How now, Cassio?

Cas.
What's the matter?

Jago.
My lord is faln into an epilepsie,
This is the second fit; he had one yesterday.

Cas.
Rub him about the temples.

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

Oth.
Dost thou mock me?

Jago.
I mock you not, by heav'n;
Would you would bear your fortune like a man.

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

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

Oth.
Did he confess it?

Jago.
Good Sir, be a man:
Think every bearded fellow that's but yoak'd
May draw with you. Millions are now alive,
That nightly lye in those unproper beds,
Which they dare swear peculiar. Your case is better.
Oh, 'tis the spight 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.
Oh, thou art wise; 'tis certain.

Jago.
Stand you a while apart,
Confine your self but in a patient list.
Whilst you were here, o'er-whelmed with your grief
(A passion most ^{a note}unfitting such a man)
Cassio came hither. I shifted him away,
And laid good 'scuses on your ecstasie;
Bad him anon return, and here speak with me;
The which he promis'd. Do but encave your self,
And mark the fleers, the gibes 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, and is again to cope your wife.
I say, but mark his gesture. Marry patience,
Or I shall say you're all in all in spleen,
And nothing of a man.

Oth.
Dost thou hear, Jago,
I will be found most cunning in my patience;
But, dost thou hear, most bloody.

Jago.
That's not amiss;
But yet keep time in all. Will you withdraw? [Othello withdraws.
Now will I question Cassio of Bianca,
A huswife, that by selling her desires,
Buys her self bread and cloth. It is a creature
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
From the excess of laughter. Here he comes.

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