew
A Florentine more kind and honest.
To him, enter Æmilia.
Æmil.
Good-morrow, good lieutenant. I am sorry
For your displeasure; but all will, sure, be well.
The General and his wife are talking of it:
And she speaks for you stoutly. The Moor replies,
That he, you hurt, is of great fame in Cyprus,
And great affinity; and that in wholesome wisdom
He might not but refuse you. But he protests, he loves you;
And needs no other suitor, but his likings,
“To take the first occasion by the front
To bring you in again.
Cas.
Yet I beseech you,
If you think fit, or that it may be done,
Give me advantage of some brief discourse
With Desdemona alone.
Æmil.
Pray you, come in;
I will bestow you where you shall have time
To speak your bosom freely.
Cas.
I am much bound to you.
[Exeunt.
-- 387 --
SCENE II.
Enter Othello, Iago, and Gentlemen.
Oth.
These letters give, Iago, to the pilot,
And by him do my duties to the senate;
That done, I will be walking on the Works,
Repair there to me.
Iago.
My good Lord, I'll do't.
Oth.
This fortification, gentlemen—shall we see't?
Gent.
We'll wait upon your Lordship.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.
Changes to an Apartment in the Palace.
Enter Desdemona, Cassio, and Æmilia.
Des.
Be thou assur'd, good Cassio, I will do
All my abilities in thy behalf.
Æmil.
Good Madam, do. I know, it grieves my husband
As if the cause were his.
Des.
Oh, that's an honest fellow. Doubt not, Cassio,
But I will have my Lord and you again
As friendly as you were.
Cas.
Most bounteous Madam,
Whatever shall become of Michael Cassio,
He's never any thing but your true servant.
Des.
I know't; I thank you. You do love my Lord;
You've known him long; and, be you well assur'd,
He shall in strangeness stand no farther off
Than in a politick distance.
Cas.
Ay, but, lady,
-- 388 --
9 noteThat policy may either last so long,
Or feed upon such nice and waterish diet,
Or breed itself so out of circumstances,
That I being absent, and my place supply'd.
My General will forget my love and service.
Des.
Do not doubt that; before Æmilia here,
I give thee warrant of thy Place. Assure thee,
If I do vow a friendship, I'll perform it
To the last article. My Lord shall never rest;
1 noteI'll watch him tame, and talk him out of patience;
His bed shall seem a school, his board a shrift;
I'll intermingle every thing he does
With Cassio's suit; therefore be merry, Cassio;
For thy sollicitor shall rather die,
Than give thy cause away.
SCENE IV.
Enter Othello, and Iago, at distance.
Æmil.
Madam, here comes my Lord.
Cas.
Madam, I'll take my leave.
Des.
Why, stay, and hear me speak.
Cas.
Madam, not now. I am very ill at ease,
Unfit for mine own purposes.
Des.
Well, do your discretion.
[Exit Cassio.
Iago.
Hah! I like not that.—
Oth.
What dost thou say?
-- 389 --
Iago.
Nothing, my Lord; or if—I know not what.
Oth.
Was not that Cassio, parted from my wife?
Iago.
Cassio, my Lord? no, sure, I cannot think it,
That he would steal away so guilty-like,
Seeing you coming.
Oth.
I believe, 'twas he.
Des.
How now, my Lord?
I have been talking with a suitor here,
A man that languishes in your displeasure,
Oth.
Who is't you mean?
Des.
Why, your lieutenant Cassio. Good my Lord,
If I have any grace, or power to move you,
2 note
His present reconciliation take.
For if he be not one that truly loves you,
That errs in ignorance, 3 noteand not in cunning,
I have no judgment in an honest face.
I pr'ythee, call him back.
Oth.
Went he hence now?
Des.
I'sooth, so humbled,
That he hath left part of his grief with me,
To suffer with him. Good love, call him back.
Oth.
Not now, sweet Desdemona; some other time.
Des.
But shall't be shortly?
Oth.
The sooner, Sweet, for you.
Des.
