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Oth. Give me your hand: This hand is moist, my lady.

Des. It yet has felt no age, nor known no sorrow. Oth. This argues fruitfulness, and liberal heart; Hot, hot, and moist: This hand of yours requires A sequester from liberty, fasting and prayer, Much castigation, exercise devout; For here's a young and sweating devil here, That commonly rebels. 'Tis a good hand, A frank one.

Des. You may, indeed, say so; For 'twas that hand that gave away my heart. Oth. A liberal hand: The hearts, of old, gave



Come now your


Oth. I have a salt and sullen rheum offends me; Lend me thy handkerchief.


Oth. That which I gave you. Des.

Oth. Not?



Here, my lord.

I have it not about me.

No, indeed, my lord.

But our new heraldry is —hands, not hearts.
Des. I cannot speak of this.



Emil. 'Tis not a year or two shows us a man: They are all but stomachs, and we all but food;

Oth. What promise, chuck?

Des. I have sent to bid Cassio come speak with They eat us hungerly, and when they are full,
They belch us. Look you! Cassio, and my hus-

That is a fault:

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Des. I say, it is not lost.


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 misgives.

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Aст III.

[Exit OTHELLO. Is not this man jealous?

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Sure, there's some wonder in this handkerchief; I am most unhappy in the loss of it.

Enter IAGO and CASSIO.

Lago. There is no other way; 'tis she must do't; And, lo, the happiness! go, and impórtune her. Des. How now, good Cassio? what's the news with you?

Cas. Madam, my former suit: I do beseech you,
That, by your virtuous means, I may again
Exist, and be a member of his love,
Whom I, with all the duty of my heart,
Entirely honour; I would not be delay'd:
If my offence be of such mortal kind,
That neither service past, nor present sorrows,
Nor purpos'd merit in futurity,

Can ransome me into his love again,
But to know so must be my benefit;
So shall I clothe me in a forc'd content,
And shut myself up in some other course,
To fortune's alms.



Alas! thrice-gentle Cassio, My advocation is not now in tune;

My lord is not my lord; nor should I know him, Were he in favour, as in humour, alter'd.

So help me, every spirit sanctified,

As I have spoken for you all my best,

And stood within the blank of his displeasure,

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For 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
[Exit 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 ev'n to that sense
Of pain: Nay, we must think, men are not gods;
Nor of them look for such observances

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And no conception, nor no jealous toy,
Concerning you.

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.


about: If I do find him fit, I'll move your suit, And seek to effect it to my uttermost. Cas. I humbly thank your ladyship.




Bidn. Save you, friend Cassio! What make you from home? How is it with you, my most fair Bianca? I'faith, sweet love, I was coming to your house.

Iago. Will you think so?


Bian. And I was going to your lodging, Cassio. What! keep a week away? seven days and nights? Eight score eight hours? and lovers' absent hours, More tedious than the dial eight score times? O weary reckoning



To kiss in private?

The same.

Why, whose is it?

Cas. I know not, sweet: I found it in my chamber. Cassio, walk here- I like the work well; ere it be demanded, (As like enough, it will,) I'd have it copied : Take it, and do't; and leave me for this time.

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An unauthoriz'd kiss. Iago. Or to be naked with her friend abed, An hour, or more, not meaning any harm?

Oth. Naked abed, Iago, and not mean harm? It is hypocrisy against the devil: They that mean virtuously, and yet do so, The devil their virtue tempts, and they tempt heaven. Iago. So they do nothing, 'tis a venial slip: But if I give my wife a handkerchief,

Oth. What then?

Iago. Why, then 'tis hers, my lord; and, being hers,

She may, I think, bestow't on any man.

Oth. She is protectress of her honour too; May she give that?

Iago. Her honour is an essence that's not seen; They have it very oft, that have it not: But, for the handkerchief,

Oth. By heaven, I would most gladly have forgot it : Thou said'st, - O, it comes o'er my memory, As doth the raven o'er the infected house, Boding to all, he had my handkerchief.


Pardon me, Bianca;

I have this while with leaden thoughts been press'd;
But I shall, in a more continuate time,
Strike off this score of absence.

Sweet Bianca, [Giving her DESDEMONA's handkerchief. Take me this work out.


Bian. O, Cassio, whence came this? This is some token from a newer friend. To the felt absence now I feel a cause Is it come to this? Well, well.


Woman, go to! Throw your vile guesses in the devil's teeth, From whence you have them. You are jealous now That this is from some mistress, some remembrance : No, in good troth, Bianca.


