.

And, haply, fo repent.

Oth. Farewel, farewel;

If more thou doft perceive, let me know more:
Set on thy wife t'obferve. Leave me, Iago.
Iago. My lord, I take my leave.

Oth. Why did I marry ?

This honeft creature, doubtless,

[Going.

Sees and knows more, much more, than he unfolds.
Iago. My lord, I would, I might entreat your Honour
To fcan this thing no farther; leave it to time:
Altho' 'tis fit that Caffio have his Place,
For, fure, he fills it up with great ability;
Yet if you please to hold him off a while,
You fhall by that perceive him, and his means;
Note, if your lady ftrain his entertainment
With any ftrong, or vehement importunity;
Much will be seen in That. In the mean time,

Let me be thought too busy in my fears,

(As worthy caufe I have to fear, I am ;)
And hold her free, I do befeech your Honour.
Oth. Fear not my government.
Iago. I once more take my leave.

Manet Othello..

Oth. This fellow's of exceeding honesty,
And knows all qualities, with a learned spirit,
Of human dealings. If I prove her haggard,
Tho' that her jeffes were my dear heart-ftrings,
I'd whistle her off, and let her down the wind
To prey at fortune. Haply, for I'm black,
And have not thofe foft parts of converfation
That chamberers have; or, for I am declin'd
Into the vale of years, yet that's not much
She's
I
gone, am abus'd, and my relief
Muft be to loath her. Oh the curfe of marriage!
That we can call thefe delicate creatures ours,
And not their appetites! I had rather be a toad,
And live upon the vapour of a dungeon,
Than keep a corner in the thing I love,

[Exit.

For others' ufe. Yet 'tis the plague of Great ones;

Pre

Prerogativ'd are they lefs than the base;
'Tis destiny unfhunnable, like death.
Even then, this forked plague is fated to us,
When we do quicken. Desdemona comes !

Enter Desdemona and Æmilia.

If she be false, oh, then heav'n mocks it felf:
I'll not believe't.

Def. How now, my dear Othello?
Your dinner, and the generous Islanders,
By you invited, do attend your presence.
Oth. I am to blame.

Def. Why do you speak fo faintly? Are you not well?

Oth. I have a pain upon my forehead here.

Def. Why, that's with watching, 'twill away again; Let me but bind it hard, within this hour

It will be well.

Oth. Your napkin is too little;

[She drops her handkerchief. Let it alone: come, I'll in with you.

go

Def. I am very forry, that you are not well. [Exeunt: Manet Emilia.

Emil. I am glad, I have found this napkin;
This was her firit remembrance from the Moor;
My wayward husband hath a hundred times
Woo'd me to fteal it. But fhe fo loves the token,
(For he conjur'd her, fhe fhould ever keep it)
That the referves it evermore about her,

To kifs and talk to. I'll have the work ta'en out,
And give't lago; what he'll do with it,

Heav'n knows, not I:

I nothing, but to please his fantafie.

Enter Iago.

Iago. How now? what do you here alone?
Emil. Do not you chide; Í have a thing for you.
Iago. You have a thing for me?

It is a common thing

Emil. Ha?

Iago. To have a foolish wife.

Emil. Oh, is that all? what will you give me now For that fame handkerchief?

lago. What handkerchief?

Emil. What handkerchief?

Why, That the Moor firft gave to Desdemona;
That which fo often you did bid me steal.
Iago. Haft ftolen it from her?

Emil. No; but she let it drop by negligence;
And, to th' advantage, I, being here, took't up:
Look, here 'tis.

lago. A good wench, give it me.

Amil. What will you do with't, you have been fo earnest

To have me filch it?

Iago. Why, what is that to you?

[Snatching it.

Emil. If't be not for fome purpose of import, Give't me again. Poor lady! the'll run mad, When the fhall lack it.

Iago. Be not you known on't:

[Exit Emil.

