Iag.
Will you think so?14Q1514

Oth.
Think so, Iago?

Iag.
What,
To kiss in private?

Oth.
An unauthóriz'd kiss.

Iag.
Or to be naked with her friend in bed ^note,
An hour, or more, not meaning any harm?

Oth.
Naked in bed ^note, Iago, and not mean harm?
It is hypocrisy against the devil:
They that mean virtuously, and yet do so,
The devil their virtue tempts, and they tempt heaven.

Iag.
So they ^note do nothing, 'tis a venial slip:
But if I give my wife a handkerchief,—

Oth.
What then?

Iag.
Why, then 'tis hers, my lord; and, being hers,
She may, I think, bestow't on any man.

Oth.
She is proprietress ^note of her honour too;
May she give that?

Iag.
Her honour is an essence that's not seen;
They have it very oft, that have it not:
But, for the handkerchief,—

Oth.
By heaven, I would most gladly have forgot it:—
Thou said'st,—O, it comes o'er my memory,
As doth the raven o'er the infectious ^note house,
Boding to all,—he had my handkerchief.

Iag.
Ay, what of that?

Oth.
That's not so good now.

Iag.
What if I had said, I had seen him do you wrong?
Or heard ^note him say,—As knaves be such abroad,
Who having, by their own importunate suit,
Or voluntary ^note dotage of some mistress,
Convinc'd ^note, or suppl'd ^note them, straight cannot choose
But they must blab:

Oth.
Hath he said any thing?

Iag.
He hath, my lord; but, be you well assur'd,
No more than he'll unswear.

Oth.

What hath he said?

Iag.

Why, that ^note he did,—I know not what he did.

Oth.

What? what? ^note

Iag.

Lye—

Oth.

With her?

Iag.

With her, on her; what you will.

Oth.

Lye with her! lye on her!—We say, lie on her, when they bely her; Lye with her! that's ^note fulsome. Handkerchief, —confessions—handkerchief. ^note To confess, and ^note be hang'd for his labour. First, to be hang'd, and then to confess; I tremble at it. Nature would not14Q1515 invest herself in such shadowing passion, without some induction ^note. It is not words, that shakes me thus: Pish!—Noses, ears, and lips: Is't possible?—Confess,—Handkerchief,—O devil!

Iag.
Work on, my med'cine, work!—Thus ^note credulous fools are caught;
And many worthy and chast dames, even thus,
All guiltless meet reproach.—What, ho! my lord! Enter Cassio.
My lord, I say! Othello!—How now, Cassio?

Cas.
What's the matter?

Iag.
My lord is fall'n into an epilepsy;
This is his second fit, he had one yesterday.

Cas.
Rub him about the temples.

Iag.
No, forbear ^note;
The lethargy must have his ^note quiet course:
If not, he foams at mouth; and, by and by,
Breaks out to savage madness. Look, he stirs ^note:
Do you withdraw yourself a little while,
He will recover straight; when he is gone,
I would on great occasion speak ^note with you.— [Exit Cassio.
How is it, general? have you not hurt your head ^note?

Oth.
Dost mock ^note me?

Iag.
I mock you! no, by heaven; ^note I mock you not.
'Would, you would bear your fortune ^note like ^note a man.

Oth.
A horned man's a monster, and a beast.

Iag.
There's many a beast then in a populous city,
And many a civil monster.

Oth.
Did he confess it ^note?

Iag.
Good sir, be a man;
Think, every bearded fellow, that's but yok'd,
May draw with you: there's millions now alive,
That nightly lye ^note in those unproper beds,
Which they dare swear peculiar; your case ^note is better.
O, 'tis ^note the spite of hell, the fiend's arch-mock,
To lip a wanton in a secure couch,
And to suppose her chast! No, let me know;
And, knowing what I am, I know what she shall be.

Oth.
O, thou art wise; that's certain. ^note

Iag.
Stand you a while apart;
Confine yourself but in a patient list.
Whilst you were here o'er-whelmed with ^note your grief,
(A passion most unfitting ^note such a man)
Cassio came hither: I shifted ^note him away,
And lay'd good 'scuse ^note upon ^note your extasy;
Bad ^note him anon return, and here speak with me,
The which he promis'd: Do ^note but encave yourself,
And mark the fleers ^note, the gybes, and notable scorns,
That dwell in every region of his face;
For I will make him tell the tale anew,—
Where, how, how oft, how long ago, and when
He hath ^note, and is again to cope your wise;
I say, but mark his gesture Marry, patience;
Or I shall say, you are all in all a spleen ^note,
And nothing of a man.

