Oth. Give me a living reafon fhe's difloyal.
Iago. I do not like the office;

But fince I'm entred in this cause so far,
Prick'd to't by foolish honesty and love,
I lay with Caffio lately,
And, being troubled with a raging tooth,
I could not fleep.

I will go on.

There are a kind of men, fo loose of foul,
That in their fleeps will mutter their affairs;
One of this kind is Cafio:

In fleep I heard him fay, "Sweet Desdemona,
"Let us be wary, let us hide our loves!"

And then, Sir, would he gripe, and wring my hand; "Oh fweet creature!" and then kifs me hard,

Cry

As if he pluckt up kiffes by the roots,

That grew upon my lips; then lay his leg
Over my thigh, and figh and kifs, and then
Cry, "Curfed fate! that gave thee to the Moor."
Oth. Oh monftrous! monftrous!

Iago. Nay, this was but his dream.

Oth. But this denoted a fore gone conclufion; 'Tis a fhrewd doubt, tho' it be but a dream.

Iago. And this may help to thicken other proofs, That do demonftrate thinly.

Oth. I'll tear her all to pieces.

Iago. Nay, but be wife; yet we fee nothing done ; She may be honeft yet. Tell me but this, Have you not sometimes feen a handkerchief, Spotted with ftrawberries in your wife's hand ? Oth. I gave her fuch a one; 'twas my firft gift. Iago. I know not that; but fuch a handkerchief, (I'm fure, it was your wife's,) did I to day See Caffio wipe his beard with.

Oth. If it be that

Iago. If it be that, or any, if 'twas hers, It fpeaks against her with the other proofs.

Oth. Oh, that the flave had forty thousand lives! One is too poor, too weak for my Revenge. Now do I fee, 'tis true.. Look here, lago, fond love thus do I blow to heav'n:

A my

'Tis gone;

--

Arife, black vengeance, from the hollow hell!
Yield up, oh love, thy crown and hearted throne
To tyrannous hate! fwell, bofom, with thy fraught,
For 'tis of afpicks' tongues.

Iago. Yet be content.

Oth. Oh blood, blood, blood

Iago. Patience, I fay; your mind, perhaps, may change.

Oth. Never, Iage. Like to the Pontick Sea,
Whofe icy current and compulfive course,
Ne'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on
To the Propontick, and the Hellefpont:

Even fo my bloody thoughts with violent pace
Shall ne'er look back, ne'er ebb to humble love,
"Till that a capable and wide revenge

Swallow them up.- Now, by yond marble heav'n, In the due rev'rence of a facred vow

I here engage my words

Iago. Do not rife yet:

Witnefs, you ever-burning lights above!

You elements, that clip us round about!
Witness, that here Iago doth give up

'The execution of his wit, hands, heart,

[He kneels.

[Iago kneels.

To wrong'd Othello's fervice. Let him command, (23) Nor, to obey, shall be in me Remorse,

What bloody bufinefs ever.

Oth. I greet thy love,

(23) Let him command,

And to obey shall be in me Remorse,

What bloody Business ever.] Thus all the old Copies, to the manifest Depravation of the Poet's Sense. Mr. Pope has attempted an Emendation, but with his old Luck and Dexterity.

Not to obey shall be in me Remorse, &c.

I read, with the Change only of a fingle Letter;

Nor, to obey, fhall be in me Remorse, &c.

i. e. Let your Commands be ever fo bloody, Remorfe and Compaffion shall not reftrain me from obeying them.

Not

Not with vain thanks, but with acceptance bounteous,
And will upon the inftant put thee to't:
Within these three days let me hear thee say,
That Caffio's not alive.

Iago. My friend is dead;

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

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

Come, go with me apart; I will withdraw

To furnish me with fome fwift means of death
For the fair Devil. Now art thou my Lieutenant.
Iago. I am your own for ever.

[Exeunt.

SCENE, another Apartment in the Palace.

Enter Desdemona, Emilia, and Clown.

DefDo you know, firrah, where Lieutenant Cassis

Clown. I dare not fay, he lies

Def. Why, man?

any where.

Clown. He's a foldier; and for me to fay, a foldier 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 devise a lodging, and fay, he lies here, or he lies there, were to lie in mine own throat.

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

Clown. I will catechize the world for him; that is, make questions, and bid them answer. (24)

(24) Clown. I will catechize the World for him ;

Def.

That is, make Questions, and by them answer.]

This Clown is a Fool to fome purpose. He was to go feek

N 5

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 fhould I lose that handkerchief, Emilia? Emil. I know not, Madam.

Def. Believe me, I had rather have loft my purse 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 humours from him.

Emil. Look, where he comes.

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

Enter Othello.

Oth. Well, my good lady. Oh, hardness to dif femble!

How do you, Desdemona ?

Def. Well, my Lord.

Oth. Give me your hand; this hand is moift, my Lady.

Def. It yet hath felt no age, nor known no forrow.
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, exercise devout;

For here's a young and fweating devil here,
That commonly rebels: 'tis a good hand,
A frank one.

for One; he fays, he will ask for him, and by his own Que ftions make Anfwer. Without doubt, we should read;

and bid them answer.

i. e. the World; those, whom he queftions. Mr. Warburton.

Def.

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 fpeak of this; come, now your promife. Oth. What promife, chuck?

Def. I've fent to bid Caffio come speak with you. Oth. I have a falt and forry Rheum offends me; Lend me thy handkerchief.

Def. Here, my Lord.

Oth. That, which I gave you.

Def. I have it not about me.
Oth. Not?

Def. No, indeed, my Lord.

Oth. That's a fault. That handkerchief Did an Egyptian to my mother give;

She was a Charmer, and could almoft 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 fpirits 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 lofe'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 course two hundred compaffes,

In her prophetick fury fow'd the Work:

The worms were hallowed, that did breed the filk;,
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 wou'd to heav'n, that I had never feen't! Oib. Ha? wherefore?