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Scene III

The garden of the castle

Enter Desdemona, Cassio, and Emilia

Desdemona

Be thou assured, good Cassio, I will do
All my abilities in thy behalf.

Emilia

Good madam, do: I warrant it grieves my husband,
As if the case were his.

Desdemona

O, that's an honest fellow. Do not doubt, Cassio,
But I will have my lord and you again
As friendly as you were.

Cassio

Bounteous madam,
Whatever shall become of Michael Cassio,
He's never any thing but your true servant.

Desdemona

I know't; I thank you. You do love my lord:
You have known him long; and be you well assured
He shall in strangeness stand no further off
Than in a polite distance.

Cassio

Ay, but, lady,
That policy may either last so long,
Or feed upon such nice and waterish diet,
Or breed itself so out of circumstance,
That, I being absent and my place supplied,
My general will forget my love and service.

Desdemona

Do not doubt that; before Emilia here
I give thee warrant of thy place: assure thee,
If I do vow a friendship, I'll perform it
To the last article: my lord shall never rest;
I'll watch him tame and talk him out of patience;
His bed shall seem a school, his board a shrift;
I'll intermingle every thing he does
With Cassio's suit: therefore be merry, Cassio;
For thy solicitor shall rather die
Than give thy cause away.

Emilia

Madam, here comes my lord.

Cassio

Madam, I'll take my leave.

Desdemona

Why, stay, and hear me speak.

Cassio

Madam, not now: I am very ill at ease,
Unfit for mine own purposes.

Desdemona

Well, do your discretion. [Exit Cassio] 

Enter Othello and Iago

Iago

Ha! I like not that.

Othello

What dost thou say?

Iago

Nothing, my lord: or if—I know not what.

Othello

Was not that Cassio parted from my wife?

Iago

Cassio, my lord! No, sure, I cannot think it,
That he would steal away so guilty-like,
Seeing you coming.

Othello

I do believe 'twas he.

Desdemona

How now, my lord!
I have been talking with a suitor here,
A man that languishes in your displeasure.

Othello

Who is't you mean?

Desdemona

Why, your lieutenant, Cassio. Good my lord,
If I have any grace or power to move you,
His present reconciliation take;
For if he be not one that truly loves you,
That errs in ignorance and not in cunning,
I have no judgment in an honest face:
I prithee, call him back.

Othello

Went he hence now?

Desdemona

Ay, sooth; so humbled
That he hath left part of his grief with me,
To suffer with him. Good love, call him back.

Othello

Not now, sweet Desdemona; some other time.

Desdemona

But shall't be shortly?

Othello

The sooner, sweet, for you.

Desdemona

Shall't be to-night at supper?

Othello

No, not to-night.

Desdemona

To-morrow dinner, then?

Othello

I shall not dine at home;
I meet the captains at the citadel.

Desdemona

Why, then, to-morrow night; or Tuesday morn;
On Tuesday noon, or night; on Wednesday morn:
I prithee, name the time, but let it not
Exceed three days: in faith, he's penitent;
And yet his trespass, in our common reason—
Save that, they say, the wars must make examples
Out of their best—is not almost a fault
To incur a private cheque. When shall he come?
Tell me, Othello: I wonder in my soul,
What you would ask me, that I should deny,
Or stand so mammering on. What! Michael Cassio,
That came a-wooing with you, and so many a time,
When I have spoke of you dispraisingly,
Hath ta'en your part; to have so much to do
To bring him in! Trust me, I could do much,—

Othello

Prithee, no more: let him come when he will;
I will deny thee nothing.

Desdemona

Why, this is not a boon;
'Tis as I should entreat you wear your gloves,
Or feed on nourishing dishes, or keep you warm,
Or sue to you to do a peculiar profit
To your own person: nay, when I have a suit
Wherein I mean to touch your love indeed,
It shall be full of poise and difficult weight
And fearful to be granted.

Othello

I will deny thee nothing:
Whereon, I do beseech thee, grant me this,
To leave me but a little to myself.

Desdemona

Shall I deny you? no: farewell, my lord.

Othello

Farewell, my Desdemona: I'll come to thee straight.

Desdemona

Emilia, come. Be as your fancies teach you;
Whate'er you be, I am obedient.