Oth.
Dost hear ^note, Iago?
I will be found most cunning in my patience;
But (dost thou hear?) most bloody.

Iag.
That's not amiss;
But yet ^note keep time in all. Will you withdraw? [Othello conceals himself.
Now will I question Cassio of Bianca,
A huswife, that, by selling her desires,
Buys herself bread and cloaths: ^note it is a creature ^note,
That dotes on Cassio,—as 'tis the strumpet's plague,
To beguile many, and be beguil'd by one;—
He, when he hears of her, cannot refrain ^note
From the excess of laughter:—Here he comes:— Enter Cassio, at a Distance.
As he shall smile, Othello shall go mad;
And his unbookish jealousy must construe ^note
Poor Cassio's smiles, gestures, and light behaviour ^note,
Quite in the wrong.—How do you now ^note, lieutenant?

Cas.
The worser ^note, that you give ^note me the addition,
Whose want even kills me.

Iag.
Ply Desdemona well, and you are sure on't:
Now, if this suit lay in Bianca's power ^note, [speaking low.
How quickly should you speed?

Cas.
Alas, poor caitiff!

&clquo;Oth.
&clquo;Look, how he laughs already!&crquo;

Iag.
I never knew a ^note woman love man so.

Cas.
Alas, poor rogue! I think, indeed, she ^note loves me.

&clquo;Oth.
&clquo;Now he denies it faintly, and laughs it out.&crquo;

Iag.
Do you hear, Cassio?

&clquo;Oth.
&clquo;Now he importunes him&crquo;
&clquo;To tell it o'er: ^note Go to; well said, well said ^note.&crquo;

Iag.
She gives it out, that you shall marry her;

Do you intend it?

Cas.

Ha, ha, ha!

&clquo;Oth.

&clquo;Do you ^note triumph, Roman? do you triumph?14Q1516&crquo;

Cas.

I marry her? what, a customer! Pr'ythee ^note, bear some charity to my wit; do not think it so unwholsome. Ha, ha, ha!

&clquo;Oth.

&clquo;So, so, so, so: Laugh ^note, that wins.&crquo;

Iag.

Why, the ^note cry goes, that ^note you shall marry her.

Cas.

Pr'ythee, say true.

Iag.

I am a very villain else.

&clquo;Oth.

&clquo;Have you scor'd ^note me? Well.&crquo;

Cas.

This is the monkey's own giving out: she is persuaded, I will marry her, out of her own love and flattery, not out of my promise.

&clquo;Oth.

&clquo;Iago beckons me ^note; now he begins the story.&crquo;

Cas.

She was here even now; she haunts me in every place. I was, the other day, talking on the sea-bank with certain Venetians; and thither comes the bauble ^note, and falls me thus † about my neck:

&clquo;Oth.

&clquo;Crying, O dear Cassio! as it were: his gesture imports it.&crquo;

Cas.

So hangs, and lolls ^note, and weeps upon me; so hales, and pulls me: ha, ha, ha!

&clquo;Oth.

&clquo;Now he tells, how she pluck'd him to my chamber: O ^note, I see that nose of yours, but not that ^note dog I shall throw it to ^note.&crquo;

Cas.

Well, I must leave her company.

Iag. ^note

Before me! look, where she comes.

Cas. ^note

'Tis such another fitchew! marry, a perfum'd one.—What do you mean by this haunting of me?

Bia.

Let the devil and his dam haunt you! What did

you mean by that same handkerchief, you gave me even now? I was a fine fool to take it. I must take out the work?—A likely piece of work ^note; that you should find it in your chamber, and know not ^note who left it there. This is some minx's token, and I must take out the work? There, &dagger2; give it your hobby ^note horse: wheresoever you had it, I'll take out no work on't.

Cas.

How now, my sweet Bianca? how now? how now?

&clquo;Oth.

&clquo;By heaven, that should be my handkerchief?&crquo;

Bia.

An you'll ^note come to supper to-night, you may: an you will not, come when you are next prepar'd for.

Iag.

After her, after her.

Cas.

I must, she'll rail i'the street ^note else.

Iag.

Will ^note you sup there?

Cas.

Yes, I ^note intend so.

Iag.

Well, I may chance to see you; for I would very fain speak with you.

Cas.

Pr'ythee, come; Will you?

Iag.

Go to; say no more.

Oth.

How shall I murther him, Iago?

Iag.

Did you perceive how he laugh'd at his vice?

