Des.
Be thou assur'd, good Cassio, I will do
All my abilities in thy behalf.

Emi.
Good madam, do; I warr'nt, it ^note grieves my husband,
As if the case ^note were his.

Des.
O, that's an honest fellow.—Do not doubt, 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.
O, sir, I ^note thank you: You do love my lord;
You have known him long; and be you well assur'd ^note,
He shall in strangeness ^note stand no farther off,
Than in a politick distance.

Cas.
Ay, but, lady,
That policy ^note may either last so long,
Or feed upon such nice and wat'rish diet,

Or breed itself so out of circumstance ^note,
That, I being absent, and my place supply'd,
My general will forget my love and service.

Des.
Do not doubt that; before Emilia 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,
I'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. ^note Enter Othello, at a Distance; Iago with him.

Emi.
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 ^note.

Des.
Well, well,
Do your discretion. [Exit Cassio.

Iag.
Ha! I like not that.

Oth.
What dost thou say?

Iag.
Nothing, my lord: Or if—I know not what.

Oth.
Was not that Cassio, parted from my wife?

Iag.
Cassio, my lord? No, sure, I cannot think it,
That he would steal away ^note so guilty-like,
Seeing you coming ^note.

Oth.
I do believe, 'twas he.

Des.
How now, my lord? [going towards him.
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,
His present reconciliation take ^note;
For, if he be not one that truly loves you,
That errs in ignorance, and not in cunning,
I have no judgment in an honest face:
I pr'ythee, call him back.

Oth.
Went he hence now?

Des.
Ay, sooth; so humbl'd, ^note
That he hath left part of his grief ^note with me,
To suffer ^note 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. ^note
Shall't be to-night at supper?

Oth.
No, 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 ^note morn;
Or tuesday noon, or ^note night; or we'nsday ^note morn;—
I pray thee ^note, name the time; but let it not
Exceed three days: In faith ^note, he's penitent;
And yet his trespass, in our common reason,
(Save that, they say, the war ^note must make examples ^note
Out of her best) is not almost a fault
To incur a private check: When shall he come?
Tell me, Othello. I wonder in my soul,
What you could ask ^note me, that I should deny ^note,
Or stand so mamm'ring ^{note note} on. What! Michael Cassio,

That came a wooing with you; and many ^note 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 ^note 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 dishes, or keep you warm,
Or sue to you to do peculiar ^note profit
To your own person: Nay, when I have a suit,
Wherein I mean to touch your love indeed,
It shall be full of poize and difficulty ^note,
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 will come to thee straight.

Des.
Emilia, come:—Be it as ^note your fancies teach you;
Whate'er you be, I am obedient. [Exit, with Emi.

Oth.
Excellent wretch!14Q1505 Perdition catch my soul,
But I do love thee! and when I love thee not,
Chaos is come again.

Iag.
My noble lord,—

Oth.
What dost thou say, Iago?

Iag.
Did Michael Cassio, when you woo'd ^note my lady,
Know of your love?

Oth.
He did, from first to last: Why dost thou ask?

Iag.
But for a ^note satisfaction of my thought ^note,

No further harm.

Oth.
Why of thy thought, Iago?

Iag.
I did not think, he had been acquainted with it. ^note

Oth.
O, yes; and went between us very oft ^note.

Iag.
Indeed?

Oth.
Indeed? ay ^note, indeed; Discern'st thou aught in that?
Is he not honest?

Iag.
Honest, my lord?

Oth.
Honest? ay, honest.

Iag.
My lord, for aught I know.

Oth.
What dost thou think?

Iag.
Think, my lord?

Oth.
Think, my lord?—By heaven, he ecchoes ^note me,
As if there were some monster in his thought ^note,
Too hideous to be shewn ^note.—Thou dost ^note mean something:
I heard thee say but now ^note,—Thou lik'dst not that,
When Cassio left my wife; What didst not like?
And, when I told thee,—he was of my counsel,
In my ^note 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: ^note If thou dost love me,
Shew me thy thought.

Iag.
My lord, you know I love you.

Oth.
I think, thou dost;
And ^note,—for I know thou'rt ^note full of love and honesty,
And weigh'st thy words before thou giv'st ^note them breath,—
Therefore these stops of thine fright ^note me the more:
For such things, in a false disloyal knave,
Are tricks of custom; but, in a man that's just,
They are ^note close denotements ^note,14Q1506 working from the heart,

That passion cannot rule.

