All guiltless, meet reproach. What, hoa! my Lord! My Lord, I fay, Othello

SCENE

How now, Caffio?

Caf. What's the matter?

Iago. My Lord is fell into an epilepfy: This is the fecond fit; he had one yesterday. Caf. Rub him about the temples.

lago. No, forbear,

The lethargy must have his quiet course;
If not, he foams at mouth, and by and by
Breaks out to favage madness. Look, he ftirs.
Do you withdraw yourself a little while,

He will recover ftreight; when he is gone,

I would on great occafion speak with you. [Exit Caffio. How is it, General? have you not hurt your head? Oth. Doft thou mock me?

lago. I mock you not, by Heav'n;

Would you would bear your fortunes like a man.
Oth. A horned man's a monster, and a beast,

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

Oth. Did he confefs it?

Iago. Good Sir, be a man:

Think, every bearded fellow that's but yok'd,

May draw with you.

Millions are now alive,

That nightly lie in thofe unproper * beds,

Which they dare fwear peculiar. Your cafe is better. Oh, 'tis the fpight of hell, the fiend's arch-mock,

To lip a wanton in a fecure couch,

And to fuppofe her chaste. No, let me know,

And knowing what I am, I know what fhe fhall be.

Oth. Oh, thou art wife; 'tis certain.

Iago. Stand you a while apart,

Confine yourself but in a patient list.

Whilft you were here, o'erwhelmed with your grief,

(A paffion most unfuiting fuch a man),

Caffio came hither. I fhifted him away,

And laid good 'fcufes on your ecftaly;

Bade him anon return, and here fpeak with me;

unproper, for common.

The which he promis'd. 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 fhall fay, you're all in all in spleen,
And nothing of a man.

Oth. Doft thou hear, Iago?

my patience;

I will be found most cunning in
But, dost thou hear? moft bloody.

Iago. That's not amiss;

But yet keep time in all. Will you withdraw?

[Othello withdraws.

Now will I queftion Caffio of Bianca,

A hufwife, that, by felling her defires,

Buys herself bread and cloth. It is a creature
That doats on Caffio; as 'tis the trumpet's plague
To beguile many, and be beguil'd by one;'
He, when he hears of her, cannot refrain
From the excefs of laughter-Here he comes-
SCENE II. Enter Caffio.

As he fhall fmile, Othello fhall go mad;
And his unbookish * jealousy mult construe
Poor Caffio's fimiles, geftures, and light behaviour,
Quite in the 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, [Speaking lower. How quickly fhould you speed?

Caf. Alas, poor caitiff!

Oth. Look how he laughs already.

Iago. I never knew a woman love man fo.

[Afide.

Caf. Alas, poor rogue, I think indeed the loves me.

Oth. Now he denies it faintly, and laughs out.

Iago. Do your hear, Caflio?

Oth. Now he importunes him

unbock fh, for ignorant.

VOL, VIII.

Y

[Afide.

[Afide.

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

Caf. Ha, ha, ha!

Oth. Do you triumph, rogue? do you triumph?

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

Oth. So, fo: they laugh that win.

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

lago. I am a very villain else.

Oth. Have you fcor'd me? well.

[Afide.

Caf. This is the monkey's own giving out the is perfuaded I will marry her out of her own love and flattery, not out of my promife.

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

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

Oth. Crying, Oh dear Caffi), as it were: his gefture imports it.

[Afide. Caf. So hangs, and lolls, and weeps upon me; fo hakes, and pulls me. Ha, ha, ha!

Oth. Now he tells how the pluck'd him to my cham. ber: oh I fee that nofe of your's, but not that dog I

fhall throw it to.

Caf. Well, I must leave her company.

Iago. Before me! look where the comes.

SCENE IV. Enter Bianca,

[Afide.

Caf. 'Tis fuch another fitchew! marry, a perfum'd

one :-D

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 chamter, 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-horfe: wherefo ever 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 fhould be my handkerchief.

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

Iago. After her, after her

Caf. I muft, fhe'll rail in the streets else.

Iago. Will you fup there:

Gaf Yes, I intend fo.

[Exit.

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

very fain fpeak with you.

Gaf. Pr'ythee, come, will you?

Iago. Go to, fay no more.

[Exit Caffio.

SCENE V. Manent Othello and Iago.

Oth. How fhall I murther him, lago?

Iago. Did you perceive how he laugh'd at his vice?

Oth. Oh, Iago!.

Iago. And did you fee the handkerchief?

Oth. Was that mine?

lago. Your's, by this hand: and to fee how he prizes

the foolish woman your wife.

he hath given it his whore.

She

gave it him, and

Oth, I would have him nine years a-killing

A fine woman! a fair woman! a fweet woman!
Iago. Nay, you must forget that.

Oth. Ay, let her rot and perish, and be dama'd tonight; for the fhall not live.

No, my heart is turn'd to flone: Ifrike it, and it hurts my hand-Oh, the world hath not a fweeter creature. She might lie by an Emperor's fide, and command him talks.

Logo. Nay, that's not your way.

Oth. Hang her, I do but fay what fhe is

cate with her needle.

-fo deli

An admirable musician..

Oh, the will fing the favagenefs out of a bear: of Lo

high and plenteous wit and invention!

Lage. 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, Iago-Oh, Iago, the pity of it, lago

lago. If you are fo fond over her iniquity, give her patent to offend; for if it touch not you, it comes near no body.

Qth. 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 fome poifon, Iago, this night; I'll not expoftulate with her, left, her body and her beauty unprovide my mind again; this night, lago,

Iago. Do it not with poifon, ftrangle her in her bed, Even in the bed fhe hath contaminated.

Oth. Good, good:

The juftice of it pleafes; very good,

Jag. And for Callio, let me be his undertaker; You thall hear more by midnight. [Atrumpet within. Oth. Fxcellent good.--W hat-trumpet is that fame? lago. Something from Venice, fure. 'Tis Lodovico Come from the Duke: and, fee, your wife is with him

SCENE VI.

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

[Gives him a letter.

you.
Oth. I kifs the inflrument of their pleasures.

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

Welcome to Cyprus.

Lod. I thank you.

logo. Lives, Sir.

How does Lieutenant Caffio?

Def. Coufin, there's fall'n between him and my Lord an unkind breach: but you fhall make all well.