Oth.

O, Iago!

Iag.

And did you see the handkerchief?

Oth.

Was that mine?

Iag.

Yours, by this hand: and to see how he prizes ^note the foolish woman your wife! she gave it him, and he hath given it his whore.

Oth.

I would have him nine years a killing.—A fine woman! a fair woman! a sweet woman!

Iag.

Nay, you must forget that ^note.

Oth.

Ay, let ^note her rot, and perish, and be damn'd tonight; for she shall not live: No, my heart is turn'd to stone ^note; I strike it, and it hurts my hand. O, the world hath ^note not a sweeter creature: she might lye by an emperor's side, and command him tasks.

Iag.

Nay, that's not your way.

Oth.

Hang her! I do but say ^note what she is: So delicate with her needle!—An admirable musician! O, she will sing the savageness out of a bear!—Of so high and plenteous ^note wit and invention!—

Iag.

She's the worse for all this.

Oth.

O, a thousand, a thousand ^note times:—And then, of so gentle a condition!—

Iag.

Ay, too gentle.

Oth.

Nay, that's ^note certain: But yet the pity of it, Iago! O, Iago, the pity of it, Iago ^note!

Iag.

If you be so ^note fond over her iniquity, give her patent to offend; for, if it touches ^note not you, it comes near nobody.

Oth.

I will chop her into messes: Cuckold me!

Iag.

O, 'tis foul in her.

Oth.

With mine officer!

Iag.

That's fouler.

Oth.

Get me some poison, Iago; this night:—I'll not expostulate with her, lest her body and beauty unprovide my mind again:—this night, Iago.

Iag.

Do it not with poison; strangle her in her bed, even the bed she hath contaminated.

Oth.

Good, good; the justice of it pleases; very good.

Iag.

And, for Cassio,—let me be his undertaker: You shall hear more by midnight.

Oth.

Excellent good. What trumpet is that same?

Iag.
Something from Venice, ^note sure. 'Tis Lodovico, Enter Lodovico, and Attendants; Desdemona, and Others, with him.
Come from the duke: and, see, your wife is with him.

Lod.
Save you, worthy ^note general!

Oth.
With all my heart, sir.

Lod.
The duke and senators ^note of Venice greet you. [giving him a Packet.

Oth.
I kiss the instrument of their good pleasures. [opens, and peruses it.

Des.
And what's the news, good cousin Lodovico?

Iag.
I am glad to see you, signior; Welcome to Cyprus.

Lod.
I thank you, sir: How does lieutenant Cassio?

Iag.
Lives, sir.

Des.
Cousin, there's fall'n between him and my lord
An unkind breach: but you shall make all well.

Oth.
Are you sure of that?

Des.
My lord?

Oth.
This fail you not to do, as you will—

Lod.
He did not call; he's busy in the paper.
Is there division 'twixt ^note thy lord ^note and Cassio?

Des.
A most unhappy one; I would do much
To atone them, for the love I bear to Cassio.

Oth.
Fire and brimstone!

Des.
My lord?

Oth.
Are you wise?

Des.
What, is he angry?

Lod.
May be, the letter mov'd him;
For, as I think, they do command him home,
Deputing Cassio in his government.

Des.
Trust me, I ^note am glad ^note on't.

Oth.
Indeed?

Des.
My lord?

Oth.
I am glad to see you mad.

Des.
Why, sweet ^note Othello?

Oth.
Devil! [striking her.

Des.
I have not deserv'd this.

Lod.
My lord, this would not be believ'd in Venice,
Though I should swear I saw't: 'Tis very much;
Make her amends, she weeps.

Oth.
O devil, devil!
If that the earth could teem with woman's ^note tears,
Each drop she falls would prove a crocodile:—
Out of my sight!

Des.
I will not stay to offend you.

Lod.
Truly, an ^note obedient lady:—
I do beseech your lordship, call her back.

Oth.
Mistress,—

Des.
My lord?

Oth.
What would you with her, sir?

Lod.
Who I, my lord?

Oth.
Ay, you did wish, that I would make her turn:
Sir, she can turn, and turn, and yet go on,
And turn again; and she can weep, sir, weep;
And she's obedient, as you say, obedient,
Very obedient;—Proceed you in your tears.—
Concerning this, sir,—O well-painted passion!—
I am commanded home: ^note—Get you away;
I'll send for you anon.—Sir, I obey the mandate,
And will return to Venice;—Hence, avant!— [Exit Des.
Cassio shall have my place. And, sir, to-night,
I do entreat, that we may sup together.
You're welcome, sir, to Cyprus.—Goats and monkies! [Exit Oth.

