Enter IAGO. Iago. How now! what do you here alone? you. Iago. A thing for me? Emil. Ha! it is a common thing. Iago. To have a foolish wife. Emil. O, is that all? What will you give me now For that same handkerchief? Iago. Emil. What handkerchief? What handkerchief? Why, that the Moor first gave to Desdemona; 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'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 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 mandra gora", Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world, Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep Oth. To me? Ha ha! false 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. Iago. How now, my lord? Oth. What sense had I of her stolen hours of guilt? I saw it not, thought it not, it harm'd not me: He that is robb'd, not wanting what is stolen, Iago. I am sorry to hear this. Oth. Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war! 6 The mandrake has a soporifick quality. 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, Iago. Is it come to this? Oth. Make me to see it; or (at the least) so That the probation bear no hinge, nor loop, 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 amaz'd, For nothing canst thou to damnation add, That liv'st 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, 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 begrim'd and black All tenderness, all pity. As mine own face. If there be cords, or knives, I'll not endure it.— Would, I were satisfied! You would be satisfied? Oth. Would? nay, I will. Iago. And may: But, how? how satisfied, my lord? Would you, the supervisor, see their crime? Iago. What shall I say? Where's satisfaction? 9 But, sith I am enter'd in this cause so far, There are a kind of men so loose of soul, In sleep I heard him say, Sweet Desdemona, Let us be wary, let us hide our loves! And then, sir, would he wring my hand and cry Iago. Nay, this was but his dream. Oth. But this denoted a 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 handkerchief, (I am sure it was your wife's,) did I to-day See Cassio wipe his beard with. Oth. 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; All my fond love thus I do blow to heaven: 'Tis gone.. Arise, black vengeance, from thy hollow cell! Yield up, O love, thy crown, and hearted throne', To tyrannous hate! swell, bosom, with thy fraught 2, For 'tis of aspick's tongues! Iago. Pray, be content. O, blood, Iago, blood! Iago. Patience, I say; your mind, perhaps, may change. Oth. Never, Iago. Like to the Pontick sea, I The heart on which thou wast enthroned. 2 Freight, load. |