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Enter Iago.

Iago. How now! what do you here alone ?
Emil. Do not you chide; I have a thing for

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.

What handkerchief? Emil. What handkerchief? Why, that the Moor first gave to Desdemona; That which so often


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. Iago.

A good wench; give it me. Emil. 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. Emil. If it be not for some purpose of import, Give it me again : Poor lady!" she 'l rùn 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 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, 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 mandraNor all the drowsy syrups of the world, Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep Which thou ow'dst 7 yesterday. Oth.

Ha! ha! false to me? To me?

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 abus'd,
Than but to know 't a little.

How now, my lord ?
Oth. What sense had I of her stolen hours of

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.
I had been happy had I nothing known.

Iago. I am sorry to hear this.

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 clamours counterfeit, Farewell ! Othello's occupation 's gone!

Iago. Is it possible! - My lord,

6 The mandrake has a soporifick quality.

1 Possessedst.

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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.

Is it come to this?
Oih. 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 remorses ;
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.

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

That liv'st to make thine honesty a vice!.-
O monstrous world! Také note,, take note, ,0

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.
Iag. I should be wise; for honesty 's a fool,
And loses that it works for.

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 begrim'd and black

8 All tenderness, all pity.


As mine own face. If there be cords, or knives,
Poison, or fire, or suffocating streams,
I'll not endure it. - Would, I satisfied !

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

Would? nay, I will. Iago. And may: But, how ? how satisfied, my

lord ? Would



supervisor, see their crime ? Oth. Death and distraction ! O!

Iago. What shall I say? Where 's satisfaction ? It is impossible, you should see this, Impossible tho' they were 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 reason she's disloyal.

Iago. I do not like the office:
But, sith 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 ;
One of this kind is Cassio :
In sleep I heard him say, - Sweet Desdemona,
Let us be


hide loves !
And then, sir, would he wring my hand and cry
O cursed fate! that gave

thee to the Moor!
Oth. O monstrous ! monstrous !

Nay, this was but his dream. Oth. But this denoted å foregone conclusion ; 'Tis a shrewd doubt, though it be but a dream.



9 Speaking, manifest.

Iago. And this may help to thicken other proofs, That do demonstrate thinly. Oth.

I'll tear her all to pieces. Iago. Nay, but be wise: yet we see nothing

done ; She

may be honest yet. Tell me but this, Have you not sometimes seen a handkerchief, Spotted with strawberries, in your wife's hand ? Oth. I gave

her such a one; 't was my first gift. Iago. I know not that: but such a handker

(I am sure it was your wife's,) did I to-day
See Cassio wipe his beard with.

If it be that,
Iago. If it be that, or any that was hers,
It speaks against her with the other proofs.

Oth. O, that the slave had forty thousand lives;
One is too poor, too weak for my revenge !
Now do I see 'tis true. - Look here, Iago;

fond love thus I do blow to heaven :

'Tis gone.

Arise, black vengeance, from thy hollow cell!

up, O love, thy crown, and hearted throne', To tyrannous hate! swell, bosom, with thy fraught”, For 'tis of aspick's tongues !

Iago. Pray, be content.

O, blood, Iago, blood ! Iago. Patience, I say ; your mind, perhaps, may

Oth. Never, Iago. Like to the Pontick sea,
Whose icy current and compulsive course
Ne'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on
To the Propontick, and the Hellespont;
Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace,
Shall ne'er look back, ne'er ebb to humble love,

I The heart on which thou wast enthroned.

2 Freight, load.

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