Def.

A man that, all his time,

Hath founded his good fortune on your love;

Shar'd dangers with you ;—

Oth.

Def. In footh,

The handkerchief,—

Def. I ne'er faw this before.

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

Emil. 'Tis not a year or two fhows us a man:
They are all but stomachs, and we all but food;
They eat us hungerly, and when they are full,
They belch us.

Look you! Caffio, and my husband.

Enter IAGO and CASSIO.

Iago. There is no other way; 'tis she must do't; And, lo, the happiness! go, and impórtune her. Def. How now, good Caffio? what's the news with you? Caf. Madam, my former fuit: I do befeech you, That, by your virtuous means, I may again Exift, and be a member of his love, Whom I, with all the duty of my heart, Entirely honour; I would not be delay'd: If my offence be of such mortal kind, That neither fervice paft, nor present forrows, Nor purpos'd merit in futurity,

Can ransom me into his love again,

But to know fo must be my benefit;

So fhall I clothe me in a forc'd content,
And shut myself up in fome other course,,
To fortune's alms.

Def.

Def.

Alas! thrice-gentle Caffio,

My advocation is not now in tune;

My lord is not my lord; nor fhould I know him,
Were he in favour, as in humour, alter'd.
So help me every spirit fanctified,

As I have spoken for you all my best;

And ftood within the blank of his difpleasure,

For my free speech! You must a while be patient :
What I can do, I will; and more I will,

Than for myself I dare: let that fuffice you.
Jago. Is my lord angry?

Emil.

He went hence but now,

And, certainly, in ftrange unquietness.

Iago. Can he be angry? I have seen the cannon,
When it hath blown his ranks into the air;
And, like the devil, from his very arm

Puff'd his own brother ;-And can he be angry?
Something of moment, then: I will go meet him;
There's matter in't indeed, if he be angry.

Def. I pr'ythee, do fo.-Something, fure, of ftate,-
[Exit IAGO.
Either from Venice; or fome unhatch'd practice,
Made démonftrable here in Cyprus to him,-
Hath puddled his clear spirit: and, in fuch cases,
Men's natures wrangle with inferior things,
Though great ones are their object. 'Tis even fo;
For let our finger ach, and it indues

Our other healthful members ev'n to that fenfe
Of pain: Nay, we must think, men are not gods;

Nor of them look for fuch obfervances

As fit the bridal.-Befhrew me much, Emilia,

I was (unhandfome warrior as I am,)
Arraigning his unkindness with my foul;

But

But now I find, I had fuborn'd the witness,

And he's indited falfely.

Emil. Pray heaven, it be state matters, as you think; And on conception, nor no jealous toy,

Concerning you.

Def. Alas, the day! I never gave him cause.

Emil. But jealous souls will not be answer'd so;
They are not ever jealous for the cause,

But jealous for they are jealous: 'tis a monster,
Begot upon itself, born on itself.

Def. Heaven keep that monster from Othello's mind!
Emil. Lady, amen.

Def. I will go feek him.-Caffio, walk hereabout: If I do find him fit, I'll move your fuit,

And seek to effect it to my uttermoft.

Caf. I humbly thank your ladyship.

[Exeunt DESDEMONA and EMILIA.

Enter BIANCA.

Bian. Save you, friend Caffio?

What make you from home?

Caf.
How is it with you, my most fair Bianca ?

I' faith, fweet love, I was coming to your house.
Bian. And I was going to your lodging, Caffio.
What! keep a week away? seven days and nights ?
Eight score eight hours? and lovers' abfent hours,
More tedious than the dial eight score times?

O weary reckoning!

Caf.

Pardon me, Bianca ;

I have this while with leaden thoughts been press'd;
But I fhall, in a more continuate time,

Strike off this score of abfence. Sweet Bianca,

[Giving her DESDEMONA's handkerchief.

Take me this work out.

Bian.
This is fome token from a newer friend.
To the felt abfence now I feel a caufe:
Is it come to this? Well, well.

O, Caffio, whence came this?

Caf.

Woman, go to!
Throw your vile gueffes in the devil's teeth,

From whence you have them. You are jealous now;
That this is from fome miftrefs, fome remembrance:
No, in good troth, Bianca.

Bian.

Why, whofe is it?

Caf. I know not, fweet: I found it in my chamber. I like the work well; ere it be demanded,

(As like enough, it will,) I'd have it copied :

Take it, and do't; and leave me for this time.
Bian. Leave you! wherefore?

Caf. I do attend here on the general;

And think it no addition, nor my wish,
To have him fee me woman'd.

Bian.

Why, I pray you?

But that

you do not love me.

Caf. Not, that I love you not.

Bian.

I pray you, bring me on the way a little ;
And fay, if 1 fhall fee you foon at night.
Caf. 'Tis but a little way, that I can bring you,
For I attend here: but I'll fee you foon.

Bian. 'Tis very good; I must be circumstanc'd.

[Exeunt.

ACT

Iago. Or to be naked with her friend abed,
An hour, or more, not meaning any harm?
Oth. Naked abed, Iago, and not mean harm?
It is hypocrify against the devil:

They that mean virtuously, and yet do so,

The devil their virtue tempts, and they tempt heaven. Iago. So they do nothing, 'tis a venial slip :

But if I give my wife a handkerchief,

Oth. What then?

Iago. Why, then 'tis hers, my lord; and, being hers,

She may, I think, bestow't on any man.

Oth. She is protectress of her honour too;

May the give that?

Iago. Her honour is an effence that's not feen;

They have it very oft, that have it not :

But, for the handkerchief,

Oth. By heaven, I would most gladly have forgot it :Thou faid'ft,-O, it comes o'er my memory,

As doth the raven o'er the infected house,
Boding to all, he had my handkerchief.