Lod.
Is this the noble Moor, whom our full senate
Call—all-in-all sufficient? This ^note the nature ^note
Whom passion could not shake? whose solid virtue
The shot of accident, nor dart of chance,
Could neither graze ^note, nor pierce?

Iag.
He is much chang'd.

Lod.
Are his wits safe? is he not light ^note of brain?

Iag.
He's that he is; I may not breath my censure.
What he might be,—if, what he ^note might, he is not,—
I would to heaven, he were.

Lod.
What, strike his wife!

Iag.
'Faith, that was not so well; Yet 'would I knew,
That stroke would prove the worst.

Lod.
Is it ^note his use?
Or did the letters work upon his blood,
And new-create this fault ^note?

Iag.
Alas, alas,
It is not honesty in me, to speak
What I have seen and known. You shall observe him ^note;
And his own courses will denote him so,
That I may save my speech: Do but go after,
And mark how he continues.

Lod.
I am sorry, that I am deceiv'd in him. [Exeunt. SCENE II. The same. Enter Othello, and Emilia.

Oth.
You have seen nothing then?

Emi.
Nor ever heard; nor ever did suspect.

Oth.
Yes, you ^note have seen Cassio and she together ^note.

Emi.
But then I saw no harm; and then I heard
Each syllable, that breath made up between them.

Oth.
What, did they never whisper?

Emi.
Never, my lord.

Oth.
Nor send you out o'the way?

Emi.
Never.

Oth.
To fetch her fan, her gloves ^note, her mask, nor nothing?

Emi.
Never, my lord.

Oth.
That's strange.

Emi.
I durst, my lord, to wager she is honest,
Lay down my soul at stake: if you think other,
Remove your thought; it doth abuse your bosom.
If any wretch hath put this in your head,
Let heaven ^note requite ^note it with the serpent's curse!
For, if she be not honest, chast, and true,
There's no man happy; the purest of their wives ^note
Is foul as slander.

Oth.
Bid her come hither; go.— [Exit Emi.
She says enough;—yet she's a simple bawd,
That cannot say as much. This is a subtle whore,
A closet lock and key of villanous secrets:
And yet she'll kneel, and pray; I have seen ^note her do't. Re-enter Emilia, with Desdemona.

Des.
My lord, what is your will?

Oth.
Pray, chuck ^note, come hither.

Des.
What is your pleasure?

Oth.
Let me see your eyes;
Look in my face.

Des.
What horrible fancy's this?

Oth.
Some of your function, mistress, [to Emilia.
Leave procreants alone, and shut the door;
Cough, or cry—hem, if any body come:
Your mystery, your mystery; nay ^note, dispatch. [Exit Emilia.

Des.
Upon my † knees ^note, what doth your speech import?

I understand a fury in your words,
But not the words ^note.

Oth.
Why, what art thou?

Des.
Your wife, my lord;
Your true and loyal wife.

Oth.
Come, swear it, damn thyself;
Lest ^note, being like one of heaven, the devils themselves
Should fear to seize thee: therefore be double-damn'd,
Swear.—thou art honest.

Des.
Heaven doth truly know it.

Oth.
Heaven truly knows, that thou art false as hell.

Des.
To whom, my lord? With whom? How am I false?

Oth.
O Desdemona ^note!—away! away! away!

Des.
Alas, the heavy ^note day!—Why do you weep?
Am I the motive of these ^note tears, my lord?
If, haply, you my father do suspect,
An instrument of this your calling back,
Lay not your blame on me; if you have lost ^note him,
Why ^note, I have lost ^note him too.

Oth.
Had it pleas'd heaven,
To try me with affliction; had he rain'd ^note
All kind ^note of sores, and shames, on my bare head;
Steep'd me in poverty to the very lips;
Given to ^note captivity me and my utmost ^note hopes;
I should have found in some part of ^note my soul
A drop of patience: but (alas!) to make me
A fixed ^note figure,14Q1517 for the hand of ^note scorn
To point his slow unmoving ^note finger at,—
O! o! ^note
Yet could I bear that too; well, very well:
But there, where I have garner'd up my heart;
Where either I must live, or bear no life;

The fountain ^note from the which my current runs,
Or else dries up; to be discarded thence!
Or keep it as a cistern, for foul toads
To knot and gender in!—turn thy complexion there,
Patience, thou young ^note and rose-lip'd cherubin,
Ay, there ^note, look grim as hell.

