-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.
This is some token from a newer friend.
To the felt absence now I feel a cause:
Is it come to this? Well, well.

O, Cassio, whence came this?

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 cham

ber.

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.

Bian.

Cas. Not that I love you not.
Bian.

Why, I pray you?

But that you do not love me.

1 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.

* Time less interrupted.

†The meaning is not pick out the work, but copy this work in another handkerchief.

Iago. Or to be naked with her friend abed,
An hour, or more, not meaning any harm?
Oth. Naked abed, 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?

lago. 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,
As doth the raven o'er the infected house,
Boding to all*,-he had my handkerchief.
lago. Ay, what of that?

Oth.

That's not so good, now.

The raven was thought to be a constant attendant on a house infected with the plague.

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-

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

Iago.

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 hanged for his labour↑. -First to be hanged, 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 àre 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.

* Old spelling of suppled, i. e. softened.

A proverbial saying.

Cas. Rub him about the temples.

Iago. 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?

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,
May draw with you: there's millions now alive,
That nightly lie in those unproper* beds,

Which they dare swear peculiar; your case is better.

O, 'tis the spite of hell, the fiend's arch-mock,
To lip a wanton in a secure couch,

And to suppose her chaste! No, let me know;

And, knowing what I am, I know what she shall be. Oth. O, thou art wise; 'tis certain.

Iago. Stand you a while apart; Confine yourself but in a patient listt.

Whilst you were here, ere while mad with your grief

(A passion most unsuiting such a man), Cassio came hither: I shifted him away, And laid good 'scuse upon your ecstasy;

Bade him anon return, and here speak with me; The which he promis'd. Do but encave‡ yourself,

* Common.

+ Within the bounds of patience.

Hide.

And mark the fleers, the gibes, and notable scorns,
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 say, but mark his gesture. Marry, patience;
Or I shall say, you are all in all in spleen,
And nothing of a man.

Oth.

Dost thou hear, Iago? I will be found most cunning in my patience; But (dost thou hear?) most bloody.

Iago. That's not amiss; But yet keep time in all. Will you withdraw?

[Othello withdraws.

Now will I question Cassio of Bianca,

A housewife, that, by selling her desires,

Buys herself bread and clothes: it is a creature,
That dotes on Cassio,-as 'tis the strumpet's plague,
To beguile many, and be beguil❜d by one;

He, when he hears of her, cannot refrain
From the excess of laughter :-Here he comes :

Re-enter Cassio.

As he shall smile, Othello shall go mad;
And his unbookish* jealousy must construe
Poor Cassio's smiles, gestures, and light behaviour
Quite in the wrong.-How do you now, lieutenant?
Cas. The worser, that you give me the addition†,
Whose want even kills me.

Iago. Ply Desdemona well, and you are sure of't. Now, if this suit lay in Bianca's power,

[Speaking lower.

Alas, poor caitiff!

Oth. Look, how he laughs already! [Aside.
Iago. I never knew a woman love man so.
Cas. Alas, poor rogue! I think i'faith she loves me.
Oth. Now he denies it faintly, and laughs it out.

* Ignorant.

+ Title of lieutenant.

[Aside.