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Eight score eight hours? and lovers’ absent hours,
More tedious than the dial eight score times ?
O weary reckoning!

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. To the felt absence now I feel a cause; Is it come to this? Well, well. Cas.

Woman, go to! Throw your vile guesses in the devil's teeth, From whence you have them. You are jealous

now; That this is from some mistress, some remem

brance: No, in good troth, Bianca. Bian.

Why, whose is it? 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.

Bian. Leave you! wherefore?

Cas. I do attend here on the general;
And think it no addition, nor my wish,
To have him see me woman'd.

Why, I pray you?
Cas. Not, that I love you not.


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.





Enter Othello and Iago.
Iago. Will you think so?

Think so, Iago?

To kiss in private?

An unauthoriz'd kiss.
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

lago. 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 for

got it:

Thou said'st,-0, it comes o'er my memory,
As doth the raven o’er the infected house,
Boding to all, — he had


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,
Who having, by their own importunate suit,
Or voluntary dotage of some mistress,
Convinced or supplied them, cannot choose
But they must blab-

Hath he said any thing?
Iago. He hath, my lord; but be you well assurd,
No more than he'll unswear.

What hath he said?
Iago. ?Faith, that he did, -I know not what he

Oth. What? what?
Iago. Lie-
Oth. With her?
With her, on her; what


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 deyil! [Falls in a trance.

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Iago. Work on, My medicine, work! Thus credulous fools are

caught; And many worthy and chaste dames, even thus, All guiltless meet reproach.—What, ho! my lord !

Enter Cassio.
My lord, I say! Othello!-How now, Cassio?

Cas. What is the matter?

Iago. My lord is fallen into an epilepsy;
This is his second fit; he had one yesterday.

Cas. Rub him about the temples.

No, forbear:
The lethargy must have his quiet course:
If not, he foams at mouth; and, by and by,
Breaks out to savage madness. Look, he stirs:
Do you withdraw yourself a little while,
He will recover straight; when he is gone,
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?

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

And many a civil monster.

Oth. Did he confess it?

Good sir, be a man; Think, every bearded fellow, that's but yok'd, May draw with you: there's millions now alive,

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