Shall't be to-night at supper?
Oth.
Not to night.
Des.
To-morrow dinner then?
Oth.
I shall not dine at home.
I meet the Captains at the citadel.
Des.
Why then to-morrow night, or Tuesday morn,
-- 390 --
Or Tuesday noon, or night, or Wednesday morn,
I pr'ythee, name the time; but let it not
Exceed three days; in faith, he's penitent,
And yet his trespass, in our common reason,
Save that, they say, 4 note
the wars must make examples
Out of their best, is not almost a fault
T' incur a private check. When shall he come?
Tell me, Othello. I wonder in my soul,
What you would ask me, that I would deny,
Or stand so mummering on? What? Michael Cassio!
That came a wooing with you, and many a time,
When I have spoke of you dispraisingly,
Hath ta'en your part, to have so much to do
To bring him in? Trust me, I could do much—
Oth.
Pr'ythee, no more. Let him come when he will,
I will deny thee nothing.
Des.
Why, this is not a boon.
'Tis as I should entreat you wear your gloves,
Or feed on nourishing meats, or keep you warm;
Or sue to you, to do peculiar profit
To your own person. Nay, when I have suit,
Wherein I mean to touch your love indeed,
It shall be full of poise and difficulty,
And fearful to be granted.
Oth.
I will deny thee nothing;
Whereon I do beseech thee, grant me this,
To leave me but a little to myself.
Des.
Shall I deny you? No. Farewel, my Lord.
Oth.
Farewel, my Desdemona; I'll come straight.
Des.
Æmilia, come. Be as your fancies teach you:
Whate'er you be, I am obedient.
[Exeunt.
-- 391 --
SCENE V.
Manent Othello, and Iago.
Oth.
5 note
Excellent Wretch!—Perdition catch my soul,
But I do love thee; and 6 note
when I love thee not,
Chaos is come again.
Iago.
My noble Lord,—
Oth.
What dost thou say, Iago?
Iago.
Did Michael Cassio, when you woo'd my lady,
Know of your love?
Oth.
He did, from first to last. Why dost thou ask?
-- 392 --
Iago.
But for a satisfaction of my thought,
No farther harm.
Oth.
Why of thy thought, Iago?
Iago.
I did not think, he had been acquainted with it.
Oth.
Oh, 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.
Honest? ay, honest.
Iago.
My Lord, for aught I know.
Oth.
What dost thou think?
Iago.
Think, my Lord!—
Oth.
Think, my Lord! why dost thou echo me;
As if there were some monster in thy thought,
Too hideous to be shewn? 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 didst contract and purse thy brow together,
As if thou then hadst shut up in thy brain
Some horrible conceit. If thou dost love me,
Shew me thy thought.
Iago.
My Lord, you know, I love you.
Oth.
I think, thou dost:
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,
Are tricks of custom; but, in a man that's just,
-- 393 --
7 note
They're close dilations working from the heart,
That passion cannot rule.
Iago.
For Michael Cassio,
I dare be sworn, I think, that he is honest.
Oth.
I think so too.
Iago.
Men should be what they seem;
8 note
Or, those that be not, 'would they might seem none!
Oth.
Certain, men should be what they seem.
Iago.
Why, then, I think, Cassio's an honest man.
Oth.
Nay, yet there's more in this;
I pray thee, speak to me as to thy thinkings,
As thou dost ruminate; and give thy worst of thoughts
The worst of words.
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're vile and false;
-- 394 --
As where's that Palace, whereinto foul things
Sometimes intrude not? Who has a breast so pure,
But some uncleanly apprehensions
9 note
Keep leets and law-days, and in sessions sit
With meditations lawful?
Oth.
Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago,
If thou but think'st him wrong'd, and mak'st his ear
A stranger to thy thoughts.
Iago.
I do beseech you,
1 note
Though, I—perchance, am vicious in my guess,
As, I confess, it is my nature's plague
To spy into abuse; and oft my jealousy
Shapes faults that are not; I intreat you then,
From one that so 2 note
improbably conceits,
Your wisdom would not build yourself a trouble
Out of my scattering and unsure observance.
