My wayward husband hath a hundred times

Woo'd me to steal it; but she so loves the token,-
For he conjur'd her she should ever keep it,—
That she reserves it evermore about her

To kiss and talk to. I'll have the work ta'en out,
And give 't Iago:

What he will do with it heaven knows, not I;

I nothing but to please his fantasy.

Re-enter IAGO.

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

Iago. Hast stol'n it from her?

Emil. No, faith; she let it drop by negligence,

And, to the advantage, I, being here, took 't
Look, here it is.

Iago.

A good wench; give it me.

up.

Emil. What will you do with 't, 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 't me again: poor lady, she'll run mad When she shall lack it.

Iago. Be not acknown on 't; I have use for it.
Go, leave me.

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.

[Exit Emilia.

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:—
Look, where he comes! Not poppy, nor mandragora,
Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world,

Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep

Which thou ow'dst yesterday.

Oth.

Re-enter OTHELLO.

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 stol'n hours of lust?

I saw 't not, thought it not, it harm'd not me:

I slept the next night well, was free and merry; (48)

I found not Cassio's kisses on her lips:

He that is robb'd, not wanting what is stol'n,

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,
Pioners and all, had tasted her sweet body,
So I had nothing known. O, now, for ever
Farewell the tranquil mind! farewell content!
Farewell the plumèd 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't possible, my lord?

Oth. Villain, be sure thou prove my love a whore,—

Be sure of it; give me the ocular proof;

Or, by the worth of mine eternal soul,

Thou hadst been better have been born a dog

Than answer my wak'd wrath!

Iago.

Is't come to this?

Oth. Make me to see 't; 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 amaz'd;
For nothing canst thou to damnation add

Greater than that.

Iago.

O grace! O heaven forgive me!
Are you a man? have you a soul or sense?—

God b' wi' you; take mine office.-O wretched fool,
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
I'll love no friend, sith 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 (49) name, that was as fresh
As Dian's visage, is now begrim'd 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.

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? (50)

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't.

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 't 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 wary, let us hide our loves ;"

And then, sir, would he gripe and wring my hand,
Cry, "O sweet creature!" and (51) then kiss me hard,
As if he pluck'd up kisses by the roots,

That grew upon my lips: then laid his leg
Over my thigh, and sigh'd, and kiss'd; and then

Cried, "Cursed fate that gave thee to the Moor!"
Oth. O monstrous! monstrous !

Iago.
Oth. But this denoted a foregone conclusion:
'Tis a shrewd doubt, though it be but a dream.
Iago. And this may help to thicken other proofs

Nay, this was but his dream.

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; 'twas 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 (2) 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 do I blow to heaven:
'Tis gone.-

Arise, black vengeance, from the hollow hell! (53)
Yield up, O love, thy crown and hearted throne
To tyrannous hate! Swell, bosom, with thy fraught,
For 'tis of aspics' tongues!

Iago.

Yet be content.

Oth. O, blood, blood, blood!

Iago. Patience, I say; your mind perhaps may change.
Oth. Never, Iago. Like to the Pontic sea,

Whose icy current and compulsive course
Ne'er feels (54) retiring ebb, but keeps due on
To the Propontic and the Hellespont;
Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace,
Shall ne'er look back, ne'er ebb to humble love,
Till that a capable and wide revenge

Swallow them up.-Now, by yond marble heaven,
In the due reverence of a sacred vow

[Kneels.

Iago.

I here engage my words.

Witness, you ever-burning lights above,
You elements that clip us round about,-
Witness that here Iago doth give up