Iag.
For Michael Cassio,—
I dare be sworn, I ^note think that ^note he is honest.

Oth.
I think so too.

Iag.
Men should be what ^note they seem;
Or, those that be not, 'would they might seem none ^note.

Oth.
Certain, men should be what they seem.

Iag.
Why then, I think Cassio's an honest man.

Oth.
Nay, yet there's more in this:
I pray thee ^note, speak to me as ^note to thy thinkings,
As thou dost ruminate; and give thy worst ^note of thoughts
The worst of words.

Iag.
Good my lord, pardon me;
Though I am bound to every act of duty,
I am not bound to that all slaves are free ^note to.
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 ^note so pure,
But some uncleanly ^note apprehensions
Keep leets, and law-days, and in session ^note 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.

Iag.
I do beseech you,
Though I (perchance)14Q1507 am vicious in my guess,
(As, I confess, it is my nature's plague,
To spy into abuses; and, oft, my ^note jealousy
Shapes faults that are not ^note) that your wisdom yet ^note,
From one that so imperfectly conceits ^note,
Would take ^note no notice; nor build yourself a trouble
Out of his scattering ^note and unsure observance:—

It were not for your quiet, nor your good,
Nor for my manhood, honesty, or wisdom ^note,
To let you know my thoughts.

Oth.
What dost thou mean? ^note

Iag.
Good name, in man, and woman, dear ^note my lord,
Is the immediate jewel of their souls ^note:
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 ^note know thy thought ^note.

Iag.
You cannot, if my heart were in your hand;
Nor shall not, whilst 'tis in my custody.

Oth.
Ha! ^note

Iag.
O, beware, my lord, of jealousy ^note;
It is the green ^note-ey'd monster,14Q1508 which doth make ^note
The meat ^note it feeds on: That cuckold lives in bliss,
Who, certain of his ^note fate, loves not his wronger;
But, o, what damned minutes tells he o'er,
Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly ^note loves?

Oth.
O misery!

Iag.
Poor, and content, is rich, and rich enough;
But riches, fineless, is as poor ^note as winter,
To him that ever fears he shall be poor:—
Good heaven, the ^note souls of all my tribe defend
From jealousy!

Oth.
Why, why is this, Iago?
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 ^note to be resolv'd: Exchange me for a goat,

When I shall turn the business of my soul
To such exufflicate ^{note note} and blown ^note surmises,
Matching thy inference ^note. '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 ^note;
Where virtue is, these are more virtuous ^note:
Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw
The smallest fear, or doubt of her revolt;
For she had eyes, and chose ^note 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.

Iag.
I am glad of this; for ^note now I shall have reason,
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 ^note.
Look to your wife, observe her well with Cassio;
Wear your eye ^note—thus, not jealous, nor secure:
I would not have your free and noble nature,
Out of self-bounty, be abus'd; look to't:
I know our country disposition well;
In Venice they do let heaven see ^note the pranks,
They dare not shew their husbands; their best conscience
Is—not to leave ^note undone, but keep unknown.

Oth.
Dost thou say so?

Iag.
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.

Iag.
Go ^note to, then;
She that, so young, could give out such a seeming,
To seel ^note her father's eyes up, close as oak,—

He thought, 'twas witchcraft:—But I am much to blame;
I humbly do beseech you of your pardon,
For too much loving you.

Oth.
I am bound to thee for ever.

Iag.
I see, this hath a little dash'd your spirits.

Oth.
Not a jot, not a jot.

Iag.
Trust me, I ^note fear it has.
I hope, you will consider, what is spoke
Comes from my love ^note:—But, I do see, you are mov'd;
I am to pray you, not to strain my speech
To grosser issues, nor to larger reach,
Than to suspicion.

Oth.
I will not.

Iag.
Should you do so, my lord,
My speech should fall into such ^note vile success
As my ^note thoughts aim ^note not at. ^note Cassio's my worthy ^note friend:—
My lord, I see, you are mov'd.

Oth.
No, not much mov'd:
I do not think, but Desdemona's honest.

Iag.
Long live she so! and long live you to think so!

Oth.
And yet, how nature, erring from itself,—

Iag.
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 ^note smell, in such, a will most ^note rank,
Foul disproportion ^note, thoughts unnatural.
But pardon me: I do not, in position,
Distinctly speak of her: though I may fear,
Her will, recoiling to her better judgment,
May fall to match you with her country forms,

And (hapily) repent.