It were not for your quiet, nor your good,
Nor for my manhood, honesty, and 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.
-- 395 --
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.
I'll know thy thoughts—
Iago.
You cannot, if my heart were in your hand;
Nor shall not, whilst 'tis in my custody.
Oth.
Ha!
Iago.
Oh, beware, my Lord, of jealousy;
It is a green-ey'd monster, 3 note
which doth make
The meat it feeds on. That cuckold lives in bliss,
Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger;
But, oh, what damned minutes tells he o'er,
Who doats, yet doubts; suspects, yet strongly loves!
Oth.
Oh misery!
Iago.
Poor, and content, is rich, and rich enough;
4 noteBut riches fineless is 5 noteas poor as winter,
To him that ever fears he shall be poor.
-- 396 --
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
6 noteTo such exsuffolate 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;
7 note
Where virtue is, these are most 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.
Iago.
I am glad of this; for now I shall have reason
-- 397 --
To shew 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
8 noteOut of self-bounty be abus'd; look to't;
I know 9 note
our country-disposition well;
In Venice they do let heaven see the pranks,
They dare not shew their husbands; their best conscience
Is not to leave't undone, but keep't unknown.
Oth.
Dost thou say so?
Iago.
She did deceive her father, marrying you;
1 note
And when she seem'd to shake, and fear your looks,
She lov'd them most.
Oth.
And so she did.
Iago.
Go to, then;
She, that, so young, could give out such a Seeming
2 note
To seal her father's eyes up, close as oak—
-- 398 --
He thought, 'twas witchcraft—But I'm much to blame:
I humbly do beseech you of your pardon,
For too much loving you.
Oth.
I'm 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're mov'd—
I am to pray you, not to strain my speech
3 noteTo grosser issues, nor to larger reach,
Than to suspicion.
Oth.
I will not.
Iago.
Should you do so, my Lord,
4 note
My speech would fall into such vile success,
As my thoughts aim not at. Cassio's my worthy friend.
My Lord, I see, you're mov'd—
Oth.
No, not much mov'd—
I do not think, but Desdemona's honest.
Iago.
Long live she so! and long live you to think so!
Oth.
And yet, how nature erring from itself—
Iago.
Ay, there's the point; as, to be bold with you,
Not to affect many proposed matches
Of her own clime, complexion and degree,
Whereto we see in all things Nature tends,
Foh! one may smell, in such, a 5 notewill most rank,
-- 399 --
Foul disproportions, thoughts unnatural.
But, pardon me, I do not in position
Distinctly speak of her; tho' I may fear,
Her will, recoiling to her better judgment,
May fall to match you with her country forms,
And, haply, so repent.
Oth.
Farewel, farewel;
If more thou dost perceive, let me know more:
Set on thy wife t'observe. Leave me, Iago.
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 Honour
To scan this thing no farther; leave it to time:
Altho' 'tis 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,
6 noteYou shall by that perceive him, and his means,
Note, if your lady 7 notestrain his entertainment
With any strong, or vehement importunity;
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;
And hold her free, I do beseech your honour.
Oth.
8 noteFear not my government.
Iago.
I once more take my leave.
[Exit.
-- 400 --
SCENE VI.
Manet Othello.
Oth.
This fellow's of exceeding honesty,
And knows all qualities, 9 note
with a learned spirit,
Of human dealings. 1 noteIf I prove her haggard,
2 noteTho' that her jesses were my dear heart-strings,
3 note
I'd whistle her off, and let her down the wind
To prey at fortune. Haply, for I'm 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. Oh the 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 others' use. Yet 'tis the plague of Great ones;
Prerogativ'd are they less than the base;
'Tis destiny unshunnable, like death.
Ev'n then, this 4 note
forked plague is fated to us,
-- 401 --
When we do quicken. Desdemona comes!
Enter Desdemona and Æmilia.
