Bade him anon return, and here fpeak with me;
The which he promised. Do but encave yourself,
And mark the fleers, the gibes, and notable fcorns,
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 fay, but mark his gefture. Marry, patience;,
Or I fhall fay, you are all in all in fpleen,
And nothing of a man.

Oth. Doft thou hear, Iago?

I will be found moft cunning in my patience;
But, doft thou hear, most bloody?

lago. That's not amifs;

But yet keep time in all. Will you withdraw ?

[Othello withdraws. Now will I queftion Caffio of Bianca,

A housewife, that, by felling her defires,
Buys herself bread and cloth. It is a creature
That doats on Caffio; as 'tis the ftrumpet's plague
To beguile many, and be beguiled by one;
He, when he hears of her, cannot refrain
From the excefs of laughter.---Here he comes------
Enter CASSIO.

As he fhall fmile, Othello fhall go mad;
And his unbookifh jealoufy must conftrue
Poor Caffio's fmiles, geftures, and light behaviour,
Quite in this wrong. How do you now, Lieutenant?
Caf. The worfer, that you give me the addition,
Whofe want even kills me.

Iago. Ply Desdemona well, and you are fure on't: Now if this fuit lay in Bianca's power,

How quickly fhould you speed?
Caf. Alas, poor caitiff!

[Speaking lower.

Oth. Look how he laughs already. [Afide. lago. I.never knew a woman love man so. Caf. Alas, poor rogue, I think indeed the loves me. Oth. Now he denies it faintly and laughs out. [Afide..

Iago. Do you hear, Caffio !

Oth. Now he importunes him

:

To tell it o'er go to, well faid, well faid. [Afide. Iago. She gives it out that you thall marry her. Do you intend it?

Caf Ha, ha, ha!

Ch. Do you triumph, Roman? do you triumph?ˆ

[Afide. Caf. I marry her!---What? a cuftomer? pr'ythee bear fome charity to my wit, do not think it fo unwholefome. Ha, ha, ha!

Oth. So, fo: they laugh that win.

[Afide. Iago. Why, the cry goes that you fhall marry her. Caf. Pr'ythee, fay true.

lago. I am a very villain else.

Oth. Have you fcored me! well.

[Afide.

Caf. This is the monkey's own giving out: fhe

is perfuaded I will marry her, out of her own: love and flattery, not out of my promise.

Oth. Iago beckons me: now he begins the ftory.

[Afide. Caf. She was here even now: fhe haunts me in every place. I was the other day talking on the fea-bank with certain Venetians, and thither comes the bauble, and falls me thus about the neck--

Oth. Crying, "Oh dear Caffio," as it were: his gefture imports, it. [ fide. Caf. So hangs, and lolls, and weeps upon me, fo thakes, and'pulls me. Ha, ha, ha !----

but not

Oth. Now he tells how the. plucked him to my chamber: oh I fee that nofe of: that dog I fhall throw it to.

yours,

[Afide.

Caf. Well, I must leave her company.

Iago. Before me! look, where the comes.

Enter BIANCA.

Caf. 'Tis fuch another firchew: marry, a perfumed one.---What do you mean by this haunting

of me?

Bian. Let the devil and his dam haunt you! what did you mean by that fame 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, that you should find it in your chamber, and know not who left it there. This is fome minx's token, and i must take out the work? there---give it your hobby-horse: wherefoever you had it, I'll take out no work on't.

Caf. How now, my fweet Bianca? how now?

how now?

Oth. By Heaven, that should be my handkerchief.

[Afide. Bian. If you'll come to fupper to-night, you may; if you will not, come when you are next prepared for.

lago. After her, after her.----

Caf. I muft, fhe'll rail in the streets else. lago. Will you fup there?

Caf. Yes, I intend fo.

[Exit.

Iago. Well, I may chance to fee you; for I

would very fain speak with you.

Caf. Pr'ythee come, will you?

Iago. Go to, fay no more.

[Exit Caffio.

Manent OTHELLO and 1AGO.

Qth. How fhall I murder him, Iago?

Iago. Did you perceive how he laughed at his vice? Qth. Oh, Iago!---

Iago. And did you fee the handkerchief?

Oth. Was that mine?

lag. Yours, by this hand: and to fee how he prizes the foolish woman your wife---She gave

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! Iago. Nay, you must forget that.

it

Oth. Ay, let her rot and perifh, and be damned to-night; for fhe fhall not live. No, my heart is turned to ftone: I ftrike it, and it hurts my hand. Oh, the world hath not a sweeter creature----She might ly by an Emperor's fide and command him talks.

Iago. Nay, that's not your way.

Oth. Hang her, I do but fay what he is---fo delicate with her needle---an admirable musician--Oh, fhe will fing the favageness out of a bear: of fo high and plenteous wit and invention! lago. She's the worfe for all this.

Oth. Oh, a thoufand, a thousand times: And then of fo gentle condition!

Iago. Ay, too gentle.

Oth. Nay, that's certain.

But yet the pity of it, lago-Oh, Iago, the pity of it, lago

Tago. If you are fo fond over her iniquity, give her patent to offend; for if it touch not you, it comes near nobody.

Oth. I will chop her into meffes: cuckold me! lago. Oh, 'tis foul in her.

Oth. With mine officer!
Iago. That's fouler.

Oth. Get me fomne poifon, Iago, this night; I'll not expoftulate with her, left her body and her beauty unprovide my mind again: this night, Iago.

Jago. Doit not with poifon, ftrangle her in her bed, Even in the bed the hath contaminated.

Oth. Good, good:

The juftice of it pleafes; very good.

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

[A Trumpet within. Oth. Excellent good. What trumpet is that fame?

Iago. Something from Venice, fure. 'Tis Lodovico Come from the Duke: and, fee, your wife is with him, Enter LODOVICO, DESDEMONA, and Attendants, from the Palace.

Lod. Save you, worthy General.
Oth. With all my heart, Sir.

Lod. The Duke and the Senators of Venice greet

you.

[Gives him a Letter.

Oth. I kifs the infirument of their pleasures.

Def. And what's the news, good coufin Lodovico? Iago. I am very glad to fee you, fignior. Welcome to Cyprus.

Lod. I thank you; how does Lieutenant Caffio? Iago. Lives, Sir.

Def. Coufin, there's fall'n between him and my

Lord

An unkind breach: but you fhall make all well.
Oth. Are you fure of that?
Def. My Lord?.

[Afide.

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

[Reads Lod. He did not call; he's bufy in the paper. Is there divifion 'twixt my Lord and Caffio? Def. A most unhappy one; I would do much Tattone them, for the love I bear to Caffio. Oth. Fire and brimstone!