Oth, Nay, ftay-thou should'st be honest Iago. I fhould be wife; for honefty's a fool, And lofes what it works for. Oth." By the world, "I think my wife is hopeft; and think the is not; "I think that thou art juft, and think thou art not; "I'll have fome proof. Her name, that was as fresh "As Dian's vifage, is now begrimm'd and black "As my own face. If there be cords, or knives, "Poifon, or fire, or fuffocating ftreams, "I'll not endure't Would I were fatisfied! Fago. I fee, Sir, you are eaten up with passion; Oth. Would? nay, and will. Iago. And may; but how? how fatisfied, my Lord? Would you be fupervifor, grofsly gape on? Behold her tupp'd? Oth. Death and damnation! oh! Iago. It were a tedious difficulty, I think, Were they as prime as goats, as hot as monkeys, * But fince I'm entred in this cause so far, "There are a kind of men, fo loofe of fout, living, for freaking, manifeft. In fleep I heard him fay, Sweet Desdemona, Let us be wary, let us hide our loves! And then, Sir, would he gripe and wring my hand; Cry- Oh sweet creature! and then kiss me hard, As if he pluck'd up kiffes by the roots, That grew upon my lips; then lay his leg Iago. Nay, this was but his dream. Oth. But this denoted a foregone conclufion*. Iago. 'Tis a fhrewd doubt, tho' it be but a dream.> And this may help to thicken other proofs, That do demonftrate thinly. Oth. I'll tear her all to pieces. Iago. Nay, but be wife; yet we fee nothing done; She may be honest yet Tell me but this, Have you not fometimes feen a handkerchief, Spotted with strawberries in your wife's hand ? Oth. I gave her fuch a one; 'twas my firft gift. Iago. I know not that; but fuch a handkerchief (I'm fure it was your wife's) did I to-day See Caffio wipe his beard with. th. If it be that lago. If it be that, or any, if 'twas her's, It speaks against her with the other proofs. 6th. Oh that the flave had forty thousand lives! One is too poor, too weak for my revenge. "Now do I fee 'tis time.- -Look here, Iago, "All my fond love thus do I blow to heav'n, 'Tis gone; "Arife, black vengeance, from th' unhallow'd cell! Yield up, oh Love, thy crown and hearted throne To tyrannous Hate! fwell, bofom, with the fraught, For 'tis of afpics' tongues. Iago. Yet be content. Oth. Oh blood, blood, blood Iago. Patience, I fay; your mind, perhaps, may change. Oth. Never, lago. Like the Pontic fea, Whofe icy current and compulsive course * con lufion, for fa&. X 3 Ne'er Ne'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on Even fo my bloody thoughts with violent pace [He kneels. Swallow them up Now by yond marble heav'n, Iago. Do not rise yet: Witness, you ever-burning lights above! [Lago kneels To wrong'd Othello's fervice. Let him command, And to obey fhall be in me, remord What bloody bufinefs ever. Oth. I greet thy love, Not with vain thanks, but with acceptance bounteous, And will upon the inftant put thee to't : Within these three days let me hear thee fay, That Caffio's not alive. lago. My friend is dead; 'Tis done at your request. But let her live. Come, go with me apart; I will withdraw Oth. Damn her, lewd minx! oh, damn her, damn [her; To furnish me with fome fwift means of death SCENE [Exeunt. IX. Another apartment in the palace. Enter Defdemona, Emilia, and Clown. Def. Do you know, firrah, where Lieutenant Caffio lies? Clown. I dare not fay he lyes any where. Def. Why, man? Clown. He's a foldier; and for me to say a foldier lyes, 'tis ftabbing. Def. Go to; where lodges he? Clown. To tell you where he lodges, is to tell you where I lye. Def. Can any thing be made of this? Clown. Clown. I know not where he lodges; and for me to devise a lodging, and fay, he lies here, or he lies there, were to lye in mine own throat. Def. Can you inquire him out? and be edified by report? Clown. I will catechife the world for him; that is, make questions and bid them answer. Def. Seek him, bid him come hither; tell him, I have mov'd my Lord on his behalf, and hope all will be well. } Clown. To do this is within the compafs of man's wit, and therefore I will attempt the doing of it [Exit. Clown. Def. Where should I lofe that handkerchief, Æmilia? Emil. I know not, Madam. Def. Believe me, I had rather have loft my purse Full of crufadoes. And but my Noble Moor Is true of mind, and made of no fuch basenefs As jealous creatures are, it were enough To put him to ill-thinking. Emil. Is he not jealous? Def. Who, he? I think the fun where he was born, Drew all fuch humours from him. Emil. Look where he comes. Def. I will not leave him now, till Caffio be Call'd to him. How is it with you, my Lord ? SCENE X. Enter Othello. Oth. Well, my good Lady. How do you, Desdemona ? Oh, hardness to dif[femble! [Afide. Def. Well, my Lord. Oth. Give me your hand; this hand is moist, my Lady. Def. It hath yet felt no age, nor known no forrow. For here's a strong and fweating devil here, Def. You may indeed fay fo; For For 'twas that hand that gave away my heart. Oth. A liberal hand. The hands of old gave hearts; But our new heraldry is hands, not hearts. Def. I cannot fpeak of this; come, now your promise. Oth. What promise, chuck? Def. I've fent to bid Caffio come fpeak with you. Oth. I have a falt and forry rheum offends me; Lend me thy handkerchief. Def. Here, my Lord. Oth. That which I gave you. Def. No indeed, my Lord. Oth. That's a fault. That handkerchief Did an Egyptian to my mother give; She was a charmer, and could almoft read The thoughts of people. She told her, while fhe kept it, 'Twould make her amiable, fubdue my father Entirely to her love: but if the loft it, Or made a gift of it, my father's eye Def. Is't poffible ? Oth. 'Tis true; there's magic in the web of it: A Sibyl, that had numbred in the world The fun to courfe two hundred compaffes, In her prophetic fury fow'd the work: The worms were hallowed that did breed the filk; Def. Indeed! is't true? Oth. Most veritable, therefore look to't well. Def. Then would to Heav'n that I had never feen't ! Oth. Ha! wherefore? Def. Why do you speak fo startingly, and rafh? Oth. Is't loft? is't gone? speak, is it out o' th' way? De. Blefs us! Oth. |