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What hath he said? Iago. 'Faith, that he did, I know not what he did. Oth. What? what? Iago. Lie

Oth. Iago. With her, on her; what you will. Oth. Lie with her! lie on her! We say, lie on her, when they belie her: Lie with her! that's fulsome.- Handkerchief,-confessions,-handkerchief. To confess, and be hanged for his labour. First, to be hanged, and then to confess : I tremble at it. Nature would not invest herself in such shadowing passion, without some instruction. Pish! It is not words, that shake me thus: — Noses, ears, and lips: - Is it possible? - Confess! Handkerchief! - O devil! [Falls in a trance.

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Iago. My lord is fallen into an epilepsy; This is his second fit; he had one yesterday. Cas. Rub him about the temples. Iago.

No, forbear:

The lethargy must have his quiet course:
If not, he foams at mouth; and, by and by,
Breaks out to savage madness. Look, he stirs :
Do you withdraw yourself a little while,
He will recover straight; when he is gone,
I would on great occasion speak with you.
How is it, general? have you not hurt your head?
Oth. Dost thou mock me?
I mock you! no, by heaven :
'Would, you would bear your fortunes like a man.
Oth. A horned man's a monster, and a beast.
Iago. There's many a beast then in a populous city,
And many a civil monster.

Oth. Did he confess it?

Iago. Good sir, be a man; Think, every bearded fellow, that's but yok'd, May draw with you: there's millions now alive, That nightly lie in those unproper beds, Which they dare swear peculiar; your case is better. O, 'tis the spite of hell, the fiend's arch-mock, To lip a wanton in a secure couch, And to suppose her chaste! No, let me know; And, knowing what I am, I know what she shall be. Oth. O, thou art wise; 'tis certain. Iago. Stand you awhile apart; Confine yourself but in a patient list. Whilst you were here, ere while mad with your grief, (A passion most unsuiting such a man,) Cassio came hither: I shifted him away, And laid good 'scuse upon your ecstasy; Bade him anon return, and here speak with me; The which he promis'd. Do but encave yourself, And mark the fleers, the gibes, and notable scorns, That dwell in every region of his face; For I will make him tell the tale anew, Where, how, how oft, how long ago, and when He hath, and is again to cope your wife;


say, but mark his gesture. Marry, patience; Or I shall say, you are all in all in spleen, And nothing of a man.


Dost thou hear, Iago? I will be found most cunning in my patience; But (dost thou hear?) most bloody.

That's not amiss;
But yet keep time in all. Will you withdraw?
[OTHELLO withdraws.
Now will I question Cassio of Bianca,

A housewife, that, by selling her desires,
Buys herself bread and cloathes: it is a creature,
That dotes on Cassio, -as 'tis the strumpet's plague,
To beguile many, and be beguil'd by one; ·
He, when he hears of her, cannot refrain
From the excess of laughter: . Here he comes: -


Re-enter CASSIO.

As he shall smile, Othello shall go mad;

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Ha, ha, ha! Oth. Do you triumph, Roman? do you triumph? [Aside. Cas. I marry her! - what? a customer! I pr'ythee, bear some charity to my wit; do not think it so unwholesome. Ha, ha, ha!

Oth. So, so, so, so: They laugh that win. [Aside. Iago. 'Faith, the cry goes, that you shall marry her. Cas. Pr'ythee, say true.

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Iago. I am a very villain else.

Oth. Have you scored me? Well.

[Aside. Cas. This is the monkey's own giving out she is persuaded I will marry her, out of her own love and flattery, not out of my promise.

Oth. Iago beckons me; now he begins the story. [Aside. Cas. She was here even now; she haunts me in every place. I was, the other day, talking on the sea-bank with certain Venetians; and thither comes this bauble; by this hand, she falls thus about my neck;

Oth. Crying, O dear Cassio! as it were: his gesture imports it. [Aside. Cas. So hangs, and lolls, and weeps upon me; so hales, and pulls me: ha, ha, ha!

Oth. Now he tells, how she plucked him to my chamber: 0, I see that nose of yours, but not that dog I shall throw it to. [Aside.

Cas. Well, I must leave her company.
Iago. Before me! look, where she comes.


Cas. 'Tis such another fitchew marry, a perfumed one. What do you mean by this haunting

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of me?

