I will in Cassio's lodging lose this napkin,
And let him find it. Trifles light as air
Are to the jealous confirmations strong
As proofs of holy writ: this may do something.
The Moor already changes with my poison:-
Dangerous conceits are, in their natures, poisons,
Which at the first are scarce found to distaste,
But, with a little act upon the blood,

Burn like the mines of sulphur.- I did say so:-
Look, where he comes! Not poppy, nor mandragora,
Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world,

Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep

Which thou ow'dst yesterday.

[Re-enter Othello.

Why, how now, general! no more of that.

Oth.

Avaunt! be gone! thou hast set me on the rack :-
I swear 't is better to be much abused

Than but to know 't a little.

Oth.

What sense had I of her stolen hours?

I saw 't not, thought it not, it harmed not me:
He that is robbed, not wanting what is stolen,
Let him not know 't, and he's not robbed at all.

I am sorry to hear this.

O, now, for ever

Iago.

Oth.

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!

[Falls on seat. Iago kneels to him.

Iago.

Is 't possible, my lord?

Oth.

Villain, be sure thou prove my love a bawd,—

Be sure of it; give me the ocular proof;

[Seizing him by the throat.

Or, by the worth of mine eternal soul,
Thou hadst been better have been born a dog
Than answer my waked wrath.

Is 't come to this?

Iago.

Oth.

Make me to see 't, 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.

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 amazed;
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, sith love breeds such offence.

Oth.

Nay, stay;-thou shouldst be honest.

Iago.

I should be wise; for honesty's a fool,
And loses that it works for.

By the world,

Oth.

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 begrimed 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!

Iago.

I see, sir, you are eaten up with passion:
I do repent me that I put it to you.

You would be satisfied?

If imputation and strong circumstances,—
Which lead directly to the door of truth,—
Will give you satisfaction, you may have't.

Oth.

Give me a living reason she 's disloyal.

I do not like the office:

Iago.

But, sith I am entered in this cause so far,-
Pricked to 't 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,

"Cursed fate that gave thee to the Moor!"

O, monstrous! monstrous!

Oth.

Iago.

Nay, this was but his dream.

Oth.

But this denoted a foregone conclusion.

Iago.

'T is a shrewd doubt, though it be but a dream;

And this may help to thicken other proofs

That do demonstrate thinly.

I'll tear her all to pieces.

Oth.

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: 't was 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.

If it be that

Oth.

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 't is true.- Look here, Iago!
fond love thus do I blow to heaven;

All

'T is

my

gone.

Arise, black vengeance, from the hollow hell!

Yield up,

O! love, thy crown and hearted throne
To tyrannous hate! Swell, bosom, with thy fraught,
For 't is of aspics' tongues!

Iago.

Patience, I say; your mind may change.

Oth.

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

[Kneels.