Des.

Do you know, sirrah, where lieutenant ^note Cassio lies?

Clo.

I dare not say, he lies any where.

Des.

Why, man?

Clo. ^note

He is a soldier; and for one to ^note say a soldier lies, is ^note stabbing.

Des.

Go to; Where lodges he?

Clo.

To tell you where he lodges, is to tell you where ^note 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 ^note here, or he lies there, were to lie in my own ^note throat.

Des.

Can you enquire him out, and be ^note edify'd by

report?

Clo.

I will catechize the world for him; that is, make questions, and bid them ^{note note} answer.

Des.

Seek him, bid him come hither: tell him, I have mov'd my lord in his ^note behalf, and hope all will be well.

Clo.

To do this, is within the compass of man's ^note wit; and therefore I will ^note attempt the doing it. ^note

Des.
Where should I lose that handkerchief ^note, Emilia?

Emi.
I know not, madam.

Des.
Believe me, I had rather have lost my ^note purse,
Full of crusadoes: 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.

Emi.
Is he not jealous?

Des.
Who, he? I think, the sun, where he was born,
Drew all such humours from him.

Emi.
Look, where he comes. Enter Othello.

Des.
I will not leave him now,
'Till Cassio ^note be call'd to him.—How is't with you, my lord?

Oth.
Well, my good lady:—&clquo;O hardness to dissemble!&crquo;—
How do you, Desdemona?

Des.
Well, my good lord.

Oth.
Give me your hand: This hand is moist, my lady.

Des.
It yet has ^note felt no age, nor known no sorrow.

Oth.
This argues fruitfulness, and liberal heart;—
Hot, hot ^note, and moist: This hand of yours requires
A sequester from liberty, fasting and prayer ^note,
Much castigation, exercise devout ^note;
For here's a young and sweating ^note devil here,

That commonly rebels. 'Tis a good hand,
A frank one too.

Des.
You may indeed say so;
For 'twas that hand that gave away my heart. ^note

Oth.
A liberal hand: The hands of old gave hearts;14Q1512
But our new heraldry is—hands, not hearts.

Des.
I cannot speak of this. Come now, your ^note promise.

Oth.
What promise, chuck?

Des.
I have sent to bid Cassio come speak with you.

Oth.
I have a salt and sorry rheum ^note 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 ^note lord.

Oth.
That is a fault: That handkerchief
Did an Egyptian 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, and ^note 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 ^note, and his spirits should hunt
After new fancies: She, dying, gave it me;
And bid me, when my fate would have me wive ^note,
To give it her. I did so: and take heed on't,
Make it a darling like your precious eye;
To lose't, or give't away, were such perdition ^note,
As nothing else could match.

Des.
Is't possible?

Oth.
'Tis true; there's magick in the web of it:

A sybil, that had number'd in the world
The sun to course two ^note hundred compasses,
In her prophetick fury sow'd the work:
The worms were hallow'd ^note, that did breed the silk;
And it was dy'd in mummy, which the ^note skilful
Conserv'd ^note of maidens' hearts.

Des.
Indeed? is't ^note true?

Oth.
Most veritable; therefore look to't well.

Des.
Then 'would to heaven, that ^note I had never seen't!

Oth.
Ha! wherefore?

Des.
Why do you speak so startingly and rash ^note?

Oth.
Is't lost? is't gone? speak, is it out o'the ^note way?

Des.
Bless ^note us!

Oth.
Say you?

Des.
It is not lost; But what an if it were?

Oth.
Ha! ^note

Des.
I say, it is not lost.

Oth.
Fetch't, let me see't ^note.

Des.
Why, so I can, sir, but ^note I will not now:
This is a trick, to put me from my suit;
I pray, let ^note Cassio be receiv'd again.

Oth.
Fetch me that handkerchief ^note: my mind misgives,

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

Oth.
The handkerchief. ^note

Des.
A man that, all his time,
Hath founded his ^note good fortunes on your love;
Shar'd dangers with you:

Oth.
The handkerchief.

Des.
In sooth, you ^note are to blame.

Oth.
Away! ^note [Exit Othello.

Emi.
Is not this man jealous?

Des.
I ne'er saw this before.
Sure, there's ^note some wonder in this handkerchief:
I am most unhappy in the loss ^note of it.

Emi.
'Tis not a year or two shews us a man:
They are all but stomacks, 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.

Iag.
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, ^note
That, by your virtuous means, I may again
Exist, and be a member of his love,
Whom I, with all the office of ^note my heart,
Entirely honour; I would not be delay'd:
If my offence be of such mortal kind,
That nor my ^note service past, nor present sorrows,
Nor purpos'd merit in futurity,
Can ransom me into his love again,
But to know so must be my benefit;
So shall I cloth me in a forc'd content,
And shoot ^note myself14Q1513 upon ^note some other course,
To fortune's alms.

Des.
Alas, thrice-gentle ^note Cassio,
My advocation is not now in tune;
My lord is not my lord; nor should I know him,
Were he in favour, as in humour, alter'd.
So help me every spirit sanctify'd,
As I have spoken for you all my best;
And stood within the blank of his displeasure,
For my free speech ^note! 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.

Iag.
Is my lord angry?

Emi.
He went hence but now,
And, certainly, in strange unquietness.

Iag.
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
Puff'd his own brother;—And can he be angry ^note?
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.—[Exit Iag.] Something, sure, of state,—
Either from Venice; or some unhatch'd practice,
Made démonstrable here in Cyprus to him,—
Hath puddl'd his ^note clear spirit: and, in such cases,
Men's natures wrangle with inferior things,
Though great ^note ones are their object ^note.
'Tis even so; for let our finger ach,
And it endues our other healthful members
Even to that sense ^note of pain: Nay, we must think,
Men are not gods;
Nor of them look for such observancy ^note
As fits the bridal.—Beshrew me much, Emilia,
I was (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.

Emi.
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.

Emi.
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 ^note monster,
Begot upon itself, born on itself.

Des.
Heaven keep the monster ^note from Othello's mind!

Emi.
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 Des. and Emi. Enter Bianca.

Bia.
Save you, friend Cassio!

Cas.
What make you from home?
How is it ^note with you, my most fair Bianca?
Indeed, sweet ^note love, I was coming to your lodging.

Bia.
And I was going to your lodging, Cassio.
What! keep a week away? seven days and nights?
Eightscore eight hours? and lovers' ^note absent hours,
More tedious than the dial eightscore times?
O weary ^note reck'ning!

Cas.
Pardon me, Bianca;
I have this while with leaden ^note thoughts been press'd:
But I shall, in a more convenient ^note time,
Strike off this score of absence. Sweet Bianca,
Take me this work out. [giving her Desdemona's Handkerchief.

Bia.
O, Cassio, whence came this?
This is some token from a newer friend.
To the felt absence now I feel a cause:
Is't come to this? Well, well. ^note

Cas.
Woman, go to ^note!
Throw your vile guesses in the devil's teeth,
From whence you have 'em. You are jealous now,

That this is from some mistress, some remembrance:
No, in good troth ^note, Bianca.

Bia.
Why, whose is it?

Cas.
I know not, neither; I ^note found it in my chamber,
I like the work well; ere it be demanded,
(As like enough, it will) I'd ^note have it copy'd:
Take it, and do't; and leave me, for this time.

Bia.
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.

Bia.
Why, I pray you? ^note

Cas.
Not, that I love you not.

Bia.
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.

Bia.
'Tis very good; I must be circumstanc'd. [Exeunt.

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