Exeunt Desdemona and Emilia

Othello

Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul,
But I do love thee! and when I love thee not,
Chaos is come again.

Iago

My noble lord—

Othello

What dost thou say, Iago?

Iago

Did Michael Cassio, when you woo'd my lady,
Know of your love?

Othello

He did, from first to last: why dost thou ask?

Iago

But for a satisfaction of my thought;
No further harm.

Othello

Why of thy thought, Iago?

Iago

I did not think he had been acquainted with her.

Othello

O, yes; and went between us very oft.

Iago

Indeed!

Othello

Indeed! ay, indeed: discern'st thou aught in that?
Is he not honest?

Iago

Honest, my lord!

Othello

Honest! ay, honest.

Iago

My lord, for aught I know.

Othello

What dost thou think?

Iago

Think, my lord!

Othello

Think, my lord!
By heaven, he echoes me,
As if there were some monster in his thought
Too hideous to be shown. Thou dost mean something:
I heard thee say even now, thou likedst not that,
When Cassio left my wife: what didst not like?
And when I told thee he was of my counsel
In my whole course of wooing, thou criedst 'Indeed!'
And didst contract and purse thy brow together,
As if thou then hadst shut up in thy brain
Some horrible conceit: if thou dost love me,
Show me thy thought.

Iago

My lord, you know I love you.

Othello

I think thou dost;
And, for I know thou'rt full of love and honesty,
And weigh'st thy words before thou givest them breath,
Therefore these stops of thine fright me the more:
For such things in a false disloyal knave
Are tricks of custom, but in a man that's just
They are close delations, working from the heart
That passion cannot rule.

Iago

For Michael Cassio,
I dare be sworn I think that he is honest.

Othello

I think so too.

Iago

Men should be what they seem;
Or those that be not, would they might seem none!

Othello

Certain, men should be what they seem.

Iago

Why, then, I think Cassio's an honest man.

Othello

Nay, yet there's more in this:
I prithee, speak to me as to thy thinkings,
As thou dost ruminate, and give thy worst of thoughts
The worst of words.

Iago

Good my lord, pardon me:
Though I am bound to every act of duty,
I am not bound to that all slaves are free to.
Utter my thoughts? Why, say they are vile and false;
As where's that palace whereinto foul things
Sometimes intrude not? who has a breast so pure,
But some uncleanly apprehensions
Keep leets and law-days and in session sit
With meditations lawful?

Othello

Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago,
If thou but think'st him wrong'd and makest his ear
A stranger to thy thoughts.

Iago

I do beseech you—
Though I perchance am vicious in my guess,
As, I confess, it is my nature's plague
To spy into abuses, and oft my jealousy
Shapes faults that are not—that your wisdom yet,
From one that so imperfectly conceits,
Would take no notice, nor build yourself a trouble
Out of his scattering and unsure observance.
It were not for your quiet nor your good,
Nor for my manhood, honesty, or wisdom,
To let you know my thoughts.

Othello

What dost thou mean?

Iago

Good name in man and woman, dear my lord,
Is the immediate jewel of their souls:
Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing;
'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands:
But he that filches from me my good name
Robs me of that which not enriches him
And makes me poor indeed.

Othello

By heaven, I'll know thy thoughts.

Iago

You cannot, if my heart were in your hand;
Nor shall not, whilst 'tis in my custody.

Othello

Ha!

Iago

O, beware, my lord, of jealousy;
It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock
The meat it feeds on; that cuckold lives in bliss
Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger;
But, O, what damned minutes tells he o'er
Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves!

Othello

O misery!

Iago

Poor and content is rich and rich enough,
But riches fineless is as poor as winter
To him that ever fears he shall be poor.
Good heaven, the souls of all my tribe defend
From jealousy!

Othello

Why, why is this?
Think'st thou I'ld make a lie of jealousy,
To follow still the changes of the moon
With fresh suspicions? No; to be once in doubt
Is once to be resolved: exchange me for a goat,
When I shall turn the business of my soul
To such exsufflicate and blown surmises,
Matching thy inference. 'Tis not to make me jealous
To say my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company,
Is free of speech, sings, plays and dances well;
Where virtue is, these are more virtuous:
Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw
The smallest fear or doubt of her revolt;
For she had eyes, and chose me. No, Iago;
I'll see before I doubt; when I doubt, prove;
And on the proof, there is no more but this,—
Away at once with love or jealousy!