Bian. Let the devil and his dam haunt you! What did you mean by that same handkerchief, you I gave me even now? I was a fine fool to take it. must take out the whole work? A likely piece of work, that you should find it in your chamber, and not know who left it there! This is some minx's token, and I must take out the work? There,-give it your hobby horse: wheresoever you had it, I'll take out no work on't.

Cas. How now, my sweet Bianca? how now? how now?

Oth. By heaven, that should be my handkerchief! [Asuie. Bian. An you'll come to supper to-niglit, you



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mayan you will not, come when you are next prepared for.


Iago. After her, after her.

Cas. 'Faith, I must, she'll rail in the street else. Iago. Will you sup there?

Cas. 'Faith, I intend so.

Iago. Well, I may chance to see you; for I would very fain speak with you. Cas. Pr'ythee, come; Will you?

Iago. Go to; say no more. [Exit CASSIO. Oth. How shall I murder him, Iago? Iago. Did you perceive how he laughed at his vice?

Oth. O, Iago!

Jago. And did you see the handkerchief? Oth. Was that mine?

Iago. Yours, by this hand: and to see how he prizes the foolish woman, your wife! she gave it him, and he hath given it his whore.


Oth. I would have him nine years a killing :A fine woman! a fair woman! a sweet woman! Iago. Nay, you must forget that.

Oth. Ay, let her rot, and perish, and be damned to-night; for she shall not live: No, my heart is turned to stone; I strike it, and it hurts my hand. O, the world hath not a sweeter creature: she might lie by an emperor's side, and command him tasks.

Iago. Nay, that's not your way.

Oth. Hang her! I do but say what she is: - So delicate with her needle! — An admirable musician! O, she will sing the savageness out of a bear! — - Of so high and plenteous wit and invention!

Iago. She's the worse for all this.

Oth. O, a thousand, a thousand times: - And then, of so gentle a condition!

Iago. Ay, too gentle.

Oth. Nay, that's certain: But yet the pity of it, Jago! O, Iago, the pity of it, Iago!

Iago. If you are so fond over her iniquity, give her patent to offend; for, if it touch not you, it comes near nobody.

Oth. I will chop her into messes: — Cuckold me!
Iago. O, 'tis foul in her.
Oth. With mine officer!
Iago. That's fouler.

Oth. Get me some poison, Iago; this night: I'll not expostulate with her, lest her body and beauty unprovide my mind again :— this night, Iago.

Iago. Do it not with poison, strangle her in her bed, even the bed she hath contaminated."

Oth. Good, good: the justice of it pleases; very good.

Iago. And, for Cassio,-let me be his undertaker: You shall hear more by midnight.

[A trumpet within. Oth. Excellent good.-What trumpet is that same? Iago. Something from Venice, sure. 'Tis Lodovico, Come from the duke: and, see, your wife is with him.

Enter LODOVICO, DESDEMONA, and Attendants. Lod. 'Save you, worthy general ! Oth. With all my heart, sir. Lod. The duke and senators of Venice greet you. [Gives him a packet. Oth. I kiss the instrument of their pleasures. [Opens the packet and reads. Des. And what's the news, good cousin Lodovico? Iago. I am very glad to see you, signior; Welcome to Cyprus.

Lod. I thank you: how does lieutenant Cassio? Iago. Lives, sir.

Des. Cousin, there's fallen between him and my lord

An unkind breach: but you shall make all well.
Oth. Are you sure of that?
Des. My lord?

Oth. This fail you not to do, as you will · [Reads. Lod. He did not call: he's busy in the paper. Is there division 'twixt thy lord and Cassio? Des. A most unhappy one; I would do much To atone them, for the love I bear to Cassio. Oth. Fire and brimstone !



Des. What, is he angry?
'May be, the letter mov'd him;
For, as I think, they do command him home,
Deputing Cassio in his government.

Des. By my troth, I am glad on't.

My lord?


My lord?

Oth. I am glad to see you mad.
How, sweet Othello?
[Striking her.

Oth. Devil!

Des. I have not deserv'd this. Lod. My lord, this would not be believ'd in Venice, Though I should swear I saw it: 'Tis very much; Make her amends, she weeps.

Are you wise?

Oth. O devil, devil! If that the earth could teem with woman's tears, Each drop she falls would prove a crocodile : — Out of my sight!



I will not stay to offend you.

Lod. Truly, an obedient lady : — I do beseech your lordship, call her back. Oth. Mistress

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My lord?


What would you with her, sir? Lod. Who, I, my lord?