I have ufe for it. Go, leave me-
I will in Caffio's lodging lofe this napkin,
And let him find it. Trifles light as air
Are, to the jealous, confirmations strong
As proofs of holy Writ. This may do fomething.
The Moor already changes with my poifons:
Dang'rous conceits are in their nature poifons,
Which at the firft are scarce found to diftafte
But, with a little act upon the blood,
Burn like the mines of fulphur.--I did fay fo.
Enter Othello.

;

Look, where he comes! Not Poppy, nor Mandragora, Nor all the drowfy Sirups of the world,

Shall ever medicine thee to that fweet Sleep,

Which thou hadst yesterday.

Oth. Ha! falfe to me!

Iago. Why, how now, General? no more of that. Oth. Avant! be gone! thou'ft fet me on the rack:

I swear,

I fwear, 'tis better to be much abus'd,

Than but to know a little.

Iago. How, my lord?

aft?

Oth. What fenfe had I of her ftol'n hours of
I faw't not, thought it not, it harm'd not me;
I flept the next night well; was free, and merry;
I found not Caffio's kiffes on her lips:

He, that is robb'd, not wanting what is ftol'n,
Let him not know't, and he's not robb'd at all.
Iago. I am forry to hear this.

Oth. I had been happy, if the general Camp,
(Pioneers and all,) had tafted her fweet body,
So I had nothing known. Oh now, for ever
Farewel the tranquil mind! Farewel content!
Farewel the plumed troops, and the big war,
That make ambition virtue! oh, farewel!
Farewel the neighing fteed, and the fhrill trump,
The fpirit-ftirring drum, th' ear-piercing fife,
The royal banner, and all quality,

Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war!
And, oh, you mortal engines, whofe rude throats
Th' immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit,
Farewel! Othello's Occupation's gone!

Iago. Is't poffible, my lord?

Oth. Villain, be fure, thou prove my love a whore; Be fure of it give me the ocular proof,

[Catching hold on him.

Or, by the worth of mine eternal foul,

Thou hadst been better have been born a dog,
Than answer my wak'd wrath.

Iago. Is't come to this?

Oth. Make me to fee't; or, at the leaft, fo prove it,

That the probation bear no hinge, nor loop,

To hang a doubt on: or, woe upon thy life!

Iago. My noble lord

Oth. If thou doft flander her, and torture me, Never pray more; abandon all remorfe;

On horrors head horrors accumulate;

Do deeds to make heav'n weep, all earth amaz'd;
For nothing canft thou to damnation add,

N 3

Greater

Greater than that.

Iago. Oh grace! oh heav'n defend me !

Are you a man? have you a foul? or fenfe?
God be w' you; take mine office. O wretched fool,
That liv'ft to make thine honesty a vice!

Oh monftrous world! take note, take note, oh world,
To be direct and honest, is not safe.

1 thank you for this profit, and from hence

I'll love no friend, fith love breeds fuch offence.
Oth. Nay, ftay

thou fhould'ft be honeft

Iago. I fhould be wife, for hogefty's a fool, And lofes what it works for.

Oth. By the world,

I think, my wife is honeft; and think, fhe is not;
I think, that thou art juft; and think, thou art not;
I'll have fome proof. Her name, that was as frefh
As Dian's vifage, is now begrim'd and black

As my own face.

If there be cords, or knives,

Poifon, or fire, or fuffocating ftreams,

I'll not endure't

-'Would, I were fatisfied!

Iago. I fee, Sir, you are eaten up with paffion; I do repent me that I put it to you.

You would be fatisfied?

Oth. Would? nay, and will.

Jago. And may; but how? how fatisfied, Would you be fupervifor, grofly gape on? Behold her tupp'd?

Oth. Death and damnation! oh!

Iago. It were a tedious difficulty, I think,
To bring 'em to that profpect: damn them then,
If ever mortal Eyes do fee them bolster,
More than their own. What then? how then?
What fhall I fay? where's fatisfaction?
It is impoffible you fhould fee this,

Were they as prime as goats, as hot as monkeys,
As falt as wolves in pride, and fools as grofs
As ignorance made drunk. But yet, I fay,
If imputation and ftrong circumftances,
Which lead directly to the door of truth,
Will give you fatisfaction, you might have't.

Oth.