ACT 3. SCENE IV. Before the castle.
Enter Desdemona, EMILIA, and Clown
Desdemona
- Do you know, sirrah, where Lieutenant Cassio lies?
Clown
- I dare not say he lies any where.
Desdemona
- Why, man?
Clown
- He's a soldier, and for one to say a soldier lies,
- is stabbing.
Desdemona
- Go to: where lodges he?
Clown
- To tell you where he lodges, is to tell you where I lie.
Desdemona
- Can any thing be made of this?
Clown
- I know not where he lodges, and for me to devise a
- lodging and say he lies here or he lies there, were
- to lie in mine own throat.
Desdemona
- Can you inquire him out, and be edified by report?
Clown
- I will catechise the world for him; that is, make
- questions, and by them answer.
Desdemona
- Seek him, bid him come hither: tell him I have
- moved my lord on his behalf, and hope all will be well.
Clown
- To do this is within the compass of man's wit: and
- therefore I will attempt the doing it.
Exit
Desdemona
- Where should I lose that handkerchief, Emilia?
Emilia
- I know not, madam.
Desdemona
- Believe me, I had rather have lost my purse
- Full of crusadoes: and, but my noble Moor
- Is true of mind and made of no such baseness
- As jealous creatures are, it were enough
- To put him to ill thinking.
Emilia
- Is he not jealous?
Desdemona
- Who, he? I think the sun where he was born
- Drew all such humours from him.
Emilia
- Look, where he comes.
Desdemona
- I will not leave him now till Cassio
- Be call'd to him.
Enter Othello
- How is't with you, my lord
Othello
- Well, my good lady.
Aside
- O, hardness to dissemble!--
- How do you, Desdemona?
Desdemona
- Well, my good lord.
Othello
- Give me your hand: this hand is moist, my lady.
Desdemona
- It yet hath felt no age nor known no sorrow.
Othello
- This argues fruitfulness and liberal heart:
- Hot, hot, and moist: this hand of yours requires
- A sequester from liberty, fasting and prayer,
- Much castigation, exercise devout;
- For here's a young and sweating devil here,
- That commonly rebels. 'Tis a good hand,
- A frank one.
Desdemona
- You may, indeed, say so;
- For 'twas that hand that gave away my heart.
Othello
- A liberal hand: the hearts of old gave hands;
- But our new heraldry is hands, not hearts.
Desdemona
- I cannot speak of this. Come now, your promise.
Othello
- What promise, chuck?
Desdemona
- I have sent to bid Cassio come speak with you.
Othello
- I have a salt and sorry rheum offends me;
- Lend me thy handkerchief.
Desdemona
- Here, my lord.
Othello
- That which I gave you.
Desdemona
- I have it not about me.
Othello
- Not?
Desdemona
- No, indeed, my lord.
Othello
- That is a fault.
- That handkerchief
- Did an Egyptian to my mother give;
- She was a charmer, 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 gift of it, my father's eye
- Should hold her loathed 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 on't;
- Make it a darling like your precious eye;
- To lose't or give't away were such perdition
- As nothing else could match.
Desdemona
- Is't possible?
Othello
- 'Tis true: there's magic in the web of it:
- A sibyl, that had number'd in the world
- The sun to course two hundred compasses,
- In her prophetic fury sew'd the work;
- The worms were hallow'd that did breed the silk;
- And it was dyed in mummy which the skilful
- Conserved of maidens' hearts.
Desdemona
- Indeed! is't true?
Othello
- Most veritable; therefore look to't well.
Desdemona
- Then would to God that I had never seen't!
Othello
- Ha! wherefore?
Desdemona
- Why do you speak so startingly and rash?
Othello
- Is't lost? is't gone? speak, is it out
- o' the way?
Desdemona
- Heaven bless us!
Othello
- Say you?
Desdemona
- It is not lost; but what an if it were?
Othello
- How!
Desdemona
- I say, it is not lost.
Othello
- Fetch't, let me see't.
Desdemona
- Why, so I can, sir, but I will not now.
- This is a trick to put me from my suit:
- Pray you, let Cassio be received again.
Othello
- Fetch me the handkerchief: my mind misgives.
Desdemona
- Come, come;
- You'll never meet a more sufficient man.
Othello
- The handkerchief!
Desdemona
- I pray, talk me of Cassio.
Othello
- The handkerchief!
Desdemona
- A man that all his time
- Hath founded his good fortunes on your love,
- Shared dangers with you,--
Othello
- The handkerchief!
