Oth. 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: Iago. My lord, you know I love you. Oth. I think, thou dost ; And, for I know thou art full of love and honesty, And weigh'st thy words before thou giv'st them breath,- Are tricks of custom; but in a man that's just, Iago. For Michael Cassio, I dare be sworn, I think that he is honest. Oth. I think so too. Iago. Men should be what they seem; Or, those that be not, 'would they might seem none ! Iago. Why, then, I think that Cassio is an honest man. Oth. Nay, yet there's more in this : I pray thee, 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? Oth. Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago, If thou but think'st him wrong'd, and mak'st 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,-I entreat you then, You'd take no notice; nor build yourself a trouble * Indications. + Conjectures. Out of his scattering and unsure observance :- Nor for my manhood, honesty, or wisdom, Oth. 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. Oth. By heaven, I'll know thy thought. Iago. You cannot, if my heart were in your hand; Nor shall not, whilst 'tis in my custody. Oth. Ha! Iago. O, beware, my lord, of jealousy It is the green-eyed monster, which doth mock Who dotes, yet doubts; suspects, yet strongly loves! Iago. Poor, and content, is rich, and rich enough! To him that ever fears he shall be poor :- Oth. Why? why is this? Think'st thou, I'd make a life 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, To such exsufflicatet and blown surmises, Matching thy inference. "Tis not to make me jealous, Iago. I am glad of this, for now I shall have reason With franker spirit: therefore, as I am bound, * Unbounded. I would not have your free and noble nature, In Venice they do let heaven see the pranks They dare not show their husbands; their best conscience Oth. 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. Oth. And so she did. Iago. Why, go to, then; She that, so young, could give out such a seeming, He thought, 'twas witchcraft:-But I am much to blame; For too much loving you. Oth. I am bound to thee for ever. Iago. I see this hath a little dash'd your spirits. Oth. Not a jot, not a jot. Iago. Trust me, I fear it has. I hope you will consider, what is spoke Comes from my love;-But I do see you are moved : I am to pray you, not to strain my speech To grosser issues, nor to larger reach, Than to suspicion. Oth. 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 :- Oth. No, not much moved: I do not think but Desdemona's honest. Iago. Long live she so! and long live you to think so! Iago. Ay, there's the point:-As,-to be bold with you,- 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, Distinctly speak of her; though I may fear, May fall to match you with her country forms Oth. Farewell, farewell: If more thou dost perceive, let me know more ; [Going. Oth. Why did I marry ?-This honest creature, doubtless, Sees and knows more, much more, than he unfolds. * Inherent generosity. + Sew up. Wilfulness. Iago. My lord, I would, I might entreat your honour Oth. This fellow's of exceeding honesty, And knows all qualities, with a learned spirit, Though that her jesses § were my dear heart-strings, For other's uses. Yet, 'tis the plague of great ones; 'Tis destiny unshunnable, like death; Even then this forked plague is fated to us, Desdemona comes: Enter DESDEMONA, and EMILIA. If she be false, O, then heaven mocks itself!- Des. How now, my dear Othello? Your dinner, and the generous islanders, Oth. I am to blame. Des. Why is your speech so faint? are you not well? Oth. I have a pain upon my forehead here. Des. Faith, that's with watching; 'twill away again: Let me but bind it hard, within this hour It will be well. Oth. Your napkin is too little; [Exit. [He puts the handkerchief from him, and it drops. Let it alone. Come, I'll go in with you. * Re-admission. Straps of leather. + Command over myself. Men of intrigue. A wild hawk. ¶ When we begin to live, Des. I am very sorry that you are not well. [Exeunt OTHELLO and DESDEMONA. Emil. I am glad I have found this napkin; To kiss, and talk to. I'll have the work ta'en out, What he'll do with it, heaven knows, not I; Enter IAGO. Iago. How now! what do you here alone? Iago. To have a foolish wife. Emil. O, is that all? What will you give me now For that same handkerchief? Iago. What handkerchief? Emil. What handkerchief! Why, that the Moor first gave to Desdemona; Emil. No, faith; she let it drop by negligence; Look, here it is. Iago. A good wench: give it me. Emil. What will you do with it, that you have been so earnest To have me filch it ? Iago. Why, what's that to you? Emil. If it be not for some purpose of import, Give it me again: Poor lady! she'll run mad, When she shall lack it. Iago. Be not you known of't;* I have use for it. Go, leave me. I will in Cassio's lodging lose this napkin, As proofs of holy writ. This may do something. [Snatching it. [Exit EMILIA. Burn like the mines of sulphur.-I did say so :- Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep Which thou ow'dst‡ yesterday. * Seem as if you knew nothing of the matter. |