Iago

I am glad of it; for now I shall have reason
To show the love and duty that I bear you
With franker spirit: therefore, as I am bound,
Receive it from me. I speak not yet of proof.
Look to your wife; observe her well with Cassio;
Wear your eye thus, not jealous nor secure:
I would not have your free and noble nature,
Out of self-bounty, be abused; look to't:
I know our country disposition well;
In Venice they do let heaven see the pranks
They dare not show their husbands; their best conscience
Is not to leave't undone, but keep't unknown.

Othello

Dost thou say so?

Iago

She did deceive her father, marrying you;
And when she seem'd to shake and fear your looks,
She loved them most.

Othello

And so she did.

Iago

Why, go to then;
She that, so young, could give out such a seeming,
To seal her father's eyes up close as oak—
He thought 'twas witchcraft—but I am much to blame;
I humbly do beseech you of your pardon
For too much loving you.

Othello

I am bound to thee for ever.

Iago

I see this hath a little dash'd your spirits.

Othello

Not a jot, not a jot.

Iago

I' faith, I fear it has.
I hope you will consider what is spoke
Comes from my love. But I do see you're moved:
I am to pray you not to strain my speech
To grosser issues nor to larger reach
Than to suspicion.

Othello

I will not.

Iago

Should you do so, my lord,
My speech should fall into such vile success
As my thoughts aim not at. Cassio's my worthy friend—
My lord, I see you're moved.

Othello

No, not much moved:
I do not think but Desdemona's honest.

Iago

Long live she so! and long live you to think so!

Othello

And yet, how nature erring from itself,—

Iago

Ay, there's the point: as—to be bold with you—
Not to affect many proposed matches
Of her own clime, complexion, and degree,
Whereto we see in all things nature tends—
Foh! one may smell in such a will most rank,
Foul disproportion thoughts unnatural.
But pardon me; I do not in position
Distinctly speak of her; though I may fear
Her will, recoiling to her better judgment,
May fall to match you with her country forms
And happily repent.

Othello

Farewell, farewell:
If more thou dost perceive, let me know more;
Set on thy wife to observe: leave me, Iago:

Iago

Going

My lord, I take my leave.

Othello

Why did I marry? This honest creature doubtless
Sees and knows more, much more, than he unfolds.

Iago

Returning

My lord, I would I might entreat your honour
To scan this thing no further; leave it to time:
Though it be fit that Cassio have his place,
For sure, he fills it up with great ability,
Yet, if you please to hold him off awhile,
You shall by that perceive him and his means:
Note, if your lady strain his entertainment
With any strong or vehement importunity;
Much will be seen in that. In the mean time,
Let me be thought too busy in my fears—
As worthy cause I have to fear I am—
And hold her free, I do beseech your honour.

Othello

Fear not my government.

Iago

I once more take my leave.

Exit

Othello

This fellow's of exceeding honesty,
And knows all qualities, with a learned spirit,
Of human dealings. If I do prove her haggard,
Though that her jesses were my dear heartstrings,
I'ld whistle her off and let her down the wind,
To pray at fortune. Haply, for I am black
And have not those soft parts of conversation
That chamberers have, or for I am declined
Into the vale of years,—yet that's not much—
She's gone. I am abused; and my relief
Must be to loathe her. O curse of marriage,
That we can call these delicate creatures ours,
And not their appetites! I had rather be a toad,
And live upon the vapour of a dungeon,
Than keep a corner in the thing I love
For others' uses. Yet, 'tis the plague of great ones;
Prerogatived are they less than the base;
'Tis destiny unshunnable, like death:
Even then this forked plague is fated to us
When we do quicken. Desdemona comes:

Re-enter Desdemona and Emilia

If she be false, O, then heaven mocks itself!
I'll not believe't.

Desdemona

How now, my dear Othello!
Your dinner, and the generous islanders
By you invited, do attend your presence.

Othello

I am to blame.

