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 would be satisfied?

Oth.

you.

Would? nay, I will.

Iago. And may: but, how? how satisfied, my

lord?

Would you, the supervisor, grossly gape on?
Behold her tupp'd?

Oth.

Death and damnation! O! lago. 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 monkies,
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 it.
Oth. Give me a living reason she's disloyal.
Iago. I do not like the office:

But, sith2 I am enter'd in this cause so far,-
Prick'd to it 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 then kiss me hard,
As if he pluck'd up kisses by the roots,

(1) Speaking, manifest.

(2) Since.

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.

Nay, this was but his dream. 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, 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 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 aspics' tongues!

Iago. Pray, be content.
Oth.

O, blood, Iago, blood!

Iago. Patience, I say; your mind, perhaps, may

change.

Oth. Never, Iago. Like to the Pontic sea, Whose icy current and compulsive course

(1) The heart on which thou wast enthroned, (2) Freight, load.

Ne'er feels 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

I here engage my words.

Iago.

[Kneels.

Do not rise yet.—

[Kneels.

Witness, you ever-burning lights above!
You elements that clip2 us round about!
Witness, that here lago doth give up
The execution of his wit, hands, heart,
To wrong'd Othello's service! let him command,
And to obey shall be in me remorse,3

What bloody work soever.

Oth.

I greet thy love, Not with vain thanks, but with acceptance boun

teous,

And will upon the instant put thee to't:

Within these three days let me hear thee say,

That Cassio's not alive.

Iago. My friend is dead; 'tis done, at your request:

But let her live.

Oth. Damn her, lewd minx! O, damn her! Come, go with me apart; I will withdraw, To furnish me with some swift means of death For the fair devil. Now art thou my lieutenant. Iago. I am your own for ever. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-The same. Enter Desdemona, Emilia, and Clown.

Des. Do you know, sirrah, where lieutenant Cassio lies?

(1) Capacious.

(2) Embrace.

(3) Not of malice to others, but of tenderness for him.

Clo. I dare not say, he lies any where.
Des. Why, man?

Clo. He is a soldier; and for me to say a soldier lies, is stabbing.

Des. Go to Where lodges he?

Clo. To tell you where he lodges, is to tell you where I lie.

Des. Can any thing be made of this?

Clo. I know not where he lodges; and for me to devise a lodging, and say-he lies here, or he lies there, were to lie in my own throat.

Des. Can you inquire him out, and be edified by report?

Clo. I will catechize the world for him; that is, make questions, and by them answer.

Des. Seek him, bid him come hither: tell him, I have moved my lord in his behalf, and hope, all will be well.

Clo To do this, is within the compass of man's wit; and therefore I will attempt the doing it. [Ex. Des. Where should I lose that handkerchief, Emilia?

Emil. I know not, madam.

Des. Believe me, I had rather have lost my purse Full of crusadoes. And, but my noble Moor Is true of mind, and made of no such baseness As jealous creatures are, it were enough put him to ill-thinking.

Το

Emil.

Is he not jealous?

Des. Who, he? I think, the sun, where he was

born,

Drew all such humours from him.

Look, where he comes.

Emil. Des. I will not leave him now, till Cassio Be call'd to him.-How is't with you, my lord?

Enter Othello.

Oth. Well, my good lady:-[Aside.] O, hardness to dissemble!

(1) A Portuguese coin.

How do you, Desdemona?
Des.

Well, my good lord. 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
hands;

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

promise.

Oth. What promise, chuck?

Come now, your

Des. I have sent to bid Cassio come speak with

you.

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

Des.

Here, my lord.

have it not about me.

That is a fault:

No, indeed, my lord.

Did an Egyptian to my mother give;

She was a charmer,2 and could almost read

The thoughts of people: she told her, while she kept it,

'Twould make her amiable, and subdue my father Entirely to her love; but if she lost it,

Or made a gift of it, my father's eye

(1) Penance, discipline.

(2) Enchantress.