Till that a capable, and wide Revenge

Swallow them up. Now by yond marble Heav'n,

In the due reverence of a facred Vow,

I here engage my Words ---

Jago. Do not rife yet:

Witness your ever-burning Lights above,
You Elements that clip us round about,
Witness that here Jago doth give up

The Execution of his Wit, Hands, Heart,
To wrong'd Othello's Service.

[He kneels.

[Jago kneels.

Let him command,

And to obey shall be in me remorse,

What bloody Business ever.

Oth. I greet thy Love,

Not with vain Thanks, but with acceptance bounteous,
And will upon the inftant put thee to't:

Within thefe three Days let me hear thee fay,

That Caffio's not alive.

Jago. My Friend is dead:

'Tis done at your request. But let her live,

Oth. Damn her lewd Minx! O damn her, damn her!

Come go with me apart, I will withdraw

To furnish me with fome fwift means of Death

my Lieutenant.

[Exeunt.

For the fair Devil. Now art thou
Jago. I am your own for ever.
Enter Desdemona, Æmilia, and Clown.
Def. Do you know, Sirrah, where Lieutenant Caffio

lyes?

Clown. I dare not fay he lies any where.

Def. Why Man?

Clown. He's a Soldier, and for me to fay a Soldier lies, 'tis ftabbing.

Def. Go to; where lodges he?

Clown. To tell you where he lodges, is to tell you where

I lie.

Def. Can any thing be made of this?

Clown. I know not where he lodges, and for me to devife a Lodging, and fay he lyes here, or he lyes there, were to lie in mine own Throat.

Def. Can you enquire him out? and be edified by report ?

Clown,

Clown. I will Catechize the World for him, that is, make Questions, and by them Anfwer.

Def. Seek him, bid him come hither; tell him, I have mov'd my Lord on his behalf, and hope all will be well. Clown. To do this, is within the Compafs of Man's Wit, and therefore I will attempt the doing of it. [Exit Clown. Def. Where should I lofe the Handkerchief, Amilia?

Amil. I know not, Madam.

Def. Believe me, I had rather have loft my purfe
Full of Cruzadoes. And but my noble Moor
Is true of mind, and made of no fuch baseness,
As jealous Creatures are, it were enough
To put him to ill thinking.

Emil. Is he not Jealous?

Def. Who he? I think the Sun where he was born, Drew all fuch Humors from him.

Emil. Look where he comes.

Def. I will not leave him now, 'till Caffio be Call to him. How is't with you, my Lord?

Enter Othello.

Oth. Well, my good Lady. Oh hardness to diffemble ! How do you, Desdemona?

Def. Well, my good Lord.

Oth. Give me your Hand; this Hand is moift, my Lady. Def. It yet hath felt no Age, nor known no Sorrow. Oth. This argues Fruitfulness, and liberal Heart; Hot, hot, and moift this hand of yours requires A fequefter from Liberty; Fafting, and Prayer, Much Caftigation, Exercife devout,

For here's a young and fweating Devil here,
That commonly rebels: 'Tis a good Hand,
A frank one.

Def. You may, indeed, fay fo;

For 'twas that Hand that gave away my Heart.
Oth. A liberal Hand. The hearts of old, gave hands;
But our new Heraldry is Hands, not Hearts.

Def. I cannot speak of this; come, now your Promife.
Oth. What promife, Chuck?

Def. I have fent to bid Caffio come fpeak with you.
Oth. I have a falt and forry Rheum offends me;

Len

Lend me thy Handkerchief.

Def. Here, my Lord.

Oth. That which I gave you.
Def. I have it not about me.
Oth. Not?

Def. Na indeed, my Lord,

Oth. That's a fault. That Handkerchief
Did an Ægyptian to my Mother give;
She was a Charmer, and could almost read

The Thoughts of People. She told her, while fhe kept it,
Twould make her amiable, fubdue my Father
Intirely to her love; but if fhe loft it,

Or made a Gift of it, my Father's Eye
Should hold her loathed, and his Spirits should hunt
After new Fancies. She, dying, gave it me,
And bid me, when my Fate would have me wiv'd,
To give it her. I did fo, and take heed on't;
Make it a Darling, like your precious Eye;
To loos't, or give't away, were fuch Perdition,
As nothing elfe could match.