Desdemona

Why do you speak so faintly?
Are you not well?

Othello

I have a pain upon my forehead here.

Desdemona

'Faith, that's with watching; 'twill away again:
Let me but bind it hard, within this hour
It will be well.

Othello

Your napkin is too little:

He puts the handkerchief from him; and it drops

Let it alone. Come, I'll go in with you.

Desdemona

I am very sorry that you are not well.

Exeunt Othello and Desdemona

Emilia

I am glad I have found this napkin:
This was her first remembrance from the Moor:
My wayward husband hath a hundred times
Woo'd me to steal it; but she so loves the token,
For he conjured her she should ever keep it,
That she reserves it evermore about her
To kiss and talk to. I'll have the work ta'en out,
And give't Iago: what he will do with it
Heaven knows, not I;
I nothing but to please his fantasy.

Re-enter Iago

Iago

How now! what do you here alone?

Emilia

Do not you chide; I have a thing for you.

Iago

A thing for me? it is a common thing—

Emilia

Ha!

Iago

To have a foolish wife.

Emilia

O, is that all? What will you give me now
For the same handkerchief?

Iago

What handkerchief?

Emilia

What handkerchief?
Why, that the Moor first gave to Desdemona;
That which so often you did bid me steal.

Iago

Hast stol'n it from her?

Emilia

No, 'faith; she let it drop by negligence.
And, to the advantage, I, being here, took't up.
Look, here it is.

Iago

A good wench; give it me.

Emilia

What will you do with 't, that you have been so earnest to have me filch it?

Iago

Snatching it

Why, what's that to you?

Emilia

If it be not for some purpose of import,
Give't me again: poor lady, she'll run mad
When she shall lack it.

Iago

Be not acknown on 't; I have use for it.
Go, leave me.

Exit Emilia

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!

Re-enter Othello

Not poppy, nor mandragora,
Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world,
Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep
Which thou owedst yesterday.

Othello

Ha! ha! false to me?

Iago

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

Othello

Avaunt! be gone! thou hast set me on the rack:
I swear 'tis better to be much abused
Than but to know't a little.

Iago

How now, my lord!

Othello

What sense had I of her stol'n hours of lust?
I saw't 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 stol'n,
Let him not know't, and he's not robb'd at all.

Iago

I am sorry to hear this.

Othello

I had been happy, if the general camp,
Pioners 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 dead clamours counterfeit,
Farewell! Othello's occupation's gone!

Iago

Is't possible, my lord?

Othello

Villain, be sure thou prove my love a whore,
Be sure of it; give me the ocular proof:
Or by the worth of man's eternal soul,
Thou hadst been better have been born a dog
Than answer my waked wrath!

Iago

Is't come to this?

Othello

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!

Iago

My noble lord,—

Othello

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 forgive me!
Are you a man? have you a soul or sense?
God be wi' you; take mine office. O wretched fool.
That livest 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.

Othello

Nay, stay: thou shouldst be honest.

Iago

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

Othello

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 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?

Othello

Would! nay, I will.

Iago

And may: but, how? how satisfied, my lord?
Would you, the supervisor, grossly gape on—
Behold her topp'd?

Othello

Death and damnation! O!

Iago

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 monkeys,
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't.

Othello

Give me a living reason she's disloyal.

Iago

I do not like the office:
But, sith I am enter'd in this cause so far,
Prick'd 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 kiss me hard,
As if he pluck'd up kisses by the roots
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!'

Othello

O monstrous! monstrous!

Iago

Nay, this was but his dream.

Othello

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.

Othello

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?

Othello

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.

Othello

If it be that—

Iago

If it be that, or any that was hers,
It speaks against her with the other proofs.

Othello

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 do I 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,
For 'tis of aspics' tongues!

Iago

Yet be content.

Othello

O, blood, blood, blood!

Iago

Patience, I say; your mind perhaps may change.

Othello

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

In the due reverence of a sacred vow
I here engage my words.

Iago

Do not rise yet.

Kneels

Witness, you ever-burning lights above,
You elements that clip us round about,
Witness that here Iago 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,
What bloody business ever.

They rise

Othello

I greet thy love,
Not with vain thanks, but with acceptance bounteous,
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.

Othello

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


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