Des.
I hope, my noble ^note lord esteems me honest.

Oth.
O, ay; as summer ^note-flies are in the shambles,
That quicken even with blowing. O thou weed ^note,
Who art ^note so lovely fair, and smell'st ^note so sweet,
That the sense akes ^note at thee,—'Would, thou hadst ne'er been born!

Des.
Alas, what ignorant sin have I committed?

Oth.
Was this fair paper, this most goodly book,
Made to write whore upon ^note? What, what, committed!
Committed! O thou publick commoner, ^note
I should make very forges of my cheeks,
That would to cinders burn up modesty,
Should I ^note but speak thy deeds; What, what, committed!
Heaven stops the nose at it, and the moon winks;
The bawdy wind, that kisses all it meets,
Is hush'd within the hollow mine of earth,
And will not hear't: Committed! what, committed!
Impudent strumpet! ^note

Des.
By heaven, you do me wrong.

Oth.
Are not you a strumpet?

Des.
No, as I am a christian:
If to preserve this vessel for my lord,
From any other foul ^note unlawful touch,
Be—not to be a strumpet, I am none.

Oth.
What, not a whore?

Des.
No, as I shall be sav'd.

Oth.
Is't possible?

Des.
O, heaven forgive ^note us!

Oth.
I cry you mercy, then ^note;
I took you for that cunning ^note whore of Venice,
That marry'd with Othello.—You, mistress, there! Re-enter Emilia.
That have the office opposite to saint Peter,
And keep the gate of hell ^note; You, you; ay, you! ^note
We have done our course; there's money for your pains;
I pray you, turn the key, and keep our counsel. [Exit Othello.

Emi.
Alas, what does this gentleman conceive?—
How do you, madam? how do you, my good lady?

Des.
'Faith, half asleep.

Emi.
Good madam, what's the matter with my lord?

Des.
With who? ^note

Emi.
With ^note my lord, madam?

Des.
Who is thy lord? ^note

Emi.
He that is yours, sweet lady.

Des.
I have none: Do not talk to me, Emilia;
I cannot weep; nor answer ^note have I none,
But what should go by water. Pr'ythee, to-night
Lay on my bed my wedding ^note sheets, remember;
And call thy husband hither.

Emi.
Here is a change, indeed! [Exit.

Des.
'Tis meet I should be us'd so, very meet ^note
How have I been behav'd, that he might stick
The small'st opinion on my least misuse ^note? Re-enter Emilia, with Iago.

Iag.
What is your pleasure, madam? How is't with you?

Des.
I cannot tell. Those, that do teach young babes ^note,
Do it with gentle means, and easy tasks:
He might have chid me so; for, in good faith,

I am a child to chiding ^note.

Iag.
What is the matter, lady?

Emi.
Alas, Iago, my lord hath so bewhor'd her,
Thrown such despite and heavy terms upon her,
As true hearts cannot bear. ^note

Des.
Am I that name, Iago?

Iag.
What name, fair lady?

Des.
Such as, she says, my ^note lord did say I was.

Emi.
He call'd her, whore; a beggar, in his drink,
Could not have lay'd such terms ^note upon his callet.

Iag.
Why did he so?

Des.
I do not know; I am sure, I am none such.

Iag.
Do not weep, do not weep; Alas, the day!

Emi.
Has ^note she forsook so many noble matches,
Her father, and her country, and her ^note friends,
To be call'd—whore? would it not make one weep?

Des.
It is my wretched fortune.

Iag.
Beshrew him for't ^note!
How comes this trick upon him?

Des.
Nay, heaven doth know.

Emi.
I will be hang'd, if some eternal villain,
Some busy and insinuating rogue,
Some cogging coz'ning slave, to get some office,
Has not ^note devis'd this slander; I'll ^note be hang'd else.

Iag.
Fie! there is no such man; it is impossible.

Des.
If any such there be ^note, heaven pardon him!

Emi.
A halter pardon him! and hell gnaw his bones!
Why should he call her, whore? who keeps her company?
What place? what time? what form? what likelihood?
The Moor's abus'd by some most villanous ^note knave,
Some base notorious knave, some scurvy fellow:—
O, heaven ^note, that such companion ^note thou'dst unfold ^note;

And put in every honest hand a whip,
To lash the rascal naked through the world,
Even from the east to the west!

Iag.
Speak within door ^note.

Emi.
O, fie upon him ^note! some such squire he was,
That turn'd your wit the seamy side without,
And made you to suspect me with the Moor.