If she be false, oh, then heaven mocks itself:
I'll not believe't.
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 do you speak so faintly?
Are you not well?
Oth.
I have a pain upon my forehead here.
Des.
Why, 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.
[She drops her handkerchief.
Let it alone. Come, I'll go in with you.
Des.
I am very sorry, that you are not well.
[Exeunt.
SCENE VII.
Manet Æmilia.
Æmil.
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 should ever keep it,
That she reserves it evermore about her,
To kiss and talk to. I'll have the work ta'en out,
And giv't Iago;
What he'll do with it, heav'n knows, not I:
I nothing know, but for his fantasy.
-- 402 --
Enter Iago.
Iago.
How now? what do you here alone?
Æmil.
Do not you chide; I have a thing for you.
Iago.
You have a thing for me?
It is a common thing—
Æmil.
Ha?
Iago.
To have a foolish wife.
Æmil.
Oh, is that all? What will you give me now
For that same handkerchief?
Iago.
What handkerchief?
Æmil.
What handkerchief?
Why, that the Moor first gave to Desdemona;
That which so often you did bid me steal.
Iago.
Hast stolen it from her?
Æmil.
No; but she let it drop by negligence;
And, 5 noteto th' advantage, I, being here, took 't up.
Look, here 'tis,
Iago.
A good wench, give it me.
Æmil.
What will you do with 't, you have been so earnest
To have me filch it?
Iago.
Why, what is that to you?
[Snatching it.
Æmil.
If 't be not for some purpose of import,
Give 't me again. Poor lady! she'll run mad
When she shall lack it.
Iago.
6 note
Be not you known on 't:
I have use for it. Go, leave me—
[Exit Æmil.
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.
-- 403 --
The Moor already changes with my poisons:
Dang'rous conceits are in their nature poisons,
Which at the first are scarce found to distaste;
But, with a little act upon the blood,
Burn like the mines of sulphur.—I did say so.
SCENE VIII.
Enter Othello.
Look, where he comes! Not Poppy, nor Mandragora,
Nor all the drowsy Syrups of the world,
7 note
Shall ever med'cine thee to that sweet Sleep,
Which thou owedst yesterday.
Oth.
Ha! False? To me! to me!
Iago.
Why, how now, General? No more of that.
Oth.
Avant! be gone! thou'st set me on the rack.
I swear, 'tis better to be much abus'd,
Than but to know't a little.
Iago.
How, my Lord?
Oth.
What sense had I of her stoll'n hours or lust?
I saw 't 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 stoll'n,
Let him not know't, and he's not robb'd at all.
Iago.
I am sorry to hear this.
Oth.
I had been happy, if the general Camp,
-- 404 --
Pioneers and all, had tasted her sweet body,
So I had nothing known. Oh now, for ever
Farewel the tranquil mind, farewel content,
Farewel the plumed troops, and the big war,
That makes ambition virtue! oh, farewel!
8 note
Farewel the neighing steed, and the shrill trump,
The spirit-stirring drum, th' ear-piercing fife,
The royal banner, and all quality,
Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war!
And, oh, you mortal engines, whose rude throats
Th' immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit,
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 mine 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,
-- 405 --
Never pray more; 9 note
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.
Oh grace! oh heaven 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 shouldst be honest—
Iago.
I should be wise, for honesty's a fool,
And loses what it works for.
Oth.
1 noteBy the world,
I think, my wife is 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 my own face. If there be cords, or knives,
Poison, or fire, or suffocating streams,
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 tupp'd?
-- 406 --
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,
2 noteWere 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 hav't.
Oth.
3 noteGive me a living reason she's disloyal.
Iago.
I do not like the office;
But since I'm enter'd 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.—
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 pluckt 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.
-- 407 --
Oth.
But this denoted 4 notea foregone conclusion;
5 note
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 we wise; 6 noteyet 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.
7 note
Now do I see, 'tis true.—Look here, Iago,
All my fond love thus do I blow to heav'n:
'Tis gone;—
-- 408 --
Arise, black vengeance, from thy 8 note
hollow cell!