Def. Is't poffible?

Oth. 'Tis true; there's Magick in the Web of it; A Sybill that had numbred in the World

The Sun to courfe two hundred Compaffes,

In her prophetick Fury fow'd the work :

The Worms were hallowed, that did breed the Silk,
And it was dy'd in Mummey, which the skilful
Conferv'd of Maidens Hearts.

Def. Indeed! is't true?

Oth. Moft veritable, therefore look to't well.
Def. Then would to Heav'n, that I had never feen't,
Oth. Ha? wherefore?

Def. Why do you speak fo ftartingly, and rafh?

Oth. Is't loft? is't gone? Speak, is't out o'th' way? Def. Blefs us!

Oth. Say you?

Def. It is not loft; but what and if it were?

Oth. How?

Def. I fay it is not loft.

Oth. Fetch't, let me fee't.

Def.

Def. Why fo I can, Sir, but I will not now:
This is a trick to put me from my Suit,
Pray you let Caffio be receiv'd again.

Oth. Fetch me the Handkerchief

gives

my mind mif

Def. Come, come; you'll never meet a more fufficient Man.

Oth. The Handkerchief

Def. A Man that all his time

Hath founded his good Fortunes on your Love ;

Shar'd Dangers with you.

Oth. The Handkerchief

Def. Infooth, you are to blame.

Oth. Away.

Amil. Is not this Man jealous?

Def. I never faw this before.

[Exit Othello,

Sure there's fome wonder in this Handkerchief,

I am most unhappy in the lofs of it.

Emil. 'Tis not a Year or two fhews us a Man: They are all but Stomachs, and we all but Food, They eat us hungerly, and when they are full They belch us.

Enter Jago, and Caffio. Look you, Caffio, and my Husband.

Jago, There is no other way, 'tis fhe must do't ; And lo the happiness; go and importune her.

Def. How now, good Caffie, what's the News with you?

Caf. Madam, my former Suit. I do befeech you,
That by your virtuous means, I may again
Exift, and be a Member of his Love,
Whom I, with all the Office of my Heart
Intirely honour. I would not be delay'd;
If my Offence be of fuch mortal kind,
That not my Service paft, nor present Sorrows,
Nor purpos'd Merit in Futurity,

Can ranfom me into his Love again;
But to know fo, muft be my Benefit ;
So fhall I cloath me in a forc'd content,
And fhut my felf up in fome other Course,
To Fortunes Alms,

Def

Def. Alas! thrice gentle Caffio,
My Advocation is not now in tune;

My Lord, is not my Lord; nor fhould I know him,
Were he in Favour, as in Humour alter'd.
So help me every Spirit fan&tified,

As I have fpoken for you all my beft,
And ftood within the blank of his Displeasure,
For my free Speech. You muft a while be patient;
What I can do, I will; and more I will
Than for my felf I dare. Let that fuffice you.
Jago. Is my Lord angry?

Amil. He went hence but now ;
And certainly in ftrange unquietness.

Jago. Can he be angry? I have feen the Canon,
When it hath blown his Ranks into the Air,
And like the Devil from his very Arm
Puft his own Brother; and is he angry?
Something of Moment then; I will go meet him,
There's matter in't indeed, if he be angry.

Def. I prethee do fo. Something fure of State,
Either from Venice, or fome unhatch'd Practice,
Made demonftrable here in Cyprus, to him,
Hath pudled his clear Spirit ; and in fuch Cafes,
Mens Natures wrangle with inferior things,
Tho' great ones are their Object. 'Tis even fo.
For let our Finger ake, and it endues

Our other healthful Members, even to a Senfe
Of pain. Nay, we muft think Men are not Gods,
Nor of them look for fuch Obfervance always,
As fits the brida!. Befhrew me much, Emilia,
I was, unhandsome Warrior as I am,

Arraigning his unkindnefs with my Soul;
But now I find, I had fuborn'd the Witnefs,
And he's indited falfely.

Amil. Pray Heav'n it be

Satc-matters, as you think, and no Conception,
Nor jealous Toy concerning you.

Def. Alas-the-day, I never gave him Cause.
Emil. But jealous Souls will not be anfwer'd fo;

They are not ever jealous for the Caufe,

[Exit.

Bur