Iag.
You are a fool; go to.

Des.
Alas, Iago ^note,
What shall I do to win my lord again?
Good friend, go to him; for, by this light of heaven,
I know not how I lost him. Here I † kneel: ^note—
If e'er my will did trespass 'gainst his love,
Either in discourse of thought, or actual deed;
Or that mine eyes, mine ears, or any sense,
Delighted them in any other form;
Or that I do not yet, and ever did,
And ever will,—though he do shake me off
To beggarly divorcement,—love him dearly,
Comfort forswear me! Unkindness may do much;
And his unkindness may defeat my life,
But never taint my love. I can't say, whore;
It does abhor me, now I speak the word;
To do the act that might the addition earn,
Not the world's mass of vanity could make me.

Iag.
I pray you, be content; 'tis but his humour;
The business of the state does him offence,
And he does chide with you. ^note

Des.
If 'twere no other,—

Iag.
It is ^note but so, I warrant. [Trumpets.
Hark, how these instruments summon to ^note supper!
The messenger of Venice stays ^note the meat:

Go in, and weep not; all things shall be well. [Exeunt Des. and Emi. Enter Roderigo.
How now, Roderigo?

Rod.

I do not find, that thou deal'st justly with me.

Iag.

What in the contrary?

Rod.

Every day thou doft'st ^{note note} me with some devise, Iago; and rather (as it seems to me now) keepest ^note from me all conveniency, than suppliest me with the least advantage of hope. I will, indeed, no longer endure it: Nor am I yet persuaded, to put up in peace what already I have foolishly suffer'd.

Iag.

Will you hear me, Roderigo?

Rod.

Sir, I ^note have heard too much; and your ^note words, and performances ^note, are no kin together.

Iag.

You charge me most unjustly.

Rod.

With nought but truth ^note. I have ^note wasted myself out of means ^note. The jewels you have had from me, to deliver to Desdemona ^note, would half have corrupted a votarist: You have told me—she hath receiv'd them, and return'd me expectations ^note and comforts of sudden respect and acquittance ^note; but I find none.

Iag.

Well; go to; very well ^note.

Rod.

Very well? go to? I can not go to, man; nor 'tis ^note not very well: Nay, I ^note think it is scurvy; and begin to find myself fob'd ^note in it.

Iag.

Very well.

Rod.

I tell you, 'tis ^note not very well. I will make myself known to Desdemona: if she will return me my jewels, I will give over my suit, and repent my unlawful solicitation; if not, assure yourself, I will ^note; seek satisfaction of you.

Iag.

You have said ^note now.

Rod.

Ay, and said nothing, but what I protest intendment of doing.

Iag.

Why, now I see there's mettle in thee; and, even from this instant, do ^note build on thee a better opinion than ever before. Give me thy hand, Roderigo: Thou hast taken against me a most just exception ^note; but yet, I protest, I have dealt most directly in thy affair ^note.

Rod.

It hath not appear'd.

Iag.

I grant, indeed, it hath not appear'd; and your suspicion is not without wit and judgment. But, Roderigo, if thou hast that within thee ^note indeed, which I have greater reason to believe now than ever,—I mean, purpose, courage, and valour,—this night shew it: if thou the next night following enjoy ^note not Desdemona, take me from this world with treachery, and devise engines for my life.

Rod.

Well, what is it ^note? is it within reason, and compass?

Iag.

Sir, there is especial commission come ^note from Venice, to depute Cassio in Othello's place.

Rod.

Is that true? why, then Othello and Desdemona return again to Venice.

Iag.

O, no; he goes into Mauritania, and taketh ^note away with him the fair Desdemona, unless his abode be linger'd here by some accident; wherein ^note none can be so determinate, as the removing of Cassio.

Rod.

How do you mean—removing him ^note?

Iag.

Why, by making ^note him uncapable of Othello's place; knocking out his brains.

Rod.

And that you would have me to do.

Iag.

Ay; if ^note you dare do yourself a profit, and a right.

He sups to-night with a harlotry ^note, and thither will I go to him;—he knows not yet of his honourable fortune: if you will watch his going thence, which I will fashion to fall out between twelve and one, you may take him at your pleasure; I will be near to second your attempt, and he shall fall between us. Come, stand not amaz'd at it, but go along with me; I will shew you such a necessity in his death, that you shall think yourself bound to put it on him. It is now high supper-time, and the night grows to waste: about it.

Rod.

I will hear further reason for this.

Iag.

And you shall be satisfy'd.