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If more thou dost perceive, let me know more; Set on thy wife to observe: Leave me, lago. lago. My lord, I take my leave.

Going. Oth. Why did I marry?-This honest creature, doubtless,

Sees and knows more, much more, than he unfolds. Iago. My lord, I would, I might entreat your

honour

To scan this thing no further; leave it to time:
And though it be fit that Cassio have his place
(For, sure, he fills it up with great ability,)
Yet, if you please to hold him off a while,
You shall by that perceive him and his means:
Note, if your lady strain his entertainment1
With any strong or vehement opportunity;
Much will be seen in that. In the mean time,
Let me be thought too busy in my fears
(As worthy cause I have, to fear-I am,)
And hold her free, I do beseech your honour.
Oth. Fear not my government.
Iago. I once more take my leave.

To

[Exit.

Oth. This fellow's of exceeding honesty, And knows all qualities, with a learned spirit, Of human dealings: If I do prove her haggard,2 Though that her jesses were my dear heart-strings, I'd whistle her off, and let her down the wind, prey at fortune. Haply, for I am black; And have not those soft parts of conversation That chamberers4 have ;-Or, for I am declin'd Into the vale of years; yet that's not much;— She's gone; I am abus'd; and my relief Must be to loath her. O curse of marriage,

(1) Press hard his re-admission to his pay and office.

(2) A species of hawk: also a term of reproach applied to a wanton.

(3) Straps of leather by which a hawk is held on the fist.

(4) Men of intrigue.

That we can call these 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,
For other's uses. Yet, 'tis the plague of great ones;
Prerogativ'd are they less than the base;
'Tis destiny unshunnable, like death;
Even then this forked plague is fated to us,
When we do quicken.1 Desdemona comes:

Enter Desdemona and Emilia.

If she be false, O, then heaven mocks itself!— I'll not believe it.

Des.

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

Des. Why is your speech so faint? are you not
well?

Oth. I have a pain upon my forehead here.
Des. Faith, that's with watching; 'twill away

again :

Let me but bind it hard, within this hour
It will be well.

Oth.

Your napkin2 is too little;
[He puts the handkerchief from him, and
it drops.

Let it alone. Come, I'll go in with you.
Des. I am very sorry that you are not well.
[Exeunt Oth. and Des.
Emil. I am glad I have found this napkin;
This was her first remembrance from the Moor:
My wayward husband hath a hundred times
Woo'd me to steal it: but she so loves the token
(For he conjur'd her, she should ever keep it,)
That she reserves it evermore about her.

(1) When we begin to live.

(2) In the north of England this term for a handkerchief is still used.

To kiss, and talk to. I'll have the work ta'en out, And give it lago:

What he'll do with it, heaven knows, not I;

I nothing, but to please his fantasy.

Enter Iago.

Iago. How now! what do you here alone? Emil. Do not you chide; I have a thing for you Iago. A thing for me?—it is a common thing,Emil. Ha!

Iago. To have a foolish wife.

Emil. O, is that all? What will you give me now For that same handkerchief?

Iago.

Emil. What handkerchief?

What handkerchief?

Why, that the Moor first gave to Desdemona;
That which so often you did bid me steal.
Iago. Hast stolen it from her?

Emil. No, faith; she let it drop by negligence; And, to the advantage, I, being here, took❜t up. Look, here it is.

A good wench: give it me.
do with it, that you have

Iago.
Emil. What will you
been so earnest

To have me filch it?

Iago.

Why, what's that to you? * [Snatching it. Emil. If it be not for some purpose of import, Give it me again: Poor lady! she'll run mad, When she shall lack it.

lago. Be not you known of't;' I have use for it. Go, leave me.

[Exit Emilia. I will in Cassio's lodging lose 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 something. The Moor already changes with my poison: Dangerous conceits are, in their natures, poisons,

(1) Seem as if you knew nothing of the matter.

Which, at the first, are scarce found to distaste;
But, with a little act upon the blood,

Burn like the mines of sulphur.-I did say so :-
Enter Othello.

Look, where he comes! Not poppy, nor mandragora,
Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world,

Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep
Which thou ow'dst2 yesterday.

Oth.

To me?

I

Ha ha! false to me?

lago. Why, how now, general? no more of that. Oth. Avaunt! be gone! thou hast set me on the rack:

swear, 'tis better to be much abus'd, Than but to know't a little.

Iago.

How now, my lord? Oth. What sense had I of her stolen hours of lust? I saw it not, thought it not, it harm'd not me: I slept the next night well, was free and merry; I found not Cassio's kisses on her lips:

He that is robb'd, not wanting what is stolen, Let him not know it, and he's not robb'd at all. lago. I am sorry to hear this.

Oth. I had been happy, if the general camp, Pioneers and all, had tasted her sweet body, So I had nothing known: O now, for ever, Farewell the tranquil mind! farewell content! Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars, That make ambition virtue! O, farewell! Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump, The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife, The royal banner; and all quality,

Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war! And O you mortal engines, whose rude throats

(1) The mandrake has a soporific quality. (2) Possessedst.

(3) The vilest of the camp. Pioneers were generally degraded soldiers.

The immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit, Farewell! Othello's occupation's gone! lago. Is it possible !-My lord,

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

[Taking him by the throat. Or, by the worth of mine eternal soul, Thou hadst been better have been born a dog, Than answer my wak'd wrath.

Iago.

Is it come to this? Oth. Make me to see it; or (at the least) so prove it,

That the probation bear no hinge, nor loop,
To hang a doubt on: or, wo upon thy life!
Jago. My noble lord,-

Oth. If thou dost slander her, and torture me, Never pray more: abandon all remorse ;1

On horror's head horrors accumulate:

Do deeds to make heaven weep, all earth amaz'd, For nothing canst thou to damnation add,

Greater than that.

Iago. O grace! O heaven defend me! Are you a man? have you a soul, or sense?— God be wi' you; take mine office.-O wretched fool, That liv'st to make thine honesty a vice!—

O monstrous world! Take note, take note, O world,
To be direct and honest, is not safe.-

I thank you for this profit; and, from hence,
I'll love no friend, since love breeds such offence.
Oth. Nay, stay:-Thou should'st be honest.
Iago. I should be wise; for honesty's a fool,
And loses that it works for.

Oth.
By the world,
I think my wife be honest, and think she
not;
I think that thou art just, and think thou art not;
I'll have some proof: Her name, that was as fresh
As Dian's visage, is now begrim'd and black
As mine own face.-If there be cords, or knives,

(1) All tenderness, all pity.

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