Desdemona
- In sooth, you are to blame.
Othello
- Away!
Exit
Emilia
- Is not this man jealous?
Desdemona
- I ne'er saw this before.
- Sure, there's some wonder in this handkerchief:
- I am most unhappy in the loss of it.
Emilia
- 'Tis not a year or two shows us a man:
- They are all but stomachs, and we all but food;
- To eat us hungerly, and when they are full,
- They belch us. Look you, Cassio and my husband!
Enter Cassio and Iago
Iago
- There is no other way; 'tis she must do't:
- And, lo, the happiness! go, and importune her.
Desdemona
- How now, good Cassio! what's the news with you?
Cassio
- Madam, my former suit: I do beseech you
- That by your virtuous means I may again
- Exist, and be a member of his love
- Whom I with all the office of my heart
- Entirely honour: I would not be delay'd.
- If my offence be of such mortal kind
- That nor my service past, nor present sorrows,
- Nor purposed merit in futurity,
- Can ransom me into his love again,
- But to know so must be my benefit;
- So shall I clothe me in a forced content,
- And shut myself up in some other course,
- To fortune's alms.
Desdemona
- Alas, thrice-gentle Cassio!
- My advocation is not now in tune;
- My lord is not my lord; nor should I know him,
- Were he in favour as in humour alter'd.
- So help me every spirit sanctified,
- As I have spoken for you all my best
- And stood within the blank of his displeasure
- For my free speech! you must awhile be patient:
- What I can do I will; and more I will
- Than for myself I dare: let that suffice you.
Iago
- Is my lord angry?
Emilia
- He went hence but now,
- And certainly in strange 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.
Desdemona
- I prithee, do so.
Exit Iago
- Something, sure, of state,
- Either from Venice, or some unhatch'd practise
- Made demonstrable here in Cyprus to him,
- Hath puddled his clear spirit: and in such cases
- Men's natures wrangle with inferior things,
- Though great ones are their object. 'Tis even so;
- For let our finger ache, and it indues
- Our other healthful members even to that sense
- Of pain: nay, we must think men are not gods,
- Nor of them look for such observances
- As fit the bridal. Beshrew me much, Emilia,
- I was, unhandsome warrior as I am,
- Arraigning his unkindness with my soul;
- But now I find I had suborn'd the witness,
- And he's indicted falsely.
Emilia
- Pray heaven it be state-matters, as you think,
- And no conception nor no jealous toy
- Concerning you.
Desdemona
- Alas the day! I never gave him cause.
Emilia
- 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.
Desdemona
- Heaven keep that monster from Othello's mind!
Emilia
- Lady, amen.
Desdemona
- I will go seek him. Cassio, walk hereabout:
- If I do find him fit, I'll move your suit
- And seek to effect it to my uttermost.
Cassio
- I humbly thank your ladyship.
Exeunt Desdemona and EMILIA Enter BIANCA
Bianca
- Save you, friend Cassio!
Cassio
- What make you from home?
- How is it with you, my most fair Bianca?
- I' faith, sweet love, I was coming to your house.
Bianca
- And I was going to your lodging, Cassio.
- 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!
Cassio
- Pardon me, Bianca:
- I have this while with leaden thoughts been press'd:
- But I shall, in a more continuate time,
- Strike off this score of absence. Sweet Bianca,
Giving her Desdemona's handkerchief
- Take me this work out.
Bianca
- O Cassio, whence came this?
- This is some token from a newer friend:
- To the felt absence now I feel a cause:
- Is't come to this? Well, well.
Cassio
- Go to, woman!
- Throw your vile guesses in the devil's teeth,
- From whence you have them. You are jealous now
- That this is from some mistress, some remembrance:
- No, in good troth, Bianca.
Bianca
- Why, whose is it?
Cassio
- I know not, sweet: I found it in my chamber.
- I like the work well: ere it be demanded--
- As like enough it will--I'ld have it copied:
- Take it, and do't; and leave me for this time.
Bianca
- Leave you! wherefore?
Cassio
- I do attend here on the general;
- And think it no addition, nor my wish,
- To have him see me woman'd.
Bianca
- Why, I pray you?
Cassio
- Not that I love you not.
Bianca
- But that you do not love me.
- I pray you, bring me on the way a little,
- And say if I shall see you soon at night.
Cassio
- 'Tis but a little way that I can bring you;
- For I attend here: but I'll see you soon.
Bianca
- 'Tis very good; I must be circumstanced.
Exeunt