Enter IAGO.

Iago. How now! what do you here alone?

Emi. Do not you chide: I have a thing for you. Iago. A thing for me?—it is a common thing. Emi. Ha!

Iago. To have a foolish wife.

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

Iago.

What handkerchief?

Emi. 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?

Emi. No, faith; she let it drop by negligence; And, to the advantage, I, being here, took 't up. Look, here it is.

Iago.

A good wench! give it me.

Emi. What will you do with it, that you have been so earnest

To have me filch it?

Iago.

Why, what's that to you?

[snatching it.

Emi. If it be not for some purpose of import, Give it me again. Poor lady! she 'll run mad, When she shall lack it.

Iago. Be not you known of 't; I have use for it. Go, leave me. [Exit Emilia, I will in Cassio's ledging 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,
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 mandra

gora,1

Nor all the drowsy sirups of the world,

Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep

Which thou owedst 2 yesterday.

Ha ha! false to me? to me?

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

I swear,

'tis better to be much abused,

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.

The mandragoras, or mandrake, has a powerful soporific quality. 2 Possessedst.

He that is robb'd, not wanting what is stolen,
Let him not know 't, and he 's not robb'd at all.
Iago. 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 The immortal Jove's dread clamors counterfeit,→→→ Farewell! Othello's occupation 's gone!

Iago. 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 waked 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 woe upon thy life!
Iago. My noble lord,—

Oth. If thou dost slander her and torture me,

Never pray more; abandon all remorse;
On horror's head horrors accumulate;

Do deeds to make heaven weep, all earth amazed; 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 livest 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 shouldst 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 is 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 begrimed and black
As mine own face. If there be cords, or knives,
Poison, or fire, or suffocating streams,

I'll not endure it.—Would, I were satisfied!

Iago. I see, sir, you are eaten up with passion: I do repent me that I put it to you.

Pity.

You would be satisfied?

Oth.

Would? nay,

i will.

Iago. And may; but, how? how satisfied, my

lord?

Would you, the supervisor, grossly gape on?

Behold her tupp'd?

Oth.

Death and damnation! O!

Iago. It were a tedious difficulty, I think,

To bring them to that prospect: damn them then,
If ever mortal eyes do see them bolster,
More than their own! What then? how then?
What shall I say? where's satisfaction?

It is impossible you should see this,

Were they as prime as goats, as hot as monkeys,
As salt as wolves in pride, and fools as gross
As ignorance made drunk. But yet, I say,
If imputation, and strong circumstances,
Which lead directly to the door of truth,
Will give you satisfaction; you may have it.
Oth. Give me a living 1 reason that she's disloyal.
Iago. I do not like the office:

But, sith 2 I am enter'd in this cause so far,
Prick'd to it by foolish honesty and love,
I will go on. I lay with Cassio lately;
And, being troubled with a raging tooth,
I could not sleep.

There are a kind of men so loose of soul

That in their sleeps will mutter their affairs: