She shall undo her credit with the Moor.
So will I turn her virtue into pitch,
And out of her own goodness make the net
That shall enmesh them all.-How now, Roderigo?

Enter RODErigo.

Rod. I do follow here in the chase, not like a hound that hunts, but one that fills up the cry. My money is almost spent ; I have been to-night exceedingly well cudgelled; and I think the issue will be,-I shall have so much experience for my pains and so, with no money at all, and a little more wit, return to Venice.

Iago. How poor are they that have not patience!

What wound did ever heal but by degrees? Thou know'st we work by wit, and not by witchcraft;

And wit depends on dilatory time.
Does 't not go well? Cassio hath beaten thee,
And thou by that small hurt hast cashiered Cassio.
Though other things grow fair against the sun,
Yet fruits that blossom first will first be ripe:
Content thyself awhile.-By the mass, 't is
morning:

Pleasure and action make the hours seem short.-
Retire thee: go where thou art billetted.
Away, I say; thou shalt know more hereafter.
Nay, get thee gone. [Exit RODERIGO.]-TWO
things are to be done :

My wife must move for Cassio to her mistress;
I'll set her on :

Myself, the while, to draw the Moor apart,
And bring him jump when he may Cassio find
Soliciting his wife.-Ay, that's the way
Dull not device by coldness and delay. [Exit,

SCENE I.-Before the Castle.

Enter CASSIO, and some Musicians.

Cas. Masters, play here (I will content your pains)

Something that 's brief; and bid "Good-morrow, general." [Music.

Enter Clown.

Clo. Why, masters, have your instruments been at Naples, that they speak i' the nose thus? 1st Mus. How, sir, how?

Clo. Are these, I pray you, called wind instruments?

1st Mus. Ay, marry are they, sir. Clo. O, thereby hangs a tail. 1st Mus. Whereby hangs a tale, sir? Clo. Marry, sir, by many a wind instrument that I know. But, masters, here's money for you and the general so likes your music, that he desires you, of all loves, to make no more noise with it.

1st Mus. Well, sir, we will not.

Clo. If you have any music that may not be heard, to't again: but, as they say, to hear music the general does not greatly care.

1st Mus. We have none such, sir.

Clo. Then put up your pipes in your bag, for I'll away. Go; vanish into air; away. [Exeunt Musicians.

Cas. Dost thou hear, my honest friend ? Clo. No, I hear not your honest friend; I hear you.

Cas. Pr'y thee, keep up thy quillets. There's a poor piece of gold for thee: if the gentlewoman that attends the general's wife be stirring, tell her there's one Cassio entreats her a little favour of speech. Wilt thou do this?

Clo. She is stirring, sir: if she will stir hither, I shall seem to notify unto her. [Exit.

Enter IAGO.

Cas. Do, good my friend.—In happy time, Iago. Iago. You have not been abed, then? Cas. Why, no: the day had broke Before we parted. I have made bold, Iago,

For

Enter EMILIA.

Emil. Good morrow, good lieutenant: I am sorry

your displeasure; but all will soon be well. The general and his wife are talking of it; And she speaks for you stoutly. The Moor replies, That he you hurt is of great fame in Cyprus, And great affinity; and that, in wholesome wisdom,

He might not but refuse you: but he protests he loves you,

And needs no other suitor but his likings
To take the saf'st occasion by the front,
To bring you in again.

Whatever shall become of Michael Cassio,
He's never anything but your true servant.

Des. O sir, I thank you. You do love my lord:
You have known him long; and be you well assured
He shall in strangeness stand no further off
Than in a politic distance.

That policy may either last so long
Or feed upon such nice and waterish diet,
Or breed itself so out of circumstance,
That, I being absent, and my place supplied,
My general will forget my love and service.

Des. Do not doubt that: before Emilia here,
I give thee warrant of thy place: assure thee,
If I do vow a friendship I'll perform it
To the last article. My lord shall never rest;
I'll watch him tame, and talk him out of patience:
His bed shall seem a school, his board a shrift:
I'll intermingle everything he does
With Cassio's suit. Therefore be merry, Cassio;
For thy solicitor shall rather die

Than give thy cause away.

Enter OTHELLO and IAGO, at a distance.
Madam, here comes

Emil.

And hear me speak.

Cas. Madam, not now: I am very ill at ease; Unfit for mine own purposes.

Des. Well, do your discretion. [Exit CASSIO. Iago. Ha! I like not that.

Oth. What dost thou say?

Iago. Nothing, my lord: or if-I know not what.

Oth. Was not that Cassio parted from wife? my

Iago. Cassio, my lord? No, sure, I cannot think it, That he would steal away so guilty-like, Seeing you coming.

Oth.

I do believe 't was he. Des. How now,

my

lord?

Or Tuesday noon, or night; or Wednesday

morn:

I pray thee, name the time; but let it not
Exceed three days. In faith, he 's penitent:
And yet his trespass, in our common reason
(Save that they say the wars must make examples
Out of their best), is not almost a fault
To incur a private check. When shall he come?
Tell me, Othello. I wonder in my soul
What you could ask me that I should deny,
Or stand so mammering on. What! Michael
Cassio,

That came a wooing with you; and so many a time,

When I have spoke of you dispraisingly,
Hath ta'en your part: to have so much to do
To bring him in! Trust me, I could do much,-

Oth. Pr'y thee, no more: let him come when he will:

I will deny thee nothing.

Des.

Why, this is not a boon :

"T is as I should entreat you wear your gloves, Or feed on nourishing dishes, or keep you warm; Or sue to you to do peculiar profit

To your own person. Nay, when I have a suit
Wherein I mean to touch your love indeed,
It shall be full of poize and difficulty,
And fearful to be granted.

Oth.

I will deny thee nothing: Whereon, I do beseech thee grant me this, To leave me but a little to myself.

Des. Shall I deny you? no. Farewell, my lord. Oth. Farewell, my Desdemona: I will come to thee straight.

Des. Emilia, come.-Be it as your fancies teach you:

Whate'er you be, I am obedient. [Exit with EMILIA. Oth. Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul But I do love thee! and, when I love thee not, Chaos is come again.

'T was mine, 't is his, and has been slave to thousands:

But he that filches from me my good name,
Robs me of that which not enriches him,
And makes me poor indeed.

Oth. By heaven, I'll know thy thought.
Iago. You cannot, if my heart were in your hand;
Nor shall not, whilst 't is in my custody.
Oth. Ha!
Iago.

O beware, my lord, of jealousy: It is the green-eyed monster which doth make The meat it feeds on. That cuckold lives in bliss, Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger: But O, what damnéd minutes tells he o'er, Who dotes, yet doubts; suspects, yet strongly loves! Oth. O misery!

Iago. Poor and content is rich, and rich enough: But riches, fineless, is as poor as winter,

To him that ever fears he shall be poor.
Good heaven, the souls of all my tribe defend
From jealousy!

Oth. Why! why is this?
Think'st thou I'd make a life of jealousy,
To follow still the changes of the moon
With fresh suspicions? No: to be once in doubt,
Is-once to be resolved. Exchange me for a goat,
When I shall turn the business of my soul

To such exsufflicate and blown surmises, Matching thy inference. "T is not to make me jealous,

To say my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company;

Is free of speech; sings, plays, and dances well:
Where virtue is, these are more virtuous.
Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw
The smallest fear or doubt of her revolt:
For she had eyes, and chose me. No, Iago:
I'll see before I doubt; when I doubt, prove:
And, on the proof, there is no more but this,-
Away at once with love or jealousy.

Iago. I am glad of this; for now I shall have

reason

To shew the love and duty that I bear you
With franker spirit: therefore, as I am bound,
Receive it from me:-I speak not yet of proof:-
Look to your wife; observe her well with Cassio:
Wear your eye thus,—not jealous, nor secure.
I would not have your free and noble nature,
Out of self-bounty, be abused: look to 't.
I know our country disposition well:

In Venice they do let heaven see the pranks
They dare not shew their husbands: their best

Not to affect many proposéd matches
Of her own clime, complexion, and degree;
Whereto we see in all things nature tends:
Foh! one may smell in such a will most rank,
Foul disproportion, thoughts unnatural:-
But pardon me: I do not in position
Distinctly speak of her: though I may fear,
Her will, recoiling to her better judgment,
May fall to match you with her country forms,
And, happily, repent.

Oth. Farewell, farewell.

If more thou dost perceive, let me know more: Set on thy wife to observe. Leave me, lago.

Iago. My lord, I take my leave. [Going. Oth. Why did I marry?—This honest creature,

doubtless,

Sees and knows more, much more, than he unfolds. Iago. My lord, I would I might entreat your

honour

To scan this thing no further: leave it to time.
And though it be fit that Cassio have his place
(For sure he fills it up with great ability),
Yet if you please to hold him off awhile,
You shall by that perceive him and his means.
Note, if your lady strain his entertainment
With any strong or vehement importunity:
Much will be seen in that. In the meantime,
Let me be thought too busy in my fears
(As worthy cause I have to fear I am),
And hold her free, I do beseech your honour.
Oth. Fear not my government.
Iago. I once more take my leave.
Oth. This fellow's of exceeding honesty,
And knows all qualities, with a learned spirit,
Of human dealings.-If I do prove her haggard,
Though that her jesses were my dear heart-strings,
I'd whistle her off, and let her down the wind,
To prey at fortune.-Haply for I am black,
And have not those soft parts of conversation
That chamberers have: or, for I am declined
Into the vale of years;-yet that's not much :-
She's gone; I am abused; and my relief
Must be to loath her.-O curse of marriage,
That we can call these delicate creatures ours,
And not their appetites! I had rather be a toad,
And live upon the vapour of a dungeon,
Than keep a corner in the thing I love
For others' uses. Yet 'tis the plague of great ones;
Prerogatived are they less than the base:
'Tis destiny unshunnable, like death:
Even then this forkéd plague is fated to us,
When we do quicken.-Desdemona comes:

Enter DESDEMONA and EMILIA.

If she be false, O then heaven mocks itself!I'll not believe it.