Oth.
Farewel ^note, farewel:
If more thou dost perceive, let me know more;
Set on thy wife to observe: Leave me, Iago.

Iag.
My lord, I take my leave. [as going.

Oth.
Why did I marry?—This honest creature, doubtless,
Sees and knows more, much more, than he unfolds.

Iag.
My lord, [returns.] I would, I might entreat your honour
To scan this thing no farther ^note; leave it to time.
And though 'tis fit ^note that Cassio have his place,
(For, sure, he fills it up with great ability)
Yet, if you please to hold him ^note off a while,
You shall by that perceive him and his means:
Note, if your lady strain his entertainment ^note
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.
Fear not my government.

Iag.
I once more take my leave. [Exit.

Oth.
This fellow's of exceeding honesty,
And knows all qualities ^note, with a learned ^note spirit,
Of human dealings ^note: If I do prove her haggard,
Though that her jesses were my dear heart-strings,
I'd whistle her off, and let her down the wind,
To prey at fortune. Haply ^note, for I am 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 ^note; and my relief
Must be—to loath her. O 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 ^note dungeon,
Than keep a corner in the thing ^note I love
For others' uses. Yet, 'tis the plague of ^note great ones;
Prerogativ'd are they less than the base:
'Tis ^note destiny unshunnable, like death;
Even then this forked plague is fated to us,
When we do quicken. Desdemona comes: ^note Enter Desdemona, and Emilia.
If she be false, o, then heaven mocks itself ^note!
I'll not believe't.

Des.
How now, my dear Othello?
Your dinner, and the generous islanders ^note
By you invited, do attend your presence.

Oth.
I am to blame.

Des.
Why is your speech so faint? ^note are you not well?

Oth.
I have a pain upon my forehead here.

Des.
Why, that's ^note with watching; 'twill away again:
Let me but bind it hard, ^note within this hour
It will be well. ^note [goes to do it with a Handkerchief.

Oth.
Your napkin is too little; [putting it from him, and it drops.
Let it alone. Come, I'll go in with you. [Exeunt Othello, and Desdemona.

Emi.
I am glad, I have found this napkin; [picking it up.
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 give't Iago:
What he will ^note do with it, heaven knows, not I;
I nothing, but to please his ^note fantasy. Enter Iago.

Iag.
How now! what do you here alone?

Emi.
Do not you chide; I have a thing for you.

Iag.
A thing for me?—it is a ^note common thing:

Emi.
Ha!

Iag.
To have a foolish wife. ^note

Emi.
O, is that all? What will you give me now
For that same handkerchief?

Iag.
What handkerchief?

Emi.
What handkerchief?
Why, that the Moor first gave to Desdemona;
That which so often you did bid me steal.

Iag.
Hast stole ^note it from her?

Emi.
No; but she ^note let it drop by negligence;
And, to the advantage, I, being here, took't up:
Look, here † it is. ^note

Iag.
A good wench; give it me. [snatching it.

Emi.
What will you do with't ^note, that you have been so earnest
To have me filch it ^note?

Iag.
Why, what's ^note that to you?

Emi.
If't be not for some purpose of import,
Give't me ^note again: Poor lady! she'll run mad,
When she shall lack it.

Iag.
Be not you ^note known ^note on't; I have use for it.
Go, leave me. [Exit Emilia.

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.
The Moor:— ^note already changes with my poison ^note
Dangerous conceits are, in their natures, poisons;
Which, at the first, are scarce found to distaste;
But, with a little act ^note upon the blood,
Burn like the mines ^note of sulphur. I did say so: Enter Othello, at a Distance.
Look, where he comes! Not poppy, nor mandragora,
Nor all the drowzy syrops of the world,
Shall ever med'cine thee to that sweet sleep
Which thou ow'dst yesterday.

Oth.
Ha! false to me? ^note

Iag.
Why, how now, general? no more of that.

Oth.
Avant! be gone! thou hast set me on the rack:—
I swear, 'tis better to be much abus'd,
Than but to know't a ^note little.

Iag.
How now, my lord?

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

Iag.
I am sorry to hear this.

Oth.
I had been happy, if the general camp,
Pioners and all, had tasted her sweet body,
So I had nothing known: O now, for ever,
Farewel the tranquil mind! farewel content!
Farewel the plumed troops ^note; and the big war ^note,

That makes ^note ambition virtue! o, farewel!
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 o you mortal engines, whose rude ^note throats
The immortal Jove's dread clamours ^note counterfeit,
Farewel! Othello's occupation's gone!