Yield up, oh love, thy crown and 9 note
hearted throne
To tyrannous hate! 1 noteswell, bosom, with thy fraught,
For 'tis of aspicks' tongues.
Iago.
Yet be content.
Oth.
Oh blood, blood, blood—
Iago.
Patience, I say; your mind, perhaps, may change.
Oth.
Never, Iago. 2 noteLike 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 heav'n,
In the due reverence of a sacred vow
[He kneels.
I here engage my words—
Iago.
Do not rise yet.
[Iago kneels.
-- 409 --
Witness, ye ever-burning lights above!
Ye 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. 3 note
Let him command,
And to obey, shall be in me Remorse,
What bloody business ever.
-- 410 --
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.
My friend is dead;
'Tis done at your request. But, let her live.
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.
-- 411 --
SCENE IX.
Another Apartment in the Palace.
Enter Desdemona, Æmilia, and Clown.
Des.
Do you know, sirrah, where Lieutenant Cassio lies?
Clown.
I dare not say, he lies any where.
Des.
Why, man?
Clown.
He's a soldier; and for me to say, a soldier
lies, 'tis stabbing.
Des.
Go to; where lodges he?
Clown.
To tell you where he lodges, is to tell you
where I lie.
Des.
Can any thing be made of this?
Clown.
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 mine own throat.
Des.
Can you enquire him out? and be edified by
report?
4 noteClown.
I will catechize the world for him; that is,
make questions, and bid them answer.
Des.
Seek him, bid him come hither; tell him, I
have mov'd my Lord on his behalf, and hope, all will
be well.
Clown.
To do this is within the compass of man's
wit, and therefore I will attempt the doing of it.
[Exit Clown.
Des.
Where should I lose that handkerchief, Æmilia?
-- 412 --
Æmil.
I know not, Madam.
Des.
Believe me, I had rather have lost my purse
Full of 5 note
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.
Æmil.
Is he not jealous?
Des.
Who, he? I think, the Sun, where he was born,
Drew all such humours from him.
Æmil.
Look, where he comes.
Des.
I will not leave him now, till Cassio be
Call'd to him. How is't with you, my Lord?
SCENE X.
Enter Othello.
Oth.
Well, my good lady. [Aside.] Oh, hardness to dissemble!
How do you, Desdemona?
Des.
Well, my Lord.
Oth.
Give me your hand. This hand is moist, my lady.
Des.
It yet hath 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.
-- 413 --
Oth.
A liberal hand. 6 note
The hearts, of old, gave hands;
But our new heraldry is hands, not hearts.
Des.
I cannot speak of this. Come, now your promise.
-- 414 --
Oth.
What promise, chuck?
Des.
I've sent to bid Cassio come speak with you.
Oth.
I have a 7 note
salt and sorry 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's a fault. That handkerchief
Did an Ægyptian 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, subdue my father
Intirely to her love; but if she lost it,
Or made a gift of it, my father's eye
Should hold her loathed, and his spirits hunt
After new fancies. She, dying, gave it me;
And bid me, when my fate would have me wiv'd,
To give it her. I did so; and take heed on't;
Make it a darling, like your precious eye;
To lose 't, or giv 't away, were such perdition,
As nothing else could match.
Des.
Is't possible?
Oth.
'Tis true; there's magic in the web of it;
A Sybil, that had 8 note
numbred in the world
The Sun to course two hundred compasses,
In her prophetick fury sew'd the Work:
-- 415 --
The worms were hallowed, that did breed the silk;
And it was dy'd in Mummey, 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't!
Oth.
Ha? wherefore?
Des.
Why do you speak so startingly, and 9 noterash?
Oth.
Is't lost? is't gone? speak, is it out o' th' way?
Des.
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't.
Des.
Why, so I can, Sir; but I will not now.
This is a trick to put me from my suit,
Pray you, let Cassio be receiv'd again.
Oth.
Fetch me the handkerchief. My mind misgives.
Des.