Oth. Ay; you did wish, that I would make her


Sir, she can turn, and turn, and yet go on,
And turn again; and she can weep, sir, weep;
And she's obedient, as you say, — obedient,
Very obedient : — Proceed you in your tears.—
Concerning this, sir, O well-painted passion!
I am commanded home: —
Get you away:
I'll send for you anon. — Sir, I obey the mandate,
And will return to Venice; - Hence, avaunt!
Cassio shall have my place. And, - sir, to-night,
I do entreat that we may sup together.
You are welcome, sir, to Cyprus. Goats and monkies.
Lod. Is this the noble Moor whom our full


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What he might be, if, what he might, he is not, —
I would to heaven, he were.

What, strike his wife! 3P 4

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Iago. 'Faith, that was not so well; Yet 'would I Should fear to seize thee: therefore be doubleknew,

That stroke would prove the worst.
Is it his use?
Or did the letters work upon his blood,
And new-create this fault?

Swear thou art honest.
Heaven doth truly know it.
Oth. Heaven truly knows, that thou art false as

Iago.! Alas, alas! It is not honesty in me, to speak What I have seen and known. You shall observe him;

And his own courses will denote him so,

That I may save my speech: Do but go after,
And mark how he continues.

Lod. I am sorry, that I am deceiv'd in him.


SCENE II. A Room in the Castle.


Oth. You have seen nothing then? Emil. Nor ever heard; nor ever did suspect. Oth. Yes, you have seen Cassio and she together. Emil. But then I saw no harm; and then I heard Each syllable, that breath made up between them. Oth. What, did they never whisper? Emil. Never, my lord. Oth. Nor send you out o' the way? Emil.


Oth. To fetch her fan, her gloves, her mask, nor nothing?

Emil. Never, my lord. Oth.


That's strange. Emil. I durst, my lord, to wager she is honest, Lay down my soul at stake: if you think other Remove your thought; it doth abuse your bosom. If any wretch hath put this in your head, Let heaven requité with the serpent's curse! For, if she be not honest, chaste, and true, There's no man happy; the purest of their wives Is foul as slander.


Bid her come hither: -go. [Exit EMILIA. She says enough; — yet she's a simple bawd, That cannot say as much. This is a subtle whore, A closet-lock-and-key of villainous secrets: And yet she'll kneel, and pray; I have seen her do't.

Re-enter EMILIA, with DESdemona.
Des. My lord, what is your will?

Pray, chuck, come hither.
Des. What is your pleasure?

Look in my face.


What horrible fancy's this? Oth. Some of your function, mistress; 3[TO EMILIA. Leave procreants alone, and shut the door; Cough, or cry - hem, if any body come : Your mystery, your mystery ;- nay, despatch. [Exu EMILIA.

Des. Upon my knees, what doth your speech import?

I understand a fury in your words,
But not the words.

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Oth. Why, what art thou?

And loyal wife.


Come, swear it, damn thyself; Lest, being like one of heaven, the devils themselves

Your wife, my lord; your true

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Had it pleas'd heaven
To try me with affliction; had he rain'd
All kinds of sores, and shames, on my bare head;
Steep'd me in poverty to the very lips;
Given to captivity me and my utmost hopes;
I should have found in some part of my soul
A drop of patience: but (alas!) to make me
A fixed figure, for the time of scorn
To point his slow unmoving finger at,
O! O!

Yet could I bear that too well, very well:
But there, where I have garner'd up my heart;
Where either I must live, or bear no life;
The fountain from the which my current runs,
Or else dries up; to be discarded thence!
Or keep it as a cistern, for foul toads

To knot and gender in! turn thy complexion


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Let me see your eyes; Impudent strumpet!
By heaven, you do me wrong.
Oth. Are not you a strumpet?

No, as I am a christian :

Des. Alas, what ignorant sin have I committed? Oth. Was this fair paper, this most goodly book, Made to write whore upon? What committed ! Committed! O thou public commoner! I should make very forges of my cheeks, That would to cinders burn up modesty, Did I but speak thy deeds. What committed! Heaven stops the nose at it, and the moon winks; The bawdy wind, that kisses all it meets, Is hush'd within the hollow mine of earth, And will not hear it: What committed!

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If to preserve this vessel for my lord,
From any other foul unlawful touch,

Be not to be a strumpet, I am none.
Oth. What, not a whore?

Oth. Is it possible?

Des. O, heaven forgive us!

I cry you mercy, then :
I took you for that cunning whore of Venice,
That married with Othello. You, mistress,

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No, as I shall be saved.

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