Iag.
Is't possible?—My lord,—

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

Iag.
Is't come to this?

Oth.
Make me to see't; or (at the least) so prove it,
That the probation bear no hindge, nor loop,
To hang a doubt on; or woe upon thy life!

Iag.
My noble lord,—

Oth.
If thou dost slander her, and torture me,
Never pray more: 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.

Iag.
O grace! o heaven defend me ^note!—
Are you a man? have you a soul, or sense?—
God be wi'you; take mine office.—O wretched fool,
That lov'st ^note to make thine honesty a vice!—
O monstrous world!—Take note, take note, o 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 ^note breeds such offence.

Oth.
Nay, stay:—Thou should'st be honest.

Iag.
I should be wise; for honesty's a fool,
And loses that it works for.

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

Iag.
I see, sir ^note, you are eaten-up with passion;
I do repent me, that I put it to you.
You would be satisfy'd?

Oth.
Would? nay, I will.

Iag.
And may; But, how? how satisfy'd, my lord?
Would you, the supervisor ^note, grosly gape on?
Behold her tupp'd ^{note note}?

Oth.
Death and damnation! Oh!

Iag.
It were a tedious difficulty, I think,
To bring 'em to ^note that prospect: Damn 'em then,
If ever mortal ^note eyes do see them bolster,
More than their own! What then? how then, say you?14Q1509
Where's satisfaction?14Q1510 What shall I say?
It is impossible, you should see this;
Were they as prime as goats, as hot as monkies,
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 may have't ^note.

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

Iag.
I do not like the office:
But, sith I am enter'd in this ^note cause so far,—
Prick'd to't by foolish honesty, and love,—
I will go on. I lay with Cassio lately;
And, being troubl'd with a raging tooth,
I could not sleep. There are a kind of men
So loose of soul, that in their sleeps will mutter
Of their affairs: One of this kind is Cassio.
In sleep I heard him say,—Sweet Desdemona,
Let us be wary, ^note let us hide our loves:
And then, sir, would he gripe and wring my hand;
Cry,—O sweet ^note creature! and ^note then kiss me hard,
As if he pluck'd up kisses by the roots,
That grew upon my lips: then ^note lay'd his leg
Over my thigh, and sigh'd, and kiss'd ^note; and then
Cry'd ^note—Cursed fate, that gave thee to the Moor!

Oth.
O monstrous! monstrous!

Iag.
Nay, this was but his dream.

Oth.
But this denoted ^note a fore-gone conclusion;
'Tis a shrewd doubt, though it be but a dream. ^note

Iag. ^note
And this may help to thicken other proofs,
That do demonstrate thinly.

Oth.
I'll tear her all to pieces.

Iag.
Nay, but be ^note wise: yet we see nothing done;
She may be honest yet. Tell me but this,—
Have you not sometime seen a handkerchief,
Spotted with strawberries, in your wife's hand?

Oth.
I gave her such a one; 'twas my first gift.

Iag.
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't ^note be that,—

Iag.
If it be that, or any, if 'twas ^note 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. ^note—Look here, Iago;
All my fond love thus do I blow to heaven:
'Tis † gone.—
Arise, black vengeance, from the hollow hell ^note!
Yield up, o love,14Q1511 thy crown, and hearted ^note throne,
To tyrannous hate! swell, bosom, with thy fraught,
For 'tis of aspicks' tongues!

Iag.
Pray, be ^note content.

Oth.
O, blood, Iago, blood! ^note

Iag.
Patience, I say; your mind, perhaps ^note, may change.

Oth.
Never, Iago: Like to the Pontick sea, ^note
Whose icy current and compulsive course
Ne'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps ^note 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, [kneeling.
In the due reverence of a sacred vow,
I here engage my words.

Iag.
Do not rise yet.— [kneels too.
Witness, you ever ^note-burning lights above,—
You elements that clip us round about,
Witness, that here Iago doth give up
The execution of ^note his wit, hand ^note, heart,

To wrong'd Othello's service: let him command,
And to obey shall be in me ^note no remorse,
What bloody business ever ^note.

Oth.
I greet thy love, [rising.
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.

Iag.
My friend is dead; 'tis done, as you request: ^note
But let her live.

Oth.
Damn her ^note, lewd minx, o, 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.

Iag.
I am your own for ever. [Exeunt.

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