Oth.

To me?

Ha ha! false to me?

Jago. Why, how now, general? no more of that. Oth. Avaunt! be gone! thou hast set me on the I swear, 'tis better to be much abus'd, Than but to know't a little.

[rack:

Iago.
How now, my lord?
Oth. What sense had I of her stol'n hours of lust?
I saw it not, thought it not, it harm'd not me:
I slept the next night well, was free and merry;
I found not Cassio's kisses on her lips:

He that is robb'd, not wanting what is stolen,
Let him not know it, and he's not robb'd at all.
Iago. I am sorry to hear this.

Oth. I had been happy, if the general camp,
Pioneers and all, had tasted her sweet body,
So I had nothing known: O, now, for ever,
Farewell the tranquil mind! farewell content!
Farewell the plumed 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 it possible!-My lord,

Oth. Villain, be sure thou prove my love a whore; Be sure of it; give me the ocular proof;

[Taking him by the Throat. 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 it come to this?

Oth. Make me to see it; 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!

The vilest of the camp. Pioneers were generally degraded soldiers.

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, defend me! Are you a man? have you a soul, or sense?— God be 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, since love breeds such offence.
Oth. Nay, stay:-Thou should'st 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 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!

Oth.

OTHELLO'S STORY OF THE HANDKERCHIEF.

That handkerchief

Did an Egyptian to my mother give;

She was a charmert, 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

Should hold her loathly, and his spirits should hunt
After new fancies: She, dying, gave it me;
And bid me, when my fate would have me wive,
To give it her. I did so: and take heed of 't,
Make it a darling like your precious eye;

* All tenderness, all pity.

† Enchantress.

To lose or give 't away, were such perdition,
As nothing else could match.

Des.

Is it possible?
Oth. 'Tis true: there's magic in the web of it:
A sibyl, that had number'd in the world

The sun to make two hundred compasses,
In her prophetic fury sew'd the work:

The worms were hallow'd, that did breed the silk;
And it was died in mummy, which the skilful
Conserv'd of maidens hearts.

A LOVER'S COMPUTATION OF TIME.

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!

ACT IV.

Oth.

OTHELLO'S DISTRACTION.

WHAT hath he said?

Iago. 'Faith, that he did,—I know not what he did. Oth. What? what?

Iago. Lie

Oth.

Iago.

With her?

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. It is not words, that shake me thus:-Pish!-Noses, ears, and lips: —Is it possible?-Confess!-Handkerchief!-0, devil![Falls in a Trance.

HIS FONDNESS.

A fine woman! a fair woman! a sweet woman!

* A proverbial saying.

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, Iago!-O, Iago, the pity of it, Iago.

Lod. Who, I, my lord?

Oth. Ay; you did wish, that I would make her turn: 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! [Exit DESDEMONA. 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!

* Of so sweet a disposition.

[Exit.

Des. Upon my knees, what doth your speech im

port?

I understand a fury in your words,

But not the words.

Oth. Why, what art thou?

Des.

And loyal wife.

Oth.

Your wife, my lord; your true

Come, swear it, damn thyself;

Lest, being like one of heaven, the devils themselves Should fear to seize thee: therefore be double-damn'd, Swear-thou art honest.

Des.

Heaven doth truly know it. Oth. Heaven truly knows, that thou art false as hell. Des. To whom, my lord? with whom? How am I Oth. O Desdemona! away! away! away! [false? Des. Alas, the heavy day!-Why do you weep? Am I the occasion of these tears, my lord? If, haply, you my father do suspect,

An instrument of this your calling back,

Lay not your blame on me; if you have lost him, Why, I have lost him too.

Oth. Had it pleased heaven To try me with affliction; had he rain'd