Iago. Nay, but be wife; yet we see nothing done; She may be honeft yet.-Tell me but this, Have you not fometimes feen a handkerchief, Spotted with ftrawberries in your wife's hand? Oth. Fgave her fuch a one; 'twas my first gift. Iago. I know not that; but fuch a handkerchief, (I'm fure, it was your wife's,) did I to day, See Caffio wipe his beard with.

Oth. If it be that

Iago. If it be that, or any, if 'twas hers,
It speaks against her with the other proofs.
Oth. Oh, that the flave had forty thousand lives!
One is too poor, too weak for my Revenge.
Now do I fee, 'tis time.- Look here, Iago,
All my fond love thus do I blow to heav'n:
'Tis gone;

Arife black vengeance, from th' unhallow'd cell!
Yield up, oh Love, thy crown and parted throne
To tyrannous Hate! fwell, bofom, with thy fraught,
For 'tis of afpicks' tongues.

Iago. Yet be content.

Oth. Oh blood, blood, blood

[change.

lago. Patience, I fay; your mind, perhaps, may

Oth. Never, Iago. Like the Pontic Sea, Whose icy current and compulsive course, Ne'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on To the Propontic, and the Hellefpont:

Even fo 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 heav'n, In the due rev'rence of a facred vow

I here engage my words.

Iago. Do not rise yet:

[He kneels.

[Lago kneels.

Witness, you ever-burning lights above!
You elements, that clip us round about !
Witness, that ere Iago doth give up
The execution of his wit, hands, heart,

Το

To wrong'd Othello's fervice. Let him command, * And to obey, fhall be in me. Remord

What bloody bufinefs ever.

Oth. I greet thy love,

Not with vain thanks, but with acceptance bounteous, And will upon the inftant put thee to't:

Within these three days let me hear thee fay,

That Caffio's not alive.

Oth. Damn her, lewd Minx! oh, damn her, damn Come, go with me apart; I will withdraw

Iago.. My friend is dead;

'Tis done at your requeft.

But, let her live.

[her!

[Exeunt.

To furnish me with fome fwift means of death'

For the fair Devil. Now art thou my Lieutenant.Iago. I am your own for ever.

Another Apartment in the Palace.

Enter Defdemona, Æmilia, and Clown.

Def. Do you know, firrah, where Lieutenant Cassio

lies?

Clown. I dare not fay, he lies any where.

Def. Why, man?

Clown. He's a foldier; and for me to fay, a foldier lies, 'tis ftabbing.

Def. Go to: where lodges he?

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

Def. Can any thing be made of this?

Clown. I know not where he lodges; and for me to devife a lodging, and say, he lies here, or he lies there, were to lie in mine own throat.

Def. Can you enquire him out; and be edified by report?

And to obey, Shall be in me remorse,

What bloody business ever,] Thus the old Copies, but evidently wrong. We fhould read, remord, i. e. however the Bufinefs he fets me upon may fhock my Honour and Humanity, yet I promise to go thro' with it, and obey without referve.

Warb.

Clown. I will catechize the world for him; that is, make queftions, and bid them answer.

Def. Seek him, bid him come hither; tell him I have mov'd my lord on his behalf, and hope, all will be well.

Clown, To do this is within the compass of man's wit, and therefore I will attempt the doing of it. [Exit Clown. Def. Where should I lofe that handkerchief, Æmilia? Emil. I know not, Madam.

Def. Believe me, I had rather have loft my purse Full of Cruzadoes. And but my noble Moor Is true of mind, and made of no fuch bafeness As jealous creatures are, it were enough To put him to ill thinking.

Emil. Is he not jealous?

Def. Who, he? I think, the Sun, where he was born, Drew all fuch humours from him.

Emil. Look, where he comes.

Def. I will not leave him now, 'till Caffio be Call'd to him. How is it with you, my lord?

Oth.

WELL, my good lady. Oh, hardness to

diffemble!

How do you, Desdemona?

Def. Well, my Lord.

Oth. Give me your hand; this hand is moist, my Lady.

Def. It yet hath felt no age, nor known no forrow.
Oth. This argues fruitfulness, and liberal heart:
Hot, hot, and moift-this hand of yours requires
A fequefter from liberty; fafting and prayer,
Much caftigation, exercife devout;

For here's a ftrong and fweating devil here,
That commonly rebels; 'tis a good hand,
A frank one.

Def.

Def. You may, indeed, fay fo;

For twas that hand, that gave away my heart.

Oth. A liberal hand. The hands of old gave hearts; But our new heraldry is hands, not hearts.

Def. I cannot speak of this; come, now your promise. Oth. What promise, chuck?

Def. I've fent to bid Caffio come fpeak with you. Oth. I have a falt and forry Rheum offends me Lend me thy handkerchief.

Def. Here, my Lord,

Oth. That, which I gave you.

Def. I have it not about me.
Oth. Not ?-

Def. No, indeed, my Lord.

Oth. That's a fault. That handkerchief

Did an Ægyptian to my mother give;

She was a Charmer, and could almoft read

The thoughts of people. She told her while fhe kept it,
"Twould make her amiable, fubdue my father
Intirely to her love; but if fhe loft it,
Or made a gift of it, my father's eye
Should hold her loathed, and his fpirits hunt
After new fancies. She, dying, gave it me;
And bid me, when my fate would have me wiv'd,
To give it her. I did fo; and take heed on't:
Make it a darling, like your precious eye;
To lofe't, or give't away, where fuch perdition,
As nothing elfe could match.

Def. Is't poffible?

Oth. 'Tis true; there's magic in the webb of it: A Sybill, that had numbered in the world.

The Sun to courfe two hundred compasses,

In her prophetic fury fow'd the Work:

The worms were hallowed, that did breed the filk; And it was dy'd in Mummey, which the skilful Conferv'd of Maidens' hearts.

Def. Indeed! is't true?

Oth. Moft veritable, therefore look to't well.

Def.

Def. Then would to heav'n, that I had never feen't! Oth. Ha? wherefore?

Def. Why do you fpeak fo ftartingly, and rash? Oth. Is't loft? is't gone? speak, is it out o'th' way? Def. Blefs us!

Oth. Say you?

Def. It is not loft; but what, an if it were ?
Oth. Ha!

Def. I fay, it is not loft.

Oth. Fetch't, let me fee't.

Def. Why, so I can, Sir; but I will not now: This is a trick to put me from my suit,

Pray you, let Caffio be receiv'd again.

Oth. Fetch me the handkerchiefmifgives

-my mind

Def. Come, you'll ne'er meet a more fufficient man.

Oth. The handkerchief

Def. A man, that, all his time,

Hath founded his good fortunes on your

Shar'd dangers with you.

Oth. The handkerchief

Def. Infooth, you are to blame.

Oth. Away!

Emil.

I

SCENE

love;

[Exit Othello.

XI.

Manent Defdemona and Emilia.

S not this man jealous?

Def. I ne'er faw this before.

Sure, there's fome wonder in this handkerchief:
I'm most unhappy in the lofs of it.

Emil. 'Tis not a year, or two, fhews us a man:
They are all but ftomachs, and we all but food,
They eat us hungerly, and, when they're full,
They belch us. Look you! Caffio, and my husband.
Enter Iago and Gaffio.

Iago. There is no other way, 'tis fhe muft do't; And lo, the happiness! go and importune her.

Def.