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As fit the bridal.-Beshrew me much, Emilia,
I was (unhandsome warrior as I am,)
Arraigning his unkindness with my soul;
But now I find, I had suborn'd the witness,
And he's indited falsely.
Emil. Pray heaven, it be state matters, as you

And no conception, nor no jealous toy,
Concerning you.

Des. Alas, the day! I never gave him cause.

Emil. But jealous souls will not be answer'd so;
They are not ever jealous for the cause,
But jealous for they are jealous : 'tis a monster,
Begot upon itself, born on itself.
Des. Heaven keep that monster from Othello's

Emil. Lady, amen.

Des. I will go seek him.-Cassio, walk hereabout:
If I do find him fit, I'll move your suit,
And seek to effect it to my uttermost.
Cas. I humbly thank your ladyship.

[Exeunt Desdemona and Emilia.


Bian. Save you, friend Cassio!

What make you from home?
How is it with you, my most fair Bianca?
I' faith, sweet love, I was coming to your

house. Bian. And I was going to your lodging, Cassio.

What! keep a week away? seven days and nights?
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 out4. 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 remembrance: 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.

[Exeunt. ACT IV. SCENE I.

The Same,

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

Think so, Iago?

What, To kiss in private? Oth.

An unauthoriz'd kiss. 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

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: VOL. XIV.


Thou said'st,-0, it comes o'er my memory,
As doth the raven o'er the infected house,
Boding to all,-he bad my handkerchief.

Iago. Ay, what of that?

That's not so good, now. Iago. What, if I had said, I had seen him do you

Or heard him say,-As knaves be such abroad,
Who having, by their own importunate suit,
Or voluntary dotage of some mistress,
Convinced 75 or supplied them, cannot choose
But they must blab-

Hath he said any thing?
Iago. He hath, my lord; but be you well assur'd,
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-

With her?

With her, on her; what you 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 76. that shake me thus :-Pish!--Noses, ears, and lips:

It is not words,

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