Come, you'll ne'er meet a more sufficient man.
Oth.
The handkerchief—
Des.
I pray talk me of Cassio.
Oth.
The handkerchief—
Des.
A man, that, all his time,
Hath founded his good fortunes on your love;
Shar'd dangers with you.
Oth.
The handkerchief—
Des.
Insooth, you are to blame.
Oth.
Away!—
[Exit Othello.
-- 416 --
SCENE XI.
Manent Desdemona and Æmilia.
Æmil.
Is not this man jealous?
Des.
I ne'er saw this before.
Sure, there's some wonder in this handkerchief:
I'm most unhappy in the loss of it.
Æmil.
1 note'Tis not a year, or two, shews us a man:
They are all but stomachs, and we all but food;
They eat us hungerly, and, when they're 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 importune 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;
-- 417 --
Whom I, with all 2 note
the duty of my heart,
Intirely 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 ransom me into his love again;
3 note
But to know so, must be my benefit.
So shall I clothe me in a forc'd content,
4 note
And shoot 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 5 notein favour, as in humour, alter'd.
So help me every spirit sanctified,
As I have spoken for you all my best;
And stood 6 notewithin 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?
Æmil.
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,
-- 418 --
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 XII.
Manent Desdemona, Æmilia, and Cassio.
Des.
I pr'ythee, do so.—Something, sure, of State,
Either from Venice, of 7 notesome unhatch'd practice,
Made here demonstrable in Cyprus to him,
Hath puddled his clear spirit; and, in such cases,
Mens' natures wrangle with inferior things,
Tho' great ones are their object. 'Tis ev'n so.
8 note
For let our finger ake, and it endues
Our other healthful members with a sense
Of pain. Nay, we must think, men are not Gods;
Nor of them look for such observance always,
As fits the bridal. Beshrew me much, Æmilia,
I was, 9 note
unhandsome warrior as I am,
Arraigning his unkindness with my soul;
But now I find, I had suborn'd the witness,
And he's indited falsely.
-- 419 --
Æmil.
Pray heaven, it be
State-matter, as you think; and no conception,
Nor jealous toy concerning you.
Des.
Alas-the-day, I never gave him cause.
Æmil.
But jealous souls will not be answer'd so;
They are not ever jealous for a cause;
But jealous, for they're jealous. It's a monster
Begot upon itself, born on itself.
Des.
Heaven keep that monster from Othello's mind!
Æmil.
Lady, amen.
Des.
I will go seek him. Cassio, walk hereabout;
If I do find him fit, I'll move your suit,
And seek t' effect it to my uttermost.
Cas.
I humbly thank your Ladyship.
[Exeunt Desdemona and Æmilia at one door; Cassio, at the other.
SCENE XIII.
Changes to the Street before the Palace.
Re-enter Cassio, meeting Bianca.
Bian.
Save you, friend Cassio.
Cas.
What makes you from home?
How is it with you, my most fair Bianca?
Indeed, 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?
Eightscore eight hours? and lovers' absent hours,
More tedious than the dial, eightscore times?
Oh weary reck'ning!
Cas.
Pardon me, Bianca:
I have this while with leaden thoughts been prest;
-- 420 --
But I shall in a 1 note
more convenient time
Strike off this score of absence. Sweet Bianca,
[Giving her Desdemona's Handkerchief.
2 noteTake me this work out.
Bian.
Oh Cassio, whence came this?
This is some token from newer friend:
Of thy felt absence now I feel a cause.
Is't come to this? well, well.
Cas.
Go to, woman,
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 remembrance?
No, in good truth, Bianca.
Bian.
Why, whose is it?
Cas.
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?
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?
-- 421 --
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; 3 noteI must be circumstanc'd.
[Exeunt.
Samuel Johnson [1765], The plays of William Shakespeare, in eight volumes, with the corrections and illustrations of Various Commentators; To which are added notes by Sam. Johnson (Printed for J. and R. Tonson [and] C. Corbet [etc.], London) [word count] [S11001].
