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Oth. A liberal hand: The hearts, of old, gave
hands; But our new heraldry is—hands, not hearts. Des. I cannot speak of this. Come now your
promise. Oth. What promise, chuck? Des. I have sent to bid Cassio come speak with
Here, my lord.
I have it not about me.
That is a fault: That handkerchief Did an Egyptian to my mother give; She was a charmer, and could almost read The thoughts of people: she told her, while she
kept it, 'Twould make her amiable, and subdue my
father Entirely to her love; but if she lost it, Or made a gift of it, my
eye Should hold her loathly, and his spirits should hunt After new fancies: She, dying, gave it me; And bid me,
fate would have me wive, To give it her. I did so: and take heed of 't, Make it a darling like your precious eye; To lose or give't away, were such perdition, As nothing else could match, Des.
Is it possible?
Oth. 'Tis true: there's magick in the web of it: A sibyl, that had number'd in the world The sun to make two hundred compasses, In her prophetick fury sew'd the work: The worms were hallow'd, that did breed the silk; And it was dy'd in mummy, which the skilful Conserv'd of maidens' hearts. Des.
Indeed! is't true? Oth. Most veritable; therefore look to't well. Des. Then 'would to heaven, that I had never
Oth. Ha! wherefore?
it is not lost. Oth.
Fetch't, let me see it. Des. Why, so I can, sir, but I will not now; This is a trick, to put me from my suit; I pray,
let Cassio be receiv'd again. Oth. Fetch me that handkerchief: my mind
Oth. The handkerchief, -
pray, talk me of Cassio. Oth. The handkerchief,—
A man that, all his time,
Hath founded his good fortune on your love;
The handkerchief, -
[Exit Othello. Emil.
Is not this man jealous? Des. I ne'er saw this before. Sure, there's some wonder in this handkerchief: I am most unhappy in the loss of it.
Emil. 'Tis not a year or two shows us a man: They are all but stomachs, and we all but food; They eat us hungerly, and when they are full, They belch us. Look you! Cassio, and my husband.
Enter Iago and Cassio. . Iago. There is no other way; 'tis she must do't; And, lo, the happiness! go, and importune her.
Des. How now, good Cassio? what's the news
Cas. Madam, my former suit: I do beseech you,
And shut myself up in some other course,
Alas! thrice-gentle Cassio,
my free speech! You must a-while be patient: What I can do, I will; and more I will, Than for myself I dare: let that suffice you.
Iago. Is my lord angry?
He went hence but now, And, certainly, in strange unquietness.
Iago. Can he be angry? I have seen the cannon, When it hath blown his ranks into the air; And, like the devil, from his very arm Puff’d his own brother;—And can he be angry? Something of moment, then: I will go meet him; There's matter in't indeed, if he be angry. Des. I pr’ythee, do so.—Something, sure, of state,“
[Erit Iago. Either from Venice; or some unhatch'd practice, Made démonstrable here in Cyprus to him, Hath puddled his clear spirit: and, in such cases, Men's natures wrangle with inferior things, Though great ones are their object. 'Tis even so; For let our finger ache, and it indues Our other healthful members ey'n to that sense Of pain: Nay, we must think, men are not gods; Nor of them look for such observances
As fit the bridal.-Beshrew me much, Emilia,
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
mind! Emil. Lady, amen. Des. I will go seek him.-Cassio walk here
[Exeunt Desdemona and Emilia.
Bian. Save you, friend Cassio!
What make you from home: How is it with you, my most fair Bianca? l'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?