Eight score eight hours? and lovers' absent hours, Cas. Pardon me, Bianca; I have this while with leaden thoughts been press'd; But I shall, in a more continuate time, Strike off this score of absence. Sweet Bianca, [Giving her Desdemona's handkerchief. Take me this work out. Bian. O, Cassio, whence came this? This is some token from a newer friend. Cas. Woman, go to! You are jealous Throw your vile guesses in the devil's teeth, Cas. I know not, sweet: I found it in my chamber. I like the work well; ere it be demanded, (As like enough, it will,) I'd have it copied: Take it, and do't; and leave me for this time. Cas. I do attend here on the general; And think it no addition, nor my wish, Bian. Why, I pray you? Cas. Not, that I love you not. Bian. But that you do not love me. I pray you, bring me on the way a little; And say, if I shall see you soon at night. Cas. 'Tis but a little way, that I can bring you, For I attend here: but I'll see you soon. Bian. "Tis very good; I must be circumstanc'd. [Exeunt. ACT IV. SCENE I. THE SAME. Enter Othello and Iago. Iago. Will you think so? Iago. Or to be naked with her friend a-bed, An hour, or more, not meaning any harm? Oth. Naked a-bed, Iago, and not mean harm? It is hypocrisy against the devil: They that mean virtuously, and yet do so, The devil their virtue tempts, and they tempt heaven. Iago. So they do nothing, 'tis a venial slip: But if I give my wife a handkerchief, Oth. What then? Iago. Why, then 'tis hers, my lord; and, being hers, She may, I think, bestow't on any man. Oth. She is protectress of her honour too; May she give that? Iago. Her honour is an essence that's not seen; They have it very oft, that have it not: But, for the handkerchief, Oth. By heaven, I would most gladly have forgot it: Thou said'st,-O, it comes o'er my memory, Boding to all, he had my handkerchief. Iago. Ay, what of that? Oth. That's not so good, now. Iago. What, if I had said, I had seen him do you wrong? Or heard him say,-As knaves be such abroad, Oth. Hath he said any thing? Iago. He hath, my lord; but be you well assur'd, No more than he'll unswear. Oth. What hath he said? Iago. 'Faith, that he did,-I know not what he did. Oth. What? what? Iago. Lie Oth. Iago. With her? With her, on her; what you will. Oth. Lie with her! lie on her!-We say, lie on her, when they belie her: Lie with her! that's fulsome. Handkerchief,-confessions,-handkerchief. To confess, and be hang'd for his labour. -First, to be hang'd, and then to confess:-I tremble at it. Nature would not invest herself in such shadowing passion, without some instruction. It is not words, that shake me thus:-Pish!Noses, ears, and lips :-Is it possible?-Confess!Handkerchief!-O devil!- [Falls in a trance. Iago. Work on, My medicine, work! Thus credulous fools are caught; And many worthy and chaste dames, even thus, Enter Cassio. My lord, I say! Othello!-How now, Cassio? Iago. My lord is fallen into an epilepsy; Iago. I would on great occasion speak with you. [Exit Cassio. How is it, general? have you not hurt your head? Oth. Dost thou mock me? Iago. I mock you! no, by heaven: '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 confess it? Iago. Good sir, be a man; Think, every bearded fellow